#And what an honor and dishonor title is

[bonefall]

Clans cat refuse to honor a name you chose for your kits?

It's rare, but I think that's how they'd respond to an especially bad name.

It has to be pretty bad, though. A name with no value, an insulting one, or one totally unbefitting of a Clanmate. You may not dishonor a child who has done nothing wrong.

For the record, if BB!Rainflower so much as suggested the idea of giving a kitten a Dishonor Title, bare minimum Hailstar would have screamed at her. BB!Hailstar is the successor of Volestar, successor of Dark "Queen’s Rights" Star.

But that's pretty severe! Giving your child a pretty bad name (like "Mealkit"/"Woomew"/"Dead mouse child") without ill intention would probably just result in the parent getting talked-to and the Clan corrects to "Mousekit" or something of the sort.

[raccoon-in-the-danger-room]

Sometimes I see reviews about D&W where people think Worst Wolverine's backstory is super lacking. That they expected something epic like how Mysterio tricked Logan to slaughter everyone in the Old Man comic run.

But that plot, at least to me, doesn't make The Worst Wolverine. It probably makes the Most Tortured Wolverine -- the story of a man slaughtering his own family with his bare hands because he was mind controlled. Which inevitably created a power vacuum so gigantic that the world basically collapsed as supervillains take over the world.

But the title of Worst Wolverine should belong to the Logan that completely abandons his most important moral value: to be the protector.

Sure, he tends to be nomadic and at times self-isolates, but at his core he truly knows what it means to be a pack animal: to be a part of a cohesive family unit, rely on others, be a guardian for the weak.

In a literal sense, a common backstory for him was that he just fucked off from human society after he mutated to live with a pack of wolves. He turned feral, but they also taught him about the importance of community.

Even if you aren't a fan of the wolf background (which I AM because I think it's funny and dramatic as hell), there's other stories where he got taken care of by the Blackfoot Tribe and Lord Ogun before somehow winding up in the Weapon-X Program. Then, the Hudson family rescued him and helped him gain his humanity back after the adamantium experiments. He joined Department H, and sometime after, he found his place with the X-Men.

My point being that past or present, Logan has always belonged to a family. He needs it -- his human AND animal side both need it. He's not meant to be a creature of solitude. When he is, it's a form of punishment that he inflicts upon himself because he doesn't feel worthy to be around the people he loves or he's worried about hurting them. Or it's something inflicted upon him -- aka he's been captured and is being experimented on.

So what does all this tell us about Logan's moral code? He cares deeply for others because it's in his nature to be a part of a pack and he will do anything to protect them.

He's very caring towards animals (ex. looking after wolves that took care of him, mercy killing a bear in The Wolverine, and saving the horses in Logan). He tried to save Silver Fox's life when Sabretooth attacked her. When his wife Itsu was murdered, he relied on the advice of Lord Ogun to get vengeance for her with the Muramasa Blade. He joined Department H and Alpha Flight because he owed the Hudsons so much after re-acclimating him to society. He stayed with the X-Men because Charles gave him a home, family, and purpose outside of being a weapon. He enabled him to be the good man that he is by not only using his powers for the good fight but also being a teacher for the students.

As a character, Logan was created to reflect the archetype of the cowboy/samurai with the morals of honor, integrity, and justice. He's also not afraid to be judge, jury, and executioner for the people he loves. He's a man of action.

So what is the antithetical? A man who dishonors himself by not taking his job seriously. A man of inaction who abandons those he loves. A man who doesn't seek justice but wallows in regret and guilt.

And what did the Worst Wolverine do?

He let his fondness for drinking harm his work. While he was drinking at a bar, a group of humans invaded the X-Mansion and killed a large part of the staff, students, and X-Men. He entered a berserker rage where he murdered the invaders AND innocent people. He tarnished the legacy of the X-Men.

The title of Worst Wolverine doesn't go to the man who got brainwashed and killed without knowing. The title goes to the Logan who killed indescriminantly and didn’t want to stop.

He chose to walk away when they called out for him. He went into a beast state that made the public completely turn against the X-Men in just one night. Instead of making up for his sins, he just went back to the bar -- the very thing that killed his family. He did everything he could to go against his morals of honor, integrity, and justice.

He was a man who failed his family.

THAT'S what makes him The Worst Wolverine.

[holylulusworld]

Dishonored

Title: Dishonored

Summary: You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace.

Pairing: Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader; Lord Barnes x Princess!Reader (no polyamory)

Warnings: heavy angst (I’m not joking), lies, manipulation, hurting people for revenge, implied loss of innocence, unwanted/unplanned pregnancy, Steve being the worst, sadness, hopelessness, desperation, suicidal tendency/suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, fluff, we stan Bucky in this story

Rating: Mature

Words: 2,7 k 

Square filled for @anyfandomfluffbingo: Square 9: “I never loved you.”

Square filled for Lulu’s Winter Bingo 2022: Square 4: Winter

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: C3: Free space – Royal AU

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C2: Sharing body heat

Please heed the warnings for this story. It contains triggering content such as attempted suicide.

You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace. 

How do you move on when your honor and grace get ripped away by the man who promised you love and devotion?

He lured you in – sweet-talked you into giving him the one thing you cherished the most. Your honor and innocence. Reserved for your future husband, and the man loving you unconditionally.

Lies. All lies.

It was a moment of weakness making you stumble and fall. Into his bed. Into his arms.

He took you apart, gentle, and slow. A miracle to you when you think about the aftermath.

A few months earlier, your father’s castle

“I can't believe Prince Steven came to woo me,” you mumbled to yourself. The prince arrived earlier this morning and you hoped your dreams would come true. You always felt a deep connection to the prince, and now, he’s here to talk to your father.

“Princess!” Your chambermaid scolded. “You shouldn’t be out here in the cold! Your father called for you. He wants you to meet Prince Steven. He will stay at the castle for a few weeks until he travels to his uncle’s castle.”

Your face fell. He came here to sit out the approaching snowstorm, nothing else.

How could you have been foolish enough to believe he came to ask for your hand?

“I’m…coming,” you tried to not cry. All your hopes and dreams ended up on the ground - shattered and torn. “We cannot let our guest wait.”

“Father,” you stepped confidently toward your father to peck his cheek. He was always soft on you, and let you break a few rules. Especially when it came to etiquette. You’re his little thunderstorm, a wild child with a bright mind and softness that’s hard to find among royals. “I heard we have a guest.”

“He’ll be here in a minute,” the king softly said. He ran his hand over your hair and patted your head. “I need you on your best behavior. I angered the prince, and we don’t want him to tell his father the king about it.”

You wrinkled your forehead. “What? I don’t understand,” you whispered so no one could hear. Your father is one of the kindest people you know. How could he possibly anger the prince?

“Your Highness,” Steven walked inside the throne room, accompanied by his best friend, and confident Lord Barnes. The brunette watched you with interest while the prince’s eyes drifted toward your brother and his fiancé, Lady Margaret Carter. “I see the princess will join us for supper.”

“Your Highness,” you turned your attention toward the prince. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. It’s been too long.” 

Steven eagerly took your offered hand to press a chaste kiss to the back of it. “The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for having me.”

“Lord Barnes,” you smiled at the brunette. Last time you saw him he was reading a book in the garden, chuckling at something he read. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay. The library is always open for you.”

“Princess,” Lord Barnes smiled wildly. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh…my…you are too kind, Lord Barnes,” you replied gracefully and batted your eyelashes. “It’s always a pleasure having you around.”

Supper was more than pleasant. Lord Barnes kept the conversation flowing while the prince watched you the whole time. He complimented you and raised his glass on your beauty and grace.

You were surprised. His eyes seemed to be glued to your brother and his fiancé. Out of a sudden Prince Steven turned his attention toward you. He even stopped his friend from talking to you.

Your cheeks heated up, and you felt warm when he placed his hand next to yours, subtly brushing your pinkie with his finger.

It was the first time he was so close, and you allowed yourself to bask in his attention for as long as it lasted. 

The next days felt like a dream come true. Steven asked you to spend time with him and go for a walk in the gardens. For propriety's sake, a chaperon accompanied you and Steven. But you didn’t care at all.

The moments spent with the prince were the best of your life. He made you smile, and laugh and your heart flutter.

All that mattered to you was his smile, his soft blue eyes, and the way he looked at you. It was the same way your father looked at your father and your brother at his chosen bride.

“I wish these days will never end,” you dared to hope Steven would say the same.

He took you by surprise when he replied. “Even if they end,” he looked you deep in the eyes, leaning a little closer to whisper, “I’ll always come back to you."

The prince was about to press a soft kiss on your forehead when your chaperone stepped in.

“Your Highness, please do not forget you are wooing for a princess, not a wench. Remember your manners,” she tutted. “We should head back inside. It’s getting colder, and I can smell the snow.”

Marjorie, your chaperone was right. Winter came faster than expected, accompanied by a snowstorm that wouldn’t let up.

The whole country was suffering from the cold weather and the snow masses.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The snowstorm and unforgiving winter kept Steven and Lord Barnes from leaving your castle.

You didn’t mind. Most of the time you spend with Steven, chatting about his kingdom, childhood, and love.

Yes. Love.

You held hands, and when your chaperone wasn’t looking, he even stole kisses. Steven promised you that love is the most precious thing to protect in this world.

He played you well, you give him that.

Your heart couldn’t take being apart from Steven for a single moment. So, you gave him everything you had to offer, and what he was craving. 

On one of these cold winter nights, you let him sneak into your bedroom, and take you to bed. He kissed you, and when he settled between your thighs you believed he would make you his wife and love you forever.

When it was over, he smirked, and his eyes grew cold. Your heart dropped as he hastily redressed. “Steven, what are you doing?”

“My plan went well, didn’t it?” He looked at you, making you feel ashamed of yourself. You grabbed the blanket to cover your body. The one he ruined with his touch. 

“I don’t understand, Steven. My love. What has gotten into you? You said you love me.” You cried as he looked at you, wrinkling his nose at your disheveled state. 

“I never loved you,” he coldly replied. “Your father forced the woman I love to marry your brother,” he sneered and curled his lips. “I stole his beloved daughter’s innocence. What will he do if he finds out you are carrying my bastard under your heart?”

“Steven, I don’t…” Your voice trembled. “Why? I…”

“I came here to ask your father to stop this insanity and let me marry Margaret. I love her dearly. He refused and wanted to send me away.”

You remember now. Your father told you that he upset Steven.

“But…she came here, begging my father to help her. She wanted to marry my brother. Margaret wasn’t my father’s first choice. Some princesses and ladies were more beautiful and with a better reputation. He agreed because she was in love with my brother and threatened to kill herself if he didn’t allow her to marry my brother.”

“What?” He looked a little shell-shocked at your words but shook his head. “Lies!” Steven yelled, making you flinch. “Shut your mouth, wench. Never talk about Margaret like that again.” 

He left without looking back and slammed the door shut. Leaving you devasted, heartbroken, and ruined.

After that night, he never looked at you. He declared that he was going to stay at the guest wing until it was time to leave.

One month later, …

Hopelessness is the only thing left in your life. You can feel a new life growing in your womb. Every passing day brings you closer to doomsday. 

Soon you won’t be able to hide the secret. Soon everyone will know you got dishonored.

Foolish girl letting a man take what should have never been his.

You run your hand over your belly, choking out another sob. If you want to save what’s left of your honor, you must take matters into your own hands.

Shakily you glance at the balcony parapet again. If you do it now, you can save your honor, and your father’s. 

Stepping toward the parapet you release a shuddery breath.

What if it’s not high enough? What if you survive? What if they ask questions?

“No,” you step away from the parapet. This is the wrong way to go. You must let it look like an accident. Or maybe, if you can find someone selling you a potion, you can end your life painlessly and fast.

The river looked inviting to you. You looked at the floating water, fascinated by its power and grace.

Once upon a time, you were gracefully too. 

That was until your grace and innocence got ripped away from you like it meant nothing to him. “If I step into the river, it will be over soon. Maybe they will believe it was an accident. I slipped and fell into the river.”

Slowly, you stepped toward the water, closing your eyes for a moment. This was the only way to save your honor. The water would wash away the sin you committed and take your secret with it.

You took another step, and another until you felt the cold water kiss your feet. “Cold.” You whispered but walked farther into the water, feeling it tug at your gown. “It will be over soon, my little stardust.” You rubbed your belly. “I’m so sorry.”

The water surrounded you, almost reaching your waistline as you heard someone call for you. “Princess! NO!”

It was Lord Barnes. His heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw you in the river. He knew something was wrong with the way his friend acted out of a sudden.

“Nooo!” You heard the water splashing and then, two strong arms wrapped around you like anchors holding you in this world. “What are you doing, princess.”

“I cannot…he dishonored me,” you choked out a heartbreaking sob. “I cannot remain. No man will want me. Not after he took my innocence and…the baby…it will be a bastard.”

Lord Barnes stiffened when the words floated out of your mouth like the water in the river. He couldn’t believe his friend and confidant would do such a thing to you for revenge.

“My love. No,” he dragged you out of the water, and wrapped you in his arms, letting you cry in his chest until there were no tears left in you. Lord Barnes said. “Stay with me, my love. I’ll keep you warm. We need to keep each other warm.”

“But I—” You lifted your head to look at him with tear-clouded eyes. “You should’ve let me die. Father will…”

“He won’t know. Not about what happened with Steven, nor what you did today. What a coincidence I came by when you slipped and fell into the river,” he whispered and kissed your temple. “I came back to ask for your hand, and to wed you in spring.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his words. “I’m…ruined. You don’t want me, or my bastard child.”

“I will love it like my own, my love,” he kissed your cheek. “You are not ruined, princess. Only a little broken. But we can fix this. I got my heart broken once too. We will heal together.”

“My lord, the babe…it’s not yours…I can’t…you can’t.”

“It’s cold, let’s head back to the castle and get you warm. I’ll call for a healer…”

“Not a word about her condition except for the cold,” Lord Barnes warned the healer. “If you say a word about the other thing,” he patted his sword, “you won’t be able to spend all the gold you’ll get.”

“Not a word,” the healer nodded and walked back inside your room.

“Marry my daughter?” Your father eyed Lord Barnes warily. He came back a few days after Prince Steven and he left the castle. Alone, and with a grim expression. “But…what about the prince?”

“He’s a foolish man, my king,” Lord Barnes growled. “He lost his heart one too many times to a pretty face. I cherish your daughter, her grace, and her kindness. If you allow me to woo her, I’ll be forever grateful. I’m not a prince but love her dearly.”

“She admires you too,” the king replied. “She talked about you, and that you love to read as much as she does. If my daughter agrees, I’ll agree on your bond.”

Lord Barnes didn’t wait until spring to wed you. He insisted on marrying you within another month. 

You watched him with sad eyes as he desperately tried to fix his friend’s mistake.

“Lord Barnes, you can still find a better bride,” you took his hand to press a soft kiss on his knuckles. “I’m thankful that you tried to save my honor, but I cannot make you miserable for the rest of your life.”

“My love,” he whispered. “I fell for you the first time we met. If only I knew about Steven’s plans, I wouldn’t have stepped back and let him woo for you.”

“It’s not your fault, only mine,” you sniffled, and wiped your eyes. “I wasn’t raised to become a wench. I decided to let him do this to me…”

“Y/N, you’re not a w-.” He shook his head. “Never use that word again,” he angrily said. “He was the one stealing the light from you. You’re still an innocent angel.”

“I know that I’m not,” you hid your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to let the mask you wear so well slip. “You’ll get damaged goods, my Lord.”

“Call me James, or Bucky, my love,” he gently rubbed your back. “I promise, you are far from damaged goods for me. You are going to be my wife and I’ll love you. And the babe will get all my love too. They are going to mine.”

“What a beautiful pair, don’t you think?” Your mother asked. “She looks happy, my love.”

Your father smiled wildly as he watched you and your groom share the first dance. You smiled and laughed as Bucky twirled you around.

“I was worried about our daughter for a while. Prince Steven’s departure left her heartbroken,” the king held out his hand for his wife. “Let us join them and celebrate their union.”

The queen smiled and took your father’s offered hand. She didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

A mother always knows when her child is in need. 

She will never break her promise to herself and tell her husband that she saw you at the river when Lord Barnes saved you, or that she heard what you confessed.

“He is a good man, my love,” the queen whispered. “Our beloved daughter couldn't find a better man.”

While everyone celebrated your wedding and danced, Steven stood in a corner, watching you and his best friend happy together.

He squared his jaw and balled his hands into fists. His heart dropped watching Margaret and your brother join you on the dance floor. 

Everything he did was in vain…

Tags in reblog.

[warpfactorseven]

One of the things I find most interesting about Quark is his tendency towards self-sacrificing behavior. He purposefully antagonizes people and forces them to confront their own vulnerabilities. He does this by painting himself as the bad guy and hoping people will be more upset at him than they are at themselves and speak openly about their problems.

I think a good example of this is in The Ascent when Quark semi-correctly points out that Odo finally got what he wanted: to be a solid. Odo angrily denies this but also recognizes it to be true in a way. But it's the antagonism that makes it an effective way to broach the subject with Odo. Quark knows that his reputation is poor and people don't trust him, but that doesn't mean he can't help them. He'll gladly become the villain in any scenario so that people can save themselves. Another example is in The House of Quark when he helps Grilka regain her honor and the title to her family's property. He literally sacrifices himself in this case, manipulating D'Ghor into dishonoring and exposing himself, once again relying on the same antagonistic behavior to draw out the truth.

I find Quark's behavior interesting not only from a narrative perspective (where he serves as a vehicle for the self-actualization of the other characters) but also because it enriches his own character arc. Quark's deep affection for his friends is purposefully masked behind a distrustful facade, both to protect his own feelings and to uphold the patriarchal values of Ferengi society. He consistently demonstrates to the audience that the opposite is true; he's someone who cares, who is invested in the well-being of his community and of his friends. I think an appropriate analogue is Garak, who in episodes like In the Pale Moonlight chooses to damn himself in Sisko's place by killing Vreenak, knowing that he is capable of committing atrocities that others cannot. But unlike Garak, Quark chooses takes the fall because he has hope.

[lokorum]

what would you say is your favorite jonmichael fic..... im very curious and love to reread anything in that tag

oh but how can i pick only one when they all are so good??? (,,•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ,,)?

aaaaaa can i make the several honorable mentions of the fics that made me scream and roll on the floor?????? pretty please???

scheherazade was one of the first jonmichael fics that i found while going through all of the cher's works because, evidently, they have no fics that are not worth reading!! (i'm sorry if and forty feet down only confirming it!!!)

sleep inertia has one of the best dialogues i ever read!!! the way cruelzy writes michael's lines??? aaaaaaaaa its so delicious and believable and never for a second i thought i'm reading something out of canon?? its just that good. 

carousel is the only one fic (from what i found) that i set in the last season and its adds a lot of layers to that big jonmichael onion that torments my eyes for a while now ldkfjgkdfjg also it's messy?? i mean the whole situation in the fic?? its so humanly complicated and it does not gives you the chance to experience any of the feelings clearly and i love it!! screechfox somehow captured all of the complicated stuff in one fic, blendered it together and for the whole time i just couldn't take my eyes away from it. 

five times michael saves jon's life and one time he doesn't have to - is here to sooth our pain and heal our wounds. i reread it so many times!! the dynamic between jon and michael in it is one to live for!!! sometimes you think 5+1 kind of fics can't surprise you anymore and then the coolest author like paisleycowboys enters the room and proves you wrong. 

to be like super honest, the 100 ways to say i love you series, when i first saw it, made me think im not gonna like it? i love my fanfics long and scary and bittersweet and with a bad-very-not-good-endings, so the title of this one made me go "hmmmmm HMMMMM hmmmmm hmmmm?" but ive started to read it anyway, theres not that many fics on the ao3 for jonmichael, we cant afford to be capricious and gosh GOSH i was so fucking wrong!!! its sweet AND sad AND scary AND awkward (in a best way!!!) AND it made me giggle so many times!!! NeedsCaffeineRightNow can make even the edgiest of us enjoy the soft kinds of fics (its not hard when they are written with so much care and love.)

POSSESSIVE!! MICHAEL!! COMBING!!! JON'S!! HAIR!!!!!! what else do we need from life?

transition, every time i reread it or think about it, makes me painfully aware of how many things should coincide for something to work. it's not one of those fics that completely encompass you; nor its the one that leaves you with new headcanons or in a good mood, no, i think it's the one that leaves you in dissoray, making you want to argue with author, to ask them what were they thinking about, pointing on your weak sides like this?, giving you something precious and then stealing it away? pushing your old bruises? that is to say, i have nothing but deep respect for indefensibleselfindulgence. to write fic that makes you want to engage in conversation? thats powerful 

Our 'Angel' of Static and Bone is written so inexplicably good, that more than once i wondered, how NeverwinterThistle was able to do it? and then i realised they are one of my fave bg3 and dishonored authors phpphp but really, the care, the effort that went into this fic? they are literally visible! you can feel the amount of time and brain juice that went into writing it. and the neighbor character? they appeared like two times?? and still their addition left me speechless with how clever it is, how different!! absolutely amazing work.

adjective noun has jonmichael chapter (11) that destroyed me as a person i swear i laughed so hard i dropped my phone and just kept giggling face-into-the-pillow style!!!!!! its rare for the fics to bring you this childish kind of pure joy; the little in-between moment of forgetting about everything, good and bad, and just have a good time. this chapter is definitely one of those rare things and it also made me wish there would be more jonmichael fics from cuttoth. somehow they nailed everything that should be nailed about this ship and did it in a couple of pages, what a magical work!! 

and well, now here's my fave fic, the one that took my head, shaked it like it's a soda can, and then left it open, fountaining at first and then dented and empty. 

I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying is the work that made me grateful for the fact that i know how to read in english. its....mmmm, you know that feeling when fic makes you go through literally everything? and then, as a bonus, through all stages of grief as well?

first you get hooked up by the beautiful writing style and so you know the fic is gonna be good and you get comfortable and you turn yourself off from the rest of the world and you read. 

you love pov, you love mood shifts, you love pacing, you love when scenes are short and you pause to think about what happened / you love when scenes are long and you get overloaded with the simple things that make you feel complicated emotions, you love it all. 

then you start to wish it would never finish; you look at the scrolling bar from time to time, a little bit too aware of how much there's left to read, a little bit too anxious about it. and at the same time, the fic starts to make you feel safe, confident, that at least it's gonna be alright, its gonna be that one work that will replace the canon events for you. it was the

“Oh. Oh, Archivist, no. That’s not right at all,” you say to yourself as you watch him march into artefact storage, both hands clamped around an axe. 

On a whim, you decide to save him."

line for me for sure uhhh it still hits as good as the first time too 

and then you get to the ending and you just stare at the screen. that hollowing feeling slowly spreading inside you. *sigh* its the best sort of inspiration im sure, but its the worse one too. i have no idea how possessedradios and authors like them are able to write something that kills you, then reanimates you and then makes you sit in front of the tablet drawing hours non stop. ''I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying" is so beautiful its scares and fascinates me, just like the podcast did. hell, better then the podcast did.  i know its silly but i even named my fisrt fanart of michael as the title of the fic 👉👈

ahhhh SO i rumbled again SORRY!!!!!!! every time someone asks something from me its either "i'll reply later" (replies 10 years after) or "tolstoy, hold my fucking beer". but i really hope that fic writers, not only those who are mentioned here but like in general? know how much they affect other people!! how their work creates safe spaces for others!! how they make readers smile or cry, even if those readers (im not pointing finger on myself idk what you talking about pgphpphph) are little gremlins that leaving comments once in a decade....................

have fun time reading!! <3

btw im working on a little fanart rn............. (expressing my deepest grattitude to ao3 johmichael writers 😳🔪)

[gfmima]

category : 米哈游 原神 work title : “love bites”? more like, love does bite, eh?

humiliating. mortifying. there’s no other way to describe the sight of the nation’s number one detective, self-proclaimed, moseying down the city’s main thoroughfares in the middle of his work break. it was tough to figure out if he was simply aloof or ignorant of his surroundings.

bystanders gasp in shock as heads turn to look at the awful sight of him.

the icing on the cake was how he wore them in pride, as if it was a medal of honor he had won by merit. his little idiosyncrasies were expected by the residents of narukami island and his agreeable personality made it easier to bear, though this was going too far.

heizō’s flagrant show of what transpired on your late-night rendezvous prompted a wide range of responses. some were indifferent, others were downright scandalized by how shameless he was to carry himself in broad daylight… there are children here!

the elder citizens clutch their sango pearls in horror. what a time to be alive! a member of the tenryou commission had chosen to roam the streets while flaunting such blue marks littered all over his neck with great delight.

“oh, may the almighty raiden shogun have mercy on us all,” a graying woman prays to herself, wise eyes turn shut after the quick show of his bruised skin when he strides past her in the direction of the komore teahouse.

“celestia knows we need it.”

the highly esteemed tengu kujou sara thought of chastising him for his less than savory appearance once she caught wind of the snickering in the background. it was considered dishonorable to the kujou clan after all, a giant offense even. however, she was at a loss for words; too embarrassed over the suggestive nature of these blemishes.

hence, she placed the burden onto you instead.

wonderful.

“darling…”

“lovely…”

“light of my life? fine. i can speak for the two of us anyway,” heizō puffs his cheeks then sighs out loud, “in all honesty, i don’t understand why i’m the bad guy here. i didn’t do anything wrong?!” he shakes his head. “i’m willing to argue this goes against protocol since it involves my personal life and—HUH?”

your hands planted on either side of his face, squishing it to stop him from rambling on and on and on.

“heizou?”

“hmph?”

“shut up.”

you lean back to study your work.

he was very lucky you decided to bring your hand kinchaku today. without it, he would’ve been out of commission for a day or two. and although the beauty product failed to properly conceal the love bites, it did a pretty decent job. it was now impossible to see unless you squinted.

“please stop making this more difficult than it should be.” 

“b-but! why would you wish to conceal the evidence of your love for me?” you roll your eyes. how dramatic. heizou stares at you with a pitiful yet endearing look of desperation on his face. “it ISN’T noticeable, in fact, much of it is hidden by my collar.”

“don’t care, you’re the tenryou commission detective,”  you mumble, refusing to succumb to his request no matter how cutely he refutes the comments about his public indecency. “it’s inappropriate for you to come to work looking like this.”

“well, you weren’t thinking that last n—OUCH!” he pulls out the theatrics, massaging the spot you pinched with the sulk of sulkiest pout known to mankind. “it was the truth!”

a nosy architect observes and gives him a quick once-over, “i see you’ve woken up on the right side of the bed today.”

wanderer scoffs at him then returns his focus to the grand sage’s discussion with you on the akademiya’s renovation plans to accommodate more students by supplying better facilities. his gaze lingers on you instead, and kaveh wasn’t blind to his actions.

from the moment you stepped inside the room together, he sensed a change in the air. it was… eye-opening? to say the least.

he overheard the personal aid of lesser lord kusanali wasn’t the most pleasant of companions, yet you enter with a coy expression, which is rare for the recently elected sage of the rtawahist darshan.

“oh?”

kaveh draws his bottom lip between his teeth. it was fun to see the infamous man grow increasingly irritated by his inquisitive stare. “there is no need to get defensive. i’m not interested in what you and the new sage do in your outside of work… especially when you two are consenting adults.”

wanderer glares.

“right side of your face, below your ear.”

in an attempt to be as invisible to the naked eye as possible, he cranes his head downward in hopes that his hat obscures his face as he checks his reflection on the smooth marble flooring to figure out what the nosy blond was going on about.

upon seeing what he did, heat rushed into his system and dusted his cheeks.

the moron was telling the truth, he inwardly scoffs; a faint bruise paints his neck directly below his ear, leaving little to no room for interpretation.

it was loud and clear.

wanderer was thrown off his balance by its presence that he was hardly able to react to the architect’s snickering next to him. no number of years in this world could’ve prepared him for this tricky situation.

(he secretly adored it!)

he appreciated the lengths you went to let him understand how much you wanted him, desired him, but my goodness, couldn’t you have chosen a less noticeable part of his body?

perhaps his lower stomach?

maybe even his chest area?

there was no saving him now… he spent his morning hiking through the streets tending to nahida’s errands like checking on the welfare of its citizens, so he was hilariously late on conjuring up a fool-proof plan to hide it.

everyone and their mother saw it by now. he could only pray the opposite happened for the young archon.

he was abruptly removed from his thoughts by the sound of you bidding alhaitham farewell; doe-like eyes make contact with his wordless agreement to meet one another in private after the this.

he didn’t want to be too obvious, so he waited for everyone to finish their business and leave before he moved, thinking he could walk away scot-free.

alas, he spoke too soon.

“have a wonderful evening, my friend!” kaveh greets loud enough for many heads to turn and stare at him curiously.

he was definitely going to have a word with nahida about the grand sage’s associate.

[syn0vial]

Mand'alor the Pretender, Mand'alor the Resurgent: Boba Fett as the Leader of the Mandalorians in the Expanded Universe

Hello everyone! It's Syn with yet another Expanded Universe deep-dive, this time into the reign of Boba Fett as Mand'alor as portrayed in Boba Fett: A Practical Man and throughout the Legacy of the Force series of novels. Fett was indeed made Mand'alor some decades after the events of the Original Trilogy and this post will examine how he became ruler, his actions as leader, and how his reign connects with Mandalorian mythology regarding the relationship between Mandalore the planet and Mand'alor the ruler. I hope you enjoy!

Heir of the True Mandalorians

To understand how Boba Fett became Mand'alor, it's important to first understand his family background. Indeed, Boba was not the first Fett to be named Mand'alor; his father, Jango, also held the title during the tumultuous Mandalorian Civil War. Specifically, Jango served as the Mand'alor of the True Mandalorians, or Haat Mando'ade, a Mandalorian faction established by reformer Jaster Mereel that emphasized honorable conduct and strong community bonds. They were opposed in the civil war by the Death Watch, or Kyr'tsad, a Mandalorian splinter group that espoused ideals of Mandalorian supremacy and rule by brutality. The True Mandalorians would later be massacred by the Jedi in the Battle of Galidraan, and Jango, the sole survivor, would largely withdraw from Mandalorian society and quietly abdicate his claim as Mand'alor.

Despite their relatively short span of existence in Mandalorian history, the True Mandalorians had an outsized effect on Mandalorian cultural identity, with many Mandalorians adopting their tenets and valorizing their struggle against both Death Watch and the Jedi. Furthermore, as Mandalorian society became more suppressed and scattered following the Imperial occupation of Mandalore during the Galactic Civil War, some looked to the history of the True Mandalorians as a source of national pride and a symbol of renewed Mandalorian unity and prestige.

One such believer in the True Mandalorian cause was Fenn Shysa, who served as Mand'alor during and after the Imperial occupation of Mandalore. Widely adored for his charm and affability, Shysa nonetheless was determined to see the true heir of the Haat Mando'ade take the throne: none other than Boba Fett. Despite Boba's status as a Mandalorian being contested by many clans due to what was perceived as his dishonorable behavior, failure to uphold the Resol'nare, and the fact that he'd never completed his verd'goten due to his father's premature death, Shysa believed that Boba could serve as a powerful symbol for both the scattered Mandalorian people and the rest of the galaxy as both the heir to the True Mandalorian cause and a notorious warrior the galaxy-over.

Unfortunately for Shysa, Boba had no interest in taking up the mantle of Mand'alor. In light of Boba's unwillingness, Shysa pursued other leads for potential heirs of the True Mandalorian title, including Jango's sister Arla (who unfortunately had been rendered mentally unfit after her prolonged and torturous captivity under the Death Watch) and even one of Jango's clones, Spar, whom Shysa may or may not have presented to the galaxy as Boba Fett himself.

Yet, Shysa would eventually get his wish, though at a very high price. With a bounty placed on his head by Boba's former tutor, the Kaminoan Taun We, Shysa would come face-to-face with Boba himself on the planet Shogun. Despite being hired to kill Shysa, Boba would, due to events that are never fully explained, end up on the same side as him against an attack of Sevvet mercenaries. With the two of them overpowered, Shysa sacrificed his life to protect Boba and ordered Boba to kill him and take his place as Mand'alor. Indebted to Shysa for saving his life and unwilling to let him fall into the hands of the notoriously sadistic Sevvets, Boba would honor both of Shysa's requests.

Though it cost him his life, Shysa would see his ambition through in the end: the heir of Jango Fett now held the title of Mand'alor.

The Pretender Years: Mandalorian Deception During of the Yuuzhan Vong War

Boba's first test as Mand'alor would come fairly soon after he had taken power: an invasion by an extragalactic army known as the Yuuzhan Vong. These invaders intended to conquer the galaxy and either destroy, convert, or enslave all sentient life within it—but to do this effectively, they needed help. Namely, they needed denizens of their target galaxy to help them gather intelligence and do sensitive infiltration work that they themselves would be unable to carry out. For this, they approached a peoples whom they had found to be notorious for their mercenary natures, led by a man equally notorious for working with the worst of the worst: the Mandalorians and their Mand'alor Boba Fett.

While meeting with Boba and his second-in-command, Goran Beviin, aboard one of their ships, the Yuuzhan Vong commander Nom Anor presented their terms: work for the Yuuzhan Vong or be exterminated. Anor also made sure to present Boba and Beviin with two prisoners they had already taken, a Human and a Twi'lek male, outfitted with gruesome, surgically-implanted torture devices to demonstrate what would be in store for their people should they resist.

Deciding then and there that he despised the Yuuzhan Vong and that he'd do whatever was necessary to destroy them, Boba feigned indifference and, much to Anor's surprise, demanded a higher price: amnesty to the entire Mandalore sector, both during and after the invasion. Finding himself unable to sway Boba despite his repeated threats, Anor eventually agreed to the deal, buying Boba and Beviin much-needed time to prepare the Mandalorian people for their great deception.

The Mandalorian people would pretend to be traitors to their galaxy, serving the Yuuzhan Vong as spies and mercenaries—and all the while, they would sabotage the Yuuzhan Vong and funnel intelligence regarding their movements and tactics to New Republic command.

Under Boba, the Mandalorians would keep up this facade for much of the war, their intelligence proving instrumental in combating the invaders even while much of the galaxy believed them to be conspirators with the Yuuzhan Vong. Only towards the end of the war did their deception become known to the Vong, who responded with vicious, razed-earth attacks on the planet of Mandalore, not only killing its people but also carpet-bombing much of the planet's surface and poisoning the soil in an effort to render the planet uninhabitable.

Despite the heavy toll taken by the Mandalorians during the war, with their help, the galaxy was able to turn back the Yuuzhan Vong invasion and emerge victorious—though the challenges facing Mandalore and its people were still far from over.

Mandalore Resurgent: Post-War Aftermath and Policies

Following the war against the Yuuzhan Vong, Mandalore would find itself in a precarious position. With a third of its population destroyed, its industrial infrastructure in shambles, and much of its arable land poisoned, it was unclear whether the planet could even support its surviving clans. In addition, the Mandalorian deception that had proved so instrumental in turning the tide against the Yuuzhan Vong had worked a little too well; most of the galaxy still viewed the Mandalorians as traitors who had only turned against their Yuuzhan Vong handlers at the last minute. As a result, Mandalore was offered no aid whatsoever from the Galactic Alliance (formerly the New Republic) following the war in spite of the planet's dire straits.

Faced with these circumstances, Mand'alor Boba Fett pursued policies focusing on the internal restoration of Mandalore, including:

An immediate order for two million Mandalorians living in diaspora to return to Mandalore to help rebuild the planet. All returning Mandalorians were eligible receive an allotment of land, provided they agreed to restore it. Boba knew this was possible because he had seen Beviin, a farmer by trade, restore the land on his own farm.

Mandalore's official neutrality in the ongoing civil war between the Galactic Alliance and the Corellian Confederation. Individual Mandalorians were free to offer their mercenary services to whichever side they wished, but it was to be understood that Mandalore itself had no official involvement in the dispute.

The increased importation of food to Mandalore to feed the population until such a time that the planet's farming and infrastructure could sustain itself once more. Both Fett himself and the chief of MandalMotors would donate heavily to pay for these imports.

In addition to these policies, Mandalore would also benefit from a lucky break discovered more than a decade after the end of the Yuuzhan Vong war: a massive motherlode of beskar unearthed by the Yuuzhan Vong's extensive bombing of the planet. This discovery was extremely significant following the Imperial occupation of Mandalore, as it was believed that the Empire had completely strip-mined the planet bare of its beskar deposits. With both sides of the galaxy's newest civil war scrambling for weapons and armor, this newly discovered beskar would prove a massive economic windfall for the struggling Mandalorians, and also serve as the catalyst for MandalMotors creating the first-ever beskar-plated starfighter, the Bes'uliik.

Mirrored Destinies: Connection to Mandalorian Mythology

As an ending note to this lore post, I'd like to share a piece of Mandalorian mythology and how we see it exemplified in Boba's rule as Mand'alor. According to this belief, the fate of Mand'alor the leader and Mandalore the planet are inextricably tied; the two are synonymous to the point where, if something happens to one, whether for good or ill, one expects to see it reflected in the other. And this is absolutely the case in Boba's story.

Consider: when Boba first becomes Mand'alor, he finds himself leading a planet still recovering from Imperial rule. It is largely believed to have been robbed of its defining resource, its beskar, and thus, its soul has been stolen. Similarly, Fett himself is perceived to have "sold his soul" to the Imperials. He is the heir of the Haat Mando'ade, someone who is meant to embody the Mandalorian ideal as expressed by his grandfather Jaster Mereel, but that hope for him appears to have been in vain. He is isolated from the Mandalorians and has spent much of the past few decades at the beck and call of their enemies. He, like Mandalore, has enriched the Empire at the expense of his people.

Then, the Yuuzhan Vong War happens. Mandalore the planet is poisoned and no longer self-sustaining. Coincidentally, soon after the end of the war, Fett finds out that he is dying of a terminal genetic illness due to his cloned DNA. Both he and Mandalore are dying together.

But he doesn't go down without a fight. He learns to rely on others, such as Beviin, Mirta, and the other Mandalorians. With them, he is able to find a cure and begin the process of recovery. And, just like its Mand'alor, Mandalore is able to come back from the brink by the same means. It needs others to care for it, to restore it. Only then can it become a viable homeland once more.

Finally, after all that misfortune and suffering—because of the misfortune and suffering—both the planet and the man are revealed to not be so bereft and without soul as originally thought. In the crater of Yuuzhan Vong desolation, a new motherlode of beskar is found. In the midst of illness, war, and grief, something like a true Mandalorian is found—someone who cares for his people, his clan, and his planet. Both Mand'alor and Mandalore thus go through an arc of loss, desolation, interdependence with others, and finally, resurgence and rebirth. In this way, Boba Fett embodies the myth of the inextricable connection between Mandalore the planet and Mand'alor the man.

[ilynpilled]

i think an interesting factor that is not acknowledged by fandom is what exactly is indicated in the text that cersei and jaime’s plan was and how old they were when they came up with it. this doesnt confirm that they intend to continue a sexual affair during a royal marriage, only to not be separated/be near eachother always. though i understand that cersei convinces jaime also through a passionate sexual act (not confirmed what degree) and the high had effect on jaime’s decision making, and they have experimented with sexual acts of some sort already as children, and there is no doubt in my mind that they have a skewed understanding of how they love each other like “our love is natural law”, but there are a lot of other things we know: everybody in the equation assumes there will be a royal marriage hence cersei would remain in KL and they would be “near each other always”, and an affair would be treason punishable by death. they do know it will not be the same as it was before because cersei will get married, even if jaime doesn’t. cersei was already infatuated with rhaegar, and says she expected and wanted to be his queen, wife, and the mother of his children. this is much later and a lot of other things happen, but the last time we know the twins have sex (confirmed penetrative sex. cersei says “i fucked jaime” verbatim) is right before the wedding with robert, and after the married couple emerge from the sept, jaime is obviously distraught. why? wasn’t this the plan all along? ofc there is jealousy, but i argue that because they know this marks the end of the relationship. jaime is already at a point where he is pretty disillusioned with every other major value in his life: honor, glory, knighthood, and heroism. and he gave up everything else he had, a lot of free will/lands/titles etc, to be close to cersei, so all that remains to him is love (which is arguably the most important thing to him), which we know he also considers a vow, though more abstract and personal. cersei experiences disillusionment during the bedding when robert calls her lyanna. it is a similar epiphany to the crowd cheering for jaime after he is raised to the kg at harrenhal, him being content enough despite other aspects of this plan falling apart (he joined because of cersei, but “honor and glory played their part” & “that boy wanted to be ser arthur dayne.” aspirations for knighthood and heroism are clearly there) until actually finding out that aerys chose him as a pawn against tywin and not as a knight, his position is without much meaning, and he wants “to rip off his white cloak” but knows he can’t because, not only was he already selected, he had sworn the oaths now too. and of course, cersei’s experience also gets much worse from this point on, just like how jaime’s got worse as a kg, and how his understanding of so many things he idealized was torn apart, and he is confronted with how these things work and contradict in reality. but what i really want to highlight is that when they are at greenstone, about a year into the marriage, robert starts cheating on her with a female cousin:

cersei sends jaime to confirm her suspicions, and he returns with the question of “do you want him dead for it?” both of them are mad at robert for dishonoring her and breaking his marital vows, why would they be if they are already cheating too? i get that these are the lannister twins, but then cersei says “no. i want him horned.” horned means cucked, and the indication here is that robert had not been horned yet at this point. this is where the affair seems to start, there is no evidence for the contrary afaik. it is also obviously 100% penetrative sex, hence cersei can believe it is when joffrey was conceived. and it happened primarily in retaliation against robert. destructive codependent incest spawning as a result of complex family dynamics and parental neglect aside, at every turn it is highlighted that this affair is also a product of a lot of systemic issues and the twins’ disillusionment, but focusing more on cersei and her being stuck in an abusive and unwanted marriage: the husband is free to cheat on her with no risk or consequences, unlike her, and does so. the bitterness from this influences her to retaliate with an affair of her own. not to mention she is fighting back against her rapist the only way she can, and refuses to bear his children, which is again, the limited form of retaliation she has. she could accept jaime’s proposal to kill robert for her, but this could lead to jaime’s death (she outright says this in agot when she says that jaime would have killed robert even if it cost him his own life if he saw the bruises + the same proposal down the line could also threaten her life and the life of her children if this murder is investigated. + i do think part of her just wants revenge. she wants to retaliate in this way where she has the power). i just dont think people simplifying this situation and implying that “the twins intended and would 100% have ‘fucked up their own lives’ and ‘threatened the realm’ with an affair during a royal marriage no matter what.” stands. idk, maybe it is just my preference, but to me it makes sense that even with tywin’s rearing they couldve grown out of this dysfunctional relationship as they got older and gained maturity, but instead everything gets worse and pushes them into embracing the illusion of eachother more than ever.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Wangxian, Jiang Cheng, The Ancestral Hall, and who was really dishonorable during that confrontation

Some terms and accepted commonalities of traditional early ancestral worship, that is not to be confused with what is seen in smaller tighter family homes with less of the previous community focus:

祠堂 Ancestral Hall or 家廟 Family Temple (used less often as the basis of the temple is to promote strong lineage worship and filial piety of past generations that helped to grow a strong long line and respecting what had come before)

A building where members of a particular clan gather to honor their ancestors. An ancestral temple can serve clan members of a village or local area who all share common ancestors or, on a larger scale, it can serve all the clan members of a longer lineage. It is usually named after a certain ancestor, such the common ancestor of the clan members who first inhabited the village or the founder of the lineage.

An ancestral temple would be open on a regular basis for those wishing to offer prayers for good health, success, etc, in the same way that temples housing the images of traditional deities would be open.

Due to how prevalent Ancestral worship is and as shown within MDZS, the heavy community based aspect of the sects are the basis of Wei Wuxian's own visit to the shrine, and traditionally, was the most respectful action to take to those that had raised him, not as an inner Jiang, but overall the clan of Yunmeng Jiang that had once been open to all disciples that wished to be a part of Yunmeng Jiang.

These halls, unlike current real life family altars, were open to all who wished to pay respects to the ancestors/clan of that province. (Lotus Pier's hall is not designated to the inner sanctum of just Jiang Cheng's estates and is for all disciples/ties to the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, however distant. Wei Wuxian despite his nebulous status within the Jiang family was still once considered formerly of Yunmeng and was his relevant filial ties and guardianship. As such, it is only respectful to confer with the dead that had such significance in his life to allow continued peace of the dead as well as reverence in asking for their blessings as he found a prospect for marriage as it was traditional for the bride (groom in this case) to be presented to those who had been considered as parents/family.

It is also unbecoming to bring negativity within the ancestral hall as it is a place to acknowledge what the living had been given and granted due to the dead's actions (karma) and to be granted a good life in return for that show of respect.

As such, Jiang Cheng himself does not make mention the good the Jiangs had done, only focusing on how the living are causing him problems, disrespecting the rest that the dead spirituality have been blessed with and no actual respect upon their lives as he hyperfocuses on the death and it's impact upon him. Wangxian in the traditional wuxia setting and tropes fit tightly as well worshipping visitors, the heroes of these novels always display upright morality of filial piety and Confucian ideals of the practice.

Jiang Cheng, ironically despite his speeches of his family and besmirching of their honor, is the one to do just that as he goads Wei Wuxian into the personal strife that the Jiangs have no longer been apart of for years and represents another bad omen of his granted title.

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 5

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

Warnings: Please check masterlist for warnings. This work is 18+, MDNI

Masterlist

As the hours passed, Viserea became more and more sure of herself, though her anger never faded. When the Stepstones came into view, Viserea spotted Daemon and Corlys’ army on Dwarfstone and steered Tessarion towards the island.

Tessarion landed on Dwarfstone a moment after Ser Addam’s unfortunate introduction to Daemon’s anger. It was her’s and Viserea’s landing that distracted Daemon and allowed for Ser Addam to be pulled away from him.

Viserea felt the eyes of the army on her as she walked up to the stone slab being used as a makeshift table to hold War Councils, but she did not allow for their gazes to intimidate her. She kept her head held high and her helmet tucked under her arm before dropping her bag next to the slab.

“We don’t need any help from the King.” Daemon said, his tone lazy and almost offended at her arrival.

“Do you really believe the King allowed for a Princess to leave the safety of the keep and enter a war ground?” Viserea replied, sarcasm lacing her voice.

“Then why are you here?” He asked.

“I’m here to fight.” Viserea said, and before she could reply, a knight in the Velaryon colors whose name Viserea didn’t know spoke up.

“You’re a Princess. A war ground is no place for you, you need to be back in King’s Landing where it’s safe. You’re much too valuable.” His tone showed sincere worry for her, but it only made Viserea’s blood boil more.

“You’re correct, I am a Princess. And Daemon is a Prince. Our titles are of equal importance and he is allowed to fight. There’s another Princess who’s your future Queen still back in King’s Landing where it’s safe. If Daemon is allowed to fight, I see no reason why I should not be allowed. It’s not like my dragon and I would hurt your cause,” Viserea snapped in response.

It was obvious to everyone there that something had happened involving Viserea back in King’s Landing. There was no way Viserys would have ever allowed her to enter a war ground, but it was clear to everyone that she wasn’t going to just walk away because of lack of permission.

“We could use another dragon, especially one of Tessarion’s size. She’s grown since I was last in King’s Landing and she looks to be larger than even Caraxes. Her dragon alone could turn the fates.” Corlys said after a moment of silence.

Viserea wasn’t sure why Corlys’ support surprised her, but she looked towards him and gave him a small nod in thanks to which he returned.

“That’s too bad, she’s going back to King’s Landing,” Daemon said, leaning over the stone table as if to say the conversation was finished.

Viserea was tired of being dismissed. Her choice in her own marriage had been dismissed. Her opinions on council matters were dismissed. She wouldn’t be dismissed again all because she was a woman.

She grabbed hold of the shoulder of Daemon’s armor and turned him so he was forced to look at her as she spoke,

“No matter what the whispers in Flea Bottom are, my father did not name me Viserea because of the supposed favoritism he showed towards one brother. My mother and father named me after the great Queen Visenya who fought alongside Aegon the Conqueror, placed the crown upon Aegon’s head, and was the first to hail him as King. My dragon was named to honor the goddess of Old Valyria that makes dreamers such as myself. I understand the honor in being given these names and I do not intend to bring them dishonor by lying around King’s Landing when there is a war to be fought.“

Violet eyes met violet eyes and Viserea noticed a change in Daemon’s that she couldn’t name. It did not match the smirk that came across his face as he spoke again,

“Alright then, Princess. You’ll fight.”

Viserea felt her stomach churning as she and Laenor Velaryon sat atop their dragons, waiting for their signal to take flight. She knew the plan was a smart one and the best chance they had, but she still didn’t like it. She didn’t like Daemon being alone and surrounded by the enemy, even though she knew he was capable of handling himself until the signal was given and she and Laenor were allowed to enter.

The minutes felt like an eternity, but eventually the signal was given and the two dragonriders gave their commands at the same time.

It was not hard for Viserea to find Daemon from the skies above, the army surrounding him giving away his exact location. As Laenor gave the command to Seasmoke to set fire to the archers perched on a ledge of one of the surrounding hills, Tessarion flew over him and Viserea steered her closer to Daemon.

“Dracarys!” Viserea shouted, feeling relief as the flames escaped Tessarion’s mouth and cascaded down upon the Crabfeeder’s men.

As Corlys’ and Daemon’s men flooded the beach and began fighting, Viserea kept Tessarion steady above Daemon, just as they had planned. Laenor and Seasmoke were aiding in taking down as many of the Crabfeeder’s men as possible while Viserea and Tessarion worked on strictly defending Daemon; they were trying to give him an open path to the Crabfeeder himself.

The two spotted him retreating into a cave at the same time, and before Viserea could give the command, Tessarion let another breath of dragonfire fall to the ground below and clear a path for Daemon.

Once Daemon was inside the cave, Viserea steered Tessarion away and let her breathe fire into all of the surrounding caves to ensure that no other men were within them. She turned her attention back to the beach and began helping Laenor set alight the ones left.

Vaemond was the first to notice Daemon’s return, but Viserea noticed him a couple moments later. Tessarion’s fire halted, spotting the Crabfeeder’s body, or the portion that was left, being dragged by Daemon to the ocean. Viserea watched Daemon as she heard the last of the Crabfeeder’s men that decided to still fight be killed, then steered Tessarion back to the camp with Laenor and Seasmoke.

Laenor and Viserea walked back to the stone table where the rest of the men eventually arrived, all of them now in good spirits. The past three years had been spent trying to kill the Crabfeeder and rid the area of the Triarchy, and they had finally accomplished it. Daemon was the last to arrive, now soaking wet but rinsed of all blood, and Viserea could hear Caraxes screech happily at seeing his rider unharmed.

Before Viserea could ask what would happen next, a knight standing a couple people away from her shouted out,

“To Daemon Targaryen! King of the Narrow Sea!”

Cheers of other knights followed and Corlys made his way over to Viserea as the cheers continued,

“How do you feel? Your uncle is being hailed King of the Narrow Sea as we speak and you and your dragon helped. Your presence and importance here will be written about, the same way you will be written about when Rhaenyra ascends the throne and you are made Hand to the Queen.” He asked her, a small smile on his face.

“I feel relieved the war is over and honored to have been chosen by Rhaenyra personally as her Hand.” Viserea answered automatically, unsure if Corlys was genuinely asking or if there was another motive behind it.

“A Princess’ answer… yet you traveled here in spite of your King’s wishes and the honor you feel at being chosen as Rhaenyra’s hand.” Corlys replied and revealed what he really wanted to know: why?

“I traveled here despite knowing what the King would have wanted, the same way he rejected the offer for my hand that I wanted to take despite him saying it would be my choice.” Viserea said, looking up at Corlys. A smirk crossed over their faces at the same time and Corlys even let out a small laugh.

“And did you ignore Rhaenyra’s wishes when you left?” Corlys questioned.

“It was her idea for me to leave. When I tried to argue that a Hand does not simply abandon her Queen because she is upset by others’ actions, she said that new opportunities could present themselves that would be valuable to her once she ascends the Iron Throne.” Viserea answered, still looking up at the man. He took a moment to reply, but he seemed satisfied by the answer.

“While I wish no harm to King Viserys, I look forward to seeing the throne run by a Queen that is confident enough to separate from her Hand for unknown amounts of time, and a Hand that is not only unafraid of putting her foot down to defend her stances, but is also unafraid of danger if it advances her Queen. As you have seen, trying to keep peace is not always the best way.” Corlys’ praise brought a rose tint to Viserea’s cheeks.

Her’s and Rhaenyra’s ways were always causes of complaints with Viserys. Never had he praised them for their stubborn nature or determination. It had always just seemed to annoy him as they were unwilling to give into his every whim and will.

Viserea didn’t know how to reply to Corlys’ praise, but she wasn’t given much of a chance to, either. He was pulled away from her as his knights needed his attention for some matter or another.

The sun had set behind the rocks of the island and fires were being lit and various forms of meat being roasted. The knights had begun to talk amongst themselves and Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor were gathered around a fire of their own. Viserea went to sit beside them when a grip on her armor stopped her. Turning, she saw Daemon looking down at her,

“Come with me.”

Viserea did as told. Daemon’s tone hadn’t revealed anything and she was unsure what his response to her being there would be now that the fighting was over. The last she had seen him was when she and Rhaenyra had flown to Dragonstone to retrieve Baelon’s egg that he had stolen.

Her anger had faded by now and it was obvious by the way she and Rhaenyra both clung to every word of news about him that they still cared deeply for him. Viserea knew she had changed in the last three years and Daemon’s disrespectful antics held no importance to her anymore.

There had been many nights that Viserea and Rhaenyra spent talking about their uncle. Their feelings for him confused even themselves. While their anger and hurt had faded every time they heard news of the war in the Stepstones until all that was left was worry and concern for him, it seemed as though the fantasy they shared of him being the one to marry both of them was meant to be just a fantasy. The longer the two of them went without speaking to him, the more they had begun to focus on finding their second best option: finding two husbands who would not keep the two of them apart. Viserea mentioning Daemon’s name as one of the only two men she would ever marry surprised her as much as it had surprised Viserys.

Viserea was shaken from her thoughts when Daemon stopped at a tent set away from the rest. He held it open and tilted his head towards it,

“Change, then we can eat.” He said in the same unreadable tone as before.

Viserea nodded and stepped inside, Daemon dropping the bag she had brought to the floor just inside. She hadn’t even realized he had picked it up. She changed into her riding gear, save for the coat she usually wore over it all. She purposely had left her nightclothes back in the Keep, not feeling comfortable wearing them in front of so many knights. Her riding gear was comfortable enough for her to sleep in and more practical for fighting if they were woken in the middle of the night.

Once she was done, Viserea stepped outside the tent and found Daemon had removed his armor and was now sitting in only the pants that were worn under his armor. A quick glance around the camp told Viserea that this was normal as none of the men seemed to be wearing more than that. She sat on the same side of the fire as Daemon, but far enough away that she wasn’t sitting directly next to him. Some kind of animal sat roasting above the fire and the hunger she had been ignoring made itself known.

A million thoughts ran through her mind, but none of them seemed like the right thing to say. What do you say to someone you hadn’t seen until you flew in on your dragon and demanded to be allowed to fight in the war they had been fighting for three years in a place they were now being hailed as King of?

“You’re wearing the rings, but not the earrings.” Daemon suddenly said, breaking the silence.

Viserea glanced down at her hands, absentmindedly turning the only ring she wore,

“I gave the earrings to Rhaenyra before I left,” She told him, looking back into the fire and trying to ignore the way his stare on her made her heart hammer in his chest.

“Why?” He asked her, but there were so many things he could’ve been asking “why” about, that Viserea didn’t give a straight answer.

“What exactly are you questioning?” Viserea returned, arching an eyebrow though she kept her face pointed to the fire.

“All of it, I suppose. Why did you leave her the earrings? Why did you leave? Why did you come here?”

“I left the earrings with her because it seemed a shame for them to simply sit and collect dust. I came here because Viserys would immediately send men to Dragonstone to look for me there. I left because I needed to leave for a while and Rhaenyra agreed,” she kept her responses short. Caring for him didn’t mean she trusted him wholly again. If he truly wanted to know more, he could question her the way she knew he was capable of.

Daemon sighed beside her and Viserea bit back a smirk. He knew the game she was playing and knew that he was going to have to work for her answers. For all the anger she had felt, the fraction of annoyance she was going to cause him was well deserved.

“Why did you need to leave King’s Landing and Rhaenyra, and why did you need to come somewhere that the Crown would not immediately send men to in order to retrieve you, and why did you leave with plans to be away for a while?” Daemon questioned, his tone differing now. There was now genuine curiosity.

“I was tired of being treated differently while Viserys swore he viewed Rhaenyra and I the same. He arranged a proposal for Rhaenyra with Jason Lannister at Aegon’s nameday a sennight ago. Harwin Strong offered his hand to me the same day, but it was not Viserys’ doing. The day after we returned, the same day Ser Addam set sail to bring the notice of the Crown offering you resources, he informed Rhaenyra and I that we would be allowed to choose our own suitors. I told him of Harwin’s proposal and he told me earlier today that he would not approve of the marriage,” Viserea paused, allowing Daemon to ask any questions he may have.

“Why does he not approve?” Daemon questioned to which Viserea sighed,

“He said that Harrenhaal’s loyalty was already ensured with our Master of Laws and that other houses might take it as a slight if father were to be Master of Laws and son was to be wed to the future Hand. He told me we needed to expand our allies,” Viserea answered with a sarcastic laugh, “I held nothing back after that and told him exactly how I have felt during my last couple years of being in court.”

“And will I have the honor of hearing what you told him?” Daemon asked with the same curiosity as earlier.

“You will, but I have to warn you that it is not my proudest moment. There were some comments that are unbefitting for a Princess.” Viserea said, finally looking at Daemon with a teasing gleam in her eyes.

“Well then you must remember that I am the King’s brother when you tell me this. I might have your head for treaso,.” Daemon teased in return, causing Viserea to smile and let out a small laugh.

She knew she should not be so eager to let him in again, but she felt the walls she had tried to keep up come crumbling down. Walls never stood a chance against dragons and the fire they breathed.

Her smile fell when she began to recount her words, knowing that some of the comments she had made were out of line and that Viserys could have easily had her tongue for them, and that she had even mentioned not wanting to end up with a marriage like Daemon’s own,

“I told him that his planned proposal for Rhaenyra and nothing for me proved that he did not view me as his daughter. I told him he viewed you and me as nothing but political pawns and that I would not be married off to someone I cannot stand to be around, that I would never consummate the marriage, and that it would be annulled once Rhaenyra ascended the throne,” She saw a familiar flash of emotion across Daemon’s face when she said this. It was familiar because it was one that she herself had worn any time the realization hit her again, “I then told him I would not suffer the same fate as Aemma because he married me off to a man that valued my position as Hand more than he did me and one that only wanted heirs. I finally listed the two men I would take in marriage and have heirs with, and that if my marriage was to neither of those men, I would do everything in my power to ensure I never produced a child so that Rhaenyra could annul it and allow me to marry who I choose.” Viserea’s voice had grown as cold as it had earlier that day, as if she was saying it all to Viserys all over again.

“So you ran away to avoid losing your head?” Daemon said, trying to tease her although the same energy wasn’t behind it as before. Viserea shook her head but allowed a small smile on her face at his comment,

“It was not my idea to leave King’s Landing. I returned to my chambers and Rhaenyra was already there, wanting to know Viserys’ response to the proposal. I told her what had happened and everything I had said, and she suggested I leave to show I was not just going to accept whatever his response was. She said she would distract him by saying she wanted to tour Westeros in search of a husband and that I should leave to see if new opportunities present themselves.”

“You’re leaving out important details,” Daemon accused, and Viserea found him staring at her already when she looked back up to him, “Details that explain why coming to a war ground was the best plan instead of a childish one.”

“Reflecting on it, the details don’t make it any less dangerous. My lack of self preservation still helped you today, though. You are now King of the Stepstones and there is no denying that Tessarion aided in that,” Viserea replied, knowing the details would make everything make sense. She didn’t want Daemon to know that she had named him as one of the two men she would marry, though. Not yet. Not unless there was some sign that he wanted the same.

Daemon shrugged at Viserea’s comment, not bothering to deny that Tessarion had helped,

“You and your dragon helped today. You could not see the surprise on the Triarchy men’s faces when a dragon larger than Caraxes appeared over the horizon. However, being hailed as King of the Stepstones was not my motivation for fighting here.”

“What was?” Viserea asked, looking up at him again at the same time as he looked to her.

“You tell me the missing details, and I’ll tell you my motivation,” Daemon offered.

“Make the offer again before we go to sleep, and I might accept,” Viserea told him, wanting to enjoy the rest of their night together before she possibly ruined it.

“I can deal with that,” Daemon told her before switching to another subject. Then another. And then another.

The two ate the roasted meat as they discussed everything that had happened over the last two years, from stories of how Daemon had conquered each of the islands of the Stepstones, to Viserea revealing the only dream she had seen was the one of the White Hart showing itself to Rhaenyra at Aegon’s nameday. They spoke to and teased each other as if no time had passed. When asked, she explained the details of how Harwin had offered his hand to her.

“He said that he understood my loyalty to Rhaenyra and he would not try to stand in the way of it…” She paused, watching his face carefully as she spoke, “He said that my loyalty to her would make me the best Hand she could ask for.”

Daemon nodded, his face showing nothing that alarmed Viserea to try and take back her words or hide their meaning.

“Even as young children, you and Rhaenyra showed a certain… devotion to each other.” The use of the word “devotion” sent Viserea’s heart racing, but if Daemon had noticed any change in Viserea, he did not let him stop, “It was a common topic between Viserys, Aegon, and I. I suspect that your loyalties to each other have grown over the past couple years with the betrayal the two of you would have felt due to Viserys’ marriage to Alicent… among other things,” Daemon said and Viserea knew that mentioning other betrayals was his way of acknowledging his wrongdoings.

Viserea nodded in confirmation,

“Rhaenyra is the only person whom I have never doubted the loyalty of, and I know she has never doubted mine,” Viserea said, trailing off before asking, “What did you, my father, and Viserys say of Rhaenyra and mine’s devotion?”

Daemon chuckled at the question, as if it and the answer was amusing to him, “Their opinions differed from mine own. They said it was nice to see the two of you acting as sisters instead of mere cousins and hoped the two of you continued to remain so close as genuine trust is not something you can place in just anyone inside the Keep.”

“And what caused your own opinion to differ?” Viserea asked him, not realizing she had turned her body to face him completely as she awaited his answer.

He turned his head so he was no longer watching the fire and was instead watching her, his eyes casting over her face in an attempt to watch for any slight change, “I started by agreeing with them, saying that the two of you were sisters in some other lifetime. My opinion changed slowly over time, there was no certain moment that defined the change. The moment that my opinion was proven true, whether Viserys wishes to see it or not, was when all of the houses were called to swear their loyalty to you and Rhaenyra as Heir and Hand.”

Confusion made its place on Viserea’s face, “You were there?”

“I would not have missed it,” Daemon answered quickly, as if the idea of missing it was an insult to him and his tone allowed for no argument.

Viserea nodded, deciding not to ask where he was and instead returning back to the original topic, “What was it about that day that made your opinion change?”

“Everything. The devotion in your voice, the way the two of you were unable to keep your eyes off of each other, the look you gave to anyone who showed any sign of hesitation to Rhaenyra.”

Viserea dropped her gaze from Daemon and focused on her hands where she was absentmindedly toying with the ring he had given her, “And what did your opinion change to?” Viserea asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Daemon didn’t reply at first, his eyes not leaving Viserea’s face. The shaking in Viserea’s voice had already confirmed to him that he was right. Viserea finally looked back up at him, and Daemon stood up then kicked out what was remaining of the fire. He offered a hand to her and guided her inside of the small tent.

The other knights’ fires gave enough light that Viserea could make out the objects inside the tent, but not enough that either of them would be able to read the other’s expressions.

Daemon motioned for Viserea to sit next to him on the small pile of blankets inside the tent and she lowered herself to the spot, staying quiet as she awaited his answer to her previous question.

“My opinion is that the feelings the two of you share something far beyond devotion and loyalty, and that Harwin, along with whoever the other man is, are the only two men whose hands’ you will accept in marriage because they are the only two you trust to allow your relationship with Rhaenyra to continue,” Daemon finally said.

For some reason, Daemon knowing of her and Rhaenyra did not cause anymore anxiety to make it’s home inside of her. Instead, she felt relief.

“How long have the two of you kept it hidden?” Daemon asked.

“Four years. Amarda and Ser Ryden have known of it since the first year,” Viserea said, looking at him.

“So many people in that Keep that are supposed to attend to the two of you and yet all but four people are completely blind to the two of you,” Daemon said with a note of exasperation in his voice.

Viserea giggled at his words and the truth behind them, “Don’t get too confident in your abilities to see through us. One of your opinions was only partially correct.”

“And which opinion was that?” He questioned, looking to her and making Viserea realize just how close the two of them were.

“If I answer that, it reveals the details I was leaving out earlier. Tell me your motivation for your fighting here and I’ll tell you the details and in what way your opinion was wrong,” Viserea offered to him, waiting as he debated the offer.

He took a breath before speaking, as if he didn’t want to agree to to the terms, but he knew that arguing with Viserea was useless,

“My motivation was you and Rhaenyra. I stole Baelon’s egg to spite Viserys and the two of you. I saw the way the two of you acted with each other when Rhaenyra was named heir and knew I had no chance of coming between you. I brought Mysaria to Dragonstone and fooled myself into thinking I loved her, and I had no problem setting the Gold Cloaks to the men who joined Otto Hightower to retrieve the egg while I handled Otto myself. I don’t know what I thought would come of that day if it came to a fight. Seeing Tessarion and Syrax land on the bridge changed my mind. I knew I wasn’t capable of hurting Rhaenyra and I was not dumb enough to think you would let me walk away if I did. The two of you left and Mysaria left soon after and I was relieved she was gone. Corlys came to me soon after. He was talking of the war here and I pretended to care about the reasons he gave me for why I should care. I came here because he mentioned the power they were gaining and the threat it would be to Westeros if left alone. I came here because I assumed I knew it was the only way to keep the two of you safe. If we won the war, the two of you were safe; and if they killed me, then it would force my brother to finally take action.”

Daemon’s words had caused a number of emotions to stir in Viserea. They had not looked away from each other the entire time and he had spoken his words without pause which Viserea was grateful for. She wouldn’t have known how to respond part way through. The logical part of her brain told her that she shouldn’t believe his words, or that she should at least be wary of them. The logical part of her brain told her that Daemon had hurt her and Rhaenyra before and that he could be lying. But it was Daemon and Rhaenyra that had always encouraged her to trust her intuition. ‘You are a dreamer. Do you think Tessarion, the very Goddess that gifted you with dreams, would only help you with dreams? Trust your intuition.’

Her intuition was telling her that he was being truthful and to trust him one final time.

“You were wrong about the second man whose hand I would take. Harwin Strong would allow for Rhaenyra and I to continue our relationship, but the second man would do more than that. He would do what Harwin could not,” Viserea told him, the two of them still watching each other’s faces. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, she could make out more of his features, but not enough to read everything that flickered across his face. “Rhaenyra and I’s opinion of him and what he would do is the same.”

“What do the two of you believe he would do?” Daemon asked quickly, as if he was unwilling to wait for an answer.

“We believe he would take both of us as his wives… that he would marry us in the ways of Old Valyria…” Viserea said with a quiet but confident voice. She knew her mention of Old Valyria would confirm any doubts he may have had left about who she and Rhaenyra had discussed.

“A marriage that only Valyrian blood could complete,” Daemon said, his voice just as quiet as hers.

“A marriage that would bring three dragons together, just like those in the sigil of our house,” Viserea confirmed.

“You and Rhaenyra have thought about this for some time,” Daemon pointed out, his tone neutral.

“It’s been an idea that neither of us can rid our minds of.”

“King Viserys would never allow it,” Daemon pointed out, “and I am still married.”

“We have thought of Viserys’ reaction already,” Viserea said, “We’re unsure how to erase your marriage since he is the only one with that power, but we have thought of how to marry without Viserys’ blessing.”

“Tell me how you plan to work around the King,” Daemon commanded, though his voice had not risen in volume.

“It is not a perfect plan by any means,” Viserea warned, “however, it is the best we could come up with until Rhaenyra is Queen. You and I would be wed first, as it would cause the least amount of strife. We do not need the King’s blessing if we take to Dragonstone and are wed by Maester Gerardys in the ways of Valyria. Rhaenyra would propose a marriage to Laenor Velaryon-“

“I am not sure he would be interested in any maidens offering their hand,” Daemon said, cutting off Viserea, though Viserea quickly replied,

“Which would mean he would be willing to keep Rhaenyra and I’s own activities a secret. The marriage would hide his own interests and Rhaenyra’s.”

Daemon stayed silent as he seemed to consider the idea. He had never been one to back away from something just because of the challenge it presented, but this was something that would be difficult on all fronts.

“The marriage would continue until Rhaenyra is Queen?” Daemon questioned.

“We could have all three of us married in Dragonstone with a single raven to Rhaenyra, but there is enough strife between Viserys and you and me without seeming to steal Rhaenyra away,” Viserea explained. It was obvious as she explained all of her and Rhaenyra’s plan that they had spoken in detail of this multiple times and at great lengths, “She is telling him she wishes to sail all of Westeros to look for a suitor, and at the end of it, she will say she wants to wed Laenor. This would end the mess Viserys has made between himself and Corlys, as his son would be Prince, and his grandchildren would sit upon the Iron Throne after Rhaenyra. Once Rhaenyra is Queen, she will have the power to do as she pleases, if another opportunity has not already arisen.”

“And what are we to do while she tours Westeros?”

“In order to keep from Viserys becoming too suspicious of how planned this truly is, we would stay away from King’s Landing and Dragonstone. We could travel wherever we wanted, Rhaenyra is going to send a raven when she is returning to King’s Landing, and we will arrive to announce our marriage. Viserys will be distracted by the plans of her wedding to Laenor, as he has proven before that Rhaenyra’s marriage is the important one to him, and he won’t waste a war on something he knows he will not be able to change. He goes to Alicent for advice, and as much as I dislike her, she would make him see sense if he did try to do anything too drastic.”

“It seems as though you and Rhaenyra have thought of everything,” Daemon said, finally allowing himself to truly consider the idea.

“The only thing we have not been able to figure out, is how to rid you of your marriage,” Viserea admitted.

“I will handle my marriage. I have thought about it before but never had a reason to do anything. This is my responsibility and you two have done enough,” Daemon said quickly.

“Is this your way of saying you accept our offer of marriage?” Viserea asked, a small smile on her face.

“Zaldrītsos (little dragon),” Daemon started, reaching up and taking Viserea’s chin in between two fingers so she was forced to look at him, “nothing will stop me from making you my wife.”

Viserea leaned forward, kissing him as she had yearned to do for years. Any amount of resolve Daemon had left was gone the minute their lips touched. As the kiss deepened, his hand went to rest on her hips and she was pulled onto his lap. One of her own hands had gone to his hair while the other rested on his chest, the heat of him contrasting with the cool temperature of her hands.

As his hands began to explore under her shirt, Daemon broke away and his hands slid out from under her shirt,

“We can’t. Not tonight,” he said, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Viserea.

Viserea nodded, breathing heavily, knowing the risk was too much. Anybody could catch them and the last thing they needed was for her to be with child before they were even married. She leaned in and kissed him softly once more before removing herself from his lap and sitting next to him again.

Daemon laid down and pulled Viserea down with him. She easily curled up against him, laying her head against his chest as his arms wrapped around her.

[daisies-on-a-cup]

but like THE THING IS taigen is also about honor and respect. he is the idealized samurai of the 16th century. he respects traditions, he respects the honor-code, he values centuries of unchanged martial arts. but he is also one willing to learn. taigen is defeated completely by mizu, an unknown, who calls everything he has every experienced and come to know as "trash". who defeats his entire dojo and himself in the same night, but leaves him alive because mizu's mission was never to kill anyone there- despite taigen's goading. and then, when taigen finds mizu again, wounded, vulnerable, he has the opportunity to take back his honor and station- to get back everything he lost, his tradition, his marriage, his title, his honor and respect- he realizes that to defeat and kill mizu like this would be dishonorable and would not restore him in his soul even if he lied to his superiors and said it was a proper duel. so he draws up a contract, gives it to mizu to sign once she has healed, and even when it is rejected and he is captured and tortured for days on end, he does not dishonor mizu by giving her away or telling the enemy anything. seeing mizu fight, seeing her drive and sheer will-power, was a learning moment for him in who to truly give his respect and loyalty to. the fact he was willing to give his life for a samurai he hardly knew but respected speaks volumes to his character and how he adapts and grows and changes. just as well that his respect for someone he believed to be a man this entire time evolved into a lust, a possible love, is even more incredible. taigen thrills at the show of power, he's in awe at mizu's strength, and she completely changes how he sees himself and what he wants in this world. he started out as a man after station, power, what any traditional man in need of a wife wants. but mizu, and all the tragedy he encountered just being near her, changed him so completely that he was willing to give it all up just to be happy-- not satisfied, not honored, not respected. just happy.

[bonefall]

Clan Culture: Names and Titles

A guide to the meaning behind warrior names in Better Bones, including when a kit receives their first suffix, what happens in the case of a conflict, and honor and dishonor titles.

Edit 1: More added to FAQ!

Clan cats ferociously value their titles through life. It is a symbol of their honor, the proof of their rank, and a sign that they are a blessed warrior of their Clan.

Famously, a warrior name consists of a prefix, and a suffix. The prefix is given by their kin, and the suffix changes at least three times within their lives. The first, -kit, is given when a kitten sees their first full moon with opened eyes. The second, -paw, is given at their apprenticeship ceremony. The last is awarded after completing their Warrior Assessment, as written in Law 12 of the Warrior Code.

Once a Clan cat has a suffix, to leave it out of their name is ONLY done by family, else it is a sign of open disrespect for their rank. To respectfully shorten a Warrior's name, one sound from the prefix and one from the suffix are combined.

Squirrelflight = Squilf / Pishkafsheek = Pishee

Hallowflight = Hawf / Shahafniooaw = Shaw

In Clanmew, some names can get quite long! The full title only has to be used during sacred ceremonies, so that StarClan will gaze down upon the warrior using their name as a vector. Nicknames are common; a full name is a holy incantation.

(Though, this works both ways. Some enemy warriors make a point to use the full name when they cuss you out in battle, so StarClan can watch them beat you up. It's especially funny when they do this and then get their ass kicked.)

Below the cut;

Fading Kits; The Promised Name and the First Name.

Journey to the Moonplace; Conflicts and Leader Choices

Pride and Shame; Honor and Dishonor Titles

FAQ

Fading Kits; The First Name and Prefixes.

It is a part of life, for cat parents of all cultures, that they will have at least one kitten in a litter who does not live past their first month. It's so normal that it is not treated like a tragedy, it's as expected as afterbirth.

In Clan Culture, these are called "Fading Kits" or "Faders," and the same word is used for the 'twinkle' of a star. It is believed that Faders are StarClan Warriors who get "caught" during their delivery of the souls of the other kittens, and briefly fall to earth before fading away again.

They're thought to be family, in most cases! It would be very insulting to tell your grandfather that you don't recognize him, so, kittens are not "named" until it's clear they are not simply faders.

The first rank a Clan cat has is "kit." They are given this suffix, along with their official prefix, after they witness their first full moon with open eyes. It is believed that a Fader would not be able to gaze upon the moon without bursting into tears and dying on the spot, desperate to return to StarClan's hunting grounds. This title is called the "First Name."

(Jaykit was slightly delayed in receiving his First Name, as there was some debate that he could complete this ritual. The matter was settled by the Cleric, Leafpool, describing the moon to him in detailed prose to which the 3-week-old replied, "ok")

Prefixes are taken from just about anything that Clan cats are familiar with. Animals, colors, plants, so on. The reasons these names are picked can range from it being a good physical description, to having an abstract symbolic meaning, to being in honor of another cat.

While no word is "banned," there are names that carry social connotations. Thistles, wildfires, and honeysuckles have political implications. Cuckoo birds are referenced as an extreme insult. Cooked food used in a name would be considered extremely silly. Parents may be talked to if the names they pick are considered bad or 'not serious.'

If the First Name is ESPECIALLY bad, to the point of being abusive, the Clan might refuse to honor it. This is rare, and subjective based on the culture at the time.

Fading Kit: A kitten that dies without an obvious reason before its first moon. Extremely common and expected within a litter; not named.

First Name: The first prefix a Clan cat has, earned after witnessing their first full moon with opened eyes.

Journey to the Moonplace; Conflicts and Leader Choices

According to legend, the very first "True Names" were given to the five founders, after the First Battle. Upon each leader, their ancestors bestowed the fragment of a star, so that they too would be able to bless their warriors with holy titles of their own.

This is a sacred responsibility. A leader is expected to put immense thought and care into bestowing a name upon their warriors. Part of this process is checking with StarClan to ensure that there is no spirit with the exact same name. Full titles are holy, an incantation that means you. It's EXTREME disrespect, both to StarClan AND the warrior, to make them share the same title.

If a leader is about to see a conflict when they're being given their -star suffix, StarClan itself will give them a new prefix... but they will always honor a meaningful personal request.

Though they act as an extension of StarClan, every leader is unique in the sorts of names they give! For example, Mistystar likes to "theme" litters with matching or similar suffixes, Brokenstar would pick names that sounded threatening and cool, and Bluestar preferred 'straightforward' names.

To challenge the name that a warrior has been given is a challenge against the leader that named them. You're calling into question something that they have the sacred authority to do-- and possibly even saying that they don't have StarClan themselves on their side. It's a very serious thing to do in public.

According to Law 12 of the Warrior Code, all apprentices must do three things before they can be considered a warrior. The Assessment, The Pilgrimage, and The Vigil. These are called The First Tasks.

These are typically done in order. After passing the assessment, the apprentice goes on a trip with their leader to the Moonplace, which is the Moonstone in the Forest, and the Moonpool at the Lake. There, the leader communicates with StarClan to present the name they've chosen, and to make sure that no spirit shares it. When approved, they return to the Clan where the Warrior Name Ceremony is held and the vigil is sat.

A warrior's first vigil will last for 12 hours. Since Clan cats are crepuscular, the apprentice may choose if they want to sit for a Day Vigil, or a Night Vigil. They must stay quiet for this entire time, unless interrupted by an incoming threat.

(However, this is a value so strong it can permanently impact a young warrior. Stoneclaw sat vigil on the night of the WindClan Massacre, and watched ShadowClan warriors kill her sister, mother, and father. She found herself unable to speak ever again.)

True Name: The full title of an adult Clan cat.

The First Tasks: Three actions that an apprentice must complete before becoming a full warrior, as outlined in Law 12.

Pride and Shame; Honor and Dishonor Titles

A full name is a holy incantation, calling upon StarClan itself to turn its gaze upon the warrior it describes. When that name no longer properly encompasses who that warrior is, the leader might choose to change it.

For outstanding achievements, a cat can earn an Honor Title.

There's many ways to earn an Honor Title. An act of inspirational heroism (Hallowflight), a huge discovery or contribution to Clan life (Leafpool), or even surviving an extreme injury that should have been deadly (Honeysnake). It's also common for them to be given for distinctive scars and injuries (Shredtail, Crookedstar), which are a point of pride for Clan cats and their battle-oriented culture.

Because it's totally up to the discretion of the leader, there are certain times in history where they become common, and others where they're rare. Some leaders believe that the first warrior name should be simple to encourage the quest for an Honor Title, while others believe that they should be spontaneous and sacred rewards.

For a crime or a terrible sin, a cat can be branded with a Dishonor Title.

Like their counterpart, Dishonor Titles can be acquired in all sorts of ways. Usually, they're given for codebreaking behavior, so that the whole Clan will address them by their mistakes for a certain amount of time and see them as an example. Some cats will even specifically request that their leader gives them a Dishonor Title after a serious failure-- it is thought that while they live under the shameful title to repent, their true, "holy name" can hide away until their pride recovers enough to wear it again.

Dishonor Titles are not supposed to be permanent unless the crime was severe, such as Darkstripe's poisoning of Sorrelkit. Before being cast out of ThunderClan, Firestar renamed him Belladonnaheart for what he'd done-- it would have served the double purpose of calling StarClan to witness the exile, AND of warning other cats of WHY he'd been cast out.

(though, it was undercut immediately by Tigerstar, who renamed him as soon as he had the chance. Debate rages on if Tigerstar had the holy authority to do such a thing, and what the 'true name' of the spirit now is.)

But, Dishonor Titles can also be used in cruel ways. When Swiftpaw was killed by the dogs and it seemed like his cousin Brightpaw wouldn't survive, Bluestar furiously challenged StarClan by giving her the warrior name "Swifthound." They would take TWO swifts to the stars, or leave her alone to recover. This was a terrible thing to do, to turn her into a pawn in Bluestar's war with StarClan and force her to wear the guilt of the gruesome death of her cousin as a holy title.

TigerClan also used Dishonor Titles in a shocking and sickening way-- by changing Stormpaw and Featherpaw into Graypaw and Silverpaw, to remind them that their birth killed their codebreaking mother, and that their traitor of a father was not here to pay for his crimes, so they would instead. Mistyfoot and Stonefur were also forced to take the names Festerberry and Heartworm.

Honor Title: A reward given for outstanding achievements.

Dishonor Title: A punishment given for breaking the Warrior Code or committing a sin.

FAQ

Q: "On conflicts; if a cat earns an honor title or becomes leader, does their old name get 'freed up' for a new warrior?"

Yes! Conflicts only apply to the final name; though the names of famous cats will be avoided generally (Tigerstar, for example.)

Q: "When a spirit fades away, is their name freed up?"

Yep. StarClan won't protest if a spirit is fully faded or forgotten; but they still won't allow cats to share names with famous individuals. For example, Tigerstar had been double-killed by Firestar, but StarClan still renamed Tigerheart to Heartstar.

Q: "Are there any outright banned prefixes or suffixes?"

Nope. Just use in-universe judgement as mentioned above. Every leader is different, and cultural views of certain prefixes shifts over time.

Q: "If conflict names are so discouraged, how do they deal with conflicting kits and apprentices in StarClan?"

Young cats that reach StarClan are called "cherubs." They unlock a full title based on the cat they "should have become" in life, and choose the age they wish to appear as. Cherubs are very special spirits that I'll get into with more depth another time!

Q: "Do Fading Kits exist in StarClan? Do they take up a name slot?"

No. If they weren't just a "visiting" spirit, the soul is young and clean enough to get immediately re-used for another Clan cat. They're not named.

Q: "I have a question about Tigerstar's authority to change names!"

These are ambiguous cases even in-canon, and actively debated within Clans and between individuals. Tigerstar had a lot of lives from the Dark Forest after being outright rejected by StarClan, and many cats wanted to discredit his rule on top of that, leading to some fractures in how Tiger-Titles work supernaturally.

Stormfur's strongly-held personal beliefs lead to him still referring to Stonefur by his Dishonor Title. Most Clan cats believe that Darkstripe's true name is still Belladonnaheart, so using his old name doesn't properly summon him. The most important factor is if the cat in question believes they're correct.

Q: "Can Honor Titles and Dishonor Titles be revoked posthumously? Can true names change after death?"

Yes, but it's difficult and rare. Either the leader who set the name can do it, or there would need to be lakewide acceptance of such a thing through a ritual or the slow turn of memory through generations. This is more controlled by mortal cat perception than StarClan's will.

[faememes]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

This a rp meme of random sentences from film, TV, books, and music, change names/titles/pronouns as needed.

"I don't need a sword."

"The password is 'eagle', you apes."

"I have to tell you a secret that will see you through all the trials that life can offer. Have courage and be kind."

"When life gives you lemons, just say ‘fuck the lemons’, and bail."

"Tell me that isn't what I think it is."

"I know I’m safe as long as I’m here."

"Higher. Further. Faster, Baby."

"That's it, dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!"

"You are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires."

"You still alive, Baby?"

"______, _______ forgot the password again."

"That is mahogany!"

"Oh, it’s a beautiful dress! Did you ever see such a beautiful dress?"

"Why think separately of this life than the next, when one is born from the last?"

"I will always find you."

" I know my value. Anyone else's opinion doesn't really matter."

"I see a strong, confident, beautiful young lady … Oh look, you’re here too!"

"Look, who finally decided to grow claws after all."

"Name one hero who was happy."

"We can go home... imagine it."

"Wherever you are is home."

"I always knew I would have to stay."

"I miss you when I least expect it."

"May our next meeting be joyful."

"Oh, great, now I’m the bad guy."

"And I don't know when I'll see you again."

"I cannot stop thinking of you. From the mornings you ease, to the evenings you quiet, to the dreams you inhabit, my thoughts of you never end. I am yours, ______________. I have always been yours."

"You can stand tall without standing alone."

"She is life itself."

"What is it, truly, to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty, so much so that all your senses crumble that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To honor her being with your deeds and words. That is what the true poet describes."

"I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THIS!"

"To meet a beautiful woman is one thing, but to meet your best friend in the most beautiful of women is something entirely apart."

"To the stars who listen––and the dreams that are answered."

"That still only counts as one!"

"When I was born, the word for what I was did not exist."

"Are you aware the shape I'm in?"

"Bye, my darling."

"You posses a rare beauty, my love, in here. Never lose it. It will serve you well when you are queen."

"Most people around here have too many words and nothing to say."

"Do as ________ says."

"He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none."

"Mistress mine. My will is thine. Tell me your wishes three."

"If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

[sifu-kisu]

DISCIPLESHIP

Yup Sut Dai Gee which means (In the back door Skill son) is the Chinese name for Discipleship.

Traditionally the Yup Sut Dai Gee or disciple would represent the school & Sifu in the public eye. If a Disciple behaves badly or sets a bad example it is a poor reflection on the school and the Sifu of that school. Dishonor is then placed on that school through the disciple’s actions. The Yup Sut Dai Gees looks after the school and makes sure that Mo Duk (Martial Virtue) is upheld at all times in the Sifu’s absence. A Disciple is committed to carrying on his or her Sifu’s teachings. Before a student becomes a Yup Sut Dai Gee he must first earn the respect & confidence of the school’s Sifu. It must be proven that the student that may become a disciple is honorable, loyal, reliable and has total faith is the School & his or her Sifu, without question!

If a Yup Moon Dai Gee (student) decides to accept the honor of becoming a Yup Sut Dai Gee or Discipleship he or she then takes on the responsibilities that come with that title.

Many westerners seek discipleship for all the wrong reasons. If you want to become your Sifu’s Disciple, consider your own motivations first. It is not what your Art can do for you, but what you can do for your Art. You do not become a disciple to promote yourself. Quite the opposite, to become a disciple is to abandon your own selfish thoughts and dedicate your practice to others.

You must always put your Art, your Ancestors and your Sifu first.

It becomes your sworn duty to honor your teachers by maintaining your lineage. To become a disciple is like adopting a parent it is not something to be taken lightly. You will swear on oath to be bound to your school & Sifu until death. A warrior’s word is like an arrow, once released; it can never stray until it strikes its target. A Yup Sut Dai Gee also takes on the responsibilities of the school’s growth. If a school does not grow it dies. So the disciple shares this burden with the Sifu. It is said if a Sifu has many Yup Sut Dai Gees, his school will prosper. Because there are many looking out for the well being of the Sifu & school.

[ashleyfanfic]

Thank you for the NSFW recs! When you have the time, I would love to hear your favourite Jonerys slowburn fics 🔥

Oh slow burn. Alright, so full confession, I usually don't have the time for slow burn. It's infuriating sometimes because I'm like FUCKING KISS EACH OTHER and then they don't and it makes my anxiety fucking sky rocket!

BUUUUUT that isn't to say that there aren't fics out there that nail it to me. This is a small list of fics off the top of my head. Granted, most of these are modern AU because I guess, as a whole, this fandom just decided we're just gonna make them fuck right off the bat cause they both deserve it. I mean, there are a few that canon divergent - but show/book Jon/Dany deserved to fuck each other until they collapse. So, with that in mind, here they are in no particular order: (M for modern AU - C for canon divergent) Westeros' Most Eligible Bachelor by @muttpeeta - M After one too many public scandals, Prince Jon Targaryen agrees to be the new star of "Westeros' Most Eligible Bachelor." He just wants to clean up his act and change the public's perception of him as the black sheep of the family, but he might just get more than he bargained for. Enter contestant: Daenerys Targaryen. His aunt.

You Can Never Be Mine by @muttpeeta - C Jon Snow knows it's wrong to covet what his brother has. He's never begrudged Robb Stark his title or his claim as the heir to Winterfell. But when Daenerys is taken in as Lord Stark's ward and betrothed to Robb, Jon's honor is tested in a way he never expected.

Desirable Business by @dracoignisworld and @dragonanddirewolf - M - In 1960's New York, creative director Jon Snow is faced with a challenge. His new secretary Daenerys is everything he is not; kind, friendly and innocent. With her around the office, he finds it hard to distinguish between reality and his fantasies. There can be consequences to desiring someone you should not have.

Written in the Scars on This Heart by @jalenmara and @notpmahlem - M - Daenerys Targaryen, supermodel and face of House Targaryen, a rising star in the world of Fashion, is commonly known as the most beautiful woman in the world. And someone wants her dead. Jon Snow, running from the ghosts of his own past, lands the job any man would kill for— protecting her. But can he protect his own heart from her?

Where the Wild Things Are by @stilesssolo - M - Daenerys Targaryen has fought tooth and nail to get to the high-ranking position she has at Tyrell Outdoor Recreational Equipment, Inc, doing everything within her power to help the planet along the way. Jon Snow has a dog with over two million instagram followers, despite the fact that he can't figure out how to work the app to save his life. When sales drop enough to threaten Tyrell's environment-saving programs, Daenerys is determined to find influencers that can turn the tides for her company. And she has her eye on Jon. Or, well— technically, Ghost.

Her Life, Her Death by magicmoon11 - C - Swayed by the powerful words of a dying queen, Stannis Baratheon takes in baby Daenerys Targaryen as his ward. In the North, Eddard Stark is ordered to raise Jon Snow to wed and dishonor the Targaryen princess, by bringing bastard blood into her line, and ending the Dragons forever. Across the continent, and across the Narrow Sea, the wheel continues to turn, and the Great Game commences. Thus begins a series of events that would change the fate of Westeros forever. Familial relationship between gruff Stannis and his ward. Eventual Jon x Dany.

The Oasis - @fierypen37 - M - With uptight and stressed CEO Daenerys Targaryen's regular masseur on leave, she has to make do with the replacement Jon Snow. Relaxation is not something she can find with his hands on her. Too bad he doesn't feel the same. Except unbeknownst to her, he definitely does. When a threat on her life pushes them together, they must both learn to deal with their growing feelings.

[deadmenandthedivine]

DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

prologue: rumors from runestone

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to become many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 1964

She would never remember her days at Runestone. That was the unforgiving truth. Born of tumultuous means, the Princess was raised by her Lady Mother in her earliest year. After all, her mother and father were not on speaking terms. In fact, their relationship was even less than that. Most would proclaim without the slightest hesitation that the two hated each other. The princess had been the only evidence that their marriage was even consummated; albeit, she was conceived some years after the wedding night. No one ever knew what brought the two together that night, and they would never divulge. The cruder lords of Westeros would often drunkenly theorize that it was after a heated argument where the two lost themselves. Perhaps one said something a little too personal before feverishly ravishing each other. There had been a war in the Step Stones around the same time in which Daemon displayed his strategic and masterful leadership in war, undeniable physical prowess in battle, and a sadistic impulsive side throughout. Some maids wondered if the Lady of the Keep did not fancy a taste of it. Especially after some of the stories of him. Whatever the case, the relationship between the new parents was complicated. Seeing as the Rogue Prince referred to the mother of his child solely as his "bronze bitch," this sentiment was founded in unforgiving truth.

Fortified by the Mountains of the Moon, the people of the Vale tended to be steeped in honor and morals and had the same rough exterior as the expanse of their land. In times of turmoil and war, such terrain served as natural defense. In times of peace, it blocked harsh winds and the worst of storms. Carrying blood of both the Andals and the First Men, the people who lived there were natural hunters and warriors. Common folk and nobility alike. The deeper amongst the mountains, the people found were tougher and nastier. Wielding vast weapons and beholding to far less morals. It was known all throughout the Realm. Mountain clans were feared. Runestone was nestled on the northern shore of its peninsula. The shores were cliffs. The terrain anything but flat. This meant the people were bulky and solid. Tough and mean to boot, but incredibly pompous and noble about it. Like a mission sent down from the Gods, Lady Rhea Royce and her people were determined to instill the princess with as much of the Vale as they could. In her girlhood, she would learn to hunt with bow and arrow, perhaps even wield a knife. She would ride a horse as soon as she started walking, sitting in the styles of both a lady and a hunter. She would be as tough as stone and as smooth as marble. A princess like the realm had never witnessed before, raised away from the treachery and gossip of King’s Landing. One who was raised not as a Targaryen, but as one of Andal and First Men blood. A member of the royal family that would actually reflect those who belonged to the Seven Kingdoms rather than the lost ghosts of Valyria’s wasteland. Even if the princess’ title was only granted as a way to assure the girl’s status in the loud absence of her father. A gift that was given by the King after Lady Rhea wrote to him about his brother’s exhaustive and dishonorable wonderings, declaring she would never bare the Prince another child unless something was done. The girl was a princess and that was what mattered. Those at Runestone would openly fantasize about the day that she would make her mark as a fierce representation of the Vale’s strength, diligence, and morality. Unfortunately, that future was ripped away from her before it could even fully start.

Lady Rhea squatted near the ground in front of the fireplace in her chambers. Both the fire and scattered wall torches illuminated the room as the moonlight barely casted through the tall windows. It gave the room a warm atmosphere that perfectly cradled the moment unfolding before the lady’s eyes. A small distance away, her daughter's milkmaid stabilized the small princess on her two pudgy feet before encouraging the girl to move forward. With a grin on her face, the Lady of Runestone did her very best to look both exciting and welcoming as her daughter slowly focused on her. The two women worked together wordlessly to keep the little girl from hurting herself without overcrowding her as she took one unassisted step forward.

"Well done! Come to your mama, stinky girl! You are doing so well!" The little girl squealed at the sound of her mother's voice.

"Left foot, right foot. You got it, princess!" the milkmaid cooed.

The baby princess giggled at the sweetness tickling her ears. Her eyes were dead set on her mother, her favorite person in the world. If only she could just get closer. Using all the strength she could muster in her little ankles, she balanced upright and took another step. The women around her cheered at the accomplishment. With a giggle, the princess looked up at them with utter adoration. Wanting nothing more than to hear the women’s praise again. To her delight, the same response came as she took an uneasy step with her other foot. The princess giggled harder before taking her fourth step. The praise only grew with excitement. Before she knew it, she was in her mother's arms and the room was completely filled with squeals of joy and awe. The heir of Runestone had taken her first steps. It was an evening worth celebrating on the morrow. The princess was to have her first nameday in less than a fortnight and the Lady of Runestone was in a celebratory mood. Nothing could bring her down. She could see her future with her daughter laying just ahead of her. She saw a spunky girl with violet-blue eyes and a Vale accent who gave all the men around her hell. She saw a princess who was not afraid to roll up her sleeves and do a man’s job for herself. She saw a strong and capable lady with power and inheritance in her own right. A woman who garnered respect from even the nastiest of lords, just by the square of her shoulders. What the lady of the keep did not know was that sweet evening was going to be the last one she spent with her precious girl.

As the history books told it, Lady Rhea Royce met her end in a hawking accident. Though she had been riding horse and hunting various game for as far back as she could remember, the sole heir of Runestone fell from her horse and suffered an injury to the head. She had gone out alone that next day, leaving her sworn knight Ser Eddrin Tollett to guard her daughter’s nursery instead. Her wetnurses knew something was wrong the moment Lady Rhea did not come home in time to put her daughter down for her afternoon nap. Especially after the milestone of the evening prior. It was utterly unlike her — she was always there to put the princess down. The castle's worst suspicions were confirmed when the lady's body was found, miraculously still breathing. Maester Garrel and all the servants went into overdrive. Busy hands went to work patching the wound and mixing salves, ointments, and pain management potions. Not to mention, keeping the castle in order and seeing to the Princess. It was tiresome work that required care and diligence. Both of which Maester Garrel exuded. For seven days, the Lady of Runestone laid in her bed drifting in and out of feverish sleep. Occasionally, she would utter her daughter's name, squirming in her bed in the girl’s absence. The maester would tend to her wounds every three hours. At least two bodies were constantly standing watch inside and outside her room. On the seventh day, Lady Rhea rose out of bed in suspiciously high spirits. As if nothing had happened. She tended to all of her normal duties with a sweet smile on her face. Caring for her precious daughter in place of the wet nurses like she normally would. However, she did not seem shocked when the maester had notified her of their keep’s new guest. She grumbled and cursed as she usually would when the subject of her husband and father of her child was brought up. But it was as she quickly strode to the solar in which the man had been waiting for her, that Lady Rhea Royce dropped dead. Mid-stride.

It was perhaps a coincidence that Prince Daemon Targaryen himself arrived at Runestone merely a day after the accident. Expecting to arrive, participate in the nameday festivities, and leave, the Rogue Prince was not at all expecting to take on the responsibility of his firstborn and her new inheritance. These were the remarks that he repeatedly stressed to the maester at any opportunity he could. He swore up and down to anyone that would listen. He was deeply distraught over the passing of his wife. But alas, without Lady Rhea present, Prince Daemon would be in charge of both Runestone and the Royce estate until Princess Maetilda took a man to husband. A husband that the Prince would get to choose now that he had sole oversight of his daughter. The perfect scenario for the Rogue Prince. It was the most suspicious of coincidences.

The Princess’ nameday festivities were canceled upon the death of her mother. Her father saw no need to hold such frivalant festivities in the wake of his Lady wife’s death. Especially ones the Princess would not remember. Who was to argue with the blade of Dark Sister and the flame of Caraxes as the Rogue Prince strapped the baby girl to the dragon's saddle? The wielder of the infamous Valyrian steel sword had even paused to see if someone would. To see just how brave and honorable those at Runestone were willing to be. Unfortunately, anyone to argue with never came; the Prince never returned, never allowing the Princess to return either. Both letters attached to the feet of ravens and petitioning in front of the King himself proved futile as no official argument was ever entertained. The poor halls of Runestone were left to grieve the loss of both of their ladies. The Princess would never have the future her Lady Mother had dreamed for her. There would be no people’s princess.

The echoes from the mother and daughter's last giggles could still be heard ringing off the walls when lords and ladies across Westeros dropped all of their former grievances to attend the royal wedding of the Realm's Delight. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's wedding to Lord Laenor Velaryon was memorable for a variety of reasons. Aside from the average rumors of who wore what and who did what and who did who, there were three whispers that traveled louder than the rest. First, Ser Joffrey Lonmouth lost his life to his mouth the night of the opening feast. Rumor had it that the knight uttered a sentiment so blasphemous and treasonous that the Kingsguard executed him there on the spot. Second, Princess Maetilda proved to be a delight to all who interacted with her at the ripe age of one. She had a charm that her father certainly did not, winning a smile from even her father's biggest conspirators. Third, King Viserys was more ill than he was letting on. With time, the whispers only grew until they became a constant mind-numbing hum. The mind-numbing hums grew into spoken words, and those spoken words grew into full-volume threats. Threats to all who stood in between the Hightowers and the Big Iron Chair.

A/N: this is my very first time posting my writing to tumblr. i don’t know how to do master lists and stuff like that yet, but this entire blog will be dedicated to just this fic. this also means i’m a beginner with the different formatting and everything, so please bear with me!

chapter one (much longer) will be coming shortly 👀

xoxo messy