#green compassionate commanders

[stormsthatrage]

Tsuna is kind. Tsuna is compassionate. Tsuna, unlike many bosses, does not see himself as more than simply because of his station.

The only people who are capable of bringing out the entitled, spoiled, possessive Mafia Prince - the tiny piece of Tsuna's heart that is a stereotypically behaved Vongolian Sky - are his closest family. And even then, they can only manage it in very specific circumstances.

Allow me to clarify:

Imagine Tsuna, in a café filled with rubble and smoke, looking down at Hayato's fallen form. He stares at the blood seeping out from Hayato's chest - the chest that was torn open when Hayato jumped in front of a bullet meant for Tsuna.

(The assassin's corpse is cooling on the other side of the room, dead too late at the edge of Takeshi's blade.)

Tsuna keeps his eyes locked on Hayato. Hayato, who lies limp and motionless, no matter how much sun flame Ryouhei pumps in to him.

It feels like a dream. It feels fake. He feels detached from it all, like he's watching the world from far above and emotions can only reach him after traveling through a mile of cotton.

"Move," he tells his sun, his dying will flaring in the midst of his strange numbness.

His sun yanks his hands back, as instantaneously as if he were following a reflex instead of words.

Tsuna surveys the scene for another second, still through that mile of cotton, and then decides, "No. No, I refuse."

And, after all, does he not have a right to? He, the holder of the Vongola Sky Ring, the Guard of the Vertical Axis, the Sky of Skies. Is it not his birthright to seize hold of, to command, the threads of time?

He reaches out, burning, and undoes it.

An orange glow erupts around the two of them - his Hayato, and the assassin.

And then there is the assassin, alive again, aiming at a spot Tsuna is no longer at.

And there is Hayato, alive again, throwing himself to protect where Tsuna once stood.

Tsuna already has an arm raised, and sends a blast of power at the assassin. The assassin crumples. And then Tsuna is turning around, spinning towards Hayato, and he feels, within him, a hot, violent rage swell up. How dare he. How dare he.

He stalks over to his Right Hand, hands shaking with anger, and he spits, "You."

His Right Hand looks at him, all wide-eyed and taken off guard. As if he's not a fucking thief.

Tsuna snarls up at him, right up in his space, "Sit."

His Right Hand's knees fold. He just barely manages to catch himself against the table directly behind him, and it's not so much sitting as propping himself up, but Tsuna doesn't fucking care.

Tsuna's fists clench, and he stares directly into those green, green eyes. "You," he seethes, "took an oath, Gokudera Hayato." He feels himself burning, dying will an inferno on his skin. "You swore yourself to me, yes? Your life is mine. You do not have the right to take it from me."

His Right Hand, his storm, his Hayato, says nothing, eyes wide and face pale and lips parted ever so slightly in shock.

Tsuna feels incandescent with rage. "You dare-"

And then he finds himself losing the words, swaying in place as exhaustion slams down across him.

The last thing he feels is Hayato's arms coming up around him, warm and alive and oh so gentle, and the last thing he hears is Takeshi, saying - absolutely delighted, Tsuna knows that tone - "Oh, he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up."

And then darkness.

[pearl-tarotist]

PAC: Your green flags ೃ⁀➷ In this PAC, related to self, I will look into your most positive (green) aspects: generally and in love.

PILE 1: Green flags:

-Generally:

You are confident and lucky enough to not fear the unpredictable and predictable changes in our lives. You are someone with a positive mindset that does not get easily disappointed with alterations.

You are able to learn easily from everything: mistakes, lessons, karma debts… You understand that everything is an opportunity to learn, to close cycles and to improve yourself and your life.

Furthermore, you are not scared to alter your life if it is for the best. Some people usually get trapped in the past, routine,and old relationships that are dead. You are not like those, you are not scared to be proactive and erase the people, actions or situations that could disappoint you.

Wheel of Fortune/ 5 of Shells.

-In love ❤️

In contra-position to your lightly approach to life and about letting every event pass trough you, when you are in love you are methodical. When in love, you want the best for your partner, and you will take a time-out before acting in love, you will plan every date and detail. You will think about who you want to go out with and about what you feel for your partner.

You will want deep conversations and you will commit to them, easily taking responsibility on your shoulders for the common good. You will create new opportunities for both of you, to be able to achieve what you want.

There's not a sense of passiveness in the way that there's in your general life. You allow yourself to learn the lessons of the events that the cycle of life throws at you but you won't accept it in your love life.

In your love life, you are in a position of power and command.

2 of Roses and The Magician

Tip Me / More Pacs

PILE 2: Green flags:

-Generally:

You have a really great approach to work and love/rest. One of your general green flags is that you are not someone that goes overboard with the things that happen in your life.

You are able to keep a 50/50 effort on things, what at long-term, is the cleverest thing to do.

On the best sense, you do also not involve yourself directly with things…you rise over pettiness, blame and guilt. You can separate yourself from your feelings and own perspective to gain a clear view of every situation. You are fair and just.

You are able to see the good and the bad, to be responsible but still keep some time for love and relationships, to be passionate but understand that every situation has clear limits.

You allow yourself to be free without hurting anybody. It's a beautiful sign to see.

Song: "Like we just met" by NCT DREAM.

3 of Gems, Judgement and Ace of Roses

-In love ❤️:

You are someone strong and compassionate. You are always open to understatement and to speak, you are emphatic and able to sacrifice some of your security for the adventure that love is.

You do sacrifices for the people you love even when it could be scary and hurtful, you are strong enough to keep the pressure of what being a partner to someone is.

I do believe that you do also have the talent to calm your partner with your words and attitude, you can calm their insecurities and fears. They do not have to doubt your love when you, so passionately and strongly, show it to them.

Strength and The Moon

Tip Me / More Pacs

PILE 3: Green flags:

-Generally:

You are someone mature and realistic.  You are a good leader and you always treat everybody that helps you with respect and gratitude. People can trust you and be confident with the projects you are proposing as they will be well-put and efficient.

You are natural, sensible, pragmatic and committed. It feels like earth energy with a bit of water. You are open to interact with everybody, no matter their status or origins.

You do not easily obsess with things, and if you do, is realistic and you create a plan to achieve it long-term.

-In love ❤️

You are the most natural lover. Your own attitude and personality make your habits perfect for the place of a lover. You do naturally take care of people, and I think you do the perfect amount of physical touch…it feels super reassuring to your partner.

Your best green flag is that your love feels natural and not forced, as if you were the final piece of a puzzle. It's beautiful and it makes your partner feels as if they were in the right place.

Your partner will always know that you love them, that's your biggest green flag. You will always find a way to show it, or you are so transparent with your emotions that they just know.

9 of Roses, 6 of Shells, Ace of shells.

Tip Me / More Pacs

[whensilencespeaks]

Hello Everyone! My name is Elizabeth, or just Liz for short.

In When Silence Speaks, you'll be taking on the role of an MC that isn't part of the human world but wishes to explore it. Sound familiar? This IF is a mixture of themes from The Little Mermaid with the twist of having the classic soulmate trope etched within-- the first words your soulmate says to you is tattooed onto your body.

The only catch? You've traded in your voice to be able to walk on land, but four distinct individuals have their greetings tattooed onto your skin... Will you have theirs?

🔱 Features 🔱

You can play as a mermaid, merman, or merperson. Choose your sexuality, appearance, facets of your personality, an oceanic friend, and your own special reason for wishing to go to the surface world. This story will be filled with a mixture of sweet moments, angsty dramatic ones, potentially steamy ones, as well as many more! Spend time with your potential soulmate while discovering that your deal wasn't as you once believed it to be.

The game, as one may expect, is heavily focused on relationships and romance. However, you'll be able to decide if your soulmate is a romantic one or more of a platonic one-- of course, you'll also be able to befriend anyone else you choose to! All four of the ROs are gender-selectable (male or female)!

🔱 The Romantic Options 🔱

Miran/Mira -- "The Heir"

The heir to the seaside nation of Semprya. An individual with a gentle smile and compassionate nature, with a deep fascination and love for the sea-- respecting it as it should be respected. They're slightly feared within the Court, despite their overall soft-spoken demeanor, because of the sharpness of their tongue and the keen nature behind their gaze.

With fair skin, despite the overall sunny climate of Semprya, and ice blue eyes, reminiscent of the frozen oceans of the North, they command respect with their presence alone. They stand at 6'2" with an athletic physique due to their combat training, but they still maintain an air of slender elegance as well.

Hair as golden as the sun's warm rays bring their look together, being softly curly. Miran keeps his hair semi-short, brushing his ears, and Mira keeps hers to the small of her back.

Caspian/Cassia -- "The Captain"

The infamous Captain of the dreaded ship The Leviathan is known across the seven seas. Stories follow in their wake, a living legend to all, and many believe they search the seas to find the soulmate that always seems just out of their grasp. Of course, others think they just enjoy the bloodshed that always seems to follow in their wake.

Years of life on the open ocean have given them a golden-tan complexion, that offsets the piercing green of their eyes. They stand at 5'11" with a muscular physique that still retains a sense of agility-- always being able to move from one place to the other with the greatest of ease.

Their hair is a rich golden brown that's as wavy as the place they call their home. Caspian keeps his hair to his shoulders, while Cassia keeps hers to just beneath her shoulder blades. The only thing keeping the locks in place is the classic hat denoting their position on their ship.

Evan/Eva -- "The Scholar"

The most trusted advisor, despite their young age, to the Crown Heir of the seaside country of Semprya. With a thirst for knowledge, that has pushed all thoughts of soulmates from their head, they see you as another puzzle in a world of infinite ones-- wanting nothing more than to figure you out.

They have a rich dark-skinned complexion, with a warm undertone, that brings out the brilliance of their light hazel eyes-- that look almost gold. Standing at around 5'4", what they lack in height they make up for in presence alone. With a lean body, from years of lugging around heavy tombs and scripture, they can be quite formidable when out of their usual robes.

Their hair is a rich ebony black that falls in gorgeous ringlets. Evan has his to his jawline and Eva's just barely brushes the top of her shoulders.

Alexius/Alessia -- "The Guard"

With a surly attitude, that only softens for specific people, they don't make it a secret that they don't believe in soulmates, that they don't wish to find their own-- not after what they've seen. A deeply protective nature is paramount to who they are, who they have always been, and it's only grown while in their service to the royal family.

Tanned skin brings out the silver quality of their hardened gray gaze. Standing at around 6'7", they're quite the imposing figure and don't try to be anything else. With a muscular physique, that's built for strength, they're normally seen within their armor-- you never know what could be coming after all.

Auburn hair brings out the cool undertone of their skin. Alexius keeps his hair short and Alessia keeps her to just past her shoulders, but she always has it in either a simple plait or a low ponytail.

🔱 Links 🔱

DEMO (TBA)

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 39)

Tw: blood n violence, queerphobia

PLS IGNORE IF IT SUCKS I WROTE IT AT 2:45AM AND I TRIED RESEARCHINF SO MCUH OF THE SYSTEM

Part 40

You found yourself becoming clingier to Yves. Frequently asking him to cuddle with you in your hospital bed without shame. He noticed it too, it's as if you're trying to hide from the world, using him as your shelter with how you're trying to bury yourself deeper into his chest.

He is wearing a black blazer, a white, button-up silk bow blouse, and a long pencil skirt that reaches his ankles today. They're all tailored to fit his form perfectly.

You felt guilty wrinkling it by holding onto him tight, but he assured you that it was fine.

You visibly tensed up when he mentioned that he is heading to court. As expected, you didn't want to know more about it, all you did was nod and then hide under your covers. Yves stayed with you a few more minutes, gently coaxing you out of your cocoon for a last kiss before he leaves to obliterate everyone who wronged you.

"I will be back by four in the afternoon." Said Yves, slipping his feet onto his pointed-toe pumps. They're not as tall as his usual footwear, but it made him intimidating as usual.

You nodded in acknowledgement. Which earned a caress on your cheek.

"I love you, my dearest (name)." He nuzzled his nose onto yours. Yves pecked you on the lips and gave your hand an assuring squeeze.

Yves bid you goodbye and left the room.

You twiddled with your fingers, looking around the room and feeling empty. It's terrifying how you rely on Yves so much to be entertained.

You waited for him like this the entire time, without picking your phone up.

__

Yves left the courtroom annoyed. His heels clicked against the pristine tiled floors, his strides were moderate in size, and he wasn't rushing to go anywhere like the rest of the crowd around him. Yves adjusted the handles of his handbag on his shoulders as he walked off towards the exit.

Evangeline was deemed unfit to stand trial, she was uncooperative and seemingly could not grasp what was happening. She couldn't even talk to her defense attorney without uttering deranged statements about owning you and being her one true love. The hearing was adjourned because she is currently being evaluated by psychiatrists.

Likewise with Montgomery's trial, he was given more time to seek legal advice.

Yves coolly walked past a miserable Mr. Jones. Too immersed in his devastation and sobs to realize who passed him. His emerald eyes looked downwards, contemplating something as his steps slowed down to a stop.

Mr. Jones felt a presence next to him, lifting his head up, the man came face to face with Yves. He jolted in shock, feeling the menacing aura permeating through the air.

"S-sir Yves! I-"

"This must have been a painful time for you as a father."

Yves's compassionate words rendered Mr Jones speechless.

Yves's green eyes pierced holes through his being, there was a twinge of pity and sympathy for him. Mr. Jones broke down sobbing in front of his ex-client.

"I-I didn't know Evangeline was..." He gasped for breath. "I'm sorry, Sir Yves. I-I should have paid more attention and..." He couldn't finish his sentence before breaking down into remorseful tears.

Yves watched him, never once moving an inch. His eyes never strayed away from his form.

"P-please, Sir Yves. Please, find deep in your heart to forgive Evangeline and- and us." He begged, kneeling down before him. "We are sorry..."

Yves merely watched the pitiable display.

"P-please, forgive us-"

"Jones."

His head shot up at the stern mention of his name.

"Stand up." He commanded Mr. Jones. He did so hastily, not wanting to be more of an inconvenience to Yves.

"Maintain decorum. You are in a courthouse." Glowered Yves.

Mr. Jones nodded and sniffled, trying to contain his erratic breaths.

There were a few beats of silence before Yves spoke again.

"Evangeline has done what she has done. Neither you nor I could change the past."

Mr. Jones's eyes were hopeful, relieved even that Yves might be forgiving towards his daughter and his family.

"But..." He crossed his arms and looked away momentarily.

"You and your daughter must face the consequences. So shall my dear (name) and I." He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to lose his composure at the thought of Mr. Jones's failure to heed his early warnings. His fingernails dug into his arm, Yves wanted to hiss and spit the vilest curses at him, he wanted to see him bleed as much as he wanted to see your assailant do.

He wanted to burn the whole world down but must act carefully. Yves wanted to play smart and deliver the worst possible blow to everyone. He must let Mr. Jones think that Yves has cooled down enough not to wish death upon his family.

Yves stayed for a few more seconds, observing the other man uncomfortably fidgeting in place.

"Goodbye, Jones."

He walked off. Leaving Mr. Jones to reflect on Yves's words. They're short, simple, and very obvious, but it is devastating to his psyche.

Yves kept a straight, blank face as Mr. Jones started to sob again.

He weaved through the people in the halls, passing through security and exiting the establishment.

His height and beauty earned him stares, mostly lust from men and envy from women- since he isn't speaking, one will assume that he is an alluring woman. There were some out of shock and awe, but he paid no mind. Yves is used to this alienating attention and harsh assumptions from literal strangers, he hates it, but he hates suppressing who he is even more.

Finally, he made it into his car. It's a habit of his to lock his doors immediately after entering, especially with the crime rate going up. But he's been doing this ever since he got his own ride.

The first thing he did was to monitor you through his cameras. He smiled and relaxed at the sight of you napping away, but tensed back up when he realized that this isn't normal; you're sleeping much more than you should. No Internet activity since he left either.

Yves checked his messages and phone logs to find that you didn't attempt to contact him.

Your vitals are all fine, and the conditions in your room aren't subconsciously draining the life out of you.

You're clutching tightly onto the bracelet he got you from France.

He pouted and felt a tug at his heartstrings as Yves deduced that you were starting to yearn for him.

He prepared himself to drive away, deciding to skip his usual step of checking and fixing himself in front of the mirror. Yves wanted to get back to you as soon as possible, he just needed to finish one last errand for the day.

-

Montgomery was escorted into the visiting room by two officers, seemingly excited and happy to meet his visitor. Wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and having his hair unkempt.

But his wide grin was wiped away immediately by the sight of Yves sitting on the other side of the booth.

Yves watched Montgomery argue with his handlers, they appear confused as to why he is suddenly hostile and disagreeing because Yves is in his approved list of visitors. This sudden shift of behavior does not faze him, the androgynous man simply drummed his fingers against the counter while propping his head up on one elbow.

In the end, Montgomery begrudgingly agreed to speak to Yves after one of the guards mentioned something to him. He scowled through the screen, sitting down and picking up the intercom phone. Yves did the same and placed it to his ear.

"How are they doing?" Was the first thing Montgomery asked despite the visible hatred for the darked haired male in his brown eyes. His concern for you outweighs everything else.

This is something Yves respected, even if he is a pest, his rival and a menace to you without his intervention. Montgomery's fragile heart is filled with care and love for you, the type that would insure your safety and happiness no matter how sleazy, delusional and disgusting he may appear. He knows Montgomery means well, he just... has difficulty expressing it without encroaching into Yves's territory.

"Hey, you queer freak. Snap out of it, I'm talking to you, how is (name)?" Yves's eyes flitted upwards to meet Montgomery's tired ones. He's visibly antsy, the guards are putting most of their focus on him.

"They're stable." Yves coldly replied, his face maintaining an unreadable expression.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Snarled Montgomery, his heavily bandaged knuckles and fingers tightening around the phone.

"(Name) is not thinking about it anymore." He could see the shoulders on the inmate sag in relief. His face twisted in grief and anguish as he looked away from an unmoving Yves.

It's such a shame that Yves isn't willing to share. It's such a shame that Montgomery sees you as his romantic partner. Your boyfriend would have gladly keep him around as another layer of protection in your life if he was more of a platonic figure to you. That position has yet to be filled, seeing that you have no friends or family you could rely on in times of emergency.

"I know your corrupt ass did something to my visitor list. What I don't know, is why the fuck are you here?" Montgomery's blood boiled at the mere sight of Yves.

"Thank you, Yeller."

He looked at Yves incredulously. But before he could speak, the androgyne beat him to it.

"You took care of (name) in my absence. I appreciate that very much." Yves uncrossed his legs, and rested them together. He could give him pointers on how to improve his approach towards you, but what is he going to use it for? As long as Montgomery sees himself as your boyfriend, Yves is not letting him go anywhere near you.

"That's my fucking spouse, of course I'll take care of them. What the hell are you- what the hell are you talking about?" Confused and offended, Montgomery stared at him with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. He will not listen to reason.

There was few seconds of silence between the obsessive men. Montgomery just thinks Yves is an abomination of god: rich, corrupt and a crossdresser. Whereas Yves simply sees parts of himself in the former. He does not like what he saw.

"I have a proposition for you." Yves rested his hand on the counter, the other one is still holding onto the phone.

"Whatever it's gonna be, not interested-"

"I represent you in court, and you will leave the courtroom as a free man."

There was a pregnant pause between them. Montgomery tried to read Yves's face through the mildly dirty glass, but to no avail.

"And? What's the catch?" He knows the implication behind those optimistic words, he has strings to pull. But why do such a nice gesture for him?

"I want you to leave this city." Montgomery scoffed.

"Yeah right-"

His eyes bulged out of his sockets when Yves pressed a piece of paper against the glass window. It's a legitimate cheque with Yves's bank account number and signature, addressed to Montgomery, valued at $600,000. He looked around, the guards aren't paying attention to what was happening in his booth.

"What...?" Montgomery mumbled, rereading the words over and over again. He can only dream of owning a bank account that is in the six digits, he doesn't think that his massive family farm managed to earn that much net profit in five years. But then again, he wasn't good at math in the first place.

"I will refer you to an accounting firm to manage your finances. Your criminal history will be fully redacted; Employers would have no issue hiring you, should you return to the workforce." Yves explained nonchalantly.

"No. Fuck you, I'm not leaving my (name) behind. You're doing this to separate me and my soulmate. Get your blood money outta my sight." Spat Montgomery, his fist pressing against the pane. He wanted to punch the emotionless look off Yves's face.

"Yeller. You're charged with seven counts of aggravated battery. Eight, including mine. Two counts of attempted murder. Not to mention, one count of trespassing, a count for malicious damage of property, a count of resisting arrest and three counts of assault towards a police officer." He listed off his offences off the top of his head.

Montgomery went silent.

"You and I know that there is more than enough evidence for the judge to deliver the maximum penalty whether you plead guilty or not."

The inmate looked away from him- actually averting his gaze away from his reflection, ashamed at what he has become. A violent criminal.

Yves uses this sense of inferiority to his advantage.

"You're not a bad person, Yeller. You did what you did to punish those who stood by and let it happen." Yves genuinely believed this, especially since he was the one who impersonated you, ranting to him what your Housemates had done- or in this case, didn't do.

Yves read the files and watched the footage from the security camera your 'landlord' set up. He knew Montgomery was capable of causing chaos and devastation in moments of blind rage. Although he thinks his swings and lightning-speed reflexes were impressive, it was still sloppy and too erratic. Which was perfect, if Montgomery was anymore precise, it would throw off Yves's plans.

He sent all seven of them to the hospital, two of them are yet to be awakened from their coma. The house is desolate, except for blood stains, splintered wood, ceramic shards and broken glass fragments, completely unfit to be rented out.

It is an admirable trait, really. His willingness to go so far for the one he loves. Montgomery crashed his car, his lifeline, the thing that contained all his material possessions and housed him for years, through the front door. All because he heard 'you' crying over the phone.

"If only those fuckers went down and helped (name)..." He mumbled, tears building up in his eyes. Montgomery quickly blinked them away though before looking back at Yves, who is now holding a somber expression.

Again, Yves grieved over the fact that Montgomery had to compete with him. It would have been wonderful if he stayed in his lane, the two men could have worked together harmoniously to ensure your well-being. Such a waste of devotion from Montgomery, Yves's heart aches at the fact that the inmate simply couldn't translate all that fondness into fatherly or brotherly love. He knows you badly needed that.

There was a staring contest being held between them. It looks like Montgomery has nothing else to say, it was time for Yves to end the conversation as he needs to head back to accompany you.

"You will stand trial in six weeks. I will contact you again, to see if you have made a decision by then."

Either he refuses and gets locked up for at least two decades, or he accepts and uses the money to attempt to steal you away from Yves and inevitably fail. He's not very smart, but it's the intent that matters.

Yves is doing this because Montgomery was treating you well despite making you extremely uncomfortable at times. It's his way of showing gratitude.

Montgomery remained silent but seething.

"I trust that you will make the right choice. Do you have any questions for me before I leave?" Yves put his cheque away.

The brunette balled his fists and trembled a bit.

The dark haired man fully expecting him to call Yves a derogatory slur when he opened his mouth.

"...Take care of (name), please." No insults, only a weak, wavering voice full of vulnerability. Yves felt his eyebrow twitch in surprise as he digested what he said.

"I will." Yves replied, his monotone betraying him and expressing a hint of amazement and astonishment.

Montgomery slammed the wired device onto its holder before standing up. He was promptly escorted by the guards back through a set of heavy doors. He never once looked back.

Yves placed the phone back in its original place before getting up from the stiff stool.

Much of his data is now outdated.

[villainousif]

Villainous

This is Rated 16+, please be aware of this before continuing

This game will contain

Blood and violence, death, manipulation, child abuse, trauma, vulgar language and implicit sexual content, suggestive mature content

Fate can be great and bad. Born into a cruel and unfair world, life was never great nor did it get better, always bringing you into a downward spiral. Death was at your door, and it was time for judgement.

Yet judgement was never casted for you lived another day but how far can you run before it consumes you whole and kills you right where you stand? How long before you pay the ultimate price for your crimes? Your fate is sealed.

SYNOPSIS

Cursed is what you've heard since you were a small child abandoned in a cruel world. What could you do but survive hopeless? The world laughed at you and threw things at you, but you were saved by mother she showed you love. All you have to do now is listen to your mother; after all, She is the only one who can wash away your sins.

DEMO FEATURES

Play a cursed MC and future villain with uncontrollable powers and an uncontrollable craving for blood.

Customizable MC: name, gender (male, female, non-binary), appearance,

Manipulate and destroy those around you play the victim

Listen to mother

5 Potential Romance Options

Survive

DEMO TBA

Main Cast

King Derek (53)

- King Derek is not present in the lives of Amalia and Amir since he is preoccupied with Kingdom matters and battles.

Mother Cordelia (44)

- The woman who adopted you and nurtured you as her own is kind and compassionate, and she appears to be rather younger for her age.

Teacher Esmerelda (60)

 - The twins’ teacher since childhood She is sweet and humble, yet she is strict and only does what she believes is proper and ideal.

More characters will be added as the story goes on + more information on them

ROs

Princess Amalia [ISFP] (23)

- A carefree and enthusiastic princess, a ray of sunshine 

- Small in height with wavy long platinum blonde hair, bright ocean blue eyes, honey complexion, and a lithe figure with dimples

- Amalia, prince Amir’s twin sister, is reckless and full of energy. She enjoys crowded areas and doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty. She spends most of her time exploring or horseback riding. She is known for her breathtaking beauty and heavenly smile, as well as her unconditional loving attitude.

Prince Amir [INFJ] (23)

- A quiet and calm prince 

- Wavy hip long platinum blonde hair, dark blue eyes, honey complexion, and a tall, mesomorph figure

- Amir, the twin brother of Princess Amalia, is the polar opposite of his sister; he is more cautious and instinctive; he prefers peaceful places and spends much of his time reading or training; and he is known for his intelligence and serene attitude, always appearing to be perfect.

Commander Erica [ENTJ] (25)

- A commander who is open-minded, intuitive, and judgmental.

- Curled medium-length black hair, bright orange eyes, dark brown complexion, inverted triangle physique, with scars all over

- Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army Erica is a nice and laid-back person who enjoys the entertainment and has a sweet spot for cutesy things. She spends much of her time with her army or out touring; she is known for her raw strength, laid-back demeanor, and accomplishments.

Servant Caius [ESFP] (24)

- A charming and flirtatious servant

- Dark brown short curly hair tangled hair, brown eyes, tanned skin, athletic physique, medium height, and a beauty mark under his left eye

- An imperial palace servant Caius is a humorous and charming flirt who enjoys open places and people. He spends the most of his time working or chatting with strangers. He is known for his confidence and playboy tendencies. 

Wizard Wren (20)

- A prideful and arrogant wizard

- Straight long dark red hair, mismatched green and purple eyes, ivory complexion, and a slim frame low in height with an eyepatch on the left eye.

- A wizard of the Empire Wren is direct and ruthless; they prefer tiny spaces and spend the most of their time casting spells or conducting magical matters; they are known for being powerful and arrogant.

[chiptaylorsfirst]

hi! if your requests are open atm and if it's okay, could i ask for a pre-cult kai anderson smut with female reader pegging him for the first time, please? like it's his punishment for something and he consented to it but yet he is quite flustered cuz it's his first time doing something like that, and reader senses it and although she is punishing him she also kind of comforts him a little cuz she feels him being too embarrassed and stuff? thank you, i hope this is okay 👉👈

A/N: Sure thing. My apologies for basically leaving like almost a year. I'm here now though and I'm ready to spoil the fans with some enjoyable writings. I hope this fulfills your request and my requests stay open.

Word Count: 2,314

Pairing: sub!pre-cult!Kai Anderson x soft!dom!fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, slight jealousy, a bit of fluff, slight praise kink, pegging, anal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), aftercare, a bit of degradation, spanking, handjob, color system

Summary: Kai decided to disobey your rules so it calls for a little lesson.

Kai Anderson was probably the best boyfriend that you’d ever had in your entire life. He actually cared for you and loved you. He was genuine, compassionate, funny, and intelligent. It was all the things you could ever ask for and more. However, as you watched him casually flirt with a girl whilst being in the same room with you, you knew he needed to be taught a lesson. 

You had recently introduced him to power play and dynamics in the bedroom. It had been going smoothly so far since you agreed and negotiated on your likes and dislikes. He definitely knew what he was doing as his expression feigned innocence while looking up at you.

He smirked at you before bringing his attention back to the girl he’d decided to entertain for the evening. You had a few classes with her and you recalled seeing her and Winter talk multiple times. She had to be a friend of his sister’s which would explain why she was so comfortable around him, not that it mattered but your mind was doing a thousand things at once as you continued to watch Kai’s every move. 

After a moment, you butted yourself into the conversation, sliding your hand onto Kai’s shoulder as you forced a smile on your lips. “It was wonderful seeing you but we have to leave. I’m starting to feel awful. I think the alcohol might have finally gotten to me,” you lied. 

“But the event wasn’t done yet,” Kai argued. You rolled your eyes before giving him a dead stare and taking his hand into yours. “Baby, let’s go now before I decide to harm a certain someone.” 

The discussion ended and the drive home was a quiet one, the only sound being the gravel under the car and your breaths. As soon as you made it in the house though, all of that silence was interrupted. You eagerly kissed your boyfriend, his arms wrapping around your waist as his back collided with the front door of your humble abode.

Your fingers tangled in his hair while you dominated the kiss and moaned against him. The kiss eventually broke, the two of you panting. “You fucking knew what you were doing, Kai. You’re such a little brat.” He laughed aloud. 

He seemed zoned out, his eyes raking over your form as he took in the sight of you. “Kai.” His eyes suddenly were on yours as you brought him out of his trance.  “Yes?” “You know we haven’t done much as far as punishments and other things. I just want to know that you’re comfortable so I don’t hurt you.” “Baby, I’ll always let you know if I want to stop but for now, my color is green.” With that, you continued and you were later being carried into the bedroom. 

Kai let you drop from his arms, waiting for your every command so he could obey. “Sit tight and strip bare for me. If I see anything on, you may end up without an orgasm at all,” you said plainly. He was immediate in doing as you asked, causing you to smile to yourself as you walked out of the door.

You started to look through different sets of lingerie you had until you came across the perfect one. It was dark blue with golden accents. It contained bits of lace mixed with embroidery and a level of comfort you couldn’t truly receive from other lingerie sets. 

It was by far one of the most luxurious and promiscuous items you ever owned. You checked yourself out in the mirror once you were finished putting it on, the clothing doing the best at showing all of your curves. You then grabbed a few toys and some lube before making your way back to your shared bedroom. Kai was comfortably laying on the sheets, his pale skin fully exposed to you. 

You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling yourself becoming wet at the image before you. “Over my lap, sweetie.” He seemed to like the name, positioning himself over your lap. 

“I’m gonna give you ten lashes and you’re gonna count them and thank me for them, okay? Tell me your color.” His face was flushed and you could tell he was a bit shy but eager to please you. “Green.” You kneaded one of his ass cheeks before hitting it with great force. He let out a small sound of pleasure. “One, thank you.” You continued, watching as his skin turned into a pretty shade of red.

Once you got to the fifth one, you started to jerk him off while spanking him. He squirmed on your lap at the feeling and you scolded him for it. “I know, I know. You need to stay still for me, okay? You’re being so good for me.” 

The moan that you heard from him was sinful to say the least and you definitely noticed the way his cock twitched from the praise. You continued your attack on him, removing your hand from his length as you gave him the hardest slap to his ass. “Ten! Thank you.” You let him off of your lap and watched as he laid down on the bed.

You looked at the toys you’d brought before grabbing a butt plug and giving your boyfriend his next direction. “Get on your stomach for me, ass in the air.” He quickly did so, holding his breath as you approached him. He slightly flinched as he felt your hand on his skin. “I’m gonna need you to calm down and relax, okay? Is your color still green?” “Yes,” he responded, his voice barely above a whisper. You squirted some lube on your fingers, revealing his opening and stretching him out nicely.

“Fuck.” His small groans went unnoticed as you continued. Once you decided he was prepared enough, you lubed up the butt plug and slowly slid it inside of him. “Does it feel okay?” “Yeah, a little weird but good.” You flipped him onto his back and kissed him.

The kiss was soft and sweet at first but as the two of you continued, it turned into something more. You started to straddle him, becoming wetter as you felt his arms wrap around your body. An idea popped in your head and you had already begun doing it before you could even think properly. You shoved him down before positioning your body into a perfect sixty-nine. 

“Give me an orgasm and I may let you cum.” He didn’t miss a beat, pulling the material of your lingerie to the side before tasting your cunt. You moaned, lazily jerking him off before licking up the pre cum that covered his tip. You repeatedly teased him as he ate you out, your back arching in need of a better angle. You decided to finally suck him off, taking every breath you could take as you felt him suck your clit.

Your eyes were teary as you deepthroated him before raising up only to go down again. The sounds of your activities bounced off of the walls and you felt your thighs start to shake as Kai became more feverish in tasting you. You opted to use your hand, too afraid that you’d choke from the pleasure he was giving you. 

You felt your high approaching and you gripped the sheets for dear life, slowly sucking his dick and doing your best to breathe correctly. His hips started to buck upwards and he was twitching in your mouth, making you stop his orgasm completely as you came on his tongue. He laid in defeat as you got off of him. You kissed his cheek apologetically before speaking. “That’s what you get for being a little attention whore, brat.” 

He rolled his eyes at you and you slapped his thigh. “Don’t do that, not unless you wanna get another orgasm taken away. Do you want that, hmm?” “No.” He shook his head as he said the word, making your heart warm at how cute he looked. 

“Being a brat doesn’t suit you, sweetie. You’re way better at being my good boy. Wanna be that for me?” “Yes, always.” You turned him over onto his stomach before whispering in his ear. “Then don’t break my rules.” You removed the butt plug from his hole, enjoying the sight of how stretched it became. 

You then reached for the dildo, spreading lube on the material before putting some on his opening. He buried his head in the pillows as you slid it inside of him, slowly moving it back and forth within him. “I need to hear you, okay? Stop trying to be quiet.” You noticed him hesitate and you sighed as you removed the pillows from him and put them to the side. He was practically a mewling and whimpering mess, his sounds far more than pornographic.

“Mm, Y/N, f-fuck.” You smirked at the sound of your name slipping from his lips. “Color?” “Green.” Your hand wrapped around his length, stroking it in time with the movements of the dildo. “Gonna cum for me?” “Mhm.” “Go ahead and let go.” Soft moans and groans escaped him as he started to cum, painting his stomach white.

You were quick to get him on his back again, slipping the dildo out before licking his abs clean. The sight alone made him hard again. “Sit tight for me. I’ll be back. Don’t try touching yourself.” You took the toys away and cleaned them before putting them up. You then found a towel large enough to throw onto the bed. You entered the bedroom and grabbed the last thing of the night. 

Kai watched in anticipation as you put on the strap on he himself picked out. You remembered how shy he was that day, his face a light shade of pink as he pointed to the most realistic strap on in the store. You put the straps in place before getting in bed with him. 

“How do you want to do this, babe? I want you to be comfortable.” “Um, I just want you to face me because you’re really hot and I want to be able to wrap my legs and arms around you. I also want you to mark me up and fuck the shit out of me.” You were proud of the bit of confidence he gained, applying his words to your memory. “You’re so filthy and I love it.” You grabbed the lube, covering the strap on in it before putting some on your fingers and prepping him to take it.

You slowly slid within him, watching the way he took every single inch. His eyes were fixated on you as you allowed him to adjust. “Color?” 

“Green.” You placed his legs around your waist before you began to thrust, watching as he bit his lip and looked away from you. You grabbed his chin firmly, looking him in his eyes as you pounded harder into him. “Don’t take your eyes off of me and let me hear you. Make the world know my name.” He did just as you asked, his eyes on yours as he continuously moaned out your name for everyone to hear.

You were sure to get a noise complaint but you couldn’t care less, not when the man of your dreams was being ruined by you and holding onto your body for dear life. Crescent moon indents from his nails digging in your back were sure to be left as you repeatedly hit his prostate.

His shyness was now clouded and thoroughly overtaken by lust. You nipped at his neck before making your way to his earlobe and whispering into his ear. “You take this cock so well, baby. You’re such a good boy for me.” He almost mewled at the praise, dumb from the way you were fucking him. You noticed that he started to try and squirm away from you as the pleasure began to build up within him.

“Legs up in the air for me.” You tapped his thigh and he easily obeyed. You grabbed his legs, readjusting the position to one that reached deeper places in him and prevented his ability to escape. He let out the most guttural noise you’d ever heard him make. “Fuck, Y/N, g-gonna cum.” 

You now rutted into him, commanding him to cum for you as you thrusted at a brutal pace. He met his release and you let him catch his breath. You kissed him softly then pulled out of him, removing the strap from your body. “You did so good, Kai.” You grabbed the towel that was under the two of you and cleaned him of the mess he’d made. You grabbed the lube and strap on.

You cleaned the dildo, putting it up with the harness. You then threw the towel in a hamper. You made your way through your shared home and grabbed a bottle of water for Kai. 

Once you stepped in the bedroom, you saw him looking at the doorway, patiently waiting for your arrival. “You enjoyed yourself,” you questioned. “Mhm, makes me think I need to make you jealous more often.” You rolled your eyes at him before speaking. “I thought I told you that being a brat didn’t suit you.”

He smirked as he responded. “Maybe you’ll have to teach it to me then. Wanna teach me a lesson, Y/N,” he asked, giddy from the sex you’d just had. “You’re insufferable. What happened to the nervous and timid Kai?” “He realized that he was in good hands and there was nothing to be afraid of, not with a girlfriend as trustworthy as you.” Your heart swelled at his words and you jumped in the bed with him, hugging him tightly. “I love you, Mr. Anderson.” “I love you too, Y/N.” 

[dany-is-my-queen]

A Question Of Loyalty XIV

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 3,5k

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

You took a trembling breath as the brooch slipped from your fingers, its soft clink echoing. The weight of grief, loss, and the burden of choices made.

Although you were tempted to go straight to Dragonstone with Rhaenys' remains, you ended up returning to the capital. There was no hunger for answers, no craving for interactions. All you craved was solitude, for the shock still held you tightly in its grip.

Alicent had dispatched a dozen knights to find you and fetch you safely back. Yet, you eluded their search, deliberately taking the longer path home. Your dragon, wounded by the Scorpion’s quarrels, sought solace in the nearby mountains, nursing its strength back to health.

The Dowager Queen yearned to go to you the moment she discovered your return, but you denied her presence, refusing even the comfort of your beloved Haleana, who sought to console you as well.

You screamed through your casement with intensity, your eyes aflame with a fervor on the brink of eruption. Each muffled shout gradually lost its potency, stifled and quelled until your throat could no longer produce a single vocalization. Your outburst resonated with such force that its echoes reverberated all the way to The Wall, reaching ears that stood at a distance.

Rumors, like wildfire, devoured the truth. They whispered of a shattered mind, accusing you of spilling the blood of the King's men, even the Lord Commander’s. They claimed you failed to shield him from the foe, leaving him grievously wounded. They weaved tales of your supposed treachery, plotting to keep him in that weakened state, with the intent to bring about his demise. They called you a failure.

But those who dared to look beyond the surface, who peered into the depths of your pain, understood. They saw it as a struggle within the bounds of family, an act driven by a daughter's love. To them, your actions were justified, as any child with a compassionate heart would have done the same.

Opinions, divided as they were, held no sway over you. The world's judgment felt insignificant. You berated yourself relentlessly for the inability to intervene as you wished, even though the circumstances were beyond your control. The crushing weight of helplessness enveloped you, intensifying the pain of failing to protect those you held dear. Your efforts always fell short, leaving you to bear the consequences.

With your mother gone, the world lost its balance. Without her, Laena, Laenor.. everything felt askew.

Aegon, weakened and burned, found no strength to cast blame or reproach upon you. Aemond, though visibly perturbed, chose silence over comment. Aegon's throne was now occupied by his brother, the Protector of the Realm, as he languished in his bed, unable to govern. Otto resumed his former position.

—

Days melted into one another. Food lost its flavor, and sleep became a mere facade as you sat, staring blankly through the window.

Alicent faithfully visited you every morning and afternoon, harboring no blame for the choices that led to this. She comprehended the extents of your anguish, understanding the why behind your actions. She refused to see betrayal in the loss of her sworn protector. Instead, she offered genuine concern, striving to uplift your shattered spirit. Yet, you couldn't bear the thought of her wasting her precious time on your sorrow.

"I brought the cake we learned to make together when we first met," Alicent gently shared. Memories danced within her words, evoking the image of your amazed face as you discovered your culinary prowess that surpassed even the most skilled cooks in King's Landing. "You possess a natural talent. It may not be as refined as yours, but I asked them to pour their hearts into it," Alicent concluded, tinged with warmth, hoping to infuse some light into your dim world.

"Thank you, dear," you replied, determined not to let your pain dampen her kindness. She refused to give up.

"Nyke miss ao, issa joraelagon," she stumbled in your second language, her effort endearing to you as you witnessed her struggle.

"Jorrāelagon," you corrected her gently, a flicker of a smile gracing your lips, a rare sight in these times. "You're making progress," you teased, and she returned the smile.

"I need more practice; I cannot disappoint you," she confessed, audaciously leaning against the edge of the bed. The gesture brought you ease rather than discomfort.

Silence enveloped you, and as you turned your gaze, your eyes locked with hers. The delicate intensity in her stare made you feel as fragile as glass.

"I’m sorry, Y/N. And I'm here by your side," she whispered. Your attention lingered on her lips, and instinctively, she closed the gap between you, sealing your connection in a gentle, unintended kiss. Without hesitation, you straddled her, the world around you fading as your lips sought relieve in one another's embrace, drawing breaths that fueled the yearning for each other, not mere oxygen.

As the morning light seeped through the curtains, Alicent continued to cradle you, providing serenity that eased the ache within you.

—

Amidst the gentle morning, bathed in the golden rays of the rising sun, you sat by the gardens. Within this a sanctuary was found in the presence of mother and daughter, their bond deepening over the passing months. Despite Haleana's reservations toward forging connections with others, she let her mother in.

In that very instant, a vow surged. You swore to safeguard them, to offer your very life if need be, for the anguish of losing a mother knows no bounds. There was no sacrifice too great, no price too steep.

Haleana, enveloped in her own musings, excused herself, leaving you alone with Alicent. The stage was set, and you knew the time had come to reveal things. Delayed though it may have been..

Alicent spoke of her brother’s eagerness to delve beyond mere formalities and acquaint himself with you. Succumbing to the game, you matched her jest with lighthearted banter, affirming Gwayne's honorable character and striking handsomeness.

"Handsome?" she exclaimed.

"Indeed, the most handsome Hightower I have ever known," you continued, stoking the fires of mirth within her.

"Shall I summon him to your presence, that you may indulge in a conversation, or perhaps embark on a ride together?" she offered, you feigned to be considering the proposal.

"I find greater excitement in riding dragons than horses," you confessed, your words bearing no hidden innuendo, prompting her laughter to cascade. "What have I said?" An innocent grin adorning your countenance.

"That he is the most handsome Hightower you know," she echoed your earlier words, and you tilted your head ever so slightly, directing your gaze solely upon her.

"And you, my love, are the most beautiful Hightower I have ever beheld," you added. As anticipated, a delicate blush bloomed upon her cheeks. "Though, technically, you are a Targaryen, are you not?"

"The colors of your house adorn me far better, do they not?" she mused. "You have always been black and red.”

"I bear fire and the sea within my veins. Yet, you speak true, for one force will inevitably dominate," you confessed, grappling with the figurative language that danced upon your lips. “Alicent..—“ With a fleeting moment of courage, you closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve, and dared to maintain eye contact as you stood on the precipice of baring yourself. Alicent, ever attentive, awaited as you prepared to unveil.

“Your Grace, my Lady," a guard's voice resonated behind you, saluting with reverence. "There are urgent matters that demand your attention. Prince Aemond and Ser Otto await you at the Hand's Tower.”

"Thank you, Ser," Alicent replied, her disappointment hidden beneath a mask of regal composure. Reluctantly, the two of you followed the guard's lead.

Upon entering the Red Keep, Alicent firmly clasped your hand, steadfastly refusing to release it, despite the passing gazes of onlookers. You reciprocated the gesture with an equally firm grip.

Within the confines of the Tower of the Hand, Aemond's scrutinizing gaze met your own, a flicker of concern shadowing his features. Ser Otto, ever disdainful of the bond between you and Alicent, maintained an air of disinterest. The presence of other lords, gathered with intent.

"What unfolds, my son?" Alicent cut through the charged atmosphere.

"The Pretender and her forces have gained an army." Aemond responded.

"An army? Have they sought the aid of sellswords?" your curiosity welled up.

“No, not sellswords, but dragons. One of them being the former companion of your very own," he revealed.

"Vermithor?" He nodded.

"How can such a thing be possible?" Alicent's voice wavered, her confusion mirroring your own.

"According to Lord Strong's spies, your father played a hand in guiding the Princess's actions. Their motivations diverged in the aftermath of Rook's Rest, but time pressed upon them. Weeks were spent in search of riders who could mount the dragons dwelling on Dragonstone. Even Ser Laenor's Seasmoke found a place among their ranks."

"Two dragons then.”

"My sources speak of attempts to tame more, wild dragons. Yet, only one yielded to their will—Sheepstealer."

"The capital would crumble beneath the weight of their dragons. They would descend upon us with six in total," Master Orwyle interjected. The scales tipped in favor of the Blacks, leaving naught but a bleak outlook.

"And how were these dragons tamed?"

"Bastard blood holds an extraordinary power, Your Grace," Larys responded, casting a fleeting glance in your direction. Your anger flared.

"My granddaughter does not ride her dragon. Sunfyre, like the king, languishes in a state of inaction. Only Vhagar and Silverwing stand to defend our city," Otto voiced.

"Silverwing has yet to recover fully. It would be unwise to send her into battle, for her presence may sow more damage than aid," you interjected. In truth, you harbored doubts as to whether you desired involvement in the imminent conflict.

"That is the least you and your dragon could offer after your lackluster performance in the recent incident, my lady," Ser Otto retorted.

Aemond swiftly intervened, commanding and authoritative. "Address Lady Y/N with the respect she deserves, grandfather. We must be prepared for any surprise attacks from the Blacks."

The fate of kingdoms teetered on the edge.

—

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets of King's Landing, you walked alongside Alicent, she extended an invitation, drawing you into the grandeur of the Great Table.

The Hall echoed with silence as only the two of you sat. The remnants of your interrupted conversation from the morning still lingered, beckoning to be resumed.

"Can you fathom the magnitude of the menace we face?" The very thought of combating so many fully-grown dragons sent shivers down Alicent’s spine. In that moment, the allure of escape, of fleeing the city of chaos with Alicent & Helaena, enticed you. To leave everything behind, to shield your loved ones from further bloodshed, danced on the periphery of your thoughts. Yet, that notion, ephemeral and fragile, dissolved as swiftly as it had appeared. For deep within your being, a burning desire stirred. You yearned to see her.

"We may not have the means to defend ourselves," you admitted.

"And shall we surrender, then? Yielding to her without a fight?" It held a desperate tremor, an echo of the resignation that would inevitably come.

"If your father and Aemond can devise superior strategies, if they can unearth a path to victory, then perchance we may yet elude that fate," you replied, burdened by the uncertainties that lay ahead.

"Whose side will you choose when she arrives?" Her voice betrayed the fear that gripped her heart.

A surge of guilt washed over you as you struggled to find an immediate answer, weary from the ceaseless battles waged within. In the end, it mattered not, for no matter the path you chose, you always questioned if it was the right one.

Shifting the weight of the conversation, you took a long sip of wine, the crimson liquid offering respite. And as the intoxicating warmth coursed through, you began to unburden your chest, the words tumbling forth in a hushed, intimate confession.

"My mother, she believed I harbored resentment, even hatred towards her... When she was imprisoned after King Viserys' death, she revealed the truth of my parentage to me," you confessed, your voice laden with an ache that echoed. A momentary pause allowed the weight of those words to settle. With parched lips, you took another sip.

"I accused her of me being born out of wedlock, of not being hers. And it was then, that she confessed the truth to me," you continued. Alicent's gaze remained fixed upon you, her expression unreadable, allowing you the space to share the depths of your secret.

"The anger within me swelled, for she had never intended to reveal it, and yet Corlys had known all along. He had accepted her, married her. He had accepted me and raised me as a Velaryon, never making me feel any less. For that, I am eternally grateful," you spoke, filled with gratitude.

"My true father was but a sailor, who had got her with child when she was promised to Corlys. He wanted to know me, to be a part of my life... until tragedy befell him, a cruel twist of fate. And that was the end of it. He was from Lys, as handsome as the tales of old, she said.”

Minutes passed, and you remained embraced in silence, leaving Alicent to wonder if it was time to offer her own thoughts.

She cherished the raw honesty that flowed from you, even though it was not the first time she had heard this confession. She understood the tremendous blow it had dealt you when you first learned of your true lineage.

"Perhaps my mother departed this world believing that this revelation was the reason I did not choose to follow her," you confessed, tinged with regret, the specter of missed opportunities lingering.

"But in the end, Y/N, you were by her side. You came to her rescue. In her heart, she knew you harbored no hatred, for it was something you could never possess.”

"I apologize for not confiding in you sooner," you murmured, the weight of your words softened by the realization that you had sought to shield her from the anguish that haunted your past.

"Why did you not?" Her inquiry, gentle and understanding, sought not to condemn but to unravel the complexities of your heart. "Did you genuinely believe... that I would turn you away, knowing your true parentage? You know me better than that, Y/N."

"I could not risk losing you," you confessed, the words weighed down by the fear of abandonment that had silently plagued your thoughts.

"Y/N..."

"I thought you harbored reservations..." The words escaped before you could contain them, abruptly halted as you caught yourself, unwilling to give them a voice.

She finished the sentence for you. "I know you believed that because of the princess's children.I would never turn away from you, Y/N. It pains me that you did not trust me enough to confide in me sooner, but I understand your reasons. And it is alright, truly," Alicent assured you, brimming with warmth and acceptance.

"I love you," you whispered, surrendering yourself to the rest of the night.

—

Rhaenyra recognized the urgency to press forward, as she feared being remembered as the queen who failed to rightfully claim her father's throne—a title she found unappealing and detrimental to her reputation. She had always known Alicent's words were a lie, a deceitful ploy to drive you away for good. Initially, Rhaenyra considered abandoning the fight for the sake of her children's safety, but she reconsidered, she refused to be remembered in such a manner.

For her cause, they had secured three valuable dragons: Sheepstealer, Vermithor, & Seamoke. Seamoke, her ex-husband's mount. She believed him to be alive beyond the Narrow Sea with his lover, Ser Carl. Rhaenyra envied their freedom from the burdens of duty and madness that came with their birthright. In her ideal reality, she pictured a life with you, free from all constraints.

Everything was prepared for their advancement, Jaecerys, the Prince of Dragonstone, was eager to proceed until your alliance with the High Council of the Triarchy altered their plans. Warships had arrived at the Stepstones, leading to a change in strategy. The attack was not only focused on capturing strategic locations but also targeted your father’s ancestral seat, High Tide. As those who entered the Gullet south of Dragonstone faced resistance, Prince Jacaerys fought back on Vermax, but the men from the Free Cities refused to give in. More dragons appeared above the Dragonmont, aiming to eliminate their opposition.

Sadly, the dragon ridden by Rhaenyra's eldest son couldn't withstand the assault and crashed into the sea. The heir to the Throne met a tragic end, struck by multiple arrows and swallowed by the ocean. There was no doubt about the bravery of Jace, just as his younger brother Luke had shown. The news of their demise spread quickly, leaving you with a different kind of helplessness than when you learned about Vhagar's attack on Arrax. You knew your eldest nephew wasn't a craven, and you were certain he fought until his last breath.

If you held faith in the afterlife, in.. realms beyond, you believed that Jace and Luke were now reunited.

You knew Rhaenyra’s assault on the capital was imminent, awaiting the opportune moment.

You also discovered that Daeron, earned the title of ‘Ser Daeron the Daring’. He displayed bravery by saving Lord Ormund and joining the rescue mission at the River Honeywine, becoming the hero of that battle. You knew he didn't claim all the credit for himself; he shared it with his companion & she-dragon, Tessarion, with whom you had shared many adventurous afternoons and joyful moments. Time had transformed him into a courageous, audacious, and kind-hearted lad.

Rhaenyra knew of your loss, for she, too, held deep affection Rhaenys. Upon discovering your deeds in Rook’s Rest, she naively believed you would return home to her. Yet, you did not. Finally, she comprehended that you would no longer choose her, rendering her waiting in vain. She wanted to confront you, face to face, regardless of the outcome. Expectations evaporated, leaving only the desire to extricate you from her mind and heart, allowing her to forge ahead.

—

Aemond, undeterred by counsel and brimming with conviction, persisted in advocating for a daring plan that involved riding forthwith to Daemon's doorstep. His aim was to seize his adversary unawares, ending his life within the ancient walls of Harrenhal, where the Prince had long entrenched himself. With each stride taken toward this perilous objective, Rhaenyra's vulnerability would be amplified, bereft of both husband and one fewer dragon.

Yet, despite the fervent dissuasion voiced by yourself and his mother, he scorned the wisdom proffered by those closest to him. Fuelled by his own impetuous resolve, he hastily sought to mount Vhagar's back, with Otto at his side, who embraced his shared vision.

"Tarry a while longer until your brother is fit for battle. It ill behooves you to court such hazard alone," Alicent implored, her pleas ringing forth with maternal concern.

"Mother, place your trust in my capabilities," he reassured. "Vhagar has emerged unscathed from countless fights, fret not for my well-being." Upon hearing Aemond's declaration, an almost uncontrollable surge of wrath surged within you, tempting you to lunge forward and deliver an instinctual blow upon his unwary countenance. Yet, for the sake of it, you restrained yourself, holding firm against the tempestuous emotions that coursed through your veins. "The defense of the City shall not languish," he proclaimed with unwavering confidence.

"It could, Your Grace," you interjected, your words carefully chosen to maintain a semblance of deference.

"Mark my words, I shall return bearing my uncle's head ensconced within a bloodstained sack, a fitting tribute for you, my Lady," he pronounced, with certainty and unabashed arrogance. In response, you narrowed your gaze, choosing to forsake any further attempt to dissuade him.

"Lady Y/N, I submit that you should accompany Prince Aemond, for it is wiser to traverse this treacherous path with a stalwart companion, who also happens to possess a fierce dragon. And since he spurns aid from Storm's End or his younger brother, it behooves us to act prudently," Lord Jasper proffered.

“My lords, do not misconstrue my decision as an act of cowardice. I will not forsake my post, leaving the Queen Dowager and Queen Haleana vulnerable to the machinations of their adversaries," you proclaimed.

"Fear not, for valiant men stand ready to safeguard them against any who would bring them harm. Knights capable of shielding them from all danger," He continued.

At this juncture, Alicent seized the opportunity to voice her own retort. "No knight can lay claim to greater valor or loyalty than our Lady Y/N," she admonished Lord Jasper. The men within the chamber exchanged furtive glances, and Lord Wylde, could not mask his sense of humiliation.

"'Twas naught but a humble suggestion, Your Grace, yet I shall yield to your wisdom," he conceded with an air of acquiescence.

"Come morrow, I’ll depart," Aemond declared.

~~~~~

Taglist: @nnightskiess @loveislove4 @evattude @lethal-minds @sophiexoxsblog @claymoresword @tired-ninfa @glorioushamsterqueen @alicenter @newcaptainofsquad9 @pindoris @oh-thats-cute @rxscpctals @laenordeservedbetter @voniikg @bugwritesstuff @letlovee-in @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valenciavv @the-camilucha @joliettes @itssecret2109 @i-nail-jello-to-walls @cone-fused-mind

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty-Three

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Hey, besties; sorry for the delay. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. First, one of my coworkers called off (she doesn't even work here anymore because she missed too much), and I had to do two 10-hour shifts. Then my freaking internet went out because some tree trimmers cut the connection line for everyone! And after that, I had a crisis and lost the inspiration and drive to write. This chapter is a two-parter, which I usually wouldn't say I like to do, but it would've been over 10k words. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always, thank you for reading!

Chapter Warnings: The reader has severely unresolved trauma, angst, Arryk is a white knight.

"The axe forgets; the tree remembers." - Zimbabwean Proverb from the Shona tribe.

You were still determining your place inside Maegor's Holdfast, unfamiliar with the royal wing layout like you were with the rest of the Keep, having found an abandoned terrace that the court long forgot. Leaves of green ivory crawled up the side of the castle, wrapping around the red rock banister like an unkempt tree in the Godswood.

Your eyes gazed at the iron mote of spikes that protected the Holdfast. They shined wet like a predator's teeth, grinning back at you in misery.

Your body felt full, yet empty, full of swirling emotions and thoughts you had long buried, stirring the formerly clear water into a murky pool. Yet in that same emotion, you felt nothing, the well dried up from a summer's prolonged drought left with dust and sand at the bottom. You were uncertain if the nothingness was a blessing. Conceivably, it was your psyche's way of coping with the trauma of your life's story. You were fearful that if you suddenly felt those surges of memories, thoughts, and regrets, the iron spikes would be dripping with your blood.

Your title was called out from behind you so softly and so tender it was a whisper in the wind, almost causing you to disregard it as a trick of your mind. The sound of armor clanking and fabric rustling told you otherwise.

"Princess, the hour is late. You must get your rest," Ser Arryk expressed, his voice as compassionate as a mother. You refused to answer, the energy to move your lips and tongue long sapped out from crying.

He stepped onto the balcony until he was beside you, his arms stiff behind his back, shoulders tense at the silence. Arryk was conflicted about what to do. He knew he could not order you to sleep. His position was not one to command the eldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen, but he was assigned to be your sworn protector in all matters, whether defending you from a foe or yourself.

"My Lady, you need not speak of what has stolen you from sleep, but let it take no longer. I shall lead you to your bed chambers," the kingsguard offered kindly, leaving no room for rejection.

Finally, your eyes met his blue ones, seeing your black lashes clumped together from tears. Arryk wanted to comfort and embrace you as any good-natured person would but refrained, simply placing an inviting palm on your shoulder. He had seen you at your worst years ago after your brawl with the Septa, knuckles swollen and red with the blood of the older woman, beautiful face pink and glistening with tears down your cheeks.

Otto Hightower, be damned. Damned to the fiery pits of the Seven Hells to burn for all eternity for what he made Arryk do. You were too dear to the knight to betray your trust anymore. Though Ser Arryk never discovered any hurtful information other than the peculiarity of you and the eldest son of the King's relationship. He spent every waking moment inhaling the same air as you, breathing in each exhale like it was his last. How could he ever betray your trust in good conscience?

"Aegon was the one who discovered Lyra's plans to smuggle me out of Kings Landing. He killed them." Your words tore him from his internal struggle with shock.

Arryk's brows scrunched in confusion, trying to recall what you were saying. His face paled when he did, remembering the blotchy grey faces displayed on the battlements of the Red Keep for all to see, for all to see the Hand's justice. May Lord Hightower's death be long and painful for what he did to you, Arryk thought.

"I wish Aegon were dead," you spoke aloud without realizing it.

The knight became worried, suddenly closing the distance between you to make somehow your confession disappear. "Princess. You must be careful what you say here. The walls have ears, and the ears have eyes."

"No, Ser Arryk. Let them hear it," you protested, your nails digging crescents into your palms. "Mayhaps they will understand the agony I have suffered all these years. The mornings and nights I have laid awake in bed, praying to the Old Gods and the New for them to somehow bring her back and make it so nothing happened." You sucked in a ragged breath, hiccuping from the remnants of your tears as your body became too challenging to carry. "I cannot do this anymore. I cannot be here."

The kingsguardmen did not understand your true meaning of how you desired greatly to leave this whole charade behind, to return to Dragonstone and watch little Joffery and the younger Viserys and Aegon grow into their skins, to watch Lucerys become the man you were confident for him to be. Instead, Arryk thought the worst, believing your words to be final and life-ending, as he firmly grabbed your biceps.

He said your name gently yet sternly, causing your glazed eyes to widen. "You must not think like that. I shan't allow it," he commanded. "You are the strongest maiden in the realm. You ride the fiercest dragon, feared by humans and its species. You have endured hardships and trials a girl of your age should never have to, and even when your blood was stolen from you, you did not turn to resentment. You were not bitter to those undeserving."

You attempted to move your face away from Arryk's, unconvinced at his words. He was so close that you could smell the mint leaves on his tongue. "You are stronger than you know, and until then, each moment like this, you will feel as if it is too much, but you will always find yourself emerging on the other side."

No words made their way to your lips, and you suddenly felt the rush of emotions you had thought dried. You stepped away from Arryk, embracing your torso as you faced the opened doors that led inside. You didn't want to feel anything. Not now, nor ever again. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you returned to the silver-armored knight of the Kingsguard.

"I seem to have lost my bearings, Ser Arryk," you whispered into the chill night air. "Will you help me find my way back to the guest wing?"

The request was a peace offering, a silent "thank you" for his unfailing kindness. If he had not dedicated his life in service to the King, he would've made an excellent father and an even better husband.

Ser Arryk nodded stiffly, taking long strides ahead of you until all you could see was his pristine white cape flowing like a field of wheat in the wind.

***

You desperately desired to stay within the confines of your bed, as if laying underneath the thin cotton sheets would protect you from the outside world. It was silly, and you felt childish, but truly, that was all you were—a child disguised as a woman painting a facade of fierceness and maturity on your skin. But the pigments had cracked and bleached from weathering winds, rains, and suns until it revealed the canvas underneath. You wished desperately for the chips to be covered, groping at your flesh to hide them from the world.

But it was too late, for they had seen the peeled paint and what lay beneath—a frightened young girl yearning for acceptance and love.

Tears returned to your eyes, a common occurrence over the past fortnight. Your maids had become used to seeing you sniffling in your bed as you were now, covers tucked underneath your nose to hide your sobs. They had tried more than once to find the root of your sadness, but you were a closed door, keeping those who cared for you locked from entering.

Helaena had moved your quarters to the Holdfast as she promised, something you were initially looking forward to. It meant less sneaking around the halls and the corridors of the Keep like a mouse to find Aegon, but that was why precisely you dreaded it now. Though you had scarcely seen him, no doubt drunker than a Bravosi sailor in the pillow houses, the fact that he resided within the same wing made your skin prickle with disgust.

He had yet to return your dagger, small and silver with dragons on the hilt, and you had half a mind to storm inside his chambers for it, but each time you were within eyesight of his door, profound nausea and the sting of tears would stop you.

How could you have lain with the man who bore the blood of two innocents? How could Aegon lay with the kin of the people he sentenced to death? You knew him to be cruel and unusual, but that was something even you could not rightly justify.

Aegon was no matter, you told yourself, rising from your bed at the smell of ham and boiled eggs. All that did was ensuring your Mother's smooth succession. You could achieve it in other manners of not seducing the eldest son of the King. Your presence was something enough to stop them should the Stranger take your Grandsire, and if Queen Alicent and Lord Otto Hightower try to place Aegon on the throne, you would gut her, then her Father, then her beloved first son before the following morn.

You would kill a legion of men before Aegon ever sat upon the Iron Throne, even if it meant your demise.

It's what your Father would want. He would proudly let his daughter lay down her life in service to the crown, just as he would. There would be no nobler of a death.

Jeyne had readied your bath and outfit for the day, a high-collared dress made of black satin. Small silver plates of metal and beads that looked like dragon scales were sewn on the torso in a 'v' shape, accentuating the scandalous low cut of your gown. The sleeves were a long, unsewn style, the stitching keeping them together ending just before the crook of your arm and flowing around you like a cape at your sides. You paired it with an ornate belt, the design of swirling dragons with their teeth bared melted into the steel,  matching hammered cuffs on your wrists. Your necklace was a simple chain, needlelike links dripping down your sternum until they looped into your house sigil. 

You looked to be in mourning garbs rather than the typical court colors, a common occurrence. Perhaps you were, in a sense, mourning. Mourning a loss you should have accepted years ago, weeping for happiness free of politics and schemes, mourning the connection from someone you tried so hard not to form one with.

The three ladies had learnt not to ask why you made such decisions in your clothes. They would only be met with a lie and a smile that stretched a bit too wide. They understood that something had happened and did their best to tread carefully. You were not cross with them, no matter how hurt, vengeful, or angry. Fiora, Jeyne, and Dyanna were innocent in all this, as Sara was, and you refused to have them involved with any of your personal affairs in fear of what would become of the three women.

You paused momentarily, adjusting the designed belt to rest comfortably on your waist, realizing the littlest maid was not there.

"Where is Dyanna?" you asked calmly, curious but not concerned about where she could be. "Is she unwell?"

"No, Princess," Fiora answered, ushering you to the vanity. "She's been assigned to care for Princess Helaena's children after one of the nursemaids fell ill and had to be sent home."

Your brows scrunched in confusion, frowning at the memory of your time with the young Prince and Princess. You have seen the little ones almost every day since the beginning of the planting season, and you haven't noticed any ailments in their caretaker.

You reasoned that illnesses always had the potential to be a sudden onset of symptoms. You had seen in your childhood on the merchant streets how a vendor was acceptable one day, selling different fruits and vegetables you could never afford, then the next, gone without a trace due to a fever. You hoped Jaehaerys and Jaehaera did not catch whatever it was. The first decade of a child's life was the most precarious, their tiny bodies not used to the dirt and disease the realm had to offer.

You left the thought at that, hoping to see the skittish, fair-skinned girl with them. A grimace made its way to your face, attempting to ignore how the wooden comb snagged on a tangle in your hair. Fiora styled it into a braided updo. Two thick plaits in a 'u' shape lay at your skull's base, a silver three-layered chain with black star sapphires pinning it to your hair. Clasping a pair of fan-shaped earrings in your lobes, you stood, stealing one last boiled egg before bidding your ladies farewell and greeting Ser Arryk at the door.

He followed wordlessly, as any knight should, observing how your hips slightly swayed with each step of your leather slippers. Arryk had tread carefully since that scornful night. Since the night you reeked of sweat, alcohol, and tears. He remembered seeing the stars reflected in your dark eyes, the violet hidden during the hour of the wolf, and he couldn't help but think how things might have been if your Father wasn't a Targaryen.

Perhaps he could've met you before he swore to take no wife and bear no heirs. Possibly still while he was a simple bannermen, living from allowance to allowance. Arryk would not have the luxuries he had now if it happened, but if ever given a chance, he might leave it all behind. It would be a shame to leave the highest rank a knight of lower-born descent could achieve, but he would do it for love, for only if you loved him back.

Your guard had suddenly stopped following behind you, standing idly with a slight wrinkle on his forehead and hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Ser Cargyll?" you questioned without words incredulously, tilting your head to the side.

He was silent for a moment more, seeming to come back from wherever he was inside his mind. It was a dangerous place to be inside one's head for too long. It sent some men mad, some women to despair, and some to where they could never leave. You knew what it was like when one would stay inside too long. It sent you reeling in anger, sadness, and joy. There is too much inside not to get lost in.

"Princess, this is not the way to the Godswood," Ser Arryk stated, the crease on his forehead gone.

"I know, Ser. We are not going to the Godswood today," you answered politely, not elaborating further as you continued walking.

"If you don't mind me asking, your Grace, where are we going?"

You flashed a bright smile at Arryk, glancing behind before coyly turning away. He started at the back of your intricately braided hair, mesmerized by the being that was you. His eyes traced how your ebony strands crossed in on themselves, the way the golden chains bounced with every stride. The knight noiselessly cursed the Maiden and the Mother for making you in their image.

While Ser Arryk did recognize the halls you traveled, he was sure you didn't. Your head twists and turns each way, peering into every door and threshold, searching for something he was unsure of.

"Princess, I may be a knight, but I am your protector. 'Tis my right to know your plans and destinations," he commanded as kindly a man could in hopes of not securing your wrath.

He had seen it once before in the training yard at the hour of ghosts, Prince Aegon standing too close to be considered appropriate, his sworn protector nowhere in sight. Despite Arryk's place on the ramparts above and the sun having long set in the west, he could spot the twitches underneath your eye, barely containing malice on your pursed lips as you pulled your bowstring. The knight hadn't noticed how you did it, but a rock was within the place of the arrow as you shot it at the crown Prince's foot, earning a yelp from the twenty-year-old lecher.

You turned back to him, crossing your arms with an undignified huff. "I am not gallivanting off into the Kingswood, Ser Cargyll. I do not understand your persistence with the matter." Arryk attempted to hide the frown that pulled his lips, but you saw him sighing softly and looking to the floor to think over your words more carefully. "We are visiting Grand Maester Orwyle. He has a collection of history and law books that has peaked my interest."

You stepped towards him, breathing a calming breath through your nose, and dropped your arms. Ser Arryk was a fragile soul, simple almost, only following the linear path of honor and duty with no concern for whether it was right or wrong. If the King said it, he did it. If the Queen said it, he did it. If you said it, he did it. His singular vision of things was almost admirable at times. To blindly follow orders without the moral guilt of your actions was something you hoped for. It would make things easier in this game of thrones and less heavy to bear.

But that wasn't life. That wasn't the fate the Gods intended for those with responsibility, though many attempted. Rhaenyra tried, and if you were her, impending the ever-looming doom of the crown, you too would stay tucked away in the little world where life felt light.

Arryk took your stillness as an invitation to walk alongside you, silently leading you to the Maester's quarters and saving your pride from ignorance. You ordered him to stay outside, and he obeyed without a second thought, dipping his head and muttering, "Princess."

Maester Orwyle was hunched over a large oak desk, tomes scattered across it, pieces of parchment covering most of the surface; peeking between them were lighter patches on the wood worn from centuries of usage. It was a simple room with a cot at the far end of it, large bookcases occupying most of the space. Multiple candles were lit throughout the dim room, the smell of incense burning heavily. Shelves lined the bare walls, glass bottles of liquids, salves, and dried herbs occupying them.

The brown-skinned man looked up from his work upon your entrance, sitting the quill he was writing with inside the inkwell and standing.

"Princess, how can I help you?" he asks sincerely. You could still recall when you first met him, scribbling notes and assisting the former Maester Mellos as he tended to you.

"I was inquiring if I may borrow some books of laws from your collection. I find myself not reading the correct ones in the library to assist my studies."

You weren't lying. You couldn't find the text you were searching for because it was not only laws. It was the death records of prisoners, and only the keeper of those things had access to them in their collection.

"Ah. I see," Orwyle nodded, rising from his desk and clasping his hands behind his canvas robes. He led you across the room, showing you to the section. "May I ask what specificity you require so that I may lead you to the correct tome?"

You planned for him to ask you this, and as you rehearsed a dozen times in your head, you smiled, bobbing politely. "Of course. I am in search of the laws regarding war aid. We have provided some to the Stepstones, and Lord Corlys brought to my attention that they require more. I do not want to make it seem like the Crown is inserting itself into the conflict."

He beamed slightly, a sight you never recalled seeing on the man before as he directed you to the section of law. An entire side of the bookshelf dedicated to just that, tomes of varying shades of green, brown, and black, and you blanched at the sight. What would the records be like if this was only the law section? Would you have time to sort through them all to find the one you need?

"Thank you," you said, concealing the sudden rush of anxiety within your gut. "I realized that your collection was vast, but this is..." you trailed off, gesturing to everything around you, "expansive. How do you ever keep track of them all?"

Orwyle chuckled, seeming to preen under what he took as praise, bowing in gratefulness. "It is not all from me, Princess. Each book has been added with every Maester since they were brought to the Keep. We simply divide each shelf by memory, though we try to keep the subjects together."

"That is..." you couldn't find the right words, truly at a loss for them as you stared at the collection before you, "extraordinary. You must show me everything!"

You took his arm in yours, leading him out of the secluded area like a child with their playmate, giggling like an unwed maiden as you skipped along. Orwyle was surprised by your giddy demeanor, contrasting the dim and almost gloomy atmosphere despite the late morning sun shining through the tall stained glass windows. The Maester was alone within these four walls, writing, studying, and mixing away with the occasional Lord or Lady stopping by. To have such radiant company was a welcomed intrusion to his duty-filled days.

Men are so easy. All you had to do was smile demurely, flutter your lashes, and they would eat shit out of the palm of your hand.

Orwyle guided you, explained how each section was organized, and added his anecdotes. You listened intently, nodding along to every word, no matter how minute it seemed. This endeavor had proven more fruitful than you intended. The Maester had enjoyed your company so much that he invited you back, insisting that you could pick whatever book you wished before he left to return to his work.

And so you did. Traversing to your rooms with six tomes piled high in your limbs before Ser Arryk insisted he carry some, keeping one hidden between the stack within your hold.

Once you reach your chambers, your sworn shield follows you, placing the stacks on a table with neatly stacked parchment, a letter sealed with the Targaryen emblem in black wax resting beside your writing set. You catch Arryk eyeing it for longer than appropriate, and you purposely meet his gaze, a raised brow on your face.

"That is all, Ser Cargyll. I thank you for your assistance." You never fail to detect how he stiffens when you say his title, a quirk you've been unable to comprehend.

As always, he bows and takes his leave, shutting the door noiselessly behind him. When the lock clicks, your hands immediately snatch the letter, knowing who it's from. You lived for the notes from your family; they were the lifeline that kept you afloat in the brackish waters of Kings Landing. It was your only form of communication with them, and you looked ahead to whatever they had to say, no matter how asinine or mundane the contents were.

You ripped the wax seal without care, devouring each word, your eyes moving too fast for your mind to keep up. You could quickly tell it was from your Father, the lines of his letters thicker and more potent than your Mother's, his writing purposeful.

"Daughter,

I hope you find yourself well. Your Mother missed you dearly at Jacaerys' nameday this spring, but she looks forward to seeing you for Luke's later this year. I informed her that you are dealing with matters of importance that require your attention and would be unable to attend. Death comes when we least expect it with crowned heads and ambitious hands."

Tears stinging took you from reading, pursuing your lips to keep them from wetting the document and making the ink illegible. You longed to return to Dragonstone and see your family. Smell the scent of brimstone and salt and feel the damp sea air on your skin as you rode Cannibal high above Dragonmont.

Daemon's reasoning was understandable, but it hurt. It made your heart clench and your chest feel hollow. Resting your forehead on the heel of your palm, the letter in the other, you continued.

"I know this will upset you, but I trust you'll understand my reasoning. We must make sacrifices until your Mother sits on the throne uncontested. You see the concept of duty and loyalty to your kin. You've always been the one out of my children to unwaver in your will, and that is something I admire.

I received word from Lord Dalton Greyjoy, who has proposed marriage just as you said. Your wit and cunning never cease to amaze me, daughter. I still need to send word regarding my decision. I wanted you to be the one to decide.

Lord Greyjoy is a fine match for you. His fleet of long boats and swords rivals that of the crown itself, but I hold my reservations regarding his intentions with you. I believe you have outdone yourself, for he seems bewitched, intent on making you his Rock Wife, and I am unsure if that is harmful or helpful. I've heard the rumors of his treatment regarding his Salt Wives, and I will not tolerate such things toward my eldest child. Should you accept his proposal, and he does not honor his duty as lord husband, I shall cut off his cock and throw it into the sea as a gift for his Drowned God.

Think over this. I do not expect an answer within a moon. If he truly desires you in such a way, he will wait as long as you deem fit. My daughter is not a shiny coin to be plucked and placed in a crow's nest.

Expect a letter from Lucerys soon. He's been inquiring about your happiness. I believe he misses you more than your Mother and I put together. I await your next raven with patience.

Yours Respectfully, Prince Daemon Of House Targaryen"

You scoffed, throwing the letter haphazardly across the table. You knew the proposal from Lord Dalton would come eventually, as you had corresponded for the past seven moons. It was a gratifying distraction you should have taken seriously, your letters filled with much less pomp than was expected for a woman of your status. Possibly, in your lack of care, you inadvertently wooed him as his last raven was treading the line of inappropriate. You remembered how his words made you, a girl who spent her early years in a whore house, blush.

He would be an excellent match politically, and perhaps you could grow to love him, even better his treatment of his Salt Wives. But you knew better. Lord Dalton Greyjoy only loved two things in this world: bloodshed and women. He would grow tired of you swifter than you would him, and it was not proper for women of the realm to have paramours, hypocrisy be damned.

You didn't want to give the situation more thought. Your Father permitted you to mull; you would gladly take it, opening the records book hidden between the stacks.

The pages were easy enough to navigate. The Masters, if not anything, were thorough, creating an index of years in ascending order to the most recent. Your finger paused on the one you remembered so well. The year in which you were stolen everything that might have been. The year that the Stranger claimed two souls earlier than they should have.

You turned the pages.

The smell of aged leather and parchment wafted into the air, nearly choking on its scent in the back of your throat. They arranged the death records from the first of the year to the end of it, and you searched for the seventh moon. On the fifth day, only two deaths are recorded, that of two prisoners named Lyra Black and Sara Smithe. The cause was beheaded by members of the City Watch.

It did not say the names of who, an intelligent choice on the Maester's part, for if you knew, their deaths would become sooner. They were lucky Mellos or one of the many others had the foresight not to write them down, as other Maesters had, but it only made this all the more exciting. The satisfaction as you plunged your dagger into their necks, slicing through tendons, muscles, and vertebrae, ensuring they felt every bit of suffering, anguish, and fear Lyra and Sara felt.

It would be messy. There were many veins and arteries within one's neck. You needed to bring some water with you to wash before returning to your chambers. It would all be for naught if someone saw you walking the halls with blood dripping from your digits and face.

You wished it would be the dagger Daemon had gifted you for your first name day to cut through their flesh, but Aegon still possessed it.

It was no matter. You had four more from the past, but that one, with its silver handle and roaring dragons engraved on both sides, held a place deep within your heart. And Aegon took it, as he always did with things. Take, take, take without concern about who he stole from. You would get it back, but not now. That would raise too much suspicion, and you would not put it past the eldest Prince to run to his Grandsire or Mother as he has done before.

You tried to recollect that fateful night, searching your memory for any detail you could sounder up, but it was hazy. The years you had blurred the picture of the throne room in your mind's eye. It was too painful to remember. Each time you thought of it, it was flashes, little glimpses of faces and bodies and heads. When you thought of it, all you could see was Lyra's smile, spending her last moments trying to reassure you, the fear behind Sara's eyes within her shackles, Otto Hightower's indifference, and Alicent's inaction in the face of two innocents deaths. You would never forget that, nor ever forgive.

You were scarcely in the Great Hall for a moment, and even then, your attention was elsewhere. You witnessed Ser Criston Cole grabbing you, pulling you back, the Queen turning away, and Lyra's comforting grin. Then, you saw them, gaze following the loops of the metal chain attached to Lyra and Sara, hands gripping at it as if the two women were nothing more than dogs. You met the eyes of two Gold Cloaks. You did not know their names, but you would soon; their countenance now burned into your mind.

Masterlist of Series

I've decided to change my uploading schedule from Sun/Mon to whenever possible. I'll always let you know before I post so you won't have to ask, "when are you going to post?!" I know that's not fun, but it works best for me because I get myself so worked up over updating on time when I'm in control of the situation. Also, I'm going to be getting rid of people in my taglist who haven't interacted with this fi since the list is so big. I want to have it all in one and make room for those who are active. So if you've been in my notifs in the past two months, you'll be fine. Welp, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The chapters are gonna get a little messy from here! xD

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[divinemissem13]

Gone But Never Forgotten

2024 Eight Character No True Pair Challenge Fandom: Battlestar Galactica, The Closer Pair: Bill Adama/ Brenda Leigh Johnson Bonus pairings: Bill Adama/ Laura Roslin; Brenda Leigh Johnson/ Sharon Raydor Content Warning: Canon character deaths Word count: 684 Prompt: distant memory

They both dream of someone else, someone long gone. Neither one likes to talk about her, that one true love that they'll never see again. Instead, Brenda and Bill hold each other closer in a bed that still feels empty sometimes, even though they share it.

Brenda dreams of a woman with lush auburn hair and piercing green eyes. A woman who commands any room she walks into, with her Armani suits and click-clacking high heels. A woman who uses her glasses as a shield to keep others from getting too close. But Brenda knows what she looks like without them. She knows how compassionate and loving those emerald eyes can be … could be … were.

She dreams of the first time they met, as adversaries in the middle of the night in a hospital break room; she in a dark navy trench coat, Brenda in a bright pink one. Brunette and blonde, green eyes and brown, stilettos and kitten heels; on the surface they couldn't have been more different. In her dreams, the night does not end with them going to their separate corners though. In her dreams, they arrive much more quickly at the destination that took them years to reach in life: Brenda's lips on hers, Brenda's hands inside the neatly pressed button down shirt, her fingers clawing at Brenda's hips and pulling them closer, whispered confessions of love…

Sometimes, Brenda wakes up from the dreams with her cheeks soaked with tears. Sometimes, it's other parts of her that are soaked. Sometimes it's both. Either way, she finds Bill in the dark and holds on for dear life, because she doesn't think she could handle losing anyone else she loves.

Bill dreams of a thin woman wearing a stiff dark brown wig, her green eyes pale and tired. He doesn't know why, whenever he dreams of her, it's near the end, but it always is. A woman with quiet inner strength and boundless optimism, even though she had been dying the whole time he had known her.

He wishes he would dream about her from before the cancer really took hold… but she wasn't his then, not until her beautiful auburn hair had all fallen out, not until she stopped hiding behind her presidential facade and admitted that even dying leaders deserve a little happiness.

Sometimes, he dreams of the very end, when they sat in green grass, basking in the sun while he read to her. He dreams of his own ring — too big for her even before she began to waste away — hanging loosely from her finger. He buried that ring with her. He doesn't have another to give to Brenda, not that she would ever ask. Not that he would ever offer.

But they are happy, mostly. They make each other smile.

Brenda laughs when Bill's mustache tickles her skin. She insists she likes it though and won't let him shave it off. She's never been with anyone with a mustache before and it helps her to stay in the present, away from painful memories and loss.

Bill smiles lovingly and strokes his hand through her thick blonde curls when she falls asleep with her head in his lap, which she does every time he reads to her. He finds it endearing that she tries to listen, and enjoys the fact that his voice can lull her into an easy, dreamless sleep. She doesn't get nearly enough sleep and that worries him. Sleep is important, and he doesn't think he can bear to watch someone else he loves waste away in front of his eyes.

Sometimes, in bed, when neither of them is sleeping, Bill calls out for Laura. Brenda doesn't hold it against him because, as strange as it may seem, sometimes she cries out Sharon's name too. To anyone else, this might feel like a betrayal. But for two people who truly understand loss, they can recognize it for what it is: a declaration of love. And on these nights, when they drift off to sleep in each other's arms, their bed feels a little less empty.

[rd0265667]

Karina x Reader: A Star Wars Story

(Star Wars AU, post order 66. Also, not everything I wrote is according to canon, things were changed)

Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon @justme-idle

A/N: This is me just indulging in writing star wars and lightsaber fights lmao

Non star wars fans, BBY means Before Battle of Yavin. Think of it as BC. Important because years come in later

19 BBY

On the planet of Naevis, the stars twinkled brightly, but one shone through the night sky, falling to the ground. An escape pod, a girl cowering in the corner as she clutched her lightsaber close to her chest.

Karina was excited. She was looking forward to heading back to Coruscant for her trials to become a Jedi Knight, a rite of passage she was honoured to go through. Walking to the deck of the Venator Class Star Destroyer, she was accompanied by her Master, who had been guiding her in the ways of the force and being a Jedi, and behind them was Commander Tyras, in charge of the 29th Battalion. "General Bae, the Fleet is ready to jump into hyperspace." Tyras said, standing at attention next to Karina's master "For the last time Tyras, Joohyun or Irene is fine. Also, once we jump into hyperspace and reach Coruscant, tell the guys drinks are on me, they've worked hard." Irene said with a smile, patting Tyras on the back, who chuckled. "Alright General Irene, I'm sure the boys would love to hear that." Tyras said, before walking to the operator as Irene rolled her eyes, smiling as she bumped Tyras playfully From the side, Karina chuckled, observing the interaction. Her master was well known amongst the clones for being compassionate and caring, not only that, but was close with and cared for all her troopers, arguably as close as General Skywalker and the 501st.

Suddenly, a weird shift occured in the room, as Karina and her Master recoiled, both sensing something wrong in the force, Karina's master turning to her with a confused look, as Commander Tyras pulled out a comm pad.

"The time is now Commander Tyras. Execute Order 66."

The mechanical whirrs of rifles began priming around the two Jedi, both feeling a shift in the force, the light being snuffed out. Turning around, Irene noticed Tyras with his rifle to her, looking in confusion, before raising her lightsaber, deflecting the blaster bolt away, as she force pushed Tyras into the wall, knocking him out, dispatching the operator as well, before rushing to shut the blast doors.

"That door won't hold." She mumbled to herself, as she turned to Karina, still confused at what had just happened. "What's going on Master?" Karina asked, Irene shaking her head, pain searing through her head as the force alerted her to the fates of her Jedi comrades across the Galaxy. "I am unsure, Karina, but the clones have turned their backs on us, and I sense this is not an isolated incident. We must leave. We need to get to safe ground, and I'll reestablish communications with the Jedi Council. Come." Irene said, gesturing to Karina as they both ignited their lightsabers, taking a deep breath. The men they were about to kill were friends, once upon at least. As the blast doors open, blue and green lightsabers ignited as Irene and Karina fought through the star destroyer, their time fighting in the clone wars long preparing them for such a confrontation. As they finally reached the escape pods, the two of them saw 40 troopers waiting for them, overwhelming them as they were forced into a corner. What's worse was what Irene saw when she tried to catch her breath. "They've shot the fuel exhaust. The ship's going to explode... they're willing to kill themselves just to get us!" Irene exclaimed, before calming down. Turning the corner, she let out a strong force push, the clone troopers recoiling as the two charged to the escape pod. Karina readied the escape pod as Irene fended off the troopers "It's ready master!" Karina shouted out, Irene turning to join her in the pod, before reeling over, a blaster bolt to her back. "Master!" Karina shouted, deflecting another bolt to the troopers, but seeing hundreds of troopers closing in on them. "Go Karina, go to Naevis, there's a Jedi acquaintance there, find them, then stay safe. Go! I'll hold them off for you to escape" Irene shouted, Karina shaking her head. "No master, I won't leave you behind!" Karina shouted out, not looking back as she stood her ground, blaster bolt after blaster bolt bouncing off her emerald blade. "Go, Karina. May the Force be with you." With the force, Irene sent Karina flying into the escape pod, locking it and sending it off, before Irene turned, Karina forced to watch as Irene fought off as many troopers as she could, eventually dropping to the ground. "Master!" Karina shouted out helplessly, watching as her master's lifeless corpse collapsed, the escape pod accelerating away as the star destroyer exploded, the explosion catapulting Karina toward Naevis.

The clones betrayed the Jedi, the machinations of Chancellor Palpatine, now Emperor. Karina had received a message from the Jedi temple, sent by Master Kenobi, prompting her to stay away from Coruscant, as she stayed at the bar at Naevis, keeping her head low as she tried to find information on the mysterious Jedi acquaintance her master had. She did have one lead though, out in the forest, lived a mysterious figure who the townsfolk generally avoided. Armed with a torch, Karina trekked into the forest, nervous but hopeful to find another Jedi. As Karina entered the forest, she heard the trees ruffling, so she readied herself, lightsaber at the ready. "That's a dangerous weapon to be holding at this point of history, Jedi." Suddenly, Karina saw two lightsabers light up, an orange and purple lightsaber igniting, the two lightsabers flew at her, clashing with Karina's emerald blade as she adopted a defensive stance, a little shocked, as she had seen that combination only once before. Then, the lightsabers shut off, as Karina stood rooted at the ground, the green hue of her lightsaber the only source of light, illuminating where she stood as she turned nervously, trying her best to calm down, and to allow the force to guide her actions.

"You're slipping up Jimin. I thought you fought better than this!" The figure spoke, as Karina recoiled in shock. She hadn't gone by Jimin in years. Could it really be? Instinctively raising her lightsaber to the right, Karina blocked two swift lighsabers, the hue of the lightsabers illuminated the face of her assailant, someone who Karina had not saw in many years. "Y/N?" Karina asked incredulously "I'm touched you still remember me Karina. It's been years." You chuckled, both of you retracting your lightsabers. "You're the person my Master was talking about? Have you heard of what happened to the order?" Karina rambled off, not wanting to look you in the eye. "Qui Gon told me. This was bound to happen, Karina. The Jedi became soldiers, not peacekeepers, why do you think I left?" You chuckled slightly bitterly, bringing Karina to your hut. "I thought you left because of...us." Karina said, whispering the last word "Well, that didn't help." You shrugged, holding your hand out as the doors clicked, opening to allow your old friend and you to enter the hut.

37 BBY

Karina had just finished her lightsaber training with her class, Master Dooku just finishing teaching them basic lightsaber to lightsaber combat. She didn't understand the need for it though, there hadn't been a need for lightsaber combat since the last of the Sith disappeared. Now, learning blaster deflection was more important considering the threats Jedi faced on peace missions. Nevertheless, Master Dooku was relentless, training the younglings till their bones ached. As she left the hall though, she noticed another youngling, practicing with Master Qui Gon, who was once the padawan of Master Dooku. Inexplicably, Karina felt herself attracted to this youngling. The way they moved with the lightsaber was graceful yet forceful, the movements precise yet flexible. Karina hid behind the walls of the temple, looking on in awe at her fellow youngling. After about half an hour, the session finally ended, Master Qui Gon having to go on a mission with his Padawan. As Karina was about to retreat from her spot, the youngling spoke out. "You can come out now. I can sense you there." Slightly embarrassed, Karina slinked out of her hiding spot, as the youngling stuck their hand out. "I'm Y/N, do you wanna be friends?" You asked, Karina nodding as she shook your hand "I'm Karina, or Yoo Jimin"

33 BBY

"Focus, Karina-ah, your thoughts betray you." You teased as you stopped your blade just before her arm, having exploited a short moment of distraction by Karina. Karina rolled her eyes playfully, she held her lightsaber in the Ataru stance, as you stood opposite her, assuming the Soresu stance. She flipped into action, the acrobatic style of Ataru not matching up well against the defensive stone wall style of Soresu, as your use of Soresu allowed you an airtight defence, making it such that you were tiring Karina out. "Hey Y/N, I heard Master Plo was talking to you recently, what was that about?" Karina asked as she locked blades with you, both locked in a stalemate. "Master Plo is thinking of taking me as his Padawan." You replied, a force push sending Karina off guard before moving to strike to her head, as Karina parried the blow, using the force to enhance her jump, flipping over you and swinging a wide blow of her lightsaber. You dodged backward, before the two of you began circling each other once again. "Does that mean I won't see you anymore?" Karina asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "Not as often, I'll still be back at the temple, just not as often since I'll be on missions with Master Plo." You replied, swinging your blade as you looked intently at her. Karina leapt at you once again, her blade outstretched to strike down on you, but you deflected it, and with a swift kick, disarmed her of her weapon and sent her to the ground. Looking at each other, the both of you chuckled, as you helped Karina up, force pulling her lightsaber to you. When you handed the lightsaber to Karina, you both felt your hands lingering, before finally pulling away. "I've got to go, Master Qui Gon wants a chat with me." You bowed, before bolting out of the room. Karina's eyes lingered on you, watching as you ran to consult with the old master.

"Are you alright, Y/N? I sense your thoughts on another." Qui Gon questioned, as the two of you walked through the Jedi archives. "Is it that female youngling you always mention?" Qui Gon asked, as you nodded. "I've been thinking of her more than normal, but I know it's wrong... the Jedi Code for-" You lamented, turning to talk to Qui Gon "Is not always right, Y/N. The Jedi Code may forbid personal attachment, but to grow attached to others is human, to love someone, is human. Attachment is not a scary thing, or a path to the dark side, as Master Yoda would put it. As long as you know to balance your attachment, you will not succumb to the dark side." Qui Gon explained "I do not understand, master. How do you be attached to someone, but not fear to lose them?" You asked, the two of you entering a room to keep away prying ears "Treasure them while you have them, and rejoice when they return to the force. You can mourn them, you can miss them, that is natural. But do not allow the negative emotions to overcome you." Qui Gon explained, patting you on the shoulder. "Death is a natural thing, Y/N, and once you accept that, you will never succumb to the dark side."

32 BBY

You were preparing to leave on your first mission with Master Plo, chatting with Karina when the news came in. Master Qui Gon and his Padawan Obi Wan Kenobi came to blows with the first Sith Lord seen in decades, and in the confrontation, the Sith Zabrak named Maul struck down Master Qui Gon. "Are you okay, Y/N? I know you too were close." Karina asked, her hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. "It is fine, Karina. Master Qui Gon is now one with the force." You answered solemnly, placing your hand on your heart, mourning a master, and an unlikely friend. "I must leave now, Karina, I do not want to leave Master Plo waiting." You said, brushing yourself off and heading to find the Kel Dor Jedi Master. "Wait, Y/N!" Karina stopped you, as you turned around. "I heard from Master Plo you'll be heading to Ilum to construct a new lightsaber?" She asked, to which you nodded. Karina then took a small jewel from her robes."This is a jewel from my home planet, I want you to have it. You could add it to your lightsaber hilt, and hopefully it protects you." Karina nervously smiled, her hand stuck out. Truth is, Karina was nervous. She was already worried about you at going out to be a Jedi, the dangers you'd face, but her worries were tempered by the fact that you were more than capable on your own and that you had Master Plo to protect you. But now...with Sith Lords back, capable of defeating extremely talented duelist like Master Qui Gon...what would become of you? Looking at it, you smiled, hugging the girl who had her arms outstretched. "Thank you, Karina. It's a good thing to remember you by." You held the jewel gently in your hand, backing away from Karina. Karina wanted you to stay. Wanted to keep you close. Keep you safe. She didn't know what this feeling was, but she didn't like it. But she knew she couldn't stop you. "May the Force be with you, my friend." Karina smiled, bowing to you as you bowed back

27 BBY

Karina had not talked to you for 4 years, and Karina had been plagued with thoughts of you. She was losing sleep too. She had heard that Master Plo and you were fighting a terrorist splinter group on Thera Minor, and there had been radio silence from the two of you. Looking around, Karina finds a master to seek council, and as fate, or the force, would will it, Master Yoda came walking down the temple, observing the training "Master Yoda, could I seek council?" Karina asked, bowing to the little green master. He nodded in agreement, as the two walked to the training room.

"To discuss, what would you like?" Master Yoda enquired, as the two sat "I'm conflicted, Master Yoda. I feel myself getting attached to someone, and I'm constantly in fear for them." Karina disclosed, as Master Yoda listened intently, running his hand through the remnants of his wispy white hair "Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is." Yoda said "So what must I do, Master Yoda..." Karina asked nervously "You must let go of everything you fear to lose." Yoda explained, Karina looking uneasy now. She had been close to you for 6 years, more than half her life. How could she just let go of you...but she didn't have a choice, she thought. It was the Jedi Code after all "Thank you, Master Yoda." Karina bowed, before walking away

23 BBY

Karina fidgeted nervously at the landing pads. After 9 years, you were finally returning to the Jedi Temple with Master Plo, at a time that she was there too. How were you going to be like? Were you going to have changed? These thoughts plagued Karina's mind, all the thoughts being wiped as she saw the ship carrying the two Jedi. Seeing Karina at the landing pad, you leaped off the ship, running and throwing your friend into an embrace. "Karina-ah, I missed you so much!" You said as you felt the girl tense up under your hug. Karina smiled, she didn't want to but she was still attached to you. You and her had not interacted for more than half the time you had known each other, yet both of you felt like friends who could and would talk everyday. As Karina walked with you to the training hall, she noticed your lightsaber, replaced with a double bladed lightsaber, with a clasp in the middle that seemingly allowed the lightsaber staff to be split into two separate lightsabers. On the clasp laid Karina's jewel, your lucky charm on missions, though the Masters would claim that there was no such thing as luck. Whenever you were tired or down, seeing the jewel would remind you of her, and that was enough to keep you going. As if sensing Karina's eyes on the lightsaber, you took the lightsaber up, handing it to Karina as she fiddled with the staff, playing around with the handle. "The jewel was the glue of my hilt Karina, thank you for gifting it to me." You explained, Karina nodding a little in embarrassment Hoping to relive an old past time, you gestured to the sparring room, the sparring room the two of you met in, Karina looking on and nodding in agreement. Standing on the opposite sides of the room, Karina ignited her lightsaber, adopting the Ataru stance that she had been utilising for lightsaber combat since the beginning. Opposing her, you ignited your lightsaber staff, shocking Karina as one side shone orange, the other side shone purple, adopting the Soresu stance. "Orange and purple?" Karina questioned. She had not seen an orange lightsaber before, and a purple lightsaber was only ever used by Master Windu. "It's weird, I know. When I bonded to the crystals on Ilum, the crystals seemed to react weirdly. Master Plo didn't understand it, but he said that it was the will of the force, and that the crystal probably sensed something special in me."

The duel commenced, Karina utilising the force to boost her speed, leaping over you and unleashed a flurry of attacks. With the extra coverage provided to you by the length of the Lightsaber staff, it amplified the strength of your defence, as you rotated the staff about you, blocking and parrying the strikes, biding your time as you engaged in a war of attrition.  "Karina, I have something to tell you." You said, the two of you circling each other and thinking of a new way to attack. "When I was with Master Plo on those missions, I couldn't stop thinking abo-" As if sensing what you were about to say, Karina wasn't having any of it, as she attempted to redouble her efforts. She unleashed another barrage of strikes, her lightsaber twirling about in a graceful dance. Karina also used the Force in the fight, probing you for weaknesses with Force pushes and pulls, trying to find a weak spot in your defence. It seemed to work, as your defence started lowering, Karina charged at you to exploit it, but in a flurry, you detached your lightsaber staff to two lightsabers, before charging at Karina with a new stance that she had only seen one person use. "Vaapad?" Karina questioned, as she was put on the back foot, parrying and ducking from your new aggressive advance. Vaapad was a style of Lightsaber combat that blurred the line between the Light and the Dark side of the Force, drawing on the use of both the Dark side of the force as much as the Light, channeling it into a controlled aggression. It also utilises the opponents aggression against themself. "I picked it up from Master Billaba when she helped Master Plo and I on a relief mission at Plaus Prime." You explained, your lightsabers at the ready now. Karina upped the intensity of her combat, Karina's acrobatic movements and precise strikes danced in harmony with your fierce and unpredictable attacks, a battle of finesse and raw powers. Switching it up, in the middle of your charge, you reattach your two lightsabers back into a singular lightsaber staff. Flummoxed by the new complexity the staff brought about to your Vaapad style, Karina stumbled, and while she was able to deal with some blows, she was eventually disarmed by you, as the two of you smiled, enjoying the fight as you kept your lightsaber, the two of you laying on the floor of the sparring room.

"So, Karina, as I was saying, when I was gone, I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I...I think we're meant to be." You confessed, turning to face Karina. "What are you saying?" Karina asked, an uneasy feeling settling in her chest as she knew what you meant. "I love you, Karina, and I want to be together with you. If you'll have me." You said, blushing slightly. "No." Karina monotonously said, to which you recoiled a little. "The Jedi code forbids our attachment. We're taught detachment, lest we stray from the Light side."  "But what about being happy? Finding love?" You asked, slightly disappointed and exasperated by the staunch belief Karina adopted. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Emotions like love cloud our judgement, and we as Jedi are the defenders of the people, that is the first, and only priority."  "...I understand. I must go now. Master Plo needs me with him to debrief the council." You said, disappointed, slinking away from the room, leaving Karina laying on the ground, an empty feeling permeating through her chest.

22 BBY(After the Battle of Geonosis)

The Jedi were in disarray. They suffered many losses at the hands of the Seperatist battle droids, and they were now pulled into an intergalactic war. Karina was taken as Padawan by Master Bae, and was assigned to the 29th Battalion. As Karina and Master Bae prepared for deployment to the planet of Saleucami, Karina heard whispers of Jedi leaving the order. One name stuck out to her, of course. You. Slightly guilt stricken at pushing you away, she stood there, a little stunned. "What's wrong, Karina?" Master Bae asked, worried at her padawan's demeanour. "No, Master Bae." Karina bowed, as the two went to meet Commander Tyras

19 BBY(Back in the present)

Karina sat warily at the table, still in shock of seeing you again. You presented her with some tea, as you closed the door behind you, walking to your room to repair the cryo stasis tank still laying in it. "What have you been doing all these years?" Karina asked, nervously sipping the tea. You explained the training you had been doing, helping from the shadows so as to not give away your position, but as you explained, all Karina could think about was the regret that swelled in her whenever she looked at you. Her attachment to you was forbidden by the Jedi code. But that same Jedi code allowed a Sith lord to grow right under the Jedi order's nose, for the Sith Lord to now be the commanding power in the galaxy. Not just that, the same code that pushed the chosen one into the arms of the dark side. So, was the Jedi code always right? Sensing Karina's inner conflict, you turned, sitting down beside her as you patted her on the back. "I missed you, Karina." You said with a smile, the same smile that melted Karina, it always did. "I'm sorry for...then..." Karina muttered, as you shook your head "You believed in the Jedi code, that is your right, and I had no right to force or pressure you." You replied, getting up to prime some machines "Maybe I was wrong." Karina spoke up, stopping you in your track. Turning around, you saw Karina with a small bittersweet smile, walking up to you and throwing you into an embrace. "I should have done this ages ago." Karina whispered, as you smiled. "I love you, Y/N." Karina whispered into your neck, as you reciprocated, a smile etched across your face.

18 BBY

"I'm home honey!" Karina shouted out as she entered the home, setting down some supplies she had acquired from the town in Naevis, but hearing you talk to someone, a voice Karina recognised as the deceased Master Qui Gon "Vader is coming for you, Y/N. He knows you're here." "There's no point running, is there?" Your voice rang out, as Karina tensed up from the conversation. She had heard talks about a new killing machine who worked for the emperor. He found them? "He's turned the civilian population as hostages against other survivors. He will not relent till he takes you. I'm afraid it might be time."  "I understand, Master Qui Gon. I'll enact protocol refuge for Karina, at least she'll be safe. Thank you for the warning." "May the Force be with you, my friend."

Walking out of your room, you were greeted by Karina with a conflicted look on her face.  "You heard that didn't you?" You asked, as Karina went to a small compartment of the house, pulling her old lightsaber out. "I'm not letting you get yourself killed, Y/N. We can take whoever's coming, together." Karina said, as you stared worriedly at her. "We can't beat Vader, Karina. Please. I want to at least keep you safe."  Shaking her head, Karina tossed you your lightsaber. Instead of preparing yourselves for the fight, you instead pulled Karina out of the house, laying a picnic mat on the ground as the two of you held each other, understanding that should the battle go wrong, this was their last moments together. Laying on the mat, you held Karina close to you, reminiscing on the moments you two had together. "I love you, Karina, you know that right?" You whispered "I love you too Y/N." She whispered back, trying to calm herself down for the impending storm. Karina got up, suddenly feeling a little weird. "I'm sorry Karina. This is for the best. I'll see you soon." You said, holding Karina's body before she fell.  Sensing the presence of Vader near the planet, you bolted to your cryo stasis pod. Laying Karina's unconscious body in the pod, you looked at her lovingly for the last time, placing a light kiss on her forehead, before engaging protocol refuge, the stasis pod closing, then falling beneath the surface.

You sat at the middle of your home, meditating with your lightsaber on the ground before you, as you heard a mechanical breathing, your door flinging away as the Dark Lord of the Sith, clad in his black armour walked through the door.

Opening your eyes, you got up, facing Vader as you stared each other down. Vader ignited his crimson lightsaber, it hummed ominously in the darkness, as you held your lightsaber staff close to your face, touching your forehead to the jewel gifted to you by the love of your life all those years ago. 

Taking up the usual Soresu stance, you took a defensive stance as Vader began his assault. With precise movements, you deflected Vader's powerful strikes, channeling the Force to anticipate and neutralize each attack. You spun your lightsaber staff with elegance and control, its dual blades creating a formidable barrier against Vader's relentless assault. Vader pressed on with his assault, each strike more forceful than the last, taking it's toll on your defence as you were slowly overwhelmed by the sheer strength of the Dark Lord.

Sensing the futility of a war of attrition, you detached your lightsaber staff into two lightsabers, adopting the Vaapad style, unleashing a flurry of slashes and blows that surprised the Dark Lord, but not nearly enough to take him down, as Vader adapted to the new speed of the assault, going blow for blow with you.  Your lightsabers were a blur, as the speed of your assault clashed with the sluggish but still powerful blows of Vader

Slowly, Vader's experience and sheer power began to take its toll. Your relentless assault could not match the dark lord's indomitable strength. With a resounding strike, Vader disarmed you, causing your lightsabers to clatter to the ground.  As you fell to the ground, the Dark Lord held his lightsaber to your head. "I sense great potential in you, Y/N. Join the emperor, and he will grant you mercy, if you join the empire as an inquisitor." He said, his robotic voice filling the room. With one last spurt of energy, you force pushed Vader back, drawing your lightsabers to you once again. "Not while I draw breath, Skywalker." You replied, as Vader stood opposed silent but with killing intent "Draw your last." Vader replied, charging at you. You parried his first strike, dodging the second, but the third found it's way through your abdomen. As you fell to the ground, you clasped the jewel in your hand, your life flashing before your eyes, but mostly, it was her. The first time you saw Karina hiding behind the pillar, the duels you had, the meals and talks you had, the way she'd look at you and told you that she loved you. "I love you, Karina." You whispered hoarsely, before disappearing into thin air. Looking on in confusion, Vader stood, staring that the now empty cloak on the ground, before turning around, leaving the room.

??? BBY/ABY?

Karina shot up from her pod, looking around worriedly as she saw two unknown figures, one male and one female. Pulling her lightsaber up, she questioned, "Who are you?" "Calm down, my name is Luke Skywalker. This is my wife, Mara Jade. We found your location inside a holocron." He explained, as he handed you the holocron. "We came in search of a Jedi, we'll need help in reestablishing the Jedi order." Mara Jade explained, as Karina looked in confusion. "The empire fell? How many years have I been asleep?" Karina questioned, as Luke nodded. "40 years." Luke said, as Karina lowered her head. "We found this in your pod. We'll give you some space." Luke said, as both of them left the room. With a wave of her hand, the holocron opened, as a hologram of you showed up. "Hey Rina. If you're seeing this, it means Vader caught up with us, but at least you made it out safe. That's good. I'm sorry it had to end that way, but I had to protect you. I have faith that the light side will return, and when it does, they'll need you to help, and I know you're more than capable. So go, my love, help the next generation of Jedi. And don't forget. I will always love you, Karina, and know that even now, as I return to the force, I still love you."  Karina looked lovingly at your figure, tears slowly streaming down her face. Looking around the room, she saw it. Your ruined lightsabers. Covered by the dust and rubble. Karina walked over to the lightsabers, picking them up as she stared, feeling herself beginning to sob. Sitting amidst the rubble, she ran her fingers across the joining piece of the lightsabers of her beloved, her gift to you all those years ago. Her mind flickered to every moment you shared together, her grip around the lightsaber tightening in anguish. In her mind, she had just shared her last picnic with you. The last memory she had of you, flashing back and forth across her mind. Carrying the lightsabers, she went to the bed the two of you shared at the home, sitting down, before feeling a presence next to her. From the side of her eye, a blue hue sat. Sharing a tender smile, she whispered "Hello my love."

A/N2: Sorry guys, this might not be the kind of fic you're used to from me, I just wanted to indulge in writing a Star Wars universe Fic. Hope you enjoyed it regardless!

[agent13thepretender]

I wrote this a loooooong time ago and just never posted it. Cobra Kai in general has always given me early 2000s Power Rangers vibes. Like I keep waiting for a monster or a Megazord to appear. Like imagine a Giant Kreese stomping all over the valley? Hilarious! Anyway, here’s my take on which character would be which Ranger, updated of course because of the new season.

Miguel - Red Ranger

The one who started it all. Confidence growing as his skills did. He’s a leader with a strong moral compass. Despite being mislead a few times he ultimately tries to do what’s right and just. Miguel is quick for action when something is going down. Others in his group look to him on how to proceed in any given situation. His fighting style is equal parts passion and discipline. He will not accept defeat but will extend mercy when it’s clear he’s won.

Eli - Blue Ranger to Indigo Ranger

Former bullied kid. Former baddie. Total badass. He started out as a Blue Ranger due to coming across as a second in command to Miguel. Due to being corrupted by Kreese, I think Blue is a little to clean for Eli. Indigo is one of the Ranger colors reserved for rangers who start at a dark place and eventually switch to fight for the light whilst staying true to who they are. Eli is an example and a cautionary tale. He’s proof that redemption is possible. He is a strong leader and passionate. His fighting style does have a brutality to it but in recent seasons has learned to restrain himself. He does well as a second in command to anyone he holds in high regard.

Demetri - Non Ranger to Blue Ranger

Probably loves being on this list until he realizes that Power Ranger stuff is dangerous. He’s on the edges of the karate drama but eventually gets pulled in. Feeling he has no choice, he involves himself fully to protect himself and to aid his friends. Whilst not being a strong fighter he has a strong heart and mind. He’s grounding in unbelievable situations. Loyal and faithful in his friends no matter which path they fall in. His philosophy for fighting is only when completely necessary.

Sam - Pink Ranger

Words to live by: Respect the Pink. Sam has the soft and graceful nature most Pink Rangers are known for whilst still having an unexpected strength to them. She is stubborn and it takes a lot to get her to budge on some things. Kind and compassionate but not easy to get over a grudge. Despite her shortcomings, she strives for understanding between her peers and within herself. She is open to new styles and combines them to maximize her chance for success. To the ones she loves, she will protect them til the end.

Tory - Yellow Ranger

Yellow Rangers are tenacious and hard working and Tory is no exception. Tory isn’t afforded softness and mercy, she must be sharp and hard. She is territorial and will protect what’s her’s with all the ferocity and power she has. She gives it her all. Her strong sense of integrity and struggle make her a hard worker and very skilled. She is not without a empathy or a sense of right and wrong. Her style is precise and devastating, with a great skill of resourcefulness. A great asset to anyone who has earned her trust and respect.

Robbie - Specialty Dark Ranger to Green Ranger

Now when I say Green Ranger, I mean Tommy Oliver level Green Ranger. Iykyk. Something about Robbie or maybe just Tanner Buchanan seems so silently powerful. A soft power almost. He’s patient, observant and rarely strikes first. He has wide knowledge of various styles due to being taught by various senseis. He’s strongly empathetic and is heavily guided by his emotions. His wondering from place to place and delinquency, previous seasons (especially season 1) and subsequent influence by Kreese and Silver gave him a darker energy. I think once he came to terms with himself at the end of season 4 (after witnessing how he negatively influenced Kenny Payne) his Green Ranger Era Began. His style was previously well disciplined but brutal. He now has a more controlled, even style of fighting with just as much passion but with plenty of hard earned restraint. And despite his history, you won’t find anyone with a purer heart.

Johnny - Veteran Red Ranger

Probably the most chaotic and irresponsible Red Ranger but definitely a Red Ranger. Johnny is a leader no matter how you look at it. More so a leader of action versus strategy but still a leader. His methods are questionable but he guarantees results. His intentions are not always clear but he undoubtedly cares for others deeply, including his students. He is passionate, protective, stubborn, and a bit unaware of himself. His fighting style is powerful, precise and brutal. Remember this man really loves the people he loves. You mess with one of his, he’ll mess you up worse.

Daniel - Veteran Blue Ranger

Yeah I feel this doesn’t need much explanation. Wise, discipline, strong moral compass, integrity, passion, lead by emotions, and a leader. His passion, moral compass, and emotions can sometimes blind him and carry him away. He fights not just for himself but for his students, friends, and his family. He is stubborn in his ideals but upon seeing reason is open to new ideologies. His fighting style is restrained with years of discipline but not lacking in power. He may not always get it right but you can count on him to mean well.

Chozen - Former Bad Guy to Veteran Black Ranger

Chozen was a bit difficult to decipher because he was a bad guy until he was brought back in Cobra Kai. He’s wise but also very silly with a young heart and soul. He was as bad as you could get and now he’s the first to offer a helping hand or fist. Despite his goofy antics, his presence can be very grounding in times of conflict. On the flip side he could also be the first to attack without being fully informed. He’s loyal and gracious to those who have given him a second chance. His fighting style is a mix between Johnny and Daniel - equal amounts brutality and hard earned discipline.

[laurelslegacy]

Rebel’s shorts:

Will it turn into a whole story? Oh likely, most likely a lemon chap.

Just been moving and not really able to work on anything at all sans packing.

Way too hot:

“AGH!” It was accompanied by the crunch of yet ANOTHER datapad being destroyed,the string of curses in a wide range of languages accompanying it.

Kallus took a slow deep breath “What is wrong Garazeb?” clearly the use for the full name paired with the lack of compassionate tone was telling to his lack of care. Then again there was FEW creatures that could handle this heat, humans least of all but all furred beings had been relived and yet there was Garazeb, one moment BOASTING how Lasat were from a desert planet and now unable to handle the heat of Yavin 4. Having collapsed three times from heat exhaustion and included at least two hours of IV hydration its was quite clear Zeb was not handling the heat. They had not taken into account the thickness and the weight of the wet heat felt.

Kallus was as sympathetic as he could be. His furred lover had to hate this place, yet never quite expressed it. On the Glimmer Kallus did his best to keep it cool but that required fuel…

He found that Zeb more often than naught had a few frozen packs with him. Happy to snuggle in close so long as he had the pack with him.

But there was the “incident” after many arguments and lectures-

Teeth bared and the desk thrown with inhuman power, Zeb snarled.

“Back down” was the Green Twi’lek’s command. Hera Sendulla had her eyes squarely on Zeb, nearly half his size but her command was not wavering.

Zeb’s nostrils flared, he growled but backed down.

“Go see Kallus.” was her only command. There was a growl, deep, dark.”Go see Kallus.” she reiterated and with a snort Zeb relinquished.

The story was told by Sabine later, Garazeb had returned with a water soaked blanket in and Dropped it on the Twi’lek yelling “that’s what it’s like!”

And the response, well she had suspended Zeb for a week on the Glimmer.

“Some of us still have work.” Kallus rose naked from the shared bed, ice packs scattered about like confetti to keep the two cooler. Zeb grumbles “and I expect supper to be ready.”

“ I ain’t yer maid.” The grumbled sounds of an already panting and heated Lasat came from the bed.

“Actually “ Kallus paused to pull up a foot and adjust his blaster straps “ as you are kicked off the Ghost, you are.” It earned him a gutheral growl Kallus only chuckled at.

[gcthvile]

Aeron

Name: Aeron

Gender: Male

Age: 87 (young adult)

Race: Half-elf, Half-human

Occupation: Ranger and archer.

Backstory

Aeron was born in the deep, ancient forests of Middle-earth to a human father, Haleth, and an elven mother, Lúthien. His parents' union was a rare and controversial one, met with disdain and suspicion from both human and elven communities. Despite this, Aeron's early years were filled with the love and teachings of his parents. From his father, a seasoned ranger, Aeron learned the art of archery, survival skills, and the resilience of men. Haleth was a stern yet loving father who instilled in Aeron a sense of duty and honor.

Lúthien, on the other hand, was a wise and compassionate elf who nurtured Aeron's connection to nature. She taught him the elven traditions, languages, and the ancient songs of their people. From her, Aeron inherited his affinity for the natural world, a deep respect for all living things, and the grace that came from his elven blood. Under her guidance, he also learned to heal wounds with herbs and practiced the subtle magic that was the birthright of the elves.

Growing up, Aeron often felt the sting of isolation due to his mixed heritage. Both humans and elves viewed him as an outsider, leading him to find solace in the wilderness. The forests became his sanctuary, and he honed his skills as a tracker and ranger, blending the best of both his lineages. His white hair and piercing green eyes became a symbol of his unique heritage, and his prowess with the bow became renowned among those who knew of him.

Despite the prejudice he faced, Aeron was determined to bridge the gap between the two worlds he straddled. He developed a philosophy centered on unity and understanding, believing that the strengths of both races could be harnessed to protect Middle-earth from the looming threats.

Aeron's life took a significant turn when he was 50, still a young adult by elven standards but mature by human reckoning. During a scouting mission with his father, their party was ambushed by orcs. Though they fought valiantly, Haleth was mortally wounded. With his dying breath, he entrusted Aeron with a mission: to protect the lands from the rising darkness and to always remember the honor of their lineage.

This loss profoundly impacted Aeron, driving him into a period of deep mourning and self-reflection. He wandered the forests alone, grappling with his grief and the burden of his father's final wish. During this time, Aeron had visions of his ancestors, both human and elven, who guided him and strengthened his resolve. He emerged from this period more determined than ever to fulfill his father's last command.

Personality

Aeron embodies a blend of quiet strength and deep introspection, traits shaped by his unique heritage and life experiences. His usual demeanor is calm and composed, exuding a quiet confidence that comes from his years as a ranger. This calmness makes him a natural leader and a steady presence in times of crisis, able to think clearly and act decisively.

He is fiercely loyal to those he cares about, placing a high value on relationships built on trust and mutual respect. Aeron’s loyalty extends beyond personal ties; he feels a deep-seated duty to protect the lands and peoples of Middle-earth, a commitment inspired by his father's dying wish. His sense of honor is unwavering, guiding his actions and decisions. He strives to act with integrity and fairness, often mediating disputes between humans and elves.

Aeron’s serene demeanor masks a reservoir of intense emotions. He is introspective and contemplative, often retreating into solitude to reflect on his experiences and the path ahead. This introspection is a double-edged sword; while it allows him to remain grounded and self-aware, it also makes him prone to bouts of melancholy and self-doubt, particularly when haunted by memories of his father’s death and the burdens of his mixed heritage.

When pushed to his limits, Aeron can exhibit a dangerous side. While he values honor, he is not above breaking his own moral code if it means protecting his loved ones or achieving a greater good. In such moments, his actions can be ruthless and uncompromising, revealing a fierce determination that can surprise even those who know him well.

Strengths & weaknesses.

Strengths

Aeron is a skilled archer and tracker, able to navigate the wilderness with ease. His years spent in the forests of Middle-earth have honed his abilities to an exceptional level. He possesses heightened senses and agility, a gift from his elven heritage, allowing him to move silently and detect subtle changes in his environment. Aeron is also a quick thinker and strategist, able to assess situations and come up with effective solutions on the spot. His combination of human resilience and elven grace makes him a formidable ranger and protector.

Weaknesses

Aeron's dual heritage can sometimes make him feel like an outsider, struggling to fully belong to either the human or elven communities. This sense of not fitting in can weigh heavily on him, causing moments of isolation and loneliness. Additionally, his tendency to keep his emotions in check can lead to internal conflict and self-doubt. While his calm demeanor is often an asset, it also means he can bottle up his feelings, leading to occasional bursts of frustration or despair when the pressure becomes too much.

Aeron’s desire to always do what is right can sometimes lead him to be overly critical of himself and others. He holds himself to high standards and expects the same from those around him, which can strain relationships and create tension. When he witnesses injustice or cruelty, Aeron can be quick to anger, often acting impulsively without considering the consequences. This impulsiveness can lead to reckless decisions that put himself and others at risk. Additionally, Aeron's fear of failure can hold him back at times, causing him to doubt his own abilities and hesitate in critical moments.

Aeron possesses heightened senses, agility, and speed due to his elven heritage. These enhanced abilities allow him to move silently and react swiftly to threats, making him an exceptional scout and ranger. He is an expert archer, able to hit targets with pinpoint accuracy even in the most challenging conditions. Aeron is also skilled in hand-to-hand combat and swordsmanship, able to defend himself effectively in close-quarters combat. His blend of elven grace and human resilience makes him a versatile and formidable warrior, capable of adapting to various combat situations.

Habits & Likes.

Habits

Aeron has a habit of running his fingers through his hair when he's deep in thought, a gesture he picked up from his elven mother. This small, unconscious action often signals to those who know him that he is pondering something serious. He is also known for his love of storytelling, often regaling his friends with tales of his adventures in the wild. His stories are filled with vivid details and a touch of humor, making him a beloved companion around the campfire. Aeron also carries a small pendant made from a rare elven gem, a keepsake from his mother that serves as a reminder of his heritage. The pendant is his most cherished possession, often found clutched in his hand during moments of introspection or uncertainty.

Likes.

Aeron enjoys spending time in the forest, listening to the sounds of nature and feeling the breeze on his face. The forest is his sanctuary, a place where he feels most at peace and connected to his roots. He has a deep appreciation for elven music and poetry, finding solace in their haunting melodies and beautiful verses. These artistic expressions remind him of his mother's teachings and the serenity of his elven heritage. Aeron also has a fondness for collecting rare feathers from the birds of the forest. He often uses these feathers to adorn his arrows, symbolizing his connection to nature and adding a personal touch to his weaponry. Additionally, he has a habit of humming elven tunes while on patrol, finding comfort and focus in the melodies of his heritage. This habit not only soothes him but also serves as a subtle reminder of the peaceful and harmonious aspects of his elven lineage.

hope you like my little elf boi 🥰

@missstrawbs2001 @jackiequick @blueboirick @cherrysft @meiramel @purpleprincessonfyre @ask-missparker @askstevella @therealdaydreamstark @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @gaminggirlsstuff

[virtie333]

Day 8 - Life Day Damerey Celebration

Prompt: Future

Summary: Rey has a vision of her future

Warnings: There be smut ahead! Nothing too explicit, but you have been warned. MDNI please.

AO3

Rey had been meditating for almost an hour when the vision came. 

Visions were rare, and more often than not they were unsettling, but she let them come because she knew they were important to her training. They were visions of the future, Leia told her. But she had to remember that the future was not set, and that she couldn’t depend on these visions to foresee her fate. While some of these visions might come true, most would not, if only because she was aware of what might happen and was able to prevent it, either consciously or unconsciously. Many of her visions included lightsaber duels with Kylo Ren, and a few truly disturbing visions brought nightmarish images of one or more of her friends suffering or dying. 

Today’s vision was not like anything she had ever had before. 

She was in a unfamiliar setting. It was outside, of that she was sure, and she had a sense that she had never been there before. There was green, a lot of it, and the sound of running water. It was very warm, and she knew this because she was unclothed and not at all cold. Despite the heat, she shivered as she felt the touch of hand on her bare back. Fingers trailed up her spine, then swept back down. She heard herself gasp.

The vision transitioned and she found herself on her back, the grass soft underneath her. The weight of another person was on top of her, but she felt no discomfort. In fact, she felt amazing. Her whole body was tingling, and her heart was racing in excitement. A strange pressure was building between her legs and she ached for more of it. She arched her hips upward, pushing against the weight on top of her. It was a man, she thought. He was as naked as she, his heated skin pressed tightly against hers. It felt marvelous, but she wanted more. 

She felt his breath on her neck, and then his mouth. His tongue, warm and wet, laved her throat. She moaned. His hand was on her bare breast, kneading it gently. Again, she arched, begging for more. More of what, she didn’t know. But she was certain he could give it to her.

Suddenly, the pressure between her legs changed as he penetrated her most private area. The fullness was shocking yet familiar. Rey had never been intimate with a man, but in the vision it wasn’t new. This was her lover, and he was well-known to her. 

But who was he?

Rey tried to control the vision, but already knew it was impossible. It wasn’t a dream, after all. It was the future. A future that may or may not happen. 

Suddenly, the man on top of her pushed his upper body off of her, bracing himself on his arms above her, and she found herself staring up into the intense brown eyes of Poe Dameron. 

Her heart racing, Rey pulled herself out of the vision. 

Poe? 

How could it be? The man had never looked at her as anything but a colleague, an ally. They were barely even friends, despite sharing a bond with both Finn and BB-8. It didn’t matter that Rey always felt something different when she was around him. That she felt self-conscious and immediately started wondering how she looked and smelled when she was in his presence, something she never concerned herself with when around others. She wanted him to like her, to notice her, but he never treated her any different than any of the other fighters under his command. She may have a bit more status due to her being a Jedi-in-training, but otherwise she was nothing special to him. 

Then why was the Force telling her they could possibly be much, much more?

Unless she was just a fling? She shook her head, her brain shutting down that idea immediately. Poe Dameron didn’t do flings. If there was one thing she was sure about him, it was that he took his relationships seriously. He was compassionate and loyal and encouraging and protective and… 

Rey took a deep breath and lowered her face into her hands, rubbing her temples after a moment. 

The fact was, she liked him a lot more than he liked her. 

“Hey!”

The soft greeting startled her, and she turned her head to find the subject of her thoughts standing a short distance away. 

“Sorry to bother you,” Poe told her, his expression apologetic. “I’m about ready to head out with Snap and Karè on a supply run and wanted to ask if you would look out for Beebs?” 

BB8. Their shared ‘child,’ she though sarcastically. “Or course,” she answered, her voice rough. “BB’s always welcome to keep me company.”

The ball droid squealed happily as he rolled out from behind Poe, and Rey gave him a genuine smile. She looked back up at Poe, who was watching her, his expression serious. 

In fact, the intensity in his eyes was akin to what she had seen from him in her vision. 

She shivered and her skin began tingling.

Poe blinked suddenly. He cleared his throat as he looked away. “Great. I shouldn’t be long.” He nodded, but wouldn’t meet her eyes. His whole demeanor screamed panic. 

Rey frowned. “Okay,” she said softly. 

He nodded again and turned away from her. 

“Poe?”

He stopped, looking back at her. “Yeah?”

“Be careful.” 

His expression changed. Gone was the intensity from earlier. Gone was the nervousness she had sensed before he turned away. Instead, a soft warmth filled his beautiful eyes. “I will.” He glanced at his droid, then looked at her again, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Then he turned again and walked away. 

BB8 trilled a short little song. 

Rey looked at the droid, surprised. “What do you mean he wants you to look out for me? I thought I was looking out for you?” 

BB8 gave a short little ‘snort.’  

Rey looked back toward the pilot’s retreating back. Most of her visions wouldn’t come to pass, she knew. 

But she truly hoped this one would.

[purestxblood]

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 –

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 –

beauteous, breathtaking, comely, dazzling, divine, enchanting, exquisite, fetching, gorgeous, handsome, heavenly, incredible, iridescent, lovely, luminescent, luminous, lustrous, magnetic, magnificent, opalescent, radiant, ravishing, striking, stunning.

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 –

alert, attractive, beady, blazing, bloodshot, bright, bulging, compelling, crusty, dancing, droopy, drowsy, empty, expressive, filmy, flashing, glazed, gleaming, glistening, glittering, glowing, goggle, gooey, googly, guileless, hard, hardened, heavy, heavy-lidded, hidden, hypnotic, icy, limpid, narrowed, peering, penetrating, piercing, pretty, puffy, red-rimmed, rheumy (red & watery), riveting, runny, scrunched, shaded, shimmering, shining, shiny, shuttered, slit, soft, soulful, sparkling, sparkly, steady, swollen, sunken, tear-filled, teary, tired, twinkling, vapid, watchful, watering, wide awake, wild-eyed.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐝𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 –

ablaze, alluring, angelic, beguiling, bewitching, captivating, come-hither, consuming, devouring, dreamy, enticing, entrancing, erotic, inviting, irresistible, liquid, love-struck, loving, luscious, sensual, sensuous, sexy, swooning, sultry, tantalizing, tender, worshipful

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞, 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 –

almond-shaped, asymmetrical, bug-eyed, close-set, cross-eye, deep-set, doe, down turned, elongated, enormous, hooded, huge, large, lidded, minuscule, mono-lid, moon-eyed, oval, prominent, protruding, round, slanted, sloe-eyed, small, symmetrical, tiny, uneven, upturned, wide, wide-set.

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 –

all-knowing, angry, anxious, appealing, astonished, astute, bewildered, blank, brooding, candid, cold, commanding, compassionate, confused, cool, convinced, cruel, curious, dazed, dead, dopey, disappointed, disappointment, disapproval, disapproving, disbelief, disbelieving, discerning, disdainful, dull, dumbfounded, emotionless, expectant, fearful, fierce, fiery, frightened, genuine, grave, hollow, honest, hopeful, impassioned, impassive, imploring, innocent, intelligent, intense, intent, irritated, jovial, judgmental, keen, knowing, laughing, lecherous, let down, melancholy, mischievous, mocking, mournful, pensive, playful, pleading, proud, puzzled, questioning, quizzical, rebellious, reflective, remorseful, restless, resigned, resolute, sad, sarcastic, sardonic, seductive, shocked, shrewd, skeptical, sleepy, startled, sorrowful, stern, stunned, surprised, sympathetic, teasing, thoughtful, trusting, trustworthy, unreadable, unwavering, veiled, weary.

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞 –

amber, black, blue, blue-green, blue-gray/grey, brown, clear, cloudy, copper, dark, deep, emerald green, golden, green, gray/grey, hazel, heterochromia, light, murky, pale, pearly, pink, red, sky blue, steel blue, violet, yellow.

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 –

bat, bawling, blink, close, cross, crying, darting, exploring, flecked, flicker, flutter, focused, follow, glaze over, inspect, linger, motionless, open, pry, rapid blinking, roll, scan, searching, shift, shut, squeeze, tracking, unblinking, unmoving, wander, wandering, weeping, winking.

𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬/𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 –

bedroom eyes, cat-like, child-like, deep as the ocean, elevator eyes, feline, foxy, hawk-like, laser-like focus, owlish, pie eyed, puppy dog eyes, raccoon-like, raven-like, reflected in the pool of someone's eyes, saucer-like, shimmering like the sea, tiger-like.

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬 –

allergic, burning, dry, farsighted, itchy, jaundiced, matter, myopic, nearsighted, obscured, pinkeye, scratchy, sensitive, visual impairment, visually impaired.

[imperialsiyo]

⌗ ︙・Mugunghwa In The Spring・

Empress!Bayan x Fem!Reader

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ word count: ~2,981

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ post content: kissing, flirting, unrequited love, hurt/comfort, eating, wholesome, fluff, sapphic, etc.

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ Summary: The year is 1496 during the Joseon Era of Korea. You are a Kisaeng (government-owned courtesan) who has recently been promoted to a higher rank. Your talent has caught the attention of the Empress, and she invites you for a peaceful afternoon picnic by Gwahae Lake.

It was a morning of renewal, the first day of spring, and the air was laced with the sweetness of blooming flowers—pink and white Mugunghwa blossoming all around the palace gardens. The distant sound of laughter from courtiers and the occasional chirping of birds made the palace seem almost serene. You could feel the warmth of the sun as it kissed the surface of your skin. Today was an important day, one you had been preparing for with trembling hands and a heart racing with anticipation.

Her Majesty, Empress Bayan, had personally requested your company for an afternoon picnic. It was not unheard of for the Empress to call upon Kisaeng, but something about this felt different. You weren’t simply a courtesan today. You were her guest.

Why me? The question lingered in your mind, casting a shadow over your excitement.

As much as you had climbed the ranks quickly in only eight months, becoming an Ilpae (일패) felt almost surreal. Many girls worked years for this status. And here you were, an enigma to yourself, invited by the Empress herself.

The palace servants had arrived earlier to dress and prepare you, bringing the finest hanbok you had ever worn—emerald green with pastel pink accents, delicate embroidery, and a handmade gold hairpin with two dangling white pearls. The intricate design left you in awe. Surely, this is far too luxurious for someone like me.

But there was no time for doubt as you were led through the palace to the Empress’s quarters, every step heavy with the weight of expectation. When you arrived at the appointed spot by Gwahae Lake, you were met by the sight of Her Majesty, sitting beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree, the soft petals falling around her like confetti.

Bayan’s presence was radiant, her calmness commanding. She wore a serene smile as her eyes met yours, their warmth piercing through your nervous exterior. Her royal hanbok shimmered with delicate silk, shades of purple and silver, making her appear almost otherworldly.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to speak despite the knot tightening in your throat. "I—I cannot thank you enough for your kindness, my lady," you stammered, lowering your head into a deep bow, arms stiff at your sides.

The Empress paused, her eyes softening. "There is no need for such formality, Y/n," she said gently. "Please, come and sit. The day is far too beautiful for us to be weighed down by titles."

You blinked, feeling your chest tighten as she called your name. No titles? Her voice had a way of disarming your nerves, even as your heart pounded in your ears. Slowly, you raised your head and stepped forward, your hands trembling as you sat down on the cloth beside her.

"I—I'm honored, truly," you continued, your voice faltering. "I never imagined I’d make it this far in such a short time. I’m not like the other high-ranked courtesans, not as talented or skilled as them. It feels… undeserved."

There was a silence that followed your words, the kind of silence that made you want to shrink into yourself. Why did I say that? Self-doubt gnawed at you, but before you could say more, Bayan’s voice cut through the tension.

"Y/n," she said softly, her tone firm but compassionate. "Do you truly believe that?"

Your breath caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to look away from her gaze. Her hand reached out, gently lifting your chin so your eyes could meet hers. "Your talent is what caught my eye, not your title. It is your ability to captivate those around you, whether through conversation, art, or song. You have a rare gift, one that cannot be taught. And that is why you are here."

Her fingers brushed lightly against your chin, and you could feel the warmth of her touch ripple through you. She thinks I’m talented? The disbelief mixed with a strange flutter of excitement in your chest, your breath hitching at her words. Her sincerity felt like a balm, soothing the insecurities that had plagued you all morning.

"My lady, I…" You tried to find the words, but your voice faltered, caught between gratitude and disbelief.

Bayan smiled softly, her hand moving to hold yours, her thumbs gently tracing the calloused skin of your knuckles. "Do not let doubt cloud your heart, Y/n. Talent cannot always be measured in the same way. You are extraordinary in your own right."

The sincerity in her voice stirred something deep within you, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe it—if only for a moment. You nodded, unable to find words, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Extraordinary… in my own way.

As the servants finished setting up the picnic, you and Bayan settled into a comfortable conversation. The lake sparkled in the afternoon sun, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above. An array of delicacies had been laid out: sweet rice cakes, fresh fruit, and small sandwiches prepared with precision.

You glanced around, noting the lack of guards. Normally, Bayan’s personal retinue would be close by. Perhaps they were watching from the shadows, or maybe she had chosen to have some semblance of privacy for the day.

"Tell me about your life, Y/n," Bayan asked, her voice gentle but curious. "I wish to know more about the woman behind the title."

"Oh, me?" You scratched the back of your head with a nervous laugh. "There's not much to tell. My family were farmers—my grandmother and mother were Kisaeng before me, and it became my path as well." You paused, smiling softly at the memory of your home. "My mother worked so hard, always with a smile on her face, but… there was a sadness in her eyes, even when she smiled."

The words came out softer than you intended, and you felt a pang in your chest, a melancholy that you had never fully confronted. The weight of inherited duty, the life of a Kisaeng passed down from generation to generation. The tightness in your throat threatened to overwhelm you.

"I suppose we all have burdens to bear," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bayan was silent for a moment, her eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, she reached out and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. You froze for a moment, startled by the sudden contact, but soon found yourself relaxing against her, your heartbeats syncing in a gentle rhythm.

"You carry so much on your shoulders, Y/n," Bayan whispered, her breath warm against your ear. "But you do not have to bear it alone."

Your eyes widened as you melted into her arms. Her embrace was comforting, like the warmth of sunlight on a cold day. She’s so close… The realization of her tenderness made your face flush with heat, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You had not expected this level of intimacy, and it left you feeling both vulnerable and cherished.

"I hope I didn’t upset you, my lady," you stammered, your voice faltering as you pulled away slightly, though her arms remained loosely around you.

Bayan shook her head, her gaze soft and reassuring. "You did not upset me. I only wanted you to know that I understand." Her eyes held yours, and you could feel the weight of her words. "My mother was much the same."

There was a shared sorrow between you, an unspoken bond of understanding that made the moment feel heavier, yet somehow lighter. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, the sounds of nature filling the gaps where words could not.

Eventually, you smiled, the weight in your chest lifting as you reached for the flute she had gifted you earlier. "Are you sure I can keep it? It's lovely but…"

"It's yours, Y/n," Bayan said, her hand curling around yours, pressing the flute into your palm. "You may thank me by playing it to your heart’s content."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, the warmth in her gaze sending a thrill through you. "Thank you, Bayan," you whispered, daring to use her name without a title.

As the day went on, you played a gentle melody on the flute while Bayan plucked a nearby Mugunghwa flower and placed it in your hair. The two of you lingered in each other’s presence, sharing sweets and quiet laughter until the sun began to dip below the horizon.

Before you parted ways, Bayan leaned in, her lips brushing against your cheek in a soft, lingering kiss—a farewell that left you blushing, your heart fluttering with the memory of her touch.

That night, as you lay awake, your mind raced with thoughts of the day.

You had never been this close to someone of such importance before. Her touch still lingered on your skin, a soft warmth that refused to fade even as the cool night air seeped into your room.

You replayed the kiss over and over in your mind, the gentle brush of her lips against your cheek, the way her fingers lingered in your hair as she placed the Mugunghwa there. The Empress had always carried herself with grace and dignity, but this… this was something far more personal, far more intimate.

What did it mean? you wondered, staring up at the wooden ceiling above your bed. You had been trained to entertain, to charm, but this was different. This was not the role of a courtesan—this was something deeper, something that made your heart race and your mind whirl with confusion. Was it affection? Friendship? Or something more?

Her words echoed in your mind: “You do not have to bear it alone.” There was a tenderness in the way she had spoken those words, as though she saw past your role, past the title of Kisaeng, and saw you—the real you.

You shifted in your bed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as a soft sigh escaped your lips. Could it be that Bayan, the Empress of the nation, truly saw you as someone more than just a performer? The idea sent shivers down your spine, both thrilling and terrifying.

The next few days passed in a blur of routine and duties. You were busy with lessons, performances, and entertaining officials, but your thoughts kept drifting back to that afternoon by the lake. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see Bayan’s smile, hear the softness of her voice, feel the warmth of her touch. It was maddening, how much you thought of her.

You tried to push the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of your place. You were a Kisaeng, trained to please, to perform. There was no room for personal attachment, especially not with someone of Bayan’s status. But no matter how hard you tried, the memory of that day lingered, wrapping itself around your heart like a vine.

Several days later, just as the cherry blossoms began to fall in full bloom, you received another invitation. The royal messenger had arrived at your quarters early in the morning, presenting you with a scroll bearing the Empress’s seal.

You unrolled it carefully, your heart pounding as you read the elegant script:

Y/n,

I find myself longing for your company once more. Join me this evening in the gardens. There is much I wish to discuss with you.

- Bayan

Your breath caught in your throat. Longing for your company… The words sent a flutter through your chest, and for a moment, you simply stood there, staring at the scroll in disbelief.

Without wasting any time, you prepared yourself, your mind a whirlwind of possibilities. What could she want to discuss? Had something changed since your last meeting? Was this a formal summons, or something more personal?

As the evening approached, you found yourself once again standing in the palace gardens, the setting sun casting a warm golden glow over the landscape. The air was filled with the soft scent of blooming flowers, and the distant sound of a waterfall trickled through the quiet.

Bayan was waiting for you under the same cherry blossom tree where you had shared your first afternoon together. She looked even more radiant in the evening light, her hair loosely pinned up, her hanbok flowing like water as she stood to greet you.

"Y/n," she called softly, her voice carrying through the air like a melody. "I’m glad you came."

You bowed deeply, trying to keep your composure. "It is always an honor to be in your presence, my lady."

Bayan smiled, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. "I told you before, there’s no need for formalities between us." She gestured for you to sit beside her, and once again, you felt that strange mix of excitement and nervousness as you obeyed.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was comfortable, filled with the sounds of nature and the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. You stole a glance at her, admiring the way the evening light danced across her skin, the way her eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite place.

"I’ve been thinking about you, Y/n," Bayan finally said, her voice soft but firm. "Since the day by the lake."

Your heart skipped a beat. "You have, my lady?"

She nodded, turning her gaze to the horizon. "There’s something about you that draws me in. It’s not just your talent, though that is undeniable. It’s the way you carry yourself, the way you speak, the way you seem to understand the world with such depth. It’s… remarkable."

You blinked, taken aback by her words. "I… I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t need to say anything." She smiled, her eyes locking onto yours. "I just wanted you to know."

A heavy silence fell between you, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to do. Her words sent a flurry of emotions through you—pride, confusion, fear, hope. Did she see you as more than just a performer? Was there something deeper behind her compliments?

Bayan reached out, taking your hand in hers, her fingers warm against your skin. "Y/n," she said softly, "I don’t want you to feel as though you’re only here because of duty or obligation. I invited you here because I enjoy your company. Because… I care for you."

Your breath caught in your throat. "My lady, I… I’m not sure I understand."

Her hand tightened around yours, her eyes searching yours for understanding. "I know this must be unexpected for you. And I know our positions make things… complicated. But my feelings for you are real, Y/n. You’ve stirred something in me that I haven’t felt in a long time."

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, a mixture of fear and elation swirling inside you. "I… I don’t know what to say," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Bayan smiled softly, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture. "You don’t have to say anything now. I just wanted you to know how I feel. I don’t expect anything from you. I just… wanted to be honest."

For a moment, you could only sit there, stunned by her confession. The Empress of Joseon, the most powerful woman in the land, had just confessed her feelings for you. It was overwhelming, and yet… there was a part of you that had longed for this, a part of you that had felt the same way but had been too afraid to admit it, even to yourself.

Slowly, you nodded, your eyes meeting hers once more. "Thank you… for your honesty, my lady," you said quietly. "I… I’m honored by your words."

Bayan smiled, her eyes softening with relief. "Take your time, Y/n. There’s no rush. We have all the time in the world."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the gardens in a soft, golden glow, you sat there with Bayan, hand in hand, sharing a quiet moment of understanding and possibility. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to hope—for connection, for something more, for a future that felt uncertain but full of promise.

And as you sat beneath the cherry blossoms, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, together in the quiet beauty of the evening.