#and empire bolder

[nocturnalpicnic]

Bolder Beach with Joe and Ursula. I found a pair of sneakers on the bottom of the river. Not seen across the river to the right is an abandoned house, looks like the foundation gave way, my dentist lived there. In the eighth grade his oldest son sucker punched me in the gut in the lunch line. water color 2023 michael pontieri

[simpingforheros]

Safe

Pairing: Gotham Knights! Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Being a mercenary isn’t easy. Being a lab experiment turned mercenary isn’t easy either. Being a Bio-engineered mercenary in Gotham city with a reformed Red Hood isn’t easy at all.

Warnings: Hurt Comfort, Angst with bittersweet ending, Enemies to Friends??, Female Pronouns, Mild Violence, Horrible Fight Scenes (I’m sorry), Reader is basically Black Cat but little different, implied OOC! Amanda Waller, Mentions of Death, Torture, PTSD, and Panic Attacks.

Author’s Note: I guess I’ll give y’all a break from my Toxic! Jason agenda. But I’m not giving y’all a break from calling y’all out on being slanderous to my underrated, unproblematic princess that is GK! Jason. He may not be as pretty as the other ones, but he got a better relationship with his family than y’all have with y’all’s daddies (jk I’m sorry). Also yes, the reader is Black Cat coded because I love her and I want to see Jason with a cool feline counterpart of his own.

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.

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Fuck. FUCK!

Chanted through her mind as she realizes what the hell she has just done. This whole assignment was a set up from the moment that job listing hit her burner phone. Her clawed gloves raked through her hair as she desperately took in her situation.

Months after the death of Batman, criminals became bolder with their crimes despite the lurking remains of Batman’s legacy. New villains and mercenaries came in to either assist Gotham’s veteran rogues or building their own empires among the shadows of the bigger evil’s crimes. However, Y/N didn’t fall into either category.

Originally a lab rat for Amanda Waller to find a cure for her terminal cancer, the cat like mercenary became a quick popular option among gang leaders and the low life to hire to do quick jobs without minimum risk. Of course the cat like persona wasn’t due to her stealth…

A blast rings out of the previously locked door as the girl’s head snaps back. Her body collapses as the roar of victorious laughter fills the air.

“You see how that bitch’s head just snapped back like a twig?!” Victor Sionas laughed through his leather mask as his golden firearm flashed in the fluorescent light of the value.

It was supposed to be a quick heist, minimum risk on her end. Just grab a hard drive with 6.8 Billion dollars worth of stolen and encrypted medical documents and financial records and leave before Black Mask realized she was there. An easy heist for a fair reward.

Victor’s ranting and raving filled the safe in loud echos as his assistant tries to listen to her pager for their normal disposal team. As the crimson slowly sets into the concrete, a faint green glow began to form around her body. The harsh grit releases her life force as it recedes back into her skull.

Amanda Waller wasn’t normally a desperate woman, but when it came to her life, she didn��t care what criminal she had to deal with to get her life back. Even the League of Assassins…

As the pair was about to leave to attend a meeting of some kind, Y/N didn’t know or care to know as her ears ring back into tune. Her body jolts up as she springs back to life in an instant.

As her eyes meet Sionas’ shocked stare, her lips curled into a wicked smirk. Her E/C eyes shined with a new madness as she flexes her adamantium tipped claws, ready to rip out his throat.

Victor quickly raises his gun ready to shoot again as she swipes at his wrist. The appendage falling to the floor as his screams drowned out the echos of his false victories.

“I guess it was an easy job.” She comments before her claws strike again.

Maybe she should ask for a raise to make up for her dry cleaning?

+++++++++++++++

The crime scene was a bloodbath.

Police scrambled and crawled the building as lights and tape marked the massacre. Every surface, furniture, rug, and plant were all tagged, sprayed, and searched for any bodily matter that could lead you to the person behind this horrific crime.

Black Mask’s gang. A once prominent gang in Gotham city who survived fights between Batman and The Red Hood were all dead. Eviscerated. Slaughtered.

All of the dead were clinging onto weapons as either distinct claw marks either craved them to ribbons or they were killed by their own weapons. Whoever did it clearly attacked the ones who attacked first.

The only survivors were the ones who didn’t attempt to fight the assailant. Victor’s assistant was the only one that was harmed among them with a deep set of scratches on her face with a look of horror in her eyes.

A look Nightwing and Red Hood didn’t like to see even from a criminal.

“And you said you didn’t know why this happened?” Nightwing asks skeptical of the woman’s reliability.

The woman eagerly nods as she sputters out, “We caught her in the safe and Sionas wanted to teach her a lesson…we heard her reputation was only with stealing…not this…”

Jason growls as he grew inpatient with her stuttering, but he takes a deep breath. ‘Be Patient…’ He reminds himself before something made his ears perk up.

“It was like magic or something! Sionas shot her point blank in the head and she just came back to life in an instant!! That’s when she went crazy! We just wanted to get her back for stealing from our off shore accounts. We didn’t know that she was a…monster.”

Fuck.

+++++++++++++++++++

Fire. Fire is what it felt like. It crawls from the deepest part of her mind and spreads through her veins like a fever. Her vision tunneled in as memories of all her previous deaths haunting her brain surged forward as her body acted on instinct. Out of fear…

It took three days before the madness faded this time. That was probably the longest time she was trapped in that state since she escaped Waller. Those three days were a fog as she only remembered the splitting head ache from the gun shot and her costume covered in blood.

Once the new broke on a ‘maniac’ who killed the Black Mask’s gang, Y/N knew she couldn’t leave Gotham yet until the buzz died down. She already knew the Bat’s sidekicks were looking for her, so she used whatever cash she had left to hide out in a cheap motel room.

“Fuck….” She groans as her trembling hands dropped her cell phone. Her eyes tried to dart around the aisles of the gas station she was currently hunting for food in. The remaining madness caused her senses to be on high alert and her anxiety to be high.

If she was back home, she could hideout in her apartment with her cat for a month before finding another job listing, but she was trapped in Gotham in a ratty motel.

So venturing to the crummy gas station for some junk food and beer is the next best thing. At least the disinterested cashier doesn’t pay her any mind. 4am on a weekday with a case of beer probably made her just appear to be a normal tweaker.

(Y/N) adjusts her sunglasses and makes sure her silver hair was well hidden under her zip-up’s hood before she brings her items to the counter. The zit faced teen gives her a look over, not hiding the attention he gave to her exposed cleave from the tank top she had showing.

“Ma’am, we don’t allow sunglasses inside the store.” He creaks out. Her (E/C) roll as she takes her sun glasses off. The door chimes as someone enters the store, but her attention was focused on the cashier. When he finally scanned her beer, his cracking voice asks,

“Do you have ID, Ma’am?”

Her hands go to her sweatpants pocket and only feels the cash she brought. Her mental anguish grows as she sighs in annoyance. Her fake id was in motel, and she technically doesn’t exist so she never had a real id.

Deciding to turn up the charm, she smiles sweetly at the teenager as she says, “I’m sorry, but I left my id back at my place. I’m sure you can tell I’m old enough, right?”

Her cleavage seemed to not work its charm as the teen rudely says,

“I can tell you’re old by your hair lady. But I need ID.”

Her eyes widen as a faint glow of green shows as she snaps at him. “I’m not old! I’m 24, you little p-!”

She stops herself as she takes a deep breath as she feels the madness subsided. She really didn’t wanna kill a kid over some cheap beer.

“Fine…I had a bad day so just get me the snacks.” She admits in defeat as she pulls out a hundred bucks. Just as she was going to pay, a hand drops some beef jerky and a case of beer on the counter beside her items. A deep voice cuts the air and causes a shiver to crawl up her spine.

“Add her stuff and beer to my order.” A thick, veiny hand presents the cashier with his ID and a credit card as she turns her head to see who it was that saved her evening.

Before her was a man who stood well over 6 feet tall. His shoulders were as broad as an old oak tree with muscles strong enough to take one down. His face wasn’t particularly the normal standard for attractiveness, but the strong jaw and scar gave him a handsome roughness that made her stomach tighten. It didn’t help that his nearly buzzed hair gave him a military sense, but his eyes were what made her heart stop in her chest. The beautiful green eyes that glowed an unearthly hue that she was familiar with.

She sees it in her eyes everyday. The scar of the Lazarus pit.

(Y/N) almost forgot where she was before the cashier cleared his throat. Her focus returned back to the counter as she grabs her stuff. Before she could run off, something made her stop to wait for the man. Whether it was curiosity or stupidity, she didn’t know.

Maybe she wanted to see what his deal was? Was he with Waller? The League of Assassins? Can he tell she was from the pit too? How different were they? How many times did he die and come back?

The opportunity to speak with someone who may can relate to her outweighed her wariness from her situation. But it was curiosity that killed the cat, right?

As the man starts heading for the door, she follows as she says,

“Excuse me?”

His eyes meet hers as a small smile as he says,

“Hey, I’m sorry for stepping in over there. I understand when stuff isn’t going your way.”

A warmth takes over her face as she says shyly, “No, it’s fine I just wanted to thank you. That was really sweet of you…”

As the two walk out, the stranger's friendly demeanor drops a little as he mumbles into the empty night air.

"So, you're the one who killed Victor Sionas..."

Her breath releases as she hears the pin drop. Her eyes dart around the parking lot as she sees the only vehicle is a old school motorcycle. She doesn't have any weapons and she wasn't sure if how skilled he was or if he had gained powers just like her from the pit.

With a frown, (Y/N) gruffs out, "Yeah...what are you gonna let me enjoy my last beer before you turn me in?"

She looks up to the man as their eyes meet. His eyes studying her as she keeps a tight grip on her bag. Maybe if he charges at her, she can swing the bag to his head and throw him off...

"No." He answers simply as he heads towards his bike. Her eyes widen in disbelief as she sputters out.

"No? I just admitted to murder and you're letting me go??"

"Yep." He answers over his shoulder as he loads his things into the compartment under his seat. Irritation fills her being instead of the relief she should have felt. She stomps towards him as she fusses,

"What's your deal? You buy me a beer and casually ask me if I commit murder? And you're gonna just leave? Did the pit mess you up that bad??" She snaps at him as she stands face to face, face to chest with him. Her eyes glowed eerily as he was filled, and a familiar shiver went down his spine.

His hands clap onto her shoulders as he pulls her close to him. A wave of coldness filled her body as the eerie glow covered his hands. The familiar feeling of the Lazarus pit filled her as he leaned into a whisper.

"The only reason I'm not hauling your pretty ass to Arkham right now is because I understand that it wasn't you when you killed them, Kitty..." His eyes glowed momentarily as a sad look briefly flashed into those green pools. "A petty mercenary who had no history of mass murder on file doesn't just jump to it without warning. The Lazarus Pit fucks up people to their core, so trust me when I say that I understand better than anyone how you feel..."

'Understand? How can he understand?' Her mind unravels as she looks up at him in disbelief. Has he ever woke up afraid of what he might have done the night before? Worry about when someone would come and shoot him in the head or stab him just to see if he could come back without being submerged anymore? Did Waller use him to heal her at the expense of his own pain just to throw him away to fend for himself???

Rage flashes through her as she roughly pulls away from him. Her bag falls to the asphalt as glass shatters. Her eyes are wild as old memories filled her. "Don't you dare say you understand me? You don't know shit about what I had to go through?"

His eyebrows frown together as he grimaces. A look of recognition and guilt flashes before he says to her. "You're right. I don't know what you went through before you died, but I do understand how you're feeling. The anxiety, the rage, the blood lust...I wanna help you."

She laughs bitterly as she figures out something about him. He only died once and was brought back. The skunk stripe in his hair should have given it away when she realized he was similar to her.

"Which time?" (Y/N) asked as she turned around and walked away. "I've died plenty of times to know that you will never understand..."

And she leaves the man alone in the parking lot as she storms off to her motel, not caring if he sees where she went or not. Her heart was beating out of control as she felt the wavering thoughts of going back to him and either hitting him or hugging him.

‘Maybe I need to rest some more….’

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Silence filled the museum as the dust bunnies and art laid undisturbed during their rest from the public eye. Her footsteps were a minimum as she walked through the shadowy parts of the building, trying to find what she was sent to retrieve.

After another week of hiding out, a job was directly pinged for her on the job board. Her eyes squinted at it at first because the offer was a little bogus to her.

‘Steal a painting, retrieve the hard drive inside, and bring it to the disclosed location in exchange for 2 Million dollars in unmarked bills.’

2 Million for a petty thief job that would have more suited Catwoman instead her seemed pretty unusual. But, at this point, her phyiscal cash funds were running low and she still was afraid of using her offshore accounts now that she knows that some zombie like her knew who she was.

Her masked eyes scanned the building’s plaza until she found what she was looking for. A large flowery portrait hanging just beyond the fountain. Her head tilts as she looks at it from afar.

‘Pretty… I wonder if I can find a print of it to buy to hang in my living room…’ Her steps remaining slow and cautious until she reaches the fountain. She looks under where the painting hung, trying not to get too close to it. There was no tag or podium that held the artist’s name or any indication that it was an actual art piece. It was most likely some print from a furniture store catalog or Etsy.

Her eyes rolled as she realizes that the listing was another trap. Obviously from someone who didn’t know shit about art or how to buy mercenaries on the black market.

As if on que, her ears buzzed as she heard the pure instinct take over as she whips around. Her hand immediately stops the staff about to hit her in the face as she elbows the smaller opponent in the stomach before slamming her fist in his cheek to knock him back. The guy gets thrown back a couple of feet as he gasped for the air she punches outta him.

She looks to the guy as she twirls his staff absent mindedly in her hand. His costume and smaller physique gave it away as to who he was. She remembers seeing a tv show story about him the previous night on the news. The boy wonder, Robin. At least the third version of him.

“Hey, tweety bird. You good?” She asked in a nonchalant tone. Her eyes unamused as she watches the kid cough up a lung as he looked up at her in shock that she wasn’t attacking him like he expected her to.

“You know, it’s dangerous to be on job listing boards like that.” She scolds him lightly as she walks around him and grabs his arm, gently helping him up and sitting him by the fountain. “There’s actual killers on that board who would have happily tried cutting you up for pulling a shitty fake job like this.”

The sidekick glares at her as he was already confused as he just witness the girl he was sure killed an entire gang just casually scold him. “Like how you did with Black Mask?”

Her eyes flashed with guilt before the nonchalant personality appeared again as she focused on throwing the staff up to make it spin. “It was self defense. He and his gang had it coming for all the child drug peddling and the lives he ruined.”

A heavier drop down of three other figures caught her attention as she looks around. Nightwing, Batgirl, and Red Hood were surrounding the fountain, blocking her in. Her anxiety rising as she hides it with a now playful smile.

“Damn, didn’t realize little old me warranted for the whole family to come get me.” She says playfully. “Don’t worry I promise to be out of y’all’s city soon.”

“You still have to pay for your crimes.” Batgirl says as she steps forwards slightly. The feline mercenary tilts her head as she looks at them with now false concern.

“Me? A defenseless street cat?” She asked before laughing. “You can certainly try.”

Nightwing steps closer as her shoulders square up. Her defensive stance rising as she observes him. Way too lean to be the guy she met, and she can tell his face was more pretty boy looking.

“We wanna help you… but you still have to pay for what you’ve done even if you didn’t mean to.” He says softly.

‘So they know…that just means they are gonna be more defensive instead of offensive. They can’t risk killing me when they know I could rampage again.’ Her eyes shine as she laughs coldly at him.

“Oh, you wanna help me rot in prison?” She says as she finally looks at the Red Hood.

Right build, right height, and she’s sure if she can knock that helmet off, right face. That’s the man she met a week ago that affected her so badly. She knew she couldn’t let him get a good grab on her or she maybe toast.

She turns her now glowing eyes back to Nightwing as she smirks. “I think you would be better off letting me leave or else you can see what I actually do when I mean it.” She bluffs.

Movement nearly catches her off guard as Robin tries to rush her again. The staff in her hand flies into his face as she tries to move as Batgirl flies kicks her in the face. Her ears ring as the warm feeling of blood starts to run out of her nose. The cat catches the bat’s fist before she whips her in the face with another punch. She used the disorienting blow to slide under her legs and give a good kick to her knee. The distinctive pop and her cry lets her know she did dislocate the bone.

She remains in her crouched up position, ready to pounce. She can feel their eyes observing as her broken nose begins to heal as it disgustingly pops back into place as the blood retreats back to its original place like it was on rewind. Her wild eyes looks to them and makes notes of their stances.

Nightwing was ready to pounce on her. He stared at her like she was the wild animal that he knew she was. It was a look she was used to.

The Red Hood wasn’t even in an offensive or defensive position. He stood with his back straight as he watches her. Damn his stupid helmet from seeing his eyes, she wanted to know what he was thinking about. Was he bluffing too or was he trying to get a good feel on how to catch her.

Before Nightwing can start advancing on her, Red stops him with a step forward and raises hand. Nightwing looks confused as he asked him.

“What are you doing?” He seethes to him. “We gotta take her down, she already hurt Robin and Batgirl.”

“Out of self defense.” The Red Hood clarifies before chuckling. His modulated voice making the feline theft frown. “If she was dangerous like you think, she could have sliced Robin’s throat with those claws of hers when he first attacked. You guys were attacking first and she responded with non lethal force.”

Her eyes glared at the man as she stands up, slightly agitated. “So? Maybe I just don’t wanna kill a kid?”

Red tilts his head as he turns his attention to her. “Calm down, Kitty….if you surrender, I promise I won’t let them send you off to the pound.”

Nightwing looks at Red in horror as he basically promised to protect a wanted criminal. He didn’t seem to concerned by it. He even surprises his team by removing his helmet as he looks to the one they were chasing.

“I found your file on Amanda Waller’s network. Took me three days, but I know what she did to you, (Y/N).” The man she knew from the gas station.

The images of all the torture she endured flashed through her mind all at once as she remembers all Waller put her through for the sake of her cure.

Multiple executions to test the powers of the pit. Torture and savage punishments for the slightest disobedience. The nightmares and madness that fueled so many panic attacks. The feeling of her organs stolen to be put in that evil woman so she can use her healing factor to win against cancer while she spent days slowly dying and coming back to life over and over until her new organs regenerated back into her.

“Why?!” She snaps at him as rage filled her again. Her confusion over his insistence to help her made her so angry. Why would he wanna help her? Just because they were both dunked in a pool of Ra’s bath water?

“You’re the feared Red Hood! You’ve done worst shit than I’ve ever done and you are trying to act as my savior?!” She yells at him as she stomps towards him.

Nightwing tries to step between them, but Red keeps him away as she finally stood before him. Her hand rips off her goggles, revealing her face to him as she pokes into his chest. Her own chest tightening as her body shook. Her breath was tight as angry tears rolled down her face.

“Answer me, dammit! Why do you think you can save me?!”

“I don’t think I can save you.” He answers honestly. “I wanna help you save yourself…”

A look of grief passes over his eyes as he looks at the shorter woman. A memory of someone she didn’t know making his resolve strengthen.

“I was trapped in a state of anger for so long that I pushed everyone away that was trying to help me…it wasn’t until I lost the one person that tried to save me that I realized how much it meant to have someone just hold a hand out for me…” He says as he grips her shoulders. The expected coldness didn’t meet her. She felt him. The warmth seeping through his gloves into her suit. It felt…comforting….nice.

Her vision began tunneling as she felt her chest hyperventilating as she cries. His gentle words finally breaking her as he mumbles to her. “Let me help you fight the madness so you won’t be alone anymore…”

Her knees buckling as a sob broke through her. The warmth of his arms wrapping around her and pulling her into his chest made her cries so gut wrenching. Robin, Batgirl, and Nightwing watch in shock as they watched Jason, not only be the most gentle he’s ever been with someone, but see a stray tear fall from him eye.

As the two remained tied together as an unspoken bond was formed. A bond between two lost souls forcibly brought back into this world now feeling safe in each other’s warmth.

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Author’s Note: I’m gonna make a part 2 to this one because I actually like it. Let me know if you like this, if you hate it, or whatever. I’m trying to clear out my drafts so expect more Jason and other characters coming out either this week or next week.

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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE COPYING, STEALING, OR REPOSTING OF MY FANFICS ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

[buckgasms]

Now I know Bucky isn't a mafia boss or anything in the Princess universe BUT I feel like he would have enemies and people would definitely think his Princess was a good target.

So imagine with me that you are out shopping and you are suddenly surrounded by burly men in suits who guide you to an unfamiliar car. Your shopping bags are left on the curb as the tyres screech as they peel away.

Maybe for a moment you think, is this an elaborate prank that Daddy has set up? But as you begin to speak a hand clamps around your mouth, pressing a damp rag to your face and everything turns black.

🖤

You wake up, groaning as you feel your hands tied to a chair and you still aren't quite sure if this is one of Daddy's games, because you've definitely been put in this position before.

"Ah you're awake, quite the snorer you know..."

A slippery voice speaks in the darkness of the room. It looks like a cheap hotel suite. Big but grubby, the sheets on the bed look like they be greasy to the touch and the walls are a sad beige. No. Daddy wouldn't bring you here. You should feel scared, but the fact this man is hiding from you makes you a little bolder.

"Bucky's gonna kill you..." You say, keeping your voice as steady as you can. "And I don't snore..."

The man chuckles and appears into your view. He looks vaguely familiar, maybe someone Bucky has identified to you at a party of some kind. A shady character, dirty dealings and always trying to encroach on Bucky's businesses.

"Now... Are you going to be good for me?"

You balk at his words and grimace. He pulls out a long knife and you shiver. You knew Daddy would be on the way, but how long did you have to endure would be unknown.

"You are going to tell me everything I want to know or I'm going to ruin that very pretty face of yours..."

🖤

When Bucky's security team kicked down the door of the hotel room they were almost surprised to find you unscathed, your captor laying on the bed with a pen and paper in his hand, both of you looking quite relaxed.

Well until they grabbed him and dragged him out of the room.

Bucky came storming in, eyes wild in panic until he saw you smiling at him. He dropped down, hands going to the binds around your ankles and wrists.

"Are you ok Princess? Are you hurt baby?"

You smile, tears of relief welling in your eyes and you wrap your arms around him. "M'fine Daddy, he didn't hurt me too bad..."

He pulled back, holding your face in his hands before kissing you desperately, lips, cheeks, nose, forehead.

"Did you do what I told ya?" He says, panic lacing his voice and he checks your skin for damage, stroking at the red marks appearing on your wrists. He looks a you again, searching.

You giggle and nod. "Yeah, I told him everything I knew. Everything I could think of..."

Bucky grins and drags you in for another kiss. "Good girl, so proud of you Princess..."

🖤

"If you ever get taken baby I need you to do something for me..."

You lay in Daddy's arms, stroking his chin as his hand wraps around your wrist. You roll your eyes and giggle, but he pulls you to focus.

"It's important Babygirl, I want you to pay attention." He couples that with rolling you on top of him, your naked body pressing into his. You were very much aware of everything that was happening now.

"If anyone takes you and they wanna know my secrets..."

"Daddy don't worry I'll keep my mouth closed" you say, making a zip motion across your lips, throwing away the key, he grabs your hand and shakes his head.

"No princess. I want you to tell them everything you can think of. Nothing I do is worth hurting you for. Tell them whatever you can baby. I want you to promise me that.."

Your eyes widen a little, thinking about the gravity of what he's saying. His business, his empire, that he built from nothing. He'd risk it all to keep you from harm.

"Ok Daddy, I promise..." You lean down and kiss him as he rolls back over, squashing you, sending you into a fit of giggles and showing you again how much he loves you.

🖤

His fingers run through your hair as you cup his face in your soft hands. Despite the way it went, you were still pretty scared and being back in his arms was a great relief.

Sensing your adrenaline bubbling he picks you up and carries you out of the room. You bury your face into his neck and breathe deeply, trying to relax in his arms. Finally he climbs into the car and settles you on his lap.

"I'm so sorry this happened baby, never wanted you to get caught up in stuff like this. That son of a bitch is gonna pay, I swear to god..."

He watches you, as you fiddle with his shirt buttons, a look of concern on your face. He tilts your chin until you meet his gaze, thumb stroking gently at your cheek.

"Are you ok Princess?"

"Yes I think so... it's just....Daddy..... Do I snore?"

[aphroditelovesu]

Cyrus and Aella Headcanons

��commission: headcannons about the twins (Cyrus and Aella). — requested by 💻 anon.

❝ 📜 — lady l: I spent a few days thinking about how to create a different but complementary personality for the twins and this came out, I think it turned out good. They're my babies, my first OC's to be honest, and I need to write more for them. I hope you like it and forgive me if there are any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: none.

❝📜word count: 1,208.

Cyrus and Aella have complementary personalities. Cyrus is calmer and more reflective, while Aella is energetic and adventurous. 

From a young age, Cyrus has always demonstrated a serene and contemplative nature. He is a deep thinker, often lost in his own thoughts. He prefers to analyze situations before acting, evaluating all possible consequences.

His ability to formulate complex strategies is unparalleled. Cyrus loves studying ancient texts on military tactics and philosophy, drawing inspiration from great thinkers like Aristotle, who was also a mentor to his father.

Aella, on the other hand, is a true free spirit. Since she was a child, she was known for her tireless energy and thirst for adventure. Always looking for new experiences, she loves exploring unknown territories and engaging in challenging activities.

Aella has a natural talent for leadership. Her courage and determination inspire those around her, and she quickly gains the loyalty of her followers. On the battlefield, her presence is motivating, and her strategy skills are admirable. If she could (and perhaps can) carry a sword, she will.

Unlike Cyrus, Aella often acts on intuition. She trusts her instincts and is willing to take risks that others would avoid. This approach, while risky, often leads to surprisingly positive results.

Aella has a strong sense of justice and is a fervent defender of the oppressed. She does not hesitate to fight for causes she believes are just, even if it means confronting powerful adversaries and defying the laws that prohibit her from doing what she wants just because she is a woman.

The combination of her personalities creates a perfect balance. While Cyrus plans and calculates every move with precision, Aella is ready to act quickly and face any challenge with courage and vigor. If they decided to rule together, it would be almost impossible to stop them.

In crises, Cyrus can calm and guide Aella, while she can encourage him to step out of his comfort zone and make bolder decisions. They complement each other.

Communication between the twins is almost telepathic. They understand each other with a simple exchange of glances, allowing for fluid and efficient collaboration, whether in strategic discussions or battles.

This complementarity makes them unbeatable, whether in the administration of the empire, in leading armies, or in diplomacy. They support each other, using their strengths to cover each other's weaknesses.

Since they were little, Cyrus and Aella have developed a secret language that they use to communicate without others understanding. This makes them even more united and inseparable.

Language includes a combination of hand gestures, facial expressions, small sounds, and even visual cues. Each gesture or sound has a specific meaning, allowing for quick and effective communication.

In situations where they need to communicate without being overheard by others, such as in strategic meetings or on the battlefield or just to hide secrets from their parents, secret language is essential. It allows them to share critical information with others.

Alexander's passion for exploring and conquering unknown lands is inherited by Aella, who frequently ventures beyond the borders of the empire, always accompanied by Cyrus, who prefers to explore through study and diplomacy.

From an early age, Alexander the Great recognized the extraordinary potential of his twin children, Cyrus and Aella. He made sure that they both received exhaustive training in combat and strategy, aware that their skills would be essential to the continuity and expansion of the empire.

In addition to practical training, Cyrus dedicated himself intensely to theoretical studies. He read the texts of Aristotle, Socrates and other philosophers and historians, seeking to understand the dynamics of power, war and politics. His evenings were often spent in the library, where he studied maps and developed new strategies. Cyrus has developed a close bond with his uncle Hephaestion, mainly because they look so much alike.

Cyrus saw Hephaestion as a trusted figure to whom he could turn for advice and emotional support. Hephaestion, in turn, saw in Cyrus a reflection of himself and was dedicated to guiding him in the best way possible. Hephaestion helped Cyrus hone his diplomatic skills, teaching him to negotiate and mediate conflicts with the same effectiveness he demonstrated on the battlefield.

Aella, from a young age, showed an innate talent for combat, despite not actually fighting because she was not allowed to. Her training included a wide range of fighting techniques, from wielding swords and spears to hand-to-hand combat. She trained daily with the best warriors in the army, improving her strength, agility and precision. Due to her aptitude for fighting, although it was not common at the time, Aella ended up becoming quite close to Cleitus, who was mainly the one who taught her.

Cleitus, known for his skill and bravery on the battlefield, dedicated himself to training Aella in advanced hand-to-hand combat techniques. Under his guidance, Aella perfected her use of swords, spears and unarmed combat. Cleitus also focused on developing Aella's stamina and agility, subjecting her to rigorous exercises that made her not only strong but also quick and flexible. This prepared her to face opponents of different sizes and fighting styles.

Aella has a strong connection with nature and animals. She often spends her time in forests and mountains, while Cyrus prefers gardens and libraries. However, they both share a deep love for the natural world.

(Y/N), Alexandre's wife and mother of the twins ensures that her children receive a complete education, with tutors from different areas of knowledge. Cyrus shows great interest in philosophy and history, while Aella is interested in poetry and music.

Cyrus devotes hours to the study of great philosophers, including Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. He enjoys debates about ethics, politics and the nature of knowledge, often discussing these ideas with his tutors and applying them to his life and strategic decisions.

He analyzes the strategies of historical leaders, learning from their successes and failures. This enriches his own strategic capabilities, helping him develop innovative tactics for military campaigns.

Aella studies the works of great Greek poets, such as Homer and Hesiod, as well as the lyrics of Sappho and Pindar. She writes her own verses, expressing her emotions and experiences through poetry. There is no doubt that she inherited her father's love of reading, especially the Iliad.

Aella learns to play several instruments, such as the lyre and the flute and receives training in singing. Her tutors teach her about music theory, composition, and the Greek musical tradition.

The twins feel an innate curiosity about their mother's heritage and if given the opportunity, they will visit their mother's time to learn about her origins and cultures other than Greek.

Over time, Alexandre begins to trust his children's advice more and more. Cyrus becomes a trusted strategist, while Aella helps inspire and lead the troops, earning the soldiers' respect, just as her mother did years ago.

Despite the fierce love and loyalty that exists between the twins, there is a healthy rivalry between Cyrus and Aella, especially during training and games. This rivalry encourages them to constantly surpass each other.

After Alexander's death, Cyrus and Aella assume central roles in preserving and expanding the empire. Cyrus focuses on strengthening diplomatic alliances, while Aella leads military campaigns, both keeping their father's legacy alive.

[stormtide-leviathan]

A man enters the court, frightened yet brave. He is both cisgender and heterosexual- a pitiful and downtrodden lot who are given but scraps by the vast and all-powerful homosexual empire. He approaches the throne, upon which sits the collective embodiment of queer people in fandom, a being with uncontested rule of the sexualities of all fictional characters. He brings out a picture of two men, noble heroes from a story of old, whose unbreakable companionship is famed across the land. He begs, meekly at first, but growing bolder with each word.

“Please, my liege. I have but one humble request. Could you please, this once, let these two men be friends? I find myself enamored by their friendship, for it is my own being I see reflected in them.” The avatar-king remains silent for but a moment, and yet that moment drags into eternity, their mask of a face yielding no window into their thoughts.

Finally, they speak. “No. They shall make out sloppy style. With tongue.” The man looks in horror as his picture is transformed, once a picturesque portrayal of an intimate friendship, now an obscene image in which his once-beloved heroes lie in bed, entangled in eachothers’ nude embrace. The avatar-king pulls a lever beside their throne and a door opens beneath the man. The man’s final anguished screams fade as he falls into the dark depths that spell his doom.

[thenerdperson]

Ok hear me out, I know we all love talking about how the time period of Grian getting possessed is taking less and less time as things go on, but what if there was a reason for that?

The Watchers did not like Grian's affinity for mischief and rebellion, they didn't realize when they made him one of them that it was inevitable he would rebel but they quickly realized. So, they carved an empty space in his mind, making him oh so easy to possess if he got too out of hand. However, despite this countermeasure, he escaped.

The trauma runs deep, and Grian is secretly constantly scared the Watchers will find him and use that space to possess him and turn on his friends. So he comes to the reasonable conclusion (in his mind) that if he doesn't want the Watchers in that space then he just needs to fill it!

The Mycelium was never malicious and actually quite liked the greenery, however she's never gotten to interact and play with the players before! Grian's deal with her means she gets to play pranks and have fun along with everyone else! She doesn't mind sharing control over Grian's body so long as she gets to be apart of the fun, and had no issue leaving Grian when they won the war because she had so much fun!

The Void was lonely more than anything, and they rarely got so much attention, and the sacrifices were really nice of boatem to provide. (Though the Void was far more interested in Scar than Grian, Scar's mental shields were too great to even think about possessing him, plus Grian gave Scar so much attention the Void hardly had to do anything anyways)

The moon didn't really possess Grian, just occasionally came along riding in Grian's head in the possession equivalent of carpooling. The moon just really liked seeing the man who made a whole cult in their honor through the eyes of someone who loves him. The moon really just sticks around to see the silly little cult man and their favorite moth through the eyes of someone else. (The moon has a long established deal with Pearl but really likes the new perspectives sometimes)

The Entity was more of a kid than anything, and only stayed with Grian long enough to give him instructions on how it wanted to look, and quickly moved to possessing its new body. It took a bit of time for the Entity to learn that players were kind of fragile and squishy unlike Grian, but it quickly learned, and was very happy to finally be able to communicate on a level everyone could hear instead of the frequencies only something as powerful as a Watcher could hear.

The Rift was far more cautious than its younger sibling, but when it saw how Grian treated the Entity, even when the Entity made mistakes, the Rift reached out. While the Rift was far older than the Entity, it was not unlike a touched-starved young adult, old enough to understand things better, but not yet fully matured, and quietly desperate for any contact. (The Rift was Grian's favorite, though he would never admit it, and he felt a lot of kinship to it) The portal to Empires was the Rift's attempt at a thank you, giving Grian an opportunity to see Jimmy again.

The Skulk tried to possess Grian, it was probably going to take advantage to how vulnerable Grian was to possession, however it was a bit to spread out (ha) to give a good effort to overcome Grian and the Rift was too powerful to overcome its stake on Grian. It never got further than one floating bolder.

The Ocean was not unlike Mycelium in just wanting some mischief and the Void in wanting attention. However she quickly realized she was far more interested in the attention the pretty red-head gave her. She was having fun with Grian, but she realized she felt rather bad (she's never felt guilt before and she really doesnt like it) upon messing with Grian by giving Scar the mending book. She quickly decided to fix her mistakes, and gave Grian a mending book of his own, however she does occasionally come over when she is in need of a friend and Grian wants a break (excuse) from the permit office.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Battle Scars

@summer-of-bad-batch week 6 prompt

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Tech, Phee Relationships: Tech/Phee Set in season 2 between Tipping Point and The Summit. After learning Crosshair is a prisoner of the Empire, before learning Hemlock will be travelling to Eriadu Word Count: ~1025 Read Here on AO3

Content Warning: Teen rated, post-sex kissing, no smut - just talking

Synopsis: Phee admires Tech's battle scars, prompting a comparison with his brothers.

“And this one?”

Tech shivered pleasantly as Phee traced her fingers along the scar on his pectoral, then arched his back as she followed the touch with her lips.

“That one is from a mission to Kashyyyk.”

“You boys really have been all over.” Phee’s breath tickled across his skin, and Tech reached down to cup her jaw and pull her back into a deep, lazy kiss.

“We have,” he murmured, luxuriating in the way she stretched her body against his. “It has been… an interesting life.”

The narrow racks on the Marauder weren’t the most comfortable, but with their bodies tangled together like this it was hard to care. Tech took a deep, contented breath, a private smile flickering across his face as he wondered what his brothers would make of this kind of activity in the bunk area.

With her hand still splayed across his chest, Phee rubbed her thumb along the ridge of scar tissue. “I didn’t expect you to have so many scars, Brown-Eyes.” She smirked, a playful quirk of her mouth as she flipped the curling edges of his hair teasingly. “GAR armour not good enough to protect you?”

“On the contrary,” said Tech, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. “The scar you see would likely have been a fatal wound without my armour to absorb the impact.” He pulled back a little, fixing her with a quizzical stare. “Do you think I do nothing more than fly the ship and slice computer data?”

Her answering chuckle was light and carefree. “I know you’re as tough as the rest of them,” she reassured him, twining her knee between his legs to press them even closer. “But when you think about it, it’s easy to imagine those crazy brothers of yours charging into combat. You always struck me as the more cautious type.”

Tech leaned into her, brushing his nose along hers before capturing her lips in another kiss. “Then perhaps you don’t know me that well yet.”

She grinned against his mouth, welcoming his kiss with open-mouthed eagerness. “I’m enjoying getting to know you better, that’s for sure.”

The clone commando flushed a little at her flirtatious words, his smile turning slightly shy. “I… am enjoying this too, Ms Genoa,” he said softly, pulling back a bare inch, just enough so that he could meet her eyes as he spoke. Then, bolder, the question thrown out with casual nonchalance, “So you like the scars?”

Phee hummed her approval, sliding down his body once more to map the lines of his old injuries with her lips.

Tech relaxed, propping one arm behind his head, trailing the fingertips of his other hand down the back of her arm and playing with the light dusting of scars he found on her own skin. She may not have fought in the Clone Wars, but her life had been no less adventurous than his own – and over a longer timespan, chronologically speaking. His accelerated ageing might mean he was biologically the same age as her, but her life experience far outweighed his.

“I assure you,” he said, mind spinning down the channels of their conversation even as she explored his body, “I have spent just as much time in close combat as Hunter and Wrecker have. I simply take more care to avoid injury.” He chuckled to himself. “You should see how many scars they bear.”

“Should I now?” asked Phee, raising her head and raising an eyebrow. Tech’s gentle blush deepened.

“That’s not what I meant–”

“It’s alright,” she teased, pinching his hip before levering herself back up the bed to drape herself along his torso. “If I was just into men with scars, I’d have picked your brothers for sure.”

She laughed as he sputtered, twining both hands into his hair and smiling down at him. It was so different to see his deep brown of his eyes without the glaze of amber lenses in front of them. Somehow, that felt just as intimate as everything they’d done before.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I like you for your brains. The rest of this…” and she ran an appreciative glance down the length of his body stretched out beneath her, “is a bonus.”

Somewhat mollified, Tech brought his hands to rest gently on her waist. “Crosshair is the only one of us without an appreciable number of scars,” he said. “His role as our sniper often kept him at range from the heat of combat.”

A slight furrow formed between his brows, and the corners of his mouth turned down as his gaze went distant past Phee’s head.

“At least, last time I saw him.”

Sensing the shift in his mood, Phee eased up to put some space between their bodies. “I’m sure you’ll find him,” she said softly, her expression understanding.

Tech’s hands briefly tightened against her skin, before he placed a quick kiss to her cheek and rolled her off of him and onto the thin mattress.

“I should check the computer, see if there are any results from the scans.”

Phee wriggled into a sitting position, pulling the sheets up to cover herself as she watched him stand, beginning to dress quickly and efficiently.

“Well,” she drawled with a slight eye-roll, “glad I could provide a distraction whilst you waited for the scans to finish.”

Pausing as he was about to clip his utility belt on, Tech turned to her and leaned down, cupping her jaw once more as he gazed seriously into her eyes.

“You have been a more than pleasant distraction,” he murmured, a faint smile whispering across his face. “I would be very happy to resume our activities another time… if you are also up for this.”

In other circumstances she might have kept her poker face, but Phee let her grin break through as she leaned in for a final, quick kiss.

“Oh I am,” she assured him, then swatted him lightly as he stood. “Go check your scans. Find your brother.” She lounged back on the rack, relishing the way his gaze followed her with poorly-concealed interest. “I’ll be waiting.”

Tech and Phee 100% hooked up before Eriadu, you cannot convince me otherwise. "You were just going to leave without saying goodbye" yes he was because he thought he'd be coming back to talk about what this relationship development meant after a successful mission ;_;

[christian-oc-tournament]

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Nokh [Songs of the Fallen @ethanjhake]

The very manifestation of Death itself who has been stalking Princess Kimera since childhood.

Peter Dragonsbane [The Marshal's Saga @apieters]

A semi-legendary figure by the events of the main stories I want to write, Peter Dragonsbane is the founder of the Perseyn/Marshal family. As a boy, he learned how to forge dragonsteel (an alloy of steel and a dragon scale, which is nigh-indestructible, does not corrode, and never needs sharpening) from the Prince of the Gods, who helped him forge a greatsword. Peter then used the greatsword to help the Prince of the Gods slay a firebreathing dragon, earning him and his sword the nickname of Dragonsbane. In return for his help and loyalty, the Prince of the Gods made an everlasting covenant with Peter and his descendants: Peter was to have an unbroken line of sons, and the Prince of the Gods swore to himself that as Peter wielded Dragonsbane, so the Dragonsbane's descendants would be the sword of the Prince of the Gods for all time. Peter himself was arguably the first and greatest of those who took on this role. As the boy grew up, he defended the Isles from the Thrallic Empire, the civilization on the mainland of the continent of Heimar, infamous for being built on the backs of slaves; for this, Peter became the first Lord of the Isles. He was called by the Prince of the Gods again in young adulthood to end the slavery of the Thrallic Empire. He conducted raids, sailing up rivers in a fleet of longships to free the captives of slavers, but soon he grew bolder, and began to fight skirmishes and battles. Soon, he learned of the other Heroes of Heimar, other men called by the Prince of the Gods to destroy the wicked civilization of the Thrallic Empire, and when they gathered it was the Dragonsbane who became their Commander in Chief. With the greatsword Dragonsbane in his hand, Peter lead his armies to victory, driving the Thrallic Empire off the continent of Heimar.

[sapphicbookclub]

The Genesis of Misery Neon Yang

This is the story of Misery Nomaki (she/they) – a nobody from a nowhere mining planet who possesses the rare stone-working powers of a saint. Unfortunately, these saint-like abilities also manifest in those succumbing to voidmadness, like that which killed Misery’s mother. Knowing they aren’t a saint but praying they aren’t voidmad, Misery keeps quiet about their power for years, while dreaming and scheming up ways off their Forge-forsaken planet.

But when the voice of an angel, or a very convincing delusion, leads Misery to the center of the Empire, they find themself trapped between two powerful and dangerous factions, each hoping to use Misery to win a terrible war.

Still waiting to be convinced of their own divinity and secretly training with a crew of outlaws and outcasts, Misery grows close to a rebel royal, Lady Alodia Lightning, who may know something of saints and prophecy herself. The voice that guides Misery grows bolder by the day, and it seems the madness is catching…

Genres: science fiction, space opera

Get the book from Blackwell's with free worldwide shipping here!

Listen to the book on audiobooks.com here!

[drivinmeinsane]

i know you just did this, but good god i need more of the driver!!! you just write him so incredibly well. the driver x ken fic is my roman empire <2

anyway i just love driver being dangerous and intense and obsessed with the reader, if that's something you'd wanna write :)

Thank you!!!! Driver is one of my absolute faves to write for, and I'm glad you enjoyed the content I wrote for the silly little ship. <3

I hope this is along the lines you were looking for!

{ masterlist }

※ Summary: Your not-quite-boyfriend, Driver, handles your after work harassment situation.

※ Rating: T for mention of implied murder and sexual harassment

※ Word count: 1130

You’re quiet when you get into the passenger seat of his car. The black leather seat is cold underneath you. You buckle yourself in, hoping that your body doesn’t betray you with shaky hands. The man behind the wheel doesn’t greet you. That’s normal. Perfect even, after the night you’ve had. 

“Thanks for picking me up,” you finally say, trying to aim for normalcy.

“Happy to do it.” He doesn’t spare any extra words.

It’s routine now, this nameless man picking you up from work. He's been doing it ever since he slid into your life at the laundromat of all places. He'd offered you a ride back to your apartment in his forty year old car after being involved in the struggle with your laundry basket. It had ripped itself out of your hands and emptied the contents over the pavement. He helped you put everything back in despite your furiously flushing face. He didn’t bat an eye over your ratty sweatpants or your underwear. Accepting his offer was easy. He seemed politely earnest, safe. Besides, you had reasoned, it was broad daylight. What harm could there possibly be? 

There hadn’t been any. The short ride had gone so easily that you had let it slip that you were without a vehicle. In response, he offered to help you with errands and to take you to and from work. You shot him down partially, insisted on walking or taking the bus during daylight hours to your job. He had begrudgingly relented on picking you up from your workplace. This agreement has ended in the two of you spending a lot of time together. More than you probably should be. It's not just errands and commutes. There have been shared meals, movies… he’s been everything but your boyfriend. That line still has not been crossed. Though… you have started to wonder what it would be like to take the ever-present toothpick out of his mouth and kiss him. Would he let you? Would he enjoy it?

You finally take a look at him while you sit in silence at the last stop light before the turn into your apartment’s parking lot. He is looking straight ahead, eyes focused on the street beyond the Chevy’s hood. His face is impassive, but right as the light turns green, his eyes flicker to meet yours. The possessive glint in them causes your breath to hitch. For a split second, he looks like he would eat you alive. You turn away, the moment passes.

He doesn’t speak until he pulls into a parking spot in front of your apartment building. He gets out and opens your door for you like always, ever the considerate friend. He watches you extract yourself and shuts the door after you. He leans against it, crosses his arms, looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“What happened tonight?” Disinterested tone to go right along with his relaxed posture. His eyes say differently.

A long silence stretches out between the two of you. You’re reluctant to speak, embarrassed over the situation. You manage to look at him and he calmly raises his eyebrows. He’s not going to drop it. 

“You know… it was just those guys again. They got a little bolder tonight, I guess.”

“What did they do?”

“Ran their mouths,” you shrug. “One of them found some courage and slapped me on the ass…” You trail off, the look on Driver’s face enough to steal the words right out of your mouth. You’ve never seen him look angry, not like this. 

“I’ll kill ‘em.”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking. When his face doesn’t soften, you realize he’s serious and you sober up. “No. I’m okay. Really. Please don’t worry about it.”

“They upset you.” The mechanic says it matter of factly, like upsetting you is a death sentence. 

You wring your fingers together. Uncertain. Nervous. Concerned. You haven’t been sure of what your relationship with him is lately, and when he acts like this, you’re even less sure. He frightens a primal part of your brain with his intensity. He is like a different creature in the night, more animal than man.

“Driver…” you say softly. You’re not sure of what else to say.

He stays quiet. The look on his face as he leans against his car and rolls the toothpick in his mouth between his fingers is full of dark promise. You shiver and it has nothing to do with the cold. He notices it, of course he does. He’s the most observant person you have ever met. Nothing escapes his awareness. The man pushes himself out of his casual lean, uncrosses his arms, and comes to your side. He lightly brushes his fingers over the back of your arm. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the layers separating your bodies. 

The walk to your front door is uneventful. He remains at your side, close enough to where you brush against one another with every other step. You pause at the door, unlock it, and impulsively twist to look up at him. You catch a tender look on his face before he puts his guard up and he’s a blank slate again. Your mouth feels dry. You throw caution into the wind and fully face him. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you wrap your arms around him, firmly hugging the man. Driver is stiff, caught by surprise, but his arms come up around you. You stand like that for a long moment. He gradually relaxes and melts against you. 

“Don’t do anything ridiculous. I worry about you,” you mumble against the smooth fabric of his bomber jacket. You reluctantly release him and step back. 

He doesn’t respond with words, just opens your door for you and gently guides you through your own doorway with a firm hand spanning across your lower back. 

“Goodnight," he tells you.

───※ ·❆· ※───

It’s not until halfway through your shift that your coworkers start making a ruckus. One of them loudly calls your name from the other room until you respond. You push through the swinging door out into the dining area to see the other employees gathered around the television mounted on the wall. 

“-beaten almost to the point of no recognition-”, “police say the men were found in an alley by-”, “-no suspects at this time-” 

The news anchor’s voice fades in and out as your mind reels. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.

“Aren’t these the guys that were giving you trouble last night? Musta got on somebody’s bad side.” The dishboy jokes to you.

“Yeah,” you say, faking a laugh.

He would. You know in your gut that he would. For you, he would do anything.

[amerrierworld]

Ten Years

Summary: You never thought you'd see him again. Yet there he was.

Characters: Obi-Wan x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: SPOILERS for Kenobi (2022). Reunion fluff. If folks want more of this, let me know...

You had been helping clean up the dishwasher droids when Queen Breha Organa had poked her head in the kitchens. All of you scampered to attention, and she chuckled, waving her hand and telling all the staff to relax.

“No reason to be so flustered, everyone,” she smiled kindly. “Y/N, could we see you for a moment?”

You blinked in surprise, before dropping your oil-stained cloth and apron on your chair and following the Queen from the kitchens.

She walked briskly down the hallway and you hurried to keep up, curious as to what was going on. You had been employed with the Organas for a decade now, had served and cleaned in every nook and cranny of their estate, and had become fast friends with their young daughter, whom you had tutored, cared for, and babysat multiple times.

Breha led you to her personal chambers where a clean, quite fancy-looking outfit was laid out over the bed, with added accessories and shoes even.

“Right then,” she said, clapping her hands. “This is yours. I think the sizing is fine, we based it around your uniform size so it should fit. If you could be ready and be at the doors of the landing platform in about half an hour, that would be fantastic. Just stay inside and wait until you’re told otherwise.”

“My lady?”

“And,” she brushed an oil spot off the side of your cheek. “Do tell me if the kitchen duties are boring you. You know we’d employ you to do anything you’d like around here. After everything you’ve done, it’s the least we could do.”

“Oh, thank you my lady, but there’s help needed in the kitchens, so I really don’t mind cleaning at the moment.”

“Very well,” she sighed, stepping away. “Half an hour, please. Don’t be late.”

“My lady?” you interjected again before she headed out the door. “Is there something going on?”

Breha smiled again, with a strange twinkle in her eyes. “Nothing to worry, dear. Just a surprise.”

-

“We can never repay you.”

“Well, she has already done that,” Obi-Wan sighed, looking over his shoulder at little Leia, giddily playing with Lola. Bail had a wry smile on his face as he followed his gaze to his adoptive daughter,

“I fear for her future, Obi-Wan,” he said. “The empire grows stronger and bolder. Not many can be trusted, and those we did trust… some are disappearing as we speak.”

“Well, if you ever need my help again, you know where to find me.” Obi-Wan clapped Bail on the shoulder. “I won’t be disappearing like that again.”

He turned to Breha, and grasped her hand. “Farewell, my lady.”

He pulled away, but Breha was still holding his hand. He looked up at her, and could sense she was holding something back.

“But before you go,” Breha interjected, shifting her eyes to glance at Bail. “Why not stay for dinner?”

Obi-Wan frowned, incredulity written all over his face. “Dinner? At a time like this?”

“Well, there’s lots to catch up on, isn’t there?”

“I don’t think being in hiding for ten years makes for a pleasant dinner conversation, Lady Breha,” Obi-Wan chuckled dryly. “Besides, it wouldn’t be safe.”

“I think you’ll want to stay for dinner, my friend,” Bail said, a mysterious lilt n his tone. “There’s something… someone for you to see.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, his hand slipping from Breha’s and resting at his lightsaber hilt. “Is it dangerous?”

Bail gave a small smirk and nodded his head towards the entrance at the end of the walkway, where the metal doors slid open.

-

You fiddled with your sleeves, nervous at presenting yourself. You could only imagine some figurehead friend of Bail and Breha wanted to meet you out of all people. Perhaps an old politician friend they thought they could trust from the Old Republic. Maybe Leia wanted her to come for some silly party adventure. Whatever it was, you could take it.

As the doors finally opened, you squinted at the sunlight and looked out to see four figures standing by a small ship. Two were the Organas, one was little Leia, and the fourth…

Obi-Wan felt himself go numb at the sight of you. Still a distance away, but you, alive, and breathing.

He brushed past the Organas without much thought, feet feeling heavy as he thought he was seeing a ghost at first. Perhaps it wasn’t you, perhaps it was a trick of the light, or he really needed sleep. He stopped a few feet in, wind ruffling his hair as he stared.

But then you stepped out onto the walkway in the sunlight, and he saw your familiar beauty and kind eyes light up with disbelief and astoundment. You were wearing simple silver robes – an outfit he’d never seen you in before. Your face was clean, a bit wearier now, but your smile seemed the same. He inhaled sharply as the sun hit you and you suddenly stopped walking, a frown on your face as you looked at him from the distance.

First you thought, no it couldn’t be. Obi-Wan wouldn’t risk appearing like this, surely. What would he be doing here? Your heart was pounding and you felt yourself go numb when you realized, no, it really is him.

Then you broke out into a jog, and then you were sprinting towards him, and then he too began running towards you. Suddenly the only thing that mattered in the whole universe was getting to him, right now.

Your feet hit the stone beneath you as you ran, robes fluttering behind you. Wind rushed past you in a daze. Every second he came closer you couldn’t pry your eyes off him – afraid he’d disappear again.

The gasp of relief as you flung your arms around him sounded like music to his ears. It was hard to think it had been ten years when suddenly it felt like the old days again.

“Obi-Wan,” you breathed, voice breaking already. His arms wrapped around your waist and his own breath was shaky. You held the nape of his neck, caressing through his locks with a tenderness he had missed.

You wanted to breathe him in, remember the touch of his hands, the feeling of his body.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” you muttered into his cloak, eyes watering. “I didn’t know if you were alive… or far away… or…”

You pulled away from him to properly take in the sight of him. He had a rough, rugged beard that was thicker than the last time you saw him, and his hair was straggly and longer with much more greys.

“Oh,” you said softly, hand cupping his face with your eyes tracing the lines along his skin. “Time has not been kind to you, my darling.”

“What a kind way to tell me I’ve aged horribly,” he muttered with a huff of a laugh. His voice had your head swimming in wonderful, soothing molasses. You chuckled. He kept you close to his body, arms securely wrapped around your waist. “You haven’t changed, my dear.”

You threw your head back and scoffed, “it’s been ten years, Obi. Of course I have.”

“Well, to me, you haven’t,” he smiled. Your hand slipped down to rest on his chest, and you felt the throbbing of his heart, fast and nervous. He looked at you with softened, kind eyes, like the eyes that would look at you across from the booth at Dex’s Diner. Like the eyes that glistened when you had that rushed, heartfelt goodbye. Like the eyes that stared at you in the dark of the Jedi Temple when you stole a kiss from him, quickly and sweetly.

“I didn’t know you were on Alderaan,” he muttered. “How long--?”

“Since that day,” you said, looking up at him. The day when everything changed, and everything had gone wrong. “Bail told me he was taking the girl, and suggested I go with him. I had nowhere else to go, not when you…”

“When I told you that you couldn’t come with me and the boy,” his eyes were downcast, shifting away from you with a remorseful voice. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“How could I? You insisted on the secrecy, and I wanted all of us, you, me, them to be safe. Plus, you were already gone by the time I had made my choice.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, desperate to find out more, but then a small girl flung herself around your form and pulled at your robes.

“You know him?!” Leia gasped. You chuckled, returning the hug.

“Yes, Leia. We happen to be very old friends.”

“Emphasis on old,” Obi-Wan added. You shot him a look as Bail and Breha both joined you again, beaming with wide smiles.

“So, old friend,” Bail chuckled. “Now will you stay for dinner?”

Obi-Wan took one glance at you and smiled. “Yes.”

A/N: Back on the star wars bandwagon folks... maybe more to come?? I need to catch up on all my shows 0.0

AND THANK U for the music suggestions so far! Am working on them :3

[historysideblog]

Online History Short-Courses offered by Universities Masterpost

Categories: Classical Studies, Egyptology, Medieval, Renaissance, The Americas, Asia, Other, Linguistics, Archaeology

How to get Coursera courses for free: There are several types of courses on Coursera, some will allow you to study the full course and only charge for the optional-certificate, for others you will need to audit it and you may have limited access (usually just to assignments), and thirdly some courses charge a monthly subscription in this case a 7 day free trial is available.

Classical Studies 🏛️🏺

At the Origins of the Mediterranean Civilization: Archeology of the City from the Levant to the West 3rd-1st millennium BC - Sapienza University of Rome

Greek and Roman Mythology - University of Pennsylvania

Health and Wellbeing in the Ancient World - Open University

Roman Architecture - Yale

Roman Art and Archeology - University of Arizona

Rome: A Virtual Tour of the Ancient City - University of Reading

The Ancient Greeks - Wesleyan University

The Changing Landscape of Ancient Rome. Archeology and History of Palatine Hill - Sapienza University of Rome

Uncovering Roman Britain in Old Museum Collections - University of Reading

Egyptology 𓂀⚱️

Egypt before and after pharaohs - Sapienza University of Rome

Introduction to Ancient Egypt and Its Civilization - University of Pennsylvania

Wonders of Ancient Egypt - University of Pennsylvania

Medieval 🗡️🏰

Age of Cathedrals - Yale

Coexistence in Medieval Spain: Jews, Christians, and Muslims - University of Colorado

Deciphering Secrets: The Illuminated Manuscripts of Medieval Europe - University of Colorado

Enlightening the Dark Ages: Early Medieval Archaeology in Italy - University of Padova

Lancaster Castle and Northern English History: The View from the Stronghold - Lancaster University

Magic in the Middle Ages - University of Barcelona

Old Norse Mythology in the Sources - University of Colorado Bolder

Preserving Norwegian Stave Churches - Norwegian University of Science and Technology

The Book of Kells: Exploring an Irish Medieval Masterpiece - Trinity College Dublin

The Cosmopolitan Medival Arabic World - University of Leiden

Renaissance ⚜️🃏

Black Tudors: The Untold Story

European Empires: An Introduction, 1400–1522 - University of Newcastle

The Mediterranean, a Space of Exchange (from Renaissance to Enlightenment) - University of Barcelona

The Life and Afterlife of Mary Queen of Scots - University of Glasgow

The Tudors - University of Roehampton London

The Americas 🪶🦙🛖

History of Slavery in the British Caribbean - University of Glasgow

Indigeneity as a Global Concept - University of Newcastle

Indigenous Canada - University of Alberta

Indigenous Religions & Ecology - Yale

Asia 🏯🛕

Contemporary India - University of Melbourne

Introduction to Korean Philosophy - Sung Kyun Kwan University

Japanese Culture Through Rare Books - University of Keio

Sino-Japanese Interactions Through Rare Books - University of Keio

The History and Culture of Chinese Silk - University for the Creative Arts

Travelling Books: History in Europe and Japan - University of Keio

Other

A Global History of Sex and Gender: Bodies and Power in the Modern World - University of Glasgow

A History of Royal Fashion - University of Glasgow

Anarchy in the UK: A History of Punk from 1976-78 - University of Reading

Biodiversity, Guardianship, and the Natural History of New Zealand: A Museum Perspective - Te Papa

Empire: the Controversies of British Imperialism - University of Exeter

Great South Land: Introducing Australian History - University of Newcastle

Indigeneity as a Global Concept - University of Newcastle

New Zealand History, Culture and Conflict: A Museum Perspective - Te Papa

Organising an Empire: The Assyrian Way - LMU Munich

Plagues, Witches, and War: The Worlds of Historical Fiction - University of Virginia

Russian History: from Lenin to Putin - University of California Santa Cruz

Linguistics 🗣️

Introduction to Comparative Indo-European Linguistics - University of Leiden - Coursera version

Miracles of Human Language: An Introduction to Linguistics - University of Leiden

Archeology 💀

Archeoastronomy - University of Milan

Archaeology and the Battle of Dunbar 1650 - Durham University

Archaeology: from Dig to Lab and Beyond - University of Reading

Archeology: Recovering the Humankind's Past and Saving the Universal Heritage - Sapienza University of Rome

Change of Era: The Origins of Christian Culture through the Lens of Archaeology - University of Padova

Endangered Archaeology: Using Remote Sensing to Protect Cultural Heritage - Universities of Durham, Leicester & Oxford

Enlightening the Dark Ages: Early Medieval Archaeology in Italy - University of Padova

Exploring Stone Age Archaeology: The Mysteries of Star Carr - University of York

Forensic Archaeology and Anthropology - Durham University

Roman Art and Archeology - University of Arizona

The Changing Landscape of Ancient Rome. Archeology and History of Palatine Hill - Sapienza University of Rome

[visenyasdragon]

Sea Dragon Queen. Chapter II

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, though they do not interact in this particular chapter

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: An AU where Targaryens have braincells. Alicent visits Viserys in the evening even though his betrothal to Laena Velaryon had already been announced.

Taglist: @arcielee @vhagarswar

Read on Ao3

Alicent I

“Are you going to see the king tonight?”, her father asked one chilly early spring evening, as they were having supper in their dining room in the Tower of the Hand. “I had several new gowns made for you, in the fashion of our late Queen Aemma. They should be already laid out for you in your bedchamber. It seems your mother’s old clothes aren’t quite doing the trick.”

A gust of wind howled beyond the closed stained glass windows. The beeswax candles in their wall sconces swayed in unison. Alicent knew perfectly well it was not really a question.

“And what kind of trick would that be, father?” asked Alicent quietly, before she could stop herself. She’d known since before she could remember that it was never a good idea to contradict Ser Otto. It was not through pure luck that he ascended to the office of Handship, after all. Even her own mother of blessed memory, the Lady Elinor Cuy, shrinked from challenging him too often. But Alicent felt herself growing bolder as of late. All the realm, from the Wall to the Dornish Marches, knew of their monarch’s solemn betrothal to Laena Velaryon, and such promises were not lightly broken, not even by the blood of the dragon. She felt almost safe. She took a larger sip of her watered Oldtown red to give herself courage.

“You know very well, Alicent. You are the most beautiful girl at court after the Princess. I heard Lord Rowan say so himself not three days since. Surely with a little effort you can enchant an old man enough to make him forget about a slight girl of twelve” he said, while cutting up his venison roast with a knife, his eyes not meeting her.

Alicent’s cheeks reddened. This went directly against everything she’d been taught by her mother, her septas, every woman of her rank and station she’s ever met. She had no more idea of seduction than of the inner politics of the Empire of Leng. Feeling equipped only to soothe his grief and to offer him friendship, that was the course she’d taken. Alicent knew the Kingsguard and the servants were already talking, and she dreaded the day when the word of her half-secret rendezvous reached Rhaenyra. Or maybe it already had, and she was only waiting for the right occasion to confront her about it?

“I have no knowledge of such tricks” countered Alicent sullenly, her eyes anchored on the polished brass plate in front of her. She nibbled on her roasted vegetables, her stomach in a painful knot.

“Then perhaps you might be persuaded to pay a visit to your uncle Lord Hobart in Oldtown” he said, locking her gaze with his watery grey eyes. “It has been so long since they’ve seen their beloved niece. In the last letter my brother sent me, he mentioned that one of his bannermen is looking for a wife” her father chastised with a smug expression she knew very well.

“Father, I…”, Alicent interrupted weakly.

“Do not interrupt me when I’m speaking, Alicent!” Ser Otto boomed with an angry voice. “Like I said, Ser Waymar Mullendore, a younger brother of the Lord of Uplands, is looking for a fertile, young consort, having no sons of his own. And besides, House Hightower ought to maintain good relationships with its vassal houses, would you not say so, Alicent? Ser Waymar is but three-and-fifty and is currently serving as one of the senior officers of the City Watch of Oldtown. He stands to inherit exactly nothing, but I’m sure my modest, obedient daughter will not mind a spartan life in the barracks, having been born to a second son and ill-equipped to manage a castle herself.  You will never see Princess Rhaenyra again. What say you to such a match, my daughter?” His teeth caught in the candlelight as he smiled at her.

Alicent felt lightheaded. Her eyes pierced, her cheeks white-hot, and her throat was dry, so she quickly doused it in her red wine. She found herself wishing it was sweet Arbor strongwine, not the tart, watered variety of her hometown. With a shaking hand, she placed her empty cup back on the table. A pale red winedrop ran down the brass goblet, landing on her bitten fingernail. 

“I’m grateful for all your efforts to secure my future, father.” she said quietly, looking at her white fingers resting on the table. She could barely control the urge to bite them. Instead, she took a bite of her roasted turnip. It tasted bitter on her dry tongue.

“I know you are, sweetling. We all must do our part to ensure our House’s prosperity, fathers and daughters alike. Just like princess Rhaenyra will serve the crown by being the Sea Snake’s ward, I would like you to do your part for your House” he explained calmly, as if he had not shouted at her a moment before. She wondered if the servants had heard. She wished they did. “And trying on a few new dresses is such a small price to pay for all your family does for you, is it not?”

She could only find the strength to nod.

Alicent followed their old servant, Kyra, up the serpentine candlelit staircase to the upper floor above the Hand’s dining room, where Alicent’s solar and bedchamber were located. It was dusk; through the Tower’s tall windows she could see the empty training yard and the setting sky. The sunset had painted the thousand clay tile roofs of the capital a variety of shades of amethyst, lavender and lilac. 

“Make haste, my lady, the seamstress is waiting” Kyra called in a kindly voice from ahead of her. “She is a busy woman, mark my words, m’lady. One o’ the best tailors in King’s Landing she is, everyone in the keep says so. Made gowns for good queen Aemma, she did. Don’t say she didn't. No, we mustn't keep her waiting, m’lady” she chattered. If it were anyone other than Kyra, Alicent would be well within her rights to disparage her for addressing a highborn lady of the court in such a manner, and a daughter of the Hand himself at that. But Kyra was Oldtown-born like herself, and it did Alicent good to hear the familiar, lilting accent so far home. She’d been in Ser Otto’s employ since Alicent could barely walk, long before they ever saw King’s Landing. And besides, Alicent was so fraught in spirit, she could hardly find the will to berate her if she wanted to.

“I would never dream of claiming otherwise” Alicent said with a weak smile as she climbed the last steps. Kyra opened the heavy oaken doors to her solar and revealed a short, grey-haired woman of about fifty or sixty arranging an array of colorful silk and velvet dresses on her sofa in front of the hearth. 

“Good evening, goodwife” Alicent said, a polite greeting to lowborn women taught to her long ago by her septa, one she rarely had occasion to use. The old Kyra collected the dirty linens and wine cups from her bedchamber and quietly disappeared with a smiling nod towards Alicent. “I hope you’ve not been waiting long?”

“Only a few moments, m'lady,” the woman said. Alicent could take a closer look at her now that she stepped closer to the fire. The famed seamstress was small of frame, with veiny hands that spoke of a life of hard toil. A pair of Myrish lenses rested on her aquiline nose. She was dressed in faded Essosi silks and frayed wools embroidered in the Vale style, clearly odds and ends from her business. “M’lord Hand said you must be ready after your supper today, and dressed like our gracious late queen. I asked the servants in the kitchens downstairs what the court was celebrating tonight, that m’lady Alicent needed new gowns at a few days’ notice, but they could tell me nothing,” she blathered on while fastening the stays of a modest blue gown with a high neckline around her slender waist. Thank the Maiden the poor woman does not know the occasion, or she’d be ashamed to speak to me, Alicent thought.

“Just a small evening supper, nothing that the servants could know about”, she lied quickly. Alicent knew very well that there was little the servants did not know about.  

“Her ladyship will forgive me, for the embroidery is so little to speak of, but the Hand had given me so little time! Half my apprentices worked on m’lady’s gowns alone for half a fortnight.  If it pleases lady Alicent, I might take all but the one m’lady chooses for tonight back to the shop and finish them” she assured as she spread the wide skirts of her gown so she could examine them. “But the fabric, m’lady! I had my best apprentice Sigrin go to Spicetown to buy it herself. She told me that a Velaryon ship brought it directly from Qarth not a fortnight since. The princess Rhaenys herself wears no better raiments'', the seamstress guaranteed as she looked over the garment to confirm it fit. Sigrid’s reassurances were likely true, or close enough; the Hand’s annual salary was very generous, and he was determined to spare no expense to achieve his goal. She looked at herself in the tall mirror. The dark blue silk gleamed in the firelight. The bodice, embroidered with thick silver thread in dancing arabesques, was close-fitting but concealed her collarbones, a fact she observed with gratitude. This evening she would not have a large book to cover her cleavage with.  It was probably the most expensive dress Alicent had ever worn. 

“I will wear this one tonight, thank you” she said calmly, wishing this ordeal to be over. “You can leave the rest here as they are. You are thanked for your service. You may go.” Alicent dreamed of nothing more than to kneel at her praying stool in front of the window, the cool evening breeze on her face, hands clasped around her mother’s old crystal prayer beads. After every evening spent with the king alone behind closed doors, she liked to find solace in an hour of quiet prayer to the Maiden, asking the gods for forgiveness and guidance. The sooner she visits Viserys, the sooner she would be able to soothe her troubled conscience. But the seamstress was aghast. 

“B-but my lady! It needs to be adjusted in a few places,” she took some pins from her belt pouch and installed them near her waist and around the sleeves, where the fabric was in excess. “Let me at least pin you in place so I don’t shame my shop -”

“I will tell every soul in the Red Keep who will listen that your clothing is the best in the realm. Now, please leave so that I may get ready for the festivities.” The festivities of my ruin , she thought bitterly. My ruin or my queenship, though the latter is hardly likely. The seamstress said her goodbyes uneasily, bowed, and left. Alicent put out the candles in the solar with her long extinguisher and quietly closed the bedchamber door behind her, eager not to alert any servants. She sat in front of her looking-glass and began brushing out her curls with her hairbrush. Knowing she must mold herself after Aemma Arryn was obvious, but accomplishing it less so. The late queen had silver tresses of hair straight as a reed, while the gods had seen fit to give Alicent a thick mane of tight brown curls. No amount of combing could straighten them out, but Alicent did her best to shape them into soft waves at least. She took two strands in the front of her face and joined them together at the back with an aquamarine-and-silver clasp shaped like a seven-pointed star, similar to the sapphire one Queen Aemma had liked to wear. Her stomach felt like a pit of vipers, twisted in an aching tangle of heightened nerves.  She took off her small gold necklace and rings she’d been wearing since morning, and adorned her pale digits in several silver ones, the first ones she could distinguish in the weak candlelight. Again she felt an urge to bite her fingers, and again she smothered it. She dabbed a few drops of Highgarden rose perfume on her wrists and neck, and took her leave.

The corridors of the Red Keep were still busy with servants, fetching their masters supper on brass trays. They still wore black aprons or ribbons tied around their arms in mourning of the dead queen her father sought her to replace. She crossed the distance between the Tower of the Hand and the king’s bedchamber in Maegor’s Holdfast in quick, hushed steps. Ser Harrold Westerling as usual held the night watch.

“I would like to see the king,” Alicent said quietly. The Kingsguard gave her a puzzled look and opened the great oak door without saying a word.

“Good evening, Your Grace”, she addressed King Viserys when the door shut behind her with a loud thud, though she could not yet see him. The scent of marble dust and melting beeswax hung in the air. She took a few steps and saw King Viserys hunched in a chair at the far end of the Old Valyria model, chiseling away bits of white marble, his back facing the open window behind him, his moon-white hair disheveled by the wind. “I see you’ve been working hard”, she said softly. 

“As hard as any King worked on a model of the legacy of his more illustrious ancestors, to be sure”. Viserys put down his chisel while sweeping away white dust from his lap. In the faint candlelight Alicent could see small beads of perspiration shining on his forehead. He was only wearing his linen shift, with silvery tufts of chest hair poking out. Alicent took a heavy wool blanket from the king’s bed, shook it gently free of dust, and settled it atop his shoulders. He smiled weakly in lieu of thanks, and his dark violet eyes met hers for a moment.

“Please do not be so hard on yourself, Your Grace. Everyone in the city knows that every day you strive to do what’s best for the realm.” she said with what she hoped was her best smile. 

“Yes, yes, I’m sure they do,” he said impatiently. “What brings you here, Alicent?” 

“I… I only meant to check on Your Grace, hoping to ease your grief”, she replied, startled. Viserys was rarely this forthright. Usually they merely danced around the subjects that really mattered, talking about Old Valyria, her own family, matters of religion and history, the books they both enjoyed. Often, they shared their evening meals and prayers. Today was different, though. Alicent no longer felt entirely welcome here. She felt a surge of panic rising in her chest.

“No doubt at your lord father’s instigation”, Viserys said quickly, looking out the window. She made an effort to calm herself. She had a ready answer for that, drilled into her long ago by Otto.

“My-my father and I only wish to attend to your wellbeing, my king. The Lord Hand, so latterly widowed,  is conscious of the great sorrow the queen’s passing caused you, Your Grace. My only desire is to ease my sovereign’s pain”, she recited, remembering her father’s words. Hearken back to the death of Queen Aemma and watch him shrivel inside with pain, my daughter, he had said once. Tend to his sorrow and his grief. Make him want to seek comfort, and then be the first one to provide it. There you will find an opening for us. This evening Alicent found her father’s lessons of little merit.

“That is very generous indeed of Ser Otto. Here I am, newly betrothed, the wedding preparations ongoing, and my Hand worries still about my mental state”, he said in a sarcastic tone that he only used when he was angry. Alicent felt “Why are you here, Alicent? Do you wish to be here of your own will?” he said, boring his deep violet eyes into her. 

“Your Grace, I…”

“Tell me the truth, child. It is a great sin to lie to your king.”

Alicent felt hot tears slowly fall down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away. It was the first time Viserys called her a child.

“He-he said…” she struggled to form words, as a ball of panic and fear formed in her throat.

“What did he say?” Viserys said impatiently. “Alicent, please know that it is with your lord father that has trespassed on my goodwill, not you. I do not reproach you . By the gods, a blind man could see that you are naught but an obedient daughter. Now, what did he tell you to do?”

Alicent took a deep, shaky breath to steady herself. She anxiously wiped her palms on the skirt of her dress. There is my opening, she thought.

“He said that if I do not visit Your Grace in the evenings… he had this gown made for me for the occasion, from the late queen’s own dressmaker… He said that if I do not obey him, I’d be sent to Oldtown and I’d never see Rhaenyra again…that I’d have to marry an old squire and… and… “ Alicent choked on her words, hot tears flowing freely down her face. Her whole body was shaking with emotion. While she covered her eyes with her palms to steady the tears, she felt the plump, long arms of Viserys form a circle around her neck. To her astonishment, he pressed her wet face to his portly chest in a gesture of comfort. This was not an act Ser Otto often indulged in. Gradually her breath slowed to a normal pace, the stream of tears stopped. She freed herself from Viserys’ embrace and faced him. She could barely make out his face in the darkness, but somehow she knew him to be furious. 

“Do not worry, child. You will not be forced to leave the capital anytime soon. I am grateful for the friendship you have offered me so far and ask for no more of it.” He took both her hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze. “In return, I promise you and Rhaenyra will not be separated. I know how much she values your friendship. Only trust in me, and make no mention of this to your father. I will deal with him. Do you understand?”

“I do”, Alicent said quietly. Trusting men never came easy to her, but she had no other choice.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

NEXT WEEKEND (June 7–9), I'm in AMHERST, NEW YORK to keynote the 25th Annual Media Ecology Association Convention and accept the Neil Postman Award for Career Achievement in Public Intellectual Activity.

#15yrsago D&D-style map of C++ https://alenacpp.blogspot.com/2009/06/c.html

#15yrsago Passive-aggressive umbrella-cops foil Tiananmen reportage https://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/8082604.stm

#15yrsago Heartbroken cereal litigant loses suit over non-existence of “Crunchberries” https://www.loweringthebar.net/2009/06/reasonable-consumer-would-know-crunchberries-are-not-real-judge-rules.html

#15yrsago DC’s buried, secret government wires patrolled by rapid-response goon-squad https://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/05/30/AR2009053002114.html

#15yrsago Visualizing how a dirty Congresscritter turned campaign contributions into earmarks https://web.archive.org/web/20090606211116/http://blog.sunlightfoundation.com/2009/06/04/vis-a-visclosky-or-how-i-learned-to-take-campaign-contributions-and-turn-them-into-earmarks/

#15yrsago TOSBack: EFF’s real-time tracker for changes in terms of service on popular Internet sites https://www.eff.org/press/archives/2009/06/03-0

#10yrsago Colbert viewers learned more about super PACs than news-junkies https://www.annenbergpublicpolicycenter.org/stephen-colberts-civics-lesson-or-how-a-tv-humorist-taught-america-about-campaign-finance/

#10yrsago FCC’s website crashes, John Oliver’s army of Cable Company Fuckery trolls blamed https://yro.slashdot.org/story/14/06/03/2259240/fcc-website-hobbled-by-comment-trolls-incited-by-comedian-john-oliver

#10yrsago Secret service developing a sarcasm detector. Oh great. https://web.archive.org/web/20140604004533/https://www.fbo.gov/?s=opportunity&mode=form&id=8aaf9a50dd4558899b0df22abc31d30e&tab=core&_cview=0 #10yrsago Five dumb things that NSA apologists should really stop saying https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2014/06/top-5-claims-defenders-nsa-have-stop-making-remain-credible

#5yrsago Empirical analysis of behavioral advertising finds that surveillance makes ads only 4% more profitable for media companies https://memex.craphound.com/2019/06/04/empirical-analysis-of-behavioral-advertising-finds-that-surveillance-makes-ads-only-4-more-profitable-for-media-companies/

#5yrsago European legal official OKs orders that force Facebook to globally remove insults to politicians like “oaf” and “fascist” (as well as synonyms) https://memex.craphound.com/2019/06/04/european-legal-official-oks-orders-that-force-facebook-to-globally-remove-insults-to-politicians-like-oaf-and-fascist-as-well-as-synonyms/

#5yrsago The New York Privacy Act goes even farther than California’s privacy legislation https://www.wired.com/story/new-york-privacy-act-bolder/

#5yrsago Joe Biden repeatedly claimed to have marched for civil rights. He didn’t. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/03/us/politics/biden-1988-presidential-campaign.html

#5yrsago Why is there so much antitrust energy for Big Tech but not for Big Telco? https://memex.craphound.com/2019/06/04/why-is-there-so-much-antitrust-energy-for-big-tech-but-not-for-big-telco/

#5yrsago Magic for Liars: Sarah Gailey’s debut is a brilliant whodunnit in the vein of The Magicians https://memex.craphound.com/2019/06/04/magic-for-liars-sarah-gaileys-debut-is-a-brilliant-whodunnit-in-the-vein-of-the-magicians/

#1yrago Ayyyyyy Eyeeeee https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/04/ayyyyyy-eyeeeee/

[fluffyydumplings]

Like A Painting - 그림처럼

A/N: I wrote this a year ago.. the reason why there is a korean title attached here as well is because… well… the inspiration behind this poem was actually the saying 그림처럼.. a phrase used often when someone gazes upon something of beauty.. anyways.. anyhow.. happy women’s day.. I hope you enjoy

She refuses to accumulate deep within her a child

You’ll regret it, they start with

What are you without your womb, they end indirectly with

What am I without myself, she thinks

For as she buttons up her skin and rises above their heads

She realises

They’ll never see her as the woman with wings as her reflection speaks

On the ground, in their convoluted minds she’ll always be

But what can a few convulsions and conversations of the what-nots and what-ifs not fix

And even if stagnant on the ground she remains

Standing is a feat that she can always beat herself to

And in that way

She’ll never be below them

For, even if she has to crawl her way back up

She refuses to lay lifeless on the ground

She’s been doing it for quite too long

After a while, you get weary and tired of doing anything

So, imagine not doing anything,

So, imagine being nothing but a pretty caricature on the walls

Imagine

Imagine how paralysing it would be for a human to stay still and play pretend

As a painting

As a picture

As an ideal

Her whole life she was expected to play a role

The altruistic mother who cradles her child to sleep,

The elder sister who stands as still as a mountain for her family to reach the sky

The deligent coworker who gets pushed aside despite building empires with her bare hands

But seasons come and go

And change is good for the heart

Therefore, she refuses to stick to the ground

Therefore, she refuses

No..

Therefore, she clearly will not be sticking to the strange principles that have been injected into her head

It’s all she has known

That was what she thought

But the world is broad

And all she has known is not all that is to know

They say that is how life is supposed to be for people like her

But everyday a tadpole learns how to jump and a caterpillar learns how to fly

For as they say, pain is the mother of success

Change is the mother of survival

Better and bolder

Brighter and Wiser

People grow

People age

People learn

People crawl

People walk

People run

People find ways to fly

They are peasants with high hats pretending to be Confucius

But filial piety is not much of a pity compared to all the bruises on her heart that they cannot see

So she leaps away

Away from the beautiful painting she has been entrapped in

For even with perfect strokes you cannot overlook the mistakes of this stupid ideal that have been glossed over with paint

She stares at the world she has known

She walks away

For all that she has known

Is not all that is to know

For all that she has believed to be true

Is not all that is true

This painting isn’t warm

This painting isn’t cold

Her forehead is warm

Her hands are cold

But..

She’ll recover

[person4924]

new about me

my name is sam !! thats basically all u need to know but theres (a lot) more under the cut!! i also have a strawpage that has some basic info (idrk how it works if im being honest tho)

last updated: august 5

i’m sapphic of some sort and ace

u can use any pronouns but they is usually the best !! (this is my pronouns page)

i’m neurodivergent of some sort (i don’t even know anymore)

a minor (don’t be weird)

my personality type is INFP-T

my theme will change like weekly prob bc i wanna change it with every new huperfxation i have!!

things i like (the things bolder r what i talk about the most)

harry potter (fuck jkr)

marvel

the marauders

boy meets world

it

osemanverse

paper girls

teen wolf

owl house

shameless

glee

stranger things

friends

andi mack

the last of us (i’ve only watched the show tho, but i know most of what happens in the games)

riordanverse

musicals

poetry

reading

cats

animals

fictional characters

music

movies

tv shows

art

writing

women

sitcoms

brooklyn nine nine

new girl

hamilton

grishaverse

stand up comedians

ocean animals (specifically sharks)

community

moths (and just kinda winged bugs in general)

greek mythology

dawsons creek

bojack horseman

halloween

the sky (like stars, the moon, the sunset, etc)

jelly fish

criminal minds

animals

ted lasso

scooby doo (the older movies from the 2000’s ish specifically but all of it too)

everything sucks!

the sun bearer trials

atypical

octonauts

spencer reid

bo burnham

dead boy detectives

will and grace

90’s movies

my fav movies are tick tick boom, my girl, dead poets society, breakfast club, the outsiders, hamilton, stand by me, cmbyn, lady bird, beautiful boy, luca, nimona, (500) days of summer, empire records, etc. i have a lot but this is just the first few i think of

musicals i like are hamilton, tick tick boom and the greatest showman

my fav taylor albums are folklore, evermore, reputation, 1989, ttpd and speak now but i love all of them really (please please ask me abt them omg)

my current hyper fixation is the marauders (more of a life-long obsession atp) and solangelo

i’m currently reading nothing !! i just cannot

my fav music people (i’m really just giving a short list of many): conan gray, cavetown, current joys, queen, rainbow kitten surprise, the front bottoms, harry styles, noah kahan, taylor swift, phoebe bridgers, the fray, coldplay, olivia rodrigo, billie eilish, boygenius, gracie abrams, sufjan stevens, maya hawke, the smiths, lucy dacus, julien baker, the smiths, sleeping at last, mitski, bo burnham, chappell roan, lorde, the revivalists, hozier, the head and the heart, mumford and sons, the revivalists, adrianne lender

i mostly post about whatever hyperfixation and/or character/person/ship has overtaken my brain, music and analysis things

i appreciate tone tags and i try to use them as much as possible

i’m always looking to talk to more people and i’m always bored (don’t be weird istg)

my fav books are any alice oseman book, the outsiders, the perks of being a wallflower, i fell in love with hope

child of athena (i think, idk how to actually figure it out)

i’m probably a reggie kin?? but it also changes with my varying mental state so i just say i’m marauders soup

biggest pandalily shipper you’ll find

i love love love making character analysis’ or song or movie or tv show or books or ships or whatever

i also write sometimes!! (i suck ass)

and i’m person4924 on ao3 but i can’t figure out how to link it

this is my spotify (my character playlists are my pride and joy and reason for living. i also have the best music taste you will ever encounter.)

this is my discord

this is my airbuds idk if anyone actually uses it but i thought it’d be fun to share music with mooties

please please please send me asks i have no hobbies and one friend and im always bored please please please (im on my hands and knees begging please please please (@iluvmultipleppl needs it to be known im only on my knees for them /j (they called me a whore and told me to fix it 😔)))

i have a tagging system!! idk how much ill remember to use it but yeah!! (its also new so only my new posts will have them) #sam shut the fuck up -> any original posts that don’t fit in any of the other tags #asks!!! -> asks #crazy? i was crazy once -> just any kinda longer fandom rants that i think are important sam sings :O -> lyric/music rants!!