#i am dedicated however and this will not deter me !!!

[housecow]

y’all just have to take my word for it but i am so fat and cute rn. also having trouble getting drinks at drive thrus bc

a. boobs in the way when i reach for the drink from the worker

b. boobs in the way and i can’t see the cup holder to put the drink down

but my hair is soft my face is round my skin is glowing and i CANT LOSE 💪

[insufferablelust]

Aemond claiming you as his 🔥 SMUT

RAVISH [BYKA ZALDRĪZES] Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Targaryen Reader

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Bind by her betrothal to the rider of Vhagar, the daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen meets Aemond Targaryen to find herself getting more than she ever expected.

Words counted: 6.9k (My sincerest apologies)

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy breeding kink, Chocking, Claiming of maidenhood, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of blood (nothing graphic).

Hello! this is my first time posting my work for any HOTD characters, thank you to the anon who requested, and special thank you & dedication to Gabrielle my friend who helped me Beta this work❤️ My request is always open for HOTD characters. English is not my native language so bear with me. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

Rules to Request

You can feel the tightness of your evening attire wrapped around the slopes of your curves, with the long thick fabric that overlaps the bodice of your dress downwards. You stayed as still as you could when your ladies dressed you with much attentive eyes. Hands everywhere from the collar to the soles of your feet.

One of your ladies braid your silky silver hair loose but neatly, perfecting your looks for such occasions. One being the arrival of your uncle, the rider of the biggest dragon in all the realms, Aemond. You can feel the loud thumping of your heart against your ribcage, albeit constricted by the tight layers of your attire, it does not deter your nervousness.

Not only is his arrival would have significance on the chess play of the throne of the dragons, but it would bear you consequences that you, in fact, are unable to escape this fate. The fate you have little to say against. The near last wish of the king to betroth you to unite the two sides of the Targaryen blood. Marriage of dragon and dragon, hoping to conceal the gaping wound left by Viserys decisions.

Neither your mother nor your father can truly save you now as you have made your decision to choose your destiny to try and serve the realm the only way you know how. The rising tension and possible bloodshed of cousins and nieces are no longer needed, you had hoped, if you agree to this arrangement. You have no other choice than to take his hand in marriage, even if it means that you have to sacrifice your own freedom and the ambiguous name of the true heir.

You have yet to set your feelings for the rider of Vhagar, he is not only an enigma to you but, more so, a mystery that you are both eager yet scared to fully unveil. There is a part of you know that there is a darkness that surrounds his being like no other, as your brothers have always told you. However, if you are to take his hand in marriage, you would have to force yourself to see the light in him, as you wished for the Seven to guide you in your unprecedented path.

“Princess, pardon me but Her Grace, Queen Alicent has requested your presence at the gate, for Prince Aemond’s arrival.”

At once your shoulder straightened as you breathe out a heavy sigh, pulled out of your heavy thoughts by one of the servants. You smiled, and replied with a gentle “Of course, Lyana. I am to be done and head there right away.”

Closing your eyes briefly, you gathered your thoughts, and silently prayed to not only the Seven but to all old Gods of Valyria to gain you strength and will to overcome this behemoth of a challenge that is to be bestowed upon you in a matter of minutes. Opening your eyes again, you begin to shuffle your way out of the mighty wooden door, and off to your journey just outside of the Red Keep, on the gates overlooking Rhaenys Hill.

You’re accompanied by the two of your ladies as well as your trusted guard as you make your way down the castle. You can see in the distance the few people including the Queen, that has already stood patiently waiting for Prince Aemond’s arrival. You blushed as the foot of your dress sweep gracefully onto the stones below, your heart raced with anticipation of meeting your soon-to-be husband.

“Your Grace.”

You curtsied as you approached Queen Alicent, a sign of greeting and respect you have for the mother of the alleged battling heir to the throne. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you smiled as she gently touches your arm. Her smile is soft, casted as genuine, however, you can clearly see the tightness in them.

Alicent has always spared you more content than to others directly of your mother’s blood, your obedience to the crown, realm, and dedication to the Seven, helped her to overcome the dreaded raging crossfire between the two apparent heirs. Your demur soft upbringing, contented her enough to welcome you in a hug, albeit fabricated with quarrel.

“Princess, it is a delight for all of us to be blessed by your presence, in honor of the Prince, of course.” She replied, your lips set into a thin smile, as you bowed your head to Princess Helaena. Unlike to her brothers or your step aunt’s entourages, you have a knit bond with Helaena, having to endure the chaos of the brooding conflict in the throne, you both shared the same wish to cultivate what was once a peaceful reign and put an end to the family’s misery. You watched attentively as she rubbed her swollen belly, knowing full well the usurper successor of your mother’s rightful throne cradled in the form of the babe inside her body. Your eyes fleetingly meet hers as you continued to smile.

“As it was a delight for me to procure your request of my presence, Your Grace. I am of honored to be here for the Prince’s arrival.”

Alicent patted your arm one more time before you both overlook the land of King’s Landing, with the view of the Narrow Sea dances in your eyes. You were always amazed by the beauty of the realm, the blue greyish skies are your scenery, especially when you have the opportunity to ride on your dragon’s back. Oh how you wished you could just fly away to Dragonstone right about now and see your family again. Alas that too is wishful thinking.

You were suddenly halted of your longing when the sound of the bellowing of mighty Vhagar came to light, your eyes drifted to the source of such powerful force, as the silhouette of one of the greatest beast come into view. You admired her majestic wings from afar, eyes squinted at her fierceness, biting through the wind and seamlessly breaking through the clouds. As the dragon got closer to the Hill of Rhaenys, just outside the Dragonpit, you could also make out the rider of said beast.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Even from miles away from the ground, one would not miss the way he fiercely ride the biggest dragon alive known in all seven realms, a dragon he conquered to be his own, the dragon that came to him not when he was born yet when he was in his biggest pit of despair. Vhagar’s bond with her rider is as strong as ever, just like when she roamed the skies with Queen Visenya Targaryen once during Aegon the Conquerer’s reign.

You could make out the shadow of his being as he landed on Rhaenys Hill ever so smoothly, dismounting from the beast before patting her and giving her to the dragon keepers. You hissed in pain as you finally realized that you have been clenching your hand too tightly in front of you.

“Seven heavens dear, are you alright?”

You can hear the soft gasps, and murmurs around you, noticing how you clutched your fingertips together. You have not noticed the entire time that you had been so nervous, it numbed the pain of your even dull fingernails on the palm of your dainty hands.

“Gods.” You exclaimed feeling your palm stings, Queen Alicent noticed the whole thing, her eyebrows furrowed in worry, so did Princess Helaena. “Princess, may I accompany back to the keep? so we can clean your hands” Said Haelena softly, in which you find yourself grateful for.

A nod and curtsy came from you as you lower your head in shame, “I apologize Your Grace, My Princess, for I have unable to assuage my pain. May I please be excused to clean up?” Your voice is in the teetering edge of whimper, eyes too humiliated to stare into Alicent or Helaena’s eyes. If you could summon your dragon here and then, you would and fly away with her so you don’t ever have to come back to Kings Landing but the luck of the Seven was never truly behind you since the start.

“Very well, Princess. Please see to it that the maester is make aware of her condition, and let her heal properly.” Alicent replied sternly, her voice laced with bitter shame covered with fantom worries, and she encouraged Helaena to accompany you, stressing that it would not be much fuss that neither of you would be there to greet the one eyed Prince.

You curtsied once more, before turning away from the looks of all the ladies and lords that have awaited for the Prince’s arrival. You tried to drawn out the murmurs in the background as your hem of your dress shuffled across the cobblestone, making your way back inside the keep.

Haelena was patient as she accompanied you to the Maester’s healing chamber, making small comments so that they are well aware of your little incident. The blush on your cheeks has yet to subside nor does the pounding in your chest. The bodice strangling you from the outside, as your own fear strangled you from within.

“Niece, however are you feeling? has the pain subsided?”

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the soft ringing of Helaena’s voice, your mind eased a little hearing her, she is a soothing presence in the midst of your confusion. You may live in King’s Landing, however your soul have always been with your family, home is wherever they were, and that was Dragonstone. How you so badly wanted to be there.

“No need to be worrisome, muñus. By the will of the gods, I shall be fine. It was just my foolish mistake. I should have been more careful.” Aunt.

The last words that left your mouth were that of a whimper, small plea you made to yourself. A plea that you knew would save yourself and possibly the realm had you not make the same reckless mistake over and over again. Helaena whom has been pestering over the healers, sit down besides you. She might be your aunt by bloodline, but she is also closer to your age, knows the burden you carry with the looming threat of the crack in the lair of the dragons.

“Dare I ask what is occupying your mind, dear?”

There is a tinge of pleasant playfulness in her voice that didn’t fail to make you tilt your head and chuckled. Sighing, “None of the matter, My Princess, it is merely a big day for us all.” You looked straight into her eyes as you replied, knowing full well she would understand what does big day entailed.

“Jorrāeliarzys, a fierce dragon such as yourself need not be worry of any apprehension.”

She clicked her tongue at you like a mother scolding their child, you feel comforted by the warmth she displayed to you knowing full well all of this heap was due to her own brother’s arrival upon the keep. Aegon himself has not been able to sleep peacefully since he catches the news of his brother’s wind in Kings Landing.

“Thank you, Helaena. I shall pray that the Prince arrives at the gates safely—“

Your moment was cut short however when you both heard the huge door opening, revealing the two guards that stood in front. Your breath hitched slightly, when you took upon notice the presence whom have entered the healing chambers.

“Brother, welcome.” You quickly took back your hand as soon as the maester was done wrapping it up in a soft silk cloth, concealing your earlier omission from him. Your eyes had not dared to look into his, instead focusing them on the ground beneath your feet as the brother and sister embraced each other in front of you.

Had you not looked away, you would have seen that Aemond’s eyes have certainly never wavered from your presence, his attention was on you as soon as he arrived to the gates. Blood boiling with fury as he had heard what had happened to you. It was supposed to be a happy day, at the very least for him, as it is the day he was going to set eyes again on you. His future wife. The queen to his soon to be realm, the one whom he will fight for.

His eyes has yet to set ashore from your slightly trembling body, it only darted towards your enclasped hands in front of you. “Do you wish to retire to your chambers? you have had a long day on Vhagar’s back.” You can hear Haelena’s voice ring, you wanted so much to greet him as you are accustomed to, however you found your lips to be very hesitant. No sound came out.

“I shall retire later, sister. I wish to see the princess first as I have been made aware of her conditions.”

The smooth sound of his thick voice caresses you softly, yet it leaves a rough grip on its awakening, just like dragon scales. You tilted your head slightly, finally looking at him as you have been sought after.

“My Prince.” Your voice finally escaped your lips, breathing a shaky breath as your eyes locked with his. “Welcome back, the keep has not been the same without your presence.” You smiled gently, lips pressed into a thin line— there is so much resistance coming from you and he knows it.

Aemond then stepped forward, standing in front of you. You felt his dominating figure as he towered over yours, making you swallow the bile in your throat. Your breath, however, hitched in your throat as he tenderly brings your hands upwards, bending over a little to place a lingering kiss atop of the cloth covered skin. “How severely does it hurt, My Princess?”

Shivers come washing down on you when you felt his lips ever so gently grazes your skin, even through the cloth you can feel his warm breath, his attentive touch and words releases a bit of pressure off your shoulders. But you must not let your guard down as you are still standing in front of a man that has caused way too many mishaps for your house. The threatening presence to the house destruction, yet, all of that just gravitated yourself closer to him.

“It barely hurts… All is well, My Prince—“ You replied eyes darting between his patchless eye, and to Helaena behind him whom watching this whole encounter with a smile, “I apologize to have caused you much trouble upon your arrival day, for I swear to the Seven, I did not mean it.”

You can hear Aemond clicks his tongue in front of you, clearly unamused to you apologizing for something that causes you terrible pain. After all you are to be his wife, he would always protect you even if it meant from your own self. “By all the realms, you have no need to apologize-“ He tilted his head in what you can only take as a menacing smug gesture with a grin.

“I’ll take your hand in marriage in less than a moon time, and soon your hand would cradle my babe, I am merely seeking to even give you a new hand, if My Princess ever so wishes for one. Hm, ñuhys jorrāeliarzy?” My beloved.

That pulled a hefty gasp out of you, your hands that were still in his grasp turned so cold. Although it is not a new matter that the King and Queen has betrothed you both, it still feels like you’re reverted to how you are a shy maiden, not nearly as experienced as he was in anything. You have your mother’s wit as well as fierceness, your father’s attitude yet you always find yourself in another dichotomy altogether where you’re more demure than those of your siblings characters, Jacaerys is a wise leader, so as your other brothers, you— you are something else. Never wish for any power yet contented to defending your own.

“I suppose so, My Prince. However you needn’t to worry. I shall be fine by the time moonlight arrives.” You replied with trying hard to keep up with his intense eye contact. It was difficult for you to not drown in his lilac eyes, his silver hair, perfectly sculpted jaw, and even more domineering stance. You have wished sometimes that the Gods would just damn you in the Grand Sept for your lewd thoughts.

“Very well, little dragon. I shall see you during supper tonight, for I can not wait to have a feast.” The last words may not he spoken loudly as his lips were truly beside your ears, however, you can hear it as it was meant to be heard by you only. Your cheeks could not contain the warmth that rises to its surface, only spreading further down your neck— flustered and hot everywhere when the back of his nimble fingers grazes your cheeks twice.

“Whatever do you mean by—“

“We shall meet again, Princess.” With a tentative smirk and a chuckle, he put down your hand and left as he was never there, with his own clasped behind his back striding out of the healing chambers. Your mouth still agape as to what he meant, your heart raced as your body burned with desire. You can only wish to be spared tonight, as you wanted to keep your virtue until you wed.

—

The gold ring glimmered under the light of fire within your chambers, you keep twirling your hand to get a glimpse of the engraved Valyrian words across the ring itself. Byka zaldrīzes. The writings wrote, there is a small ruby gem on the top, adorned with small scales to imitate that of your dragon’s— Silverwing. Aemond had given this to you few moons ago, when the Queen and small council have decided to betroth you both. It is “A token for our betrothal, to remind you that I have promised in the name of the Seven and all Gods to solely devote myself to you.” He had said. Little dragon.

Your heart fluttered at the thought, even when everyone deemed him the cold even sometimes heartless prince, he had shown you slivers of his tender nature. You of course knew of what transpired during his childhood, you knew of his torment, and his tormentors— you were there to witness by your ears, always trying to comfort him afterwards out of goodwill. The memory of it all remained fresh in your memories. After the death of your younger brother, Lucerys, both side of the throne were cold as ice, sharp as Blackfyre— alas you too would fly to Dragonstone if not for the binding vows of the betrothal your mother had arranged when you were a mere child.

You see, you were supposed to marry Aegon, the usurper soon to be king, however that came short when she decided to wed Aegon with Helaena instead, and reconcile the betrothal the deal, with binding you to Aemond, instead. At the time you knew the reason why she were to wed Aegon because Alicent disapprove of your twin brother Jacaerys for his lack of Valyrian blood, or so Alicent claimed. 

You, however, was spared of the thoughts considering you were born with silver hair, striking that of your twin brother— mayhaps the reason why you were so fragile as a child, the Maester thought once that you could not have made it far to adulthood let alone reach your 15th name day. Your hand might be taken by a man you do not wish to wed out of loyalty to your mother but perhaps, unable to escape, this is the best possible outcome you could possibly get. 

Letting out a sigh, you smoothen the red and gold dress you’re wearing, the sheer fabric on the sleeve of your arms are giving you room to breathe despite the tightness of your attire. Few strands of your silver locks tied in a braid behind your head, whilst the rest flowed down your shoulders freely. The most beautiful maiden in the realm, the ladies often said. You admired yourself in the mirror, before hearing the door knock.

“Forgive me, Princess, but Her Grace, the Princes, and Princess have all waited for you in the dining hall.”

“Thank you, Lyana. I shall depart right away.”

Taking a deep breath, you shuffled your way out your chambers and into the dining hall. Two guards were stationed in front of the giant door, you nodded your head before they opened it. Taking a sight to your views, you can see the familiar faces of the Queen, your uncles and aunt. It seem that there is only five of you present, with one babe cradled inside Helaena.

“Your Grace, My Princes, and Princess.” You curtsied and bow your head before making your way inside. You locked eyes with that of Aemond’s, his lips curled into a grin as he set eyes on your beauty, before settling on the ring adorning your finger. You can also feel the heated gaze of Aegon interlocking between you and Aemond, Gods, you hope there will be no quarrel tonight between the two.

“Niece, it is a pleasure to be graced by your company again.” Came the voice of Prince Aegon with a smirk, already looking halfway intoxicated by the wine perched on his silver glass. “As it is mine, Your Highness.” you sat down on the chair, smiling at your hosts. “For I can see that my brother is assured to be… joyous.” Aegon chirped, you didn’t miss the glares Aemond threw his way.

“Has the remedy by the Maester treat your hand well, Princess?” Helaena asked you before giving his brother a chance to refute, you were thankful for her quick response. Darting to your palm, recognizing the piece of cloth it is still wrapped in. Trying not to grimace of your earlier humiliation, you just nodded your head, “Yes Princess, I cannot seldom express more of my gratitude for your kindness. It is treating very well.”

“That is a very good news indeed, now we shall feast on the supper.” Queen Alicent smiled at you, looking as uncomfortable with the brooding tension of her own sons— gesturing to the table in front of you. “How was the trip, Prince Aemond?” You tenderly tried to slice yourself a piece of roasted duck, only to hiss with the ever looming pain, sighing, you heard a click of the tongue belonging to none other than your betrothed.

“Allow me, niece.” Aemond voice cut through the silence as he offered to slice your meal for you. Warmth feels your cheeks once more as you pass your knife to him so he can cut it.

“Thank you, uncle.”

“It was pleasant enough, Vhagar was restless as she had to fly during a hailstorm, however, the journey felt too long knowing what awaits me in King’s Landing.”

The implication of his words made you look around, seeing his brother, the very man that threatens your mother’s throne snickered and with a huge grin adorning his face.

“My my, you have grown, brother, I did not know you could be so… feeble.” He swings his now empty cup so the servants can pour more wine inside. You inhaled sharply at his comment, knowing what awaits.

Shocks were thrown around the room as suddenly, the knife in the hand of your betrothed—belonging to you, are raised upon the soon to be Usurper’s King direction.

“I can and will have your tongue for that.” The air around you is thick with tension, “Aemond!” his mother gasped, a rivalry of heir successors that you have rarely seen in Dragonstone between your siblings, yet appear to be so common now in the grand pillars of the Keep.

“Enough—“

“You could do well try, if you can get past my guards, weakling.”

“Still hiding behind your guards? you are no man, merely a boy sent to be a fake king.” Aemond jabs, standing at his full height now— knife right against his brother’s neck. The clanking sound of the knight’s armor can be heard.

“and I still fuck my whores better than you do, brother.”

Next thing you heard was the loud banging of your knife on Aemond’s hands carved deep inside the table, he had stood up in a rage of fury, if looks could kill, Aegon Targaryen would be 12 feet under by now.

“I said enough!” You have in rare occasions see Queen Alicent be this mad even when her sons drove her crazy, let alone hear her voice this loud. The staring feast between Aegon and Aemond lasted even after the Queen told them to cut it off, looking at Helaena whom seem to be uncomfortable by the situation, you clear your throat and placed a soft hand gently on the back of Aemond’s shoulder.

“My Prince, perhaps I can show you, around the Keep? it has been long after all since you last set foot here.” You tried to keep yourself composed.

You carefully thread your words so neither brothers or queen for that matter, would raise the growing tension ever more. You bravely looked towards Aemond’s piercing stare at his drunken brother. A pregnant pause followed suit, before Aemond let out a scoff and turned around.

The screeching sound of his chair was loud in the silence that cut through the hall, he began walking away as you threw a curtsy before the Queen, and scurried after him outside the hall.

“Prince Aemond, please wait.” You tug the midway of your silk dress so you can follow his pace but he walked with as much rage as he did before. Slender and tall figure scurrying away. Hearing no reply coming from him, you let out a sound akin to a desperate whine.

“Dear will you please— Ah!”

You suddenly feel your back pressed against one of the walls inside the small hall not far from where the bed chambers were located. The walls felt cold to your back, your breathing was loud, so was his. Only then you registered that one of his hands were on your neck, wrapped around your delicate throat with enough pressure to block out some of the air when you inhale. The necklace given by your mother digging through your neck.

“You are quite the woman now, aren’t you, niece?” a teasing chuckle came soon after, “I am intrigued on how you have kept your innocence for all the time I have been gone, hm?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“W-what does that entail, Aemond?” your lips trembled when you speak of his name, you can feel his knees pressed to open the gap between your thighs— causing you to gasp and widen your soft lilac eyes.

“Still remains a maiden, Princess?” Aemond tilt his head, smiling throughout.

“I— of- of course, what are you so boldly implying?” You were taken aback by his implications, the stinging tears on your eyes are threatening to fall down along with the hoarseness of your voice.

“lykirī, issa jorrāeliarzys—“ scoffing in amusement, “I merely wanted to know how hard I can fuck you tonight.” You tried to wiggle away from his hold against your neck only for him to, once more, clicked his tongue at you as if you’re a disobedient child, and put his other hand on your waist to steady you against the wall— leaving no space to go. Calm, my love.

“ah ah, do not make a fuss now, sweet one. wouldn’t want to alert the whole castle on the doings of their virtuous Princess, now would we?”

You can feel his nimble fingers caresses the exposed skin of your hunched dress, the silk making way for his touches to graze yours ever so tantalizingly. “I have dreamed of this, —of you like this.” He muttered, “each time you soothed me after your cunt of brothers disrespected me.” you were still much shocked and flustered at his ministrations. Lips moving down to capture your neck, slowly moving down to the column of your now exposed throat.

“Aemond— not here…”

“Hush, dove. Now that you will soon be my wife, I shall have you whenever, wherever, and however I desire to.” His words are muttered against your skin, drawing soft breathy whines from you.

“Aemond, we should n-not… Please…” You tried to reason with him, even when your hips grinds against his pants covered knees— still nudged in the slope of your inner thighs. You felt your clothed bundle of pleasure rubbed ever so slightly against him when he further raised his knee against you. Making you whine in delight and frustration. “Gods! mmh, aem!”

“Seems to me that you wanted this as much as I do, little one.” He teased as he continues his quest, deep kisses left in his wake, “I shall claim you how I see fit, wouldn’t you say so, princess?”

You tried to answer him but only mewls and whimpers escaped out your lips as you continued to grind against his knees, meeting his now fasten pace, and the kisses on the sensitive spot on your neck just below your jaw is making you high. Gods, it feels like you’re set ablaze by thousands of dragon fire.

“Asked you a question, niece.”

“Yes! Gods yes! take me however you desire.” Your resolve has been breached once and for all, for you can not escape how intoxicating his touches are. You have been to wound up with all the realm duties, indulgence is not one for the Princess, however your desire is far too strong to resist your soon-to-be husband.

“You may not be a whore from the common streets, but you are my own, byka zaldrīzes.” Little dragon. “You will know how wrong my brother was after I fucked you.”

“and I still fuck my whores better than you do, brother.” The words exchanged by Aegon now rings on your ear.

Wanton moans escaped your lips as he continued his assault on your neck, he bent down a little to access the hem of your embroidery to push it down— you whined at the loss of his knee on your soaked cunt, “Why’d you st— oh gods!” you threw your head back against the wall at the feeling of his warm lips engulfing your now hardened buds.

“Patience.”

He muttered sharply before suckling on your teats, nipples darkened with blood rushing to them— all plump and Aemond salivated to the thought of them filling up when you, one day, will bear his child—children. “Cannot wait to fill you up, watch you swell with my babe.” He groaned, switching from one buds to the other— left you panting.

“Ah mm! can’t wait— oh! to carry your heir, my Prince…”

Whilst his mouth is preoccupied by your left nipple, his fingers are tweaking your other one, pulling and twisting— making you writhe in pleasure, you are sure that your small garment is soaked by now.

“You will never be able to escape me in our marit—“

You both were pulled from your pool of lust and pleasure when you heard the clanking noises of a knight’s armor rounding the corners of the Red Keep. Your eyes wide as you tried your best to push Aemond away only for him to raised an eyebrow and covered your mouth with his hand.

“Shh, do not make a sound, little one.”

You were about to protest when you felt his other hand trailing up your haunched hem, his feet parting your lets.

“nnh—“ you tried to speak against his hand, but he just let out a scoff and pushed you impossibly deeper to the wall.

“Rȳbās.” Obey.

Pleasure overtook you as Aemond’s fingers pushed aside your garment, fingers came in contact with the flushed slick soaked flesh of your needy cunt. “you are enjoying this.” He shake his head with so much amusement to his gleaming eyes and smirking lips—voice just above a whisper to make sure no one heard him, but if you have to guess, he wouldn’t care if someone catches you anyways.

“Here I though my little Princess is a pious woman, and here she is, with a dripping cunt begging me to fuck her.”

You heard the clanking sound moving away, noises slowly disappearing into the cold night. “I’d rather say you have been wanting me to do this, is that what you mean by showing me around?” He chuckled deeply, feeling your already flustered face, heated more.

You gasped a breath of relief when his hand unclasped your mouth, “N-no. I truly wanted to—“

“No need to lie, zaldrītsos. Your cunt tells me enough.” with that he gave your pearl of pleasure a slap, you jolted with a loud whine “Aemond, fuck!” Little dragon.

Your pleasure was short lived, however, when he wrapped his arm below your knees before pulling you up his shoulder. Hauled you up before strolling down the hall to where the royal apartment quarters sits.

“Put me down, Aemond!”

“Quiet.”

He playfully patted your arse as he make his way to what you presume to be his chamber. You did not get a good look if there were guards stationed outside, as you thought they would be— he is the prince after all, it’s not like he could care less.

Aemond slam the door shut, before he puts you down and you catch your breath.

“Aemond, what was th—mmmh!”

Your complaints were cut short when he pressed his lips against yours in a passionate manner, lips engulfing your own, as his tongue breached past to enter your hot cavern. His free hand move up to grasp your hair in a tight knot as he slowly move you back towards his bed, the back of your thighs hitting the edge.

His tongue continued to explore yours as his hands roam over your body, from your sensitive jugular to your taut breasts, belly and the conjuncture of your thighs. You let out a gasp of relief and shock as he pushed you to the bed.

Aemond wasted to time to flip you over and manhandled you so that you’re face down on the bed, your back in a perfect arch, silver locks flows beautifully— your arse is up in the air, whilst your feet dangled from the edge. Having ripped your evening attire off, you’re left bare. Cunt exposed. Needy, soaked, and desperate for his attention.

“Kostilus…” your begs are mere muffled mewls by now as he stood to admire your beauty. Gods. He has waited for this for a long time. Your betrothal might just be the cure to his raging agony. Please.

You heard a thud—“Oh Gods!” throwing your head back, as his cold fingers gathered your slick and run them along your folds, gently at first. You turn your head slightly to see him only to had your moans halted.

It’s Aemond, but he no longer wears his eye-patch. His sapphire gem shone bright under the moonlight that seeped through the night sky of King’s Landing. His soft lilac eyes gleamed too. You’re enthralled by his beauty, every marks and turns.

“My, my… you’re drenched. Desperate, aren’t we?” He scoffed at your agape mouth, feeling his 2 of his fingers entering your cunt with vigor, you closed your eyes tightly as you clench on him in instinct. “Ah ah, none of that, open them now, dove.”

Your eyes fluttered open as he commanded, “Look at me, Princess—“ you did with your eyes droopy and sinful lips parted in shallow breaths, “In less than a moon time, you shall find yourself in this situation, each night in our marital bed, ñuhys ābrazȳrys.” it delighted you, and heated the fire in your core to hear his devotion. My wife.

“Y-yes husband.”

Aemond groaned as he sped up his fingers, squelching noises now aloud bouncing off the walls, “Say it again for me.”

“ahh.. mmh! fuck— I am yours, husband, I promise by the Seven!” His fingers grazed your most sensitive spot, as his palm graze your pearl.

“After I claim you, I’d have anyone’s heads that dared to look at you as I do.” The silken sheets beneath your fingers now creased as you keep on clenching them, “Not that they will ever try, not after you begin to swell.” you arched your back with your toes curled, building release arose inside your belly, “with my seed, my babe, my heir.”

“fuck yes! yes yes! as many as you wish.. please, Aemond!”

“Come for me, little one. I’ll fill you up afterwards.” His free hand tangled itself on your silver locks to yank it back, your body shaking with your high so close, eyes teary with your lips wet, raw, and bitten. Truly a sight reserved only for the Gods.

One more brush of his palm against your pearl simultaneously with his fingers abusing your core, all of it was too much as you let out a silent scream, you came on his fingers.

“Good lord! Aemond…”

“Fuck, princess…” His fingers does not let up, however, and continues its assault inside your now gushing cunt. “You are Gods sent.” He whispered before pulling his fingers out slowly, watching you thrash on the bed, licking his fingers afterward.

“Beats the sweetest Westerosi wines.”

You have no more strength to reply as your legs felt like jelly, however the heat in your cheeks and race of your heart never cease, your eyes blink slowly when you heard the soft clad of his tunic, then followed by his cloth pants fell down the floor.

“Ae—mmh!” Toes curling at the feeling of the flushed hard tip of his cock gliding over your now oversensitive folds, “Ready, little dragon?” he teases the entrance of your weeping cunt as you whined,

“Just put it in— Oh!”

“You—fuck! you are greedy for a maiden.” He slowly thrust his tip inside you making you wince at the intrusion. “Aemond… it hurts…” you closed your eyes briefly for Aemond’s length is not to be messed with… long, width as thick, and curved on the tip. You wish you have more time in the future to admire him fully. “Shh shh, the pain will subside soon, little one, stay with me.”

To ease the pain, his fingers once again found haven on your clit, softly pressing as you jolt in overstimulation, “Mmnh.. please…” your body is writhing in both pain and pleasure, “Hells, you’re so tight.” He grunted, pushing inch by inch as your cunt accommodates his size, before pushing it in one thrust.

Your back arched deeply as your mouth agape, loud mewls and moans escapes them on a rapid rate, as you sure the guards will be able to hear by now. His free hand let go of your hand and move to place them on the slope of your hips before moving to pull almost every inch of his length, then slams it back down to the hilt.

“You f-fill me up so much, my prince.” Moans are now freely came out of your lips, as he continued his unrelenting pace, thrusts that are deep as well as it is hard, giving you no chance to catch your breath. You felt like you are flying with your dragon, its that high pleasure that are like no other. “and I shall do— fuck, again and again to ensure my seeds take.”

Though composed, you can hear his breathing shallower than usual, his thrusts are erratic yet remains a choking pace on you. Your fingers grasp the sheets so tightly, you’d have no excuse if the maids found it shred the next day. “My prince—“

“Close?” he can feel your cunt tightening, and holding a vice grip to his cock, the clench made him lose his mind. Gods, he’d stay inside of you all day if you let him, “I’d rather spend my life inside you than to deal with my cunt of a brother.”

“and… and i’d let you.” your voice are jagged, as your body thrown forward and backward following his pace, cock filling your walls— you can feel every vein and ridge, making their indents known to claim you. “What an obedient little wife you’d be.” he muttered with vigor, his hips never relenting to stop, always reaching your spot.

“Only for you, my—oh! my prince!” your peak is nearing, you can feel it so does he, fastening the fingers on your clit, “Come for me, little one. Do it.” He encouraged you, he leaned down and kissed your shoulder tenderly, “Avy jorrālean, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

“Av— aaah oh gods!” you threw your head back, back arching and, “Aemond!” you peak, coming from him harder than the last, body slumping to the sheets as your high took over. “Please… please, fill me up. put your h—heir inside of me.” You begged with the last ounce of your strength.

Your cunt clenching on his length so tight that he is so close to reaching his own release, “Gonna put a babe in you, gonna— fuck! watch you swell over and over again.” He groaned loudly, feeling himself getting lost on you, in you.

“Avy jorrālean.” You half whine and whispered, “fuck!” Aemond releases inside you, coming with his seed pumping you full, whispering your name over and over again, against the skin of your neck. I love you.

You both panted, he held your now full belly in his palm before sliding out of you gently— his actions so soft and light, a striking contrast to his earlier ministration. “Oh.. Princess..” He cooed tenderly at you when he flipped you over and look to where you’ve separated, eyes focusing on your mixed fluids. “stop looking its—“

“Ah ah, shush, little dragon. let me take care of you.” He kissed your lips once more before placing a soft pillow beneath your head.

There and then you knew that you might not marry the kindest man, nor the man you dream of in all seven realms, however, you knew in your lonely despair, being wed to Aemond would satisfy your affections. Soon thereafter, you marry and in less than a moon time your belly began to swell, and you can only wish to raise the babe with your husband in a safe unbroken house.

[godstrayed]

IN REGARDS TO MY EXCLUSIVELY SHIPPED MUSES: This is mostly a rambling for myself but I never thought I'd be doing or interested in single ship things. Mostly, because I like options & do not want to feel confined if something interested me HOWEVER I have recently amended my rules but never really drew any attention to it.

So I want to explain and set up some boundaries in regards to the subject!

I recently implemented various muses (both canon & ocs) as single ship. They're free to be written with but not in a romantic sense 'cause in all their verses their hearts are snatched by the muses they're written explicitly for. (A few are probably never going to be written platonically or otherwise against anyone else because I am not very comfortable with the idea. And just do not have any interest having them interact with any other muse tbh.)

And why? What made me change my mind? I think the idea of building a muse (ESPECIALLY the ocs as they were created for the desired plot) for another writer and deciding you both are building their universe/lore together. Feels like to me they kinda own the ideas and intellectual properties of said muse(s) with me. We're co-creating/writing our troublesome muses LMAO. And in the end, when the plot is expansive & as detailed as they tend to me I am not missing out on any type of interaction.

My muses, creativity, and desire to write is being well-fed that I do not need to seek outside ships for those muses.

I hope this doesn't deter people from writing with the ones I am open to platonically writing with others. As I think there is a lot to be explored outside of romantic connections. Furthermore, I think I am open to making more single-ship muses as long as they're given the time, energy, and dedication as needed. That aside, I still have a billion & one muses that aren't single ship & open to be written romantically - that being said, I hope you're not approaching me solely for those type of interactions because I love writing everything and it would be a little sad to me solely to be approached for that reason.

Thank you for reading my rambles & ted talk. It's very messy so feel free to approach me with questions or clarifications if needed. [All single ship muses are noted in my muse list if you're wandering whomst!]

[streetlamp-amber]

GUIDELINES

about the author + blog rules

⤾ NAVIGATION 　　 → MASTERLIST

✧˖*°࿐ABOUT THE AUTHOR

.·:*¨ ailís — 23 — they/them (okay with girl gendered terms) — bisexual enby ¨*:·.

ꕤ — i’m bilingual, my first language is french but i only write in english (though i might incorporate french in some fics/one shots).

ꕤ — i'm back in school for the first time after dropping out of college four years ago so i'm struggling with keeping my school-work-social-activist life balanced (because yes i also got involved with my university's student committee for Palestine literally during the first week of class). i'm currently a free student, meaning i'm in no particular bachelors program, and i'm hesitating between majoring in art history or photography. i won't be following any posting schedule on here, i write when i have time to and i'm a little bit of a perfectionist so i won't rush myself to fulfill your requests with writing that i'm not satisfied of.

ꕤ — things i like: blueberry bagels with cream cheese, autumn, concert photography, poetry, music (arctic monkeys, lorde, blur, wallows, inhaler, fontaines dc), movies (studio ghibli, nolan’s dark knight trilogy, irish cinema, french cinema), tv shows (peaky blinders, broadchurch, derry girls, true detective, doctor who, the sopranos, new girl), sports (montreal canadiens, liverpool fc, celtic fc, f1), the colour green, europe (but not england or germany), cillian murphy, david tennant, art museums, batman.

ꕤ — i’ve been writing fanfiction for years (it all started with very poorly written one direction imagines on instagram and wattpad when i was thirteen…), improving both my writing skills and my english vocab + grammar along the way. my earliest works available are from 2021 (on ao3) because i’m too ashamed of anything posted before that (and it was also very bad).

ꕤ — i’m very multifandom and will mostly write content related to my most recent hyperfixations. there’s a list down below with all the characters i read and am interested in writing fanfiction for.

✧˖*°࿐WRITING + RULES

ꕤ — this blog will be mostly dedicated to one shots, blurbs, headcanons, drabbles and maybe short series.

i do write long series on wattpad (and also on ao3 but that one is currently on hold). i’m in the middle of a friends series rewrite with a joey tribbiani x female oc storyline that i’m very invested in (this might be the first multi chaptered fanfic i ever complete). i also started writing a tenth doctor x witch oc au but i’m taking much longer to update this one as it will mostly be original episodes instead of following the doctor who storyline. i also have a tommy shelby x oc fic that’s been on hold for a year that i plan on eventually getting back into writing.

ꕤ — i honestly don’t really care about canon (especially when it comes to stuff like the dc universe). i will always respect identity traits that are important to the character like race, sexuality, disability, etc., but i might get ooc sometimes when it comes to their personalities.

ꕤ — i will try to keep my reader inserts as physically vague as possible except if it’s indicated that the reader is afab. however, i am physically disabled with chronic pain so i might incorporate some aspects related to that in my writing (it will be indicated at the beginning of the post).

ꕤ — i am okay with minors interacting with my sfw writings but if i see anyone under the age of 18 interacting with nsfw stuff you will be blocked. i can’t stop you from reading it but i am not comfortable with you interacting with that content.

ꕤ — requests will be answered once i’m done writing them. i will try my best to do so as fast as possible but i tend to write multiple works at once so if you see me post other things after you sent your request, don’t get deterred. if you send a request i don’t want to write, i’ll reply to the ask to also let others know not to request something similar.

ꕤ — do not translate, copy or publish my work on other platforms without my permission.

!! DO NOT REQUEST !!

major character death (canon or non-canon), underage reader or character, incest, any kink involving fluids, noncon/dubcon, self harm, eating disorders, yandere, abuse, manipulation, butt stuff, cheating/infidelity, a/b/o

✧˖*°࿐CHARACTER LIST

✵ doctor who

⋆ tenth doctor

✵ peaky blinders

⋆ tommy shelby

✵ dc universe

⋆ batman/bruce wayne ⋆ batmom/batfamily ⋆ scarecrow

✵ bridgerton

⋆ benedict bridgerton

✵ supernatural

⋆ dean winchester

✵ broadchurch

⋆ alec hardy

✵ true detective

⋆ rust cohle

✵ harry potter

⋆ sirius black ⋆ barty crouch jr ⋆ fred weasley

✵ glen powell characters

⋆ tyler owens ⋆ jake 'hangman' seresin

last updated 27 january 2025.  　　 divider by @saradika

[impeccablebackside]

Queens like double penetration?

I appreciate the question anon. There has admittedly been little to no talk about double penetration on this blog. I personally am more of a one-on-one type of person most of the time. The caveat you can probably guess would be threesomes, particularly with one guy and two girls (who could ever not like those in all fairness).

That all being said there is obviously going to be some good thoughts to be had when you throw another cock in the mix with any of the queens. For the intent of your ask, I will discuss double penetration as being the traditional one in the the pink and one in the stink fun times, as well as double vaginal penetration if applicable. For some perspective on anal in general, see this ask or this one about assholes.

Personally, I am 100% down with fucking a girl in whichever hole they offer to put it bluntly. I am admittedly wary of having another guy around in a situation like a DP because I am unequivocally dedicated to the girl only, but it is not lost on me how pleasurable it could / must be to be served like that in the girl's perspective. My appreciation for any girl enjoying themselves during sex far outweighs the apprehension.

Anyway, in the junkyard where all kinds of sex is subjectively more commonplace and accepted, my opinion would be that DPs still end up being a more reserved thing.

Vic cannot handle a double penetration and honestly it would not be something she would want to begin with. She is much too sensitive for more pleasure on top of being fucked, and finds anal activities to be mostly uncomfortable to the point that there is an agreement amongst her partners not to try it. The closest they have ever gotten was when Plato snuck a part of a finger into her ass while her was plowing her from behind. The jolt made Vic cum on the spot from the rush of surprise pleasure, but resulted in her kicking Plato hard in reaction as her body shook. It has not deterred him from wanting to do it again though. Otherwise, her and Plato's intmacy is a divine gift that would be ruined by another tom. Plus, Plato is not up to sharing his queen whatsoever.

Rumple is open to DPs because she is willing to try anything within reason at least once. While she does not enjoy anal all that much, she has nothing against it if someone wants to take her perfect ass for a ride. She does not find herself in a situation with two toms very often if ever, but being fucked so thoroughly could never possibly end poorly. The squeals and moans she makes are even louder, as she lets herself be dominated by two toms. Given her smaller size, the pleasure she gets from her tight pussy and ass being filled makes her cum over and over again, and she loves when it gets overstimulating. She would be so full and tight for either tom, their little fucktoy of sorts. Her getting utterly destroyed like that is such a good thought anon.

Aside from that, if she could accommodate a double vaginal penetration, she would totally try it. However, she simply could not fit that much in her, not matter how much the stretching would make her legs weak. She has to settle for some lighter fisitng when things get frisky.

Tanto is rarely open to an phallic penetration (even less so from toms), so DPs in any form will always stay as a no. Sorry boys. She is certainly willing to let another queen finger both her pussy and ass as much as they want though.

Cass prefers it just being her and one other partner most of the time. Her ass is an ultimate reward for those she deems worthy (and man) enough, so when she lets someone fuck it there is only the two of them. She will finger her perfect pussy when taken it in the backside, sinking most of fingers into her soft and wet heat before she cums. The sensation from being filled in both holes makes her extra horny.

While two cocks in her pussy would probably make her see the Everlasting Cat, the way it swells as she is being fucked means that it would be too tight after a few minutes. Plus, she would rarely be in the mood to allow two toms take advantage like that.

Bomba likes to let loose every so often, and what better way than to have Tugger and Misto both fucking her at the same time. Either tom will take either hole, but Tugger does try to 'reserve' her ass because he does not get to fuck it often. That is fine with Misto, as her pussy is even better to fuck. In a fit of thrusts and moans, they often find themselves all cumming at the same time, and getting her ass and pussy filled with cum is one of Bomba's favourite things.

All three would like to try a double vaginal, and it could work out. The sensation for all three is something that would be impossible to get in any other situation, and the level of pleasure would create a new high as Bomba would get dizzy from the stretch, and both toms would revel in the silky feel of the queen's pussy and the other cock rubbing against their own.

Deme has made it a universal rule that no one is permitted to fuck her ass, so DPs are off the table. Double vaginals are not an option either. Reasonably, she is also a one-tom only type of queen, so she always gets her man to herself.

Jenny is the queen of DPs. In fact, it is probably her favourite type of sex. She perfectly welcomes multiple partners to fill every orifice, including her mouth, and fuck her without any restrictions. She is wild enough to let two toms fuck her fat pussy at the same time while another fucks her ass. An orgy / fuckfest where she is the center of attention or the only queen is her dream, so the more the better.

Jelly is surprisingly more open to it than one would believe. Her enjoyment of getting her ass fingered slowly translated to an openess to have someone fuck her ass. Even getting her still-tight pussy stretched out with two cocks is not off the table. Any form of DPs are rather uncommon, but when they do happen, Jelly definitely enjoys it. Playing into her mild degradation kink as well, she feels like such a dirty slut when she is being used like that. The orgasms hit very hard.

[electragaming]

Language (and how the US is tightening its grip on mass media worldwide)

I am, again, reporting on an obsession, a passion, perhaps, a fresh spark, if you will. :3

This time, it's languages (and some other things later on)! Shocker, I know. Everyone and their mother is into that nowadays in queer online spaces. Not that I meet a lot of mothers in here, sadly. It's all just weird little guys (gender neutral). Now, I would hardly call myself a "linguist" or anything like that. But when has a lack of expertise ever deterred anyone on the internet from having crazy opinions?

With that said,

ELECTRA'S OPINION OF THE DAY:

(some of) Y'all are way too unwilling to like other cultures and languages. You keep pointing your fingers at French's orthography, or make fun of German for sounding "rough" (and ideally bring up the Nazis), or get all weird about Arabic's "unusual" (read: post-velar and scary to the English speaker) consonant inventory. (Those are just the ones I see the most often and not representative of every language in existence!)

The thing is, all of these are beautiful! Every single one of those languages, and all the other ones too, are really, truly wonderful! And the best thing is, you do not have to understand the words to engage with it to find the beauty in it that its speakers have watered and cared for for millennia. Sure, you can go and study it, you can devote your time and put effort in preserving the language, allowing others to care for what you have grown to love; this is noble and so, so important, yes, but it's not all that matters. What matters is cherishing and loving languages, and cultures, other than the one you run into most!

Maybe you should check out that weird experimental album you were recommended by your overseas friend whose English, while impressive, is still lacking in some aspects. You can't really blame them for that; you barely even know what language they speak. (And I promise the album would have been extremely influential and well known if they wrote it in English!) Maybe you should stand up for that person in your neighborhood who moved in rather recently and doesn't know how to speak the language people around you expect them to!

Or maybe, you can support and love and cherish stories and poetry and all kinds of things from all around the world. It doesn't matter that you have to read the translation (where there is someone dedicated enough to make one) instead of just being able to use the language that it was made in mind with; you're still showing support and love to those creators, supporting all sorts of odd little works in all corners of the world that are dying to be experienced, but often cannot be, because they aren't cared for by enough people. It's easier for everyone to give in and just import whatever Disney came up with.

It isn't worth it, though.

Some time ago, I saw screenshots of an old cartoon from my area with what were mostly Americans falling in love with it at first sight. There was some fan art and a lot of discussion. I think about that a lot. It might not have been as big as whatever media dominate the market, but it felt very genuine and it moved me in ways I really wasn't expecting.

Thanks for caring about us, if you did. If you didn't, that's okay! I do, however, invite you to watch it if you'd like. And you're in luck. It's all out there on the internet, for free!

As usual, thanks for reading! Love, Electra <3

[sh1rotsuk1]

"UNEXPECTED RUNNER UP"

During my time as a grade 11 student, I made the decision to challenge myself by joining a pageant event on the sports fest day at school. Excited yet incredibly nervous, I embarked on this journey with high hopes and determination.

Right from the start, I encountered numerous hardships. I struggled to walk with confidence and not shy away. Rigorous training sessions demanded physical endurance and mental fortitude being my first pageant, I had no idea what to do, thankfully my pageant partner was cooperative and taught me with the choreography, walk, and script. Balancing academics with intense practice schedules proved to be a daunting task. Late-night study sessions followed by after-class practice sessions became the norm. There were moments when my partner almost gave up on me for not improving quickly enough. With only two weeks to go, the pressure to give up was immense. However, I knew that with enough time and effort, I could improve. Therefore, I refused to give up, even when each practice left me exhausted. I was determined to push through.

As the competition drew nearer, the pressure mounted. Memorizing choreography and mastering various skills required unwavering dedication and countless hours of practice. Doubt crept in at times, but I refused to let it deter me from my goal.

Amidst the physical challenges, there were also moments of self-doubt and insecurity. Comparing myself to others, I questioned whether I had what it takes to succeed. Overcoming these internal battles was perhaps the toughest part of the journey. It required resilience, self-belief, and unwavering confidence in my abilities.

On the day of the pageant, nerves were at an all-time high. Stepping onto the stage in front of a crowd filled me with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The bright lights, the cheering audience, and the judging eyes added to the intensity of the moment.

I gave everything my power and abilities could muster. I danced with all my heart during the opening dance and exuded confidence during the runway walk, which I had polished during my practices. In the last segment of the event, the announcement of the winners, I couldn't believe it when I was named the 1st runner-up. Though I may not have been the champion, I felt relief and happiness that all my hard work had paid off.

Despite the hardships and challenges, participating in the sports fiesta pageant was an incredibly rewarding experience, I am truly grateful for my pageant partner that stayed with me through the journey and for everyone in my class that supported me, especially the crowd who cheered for me and the last grade 12 TVL batch who attended and gave their support to me, which helped me solidify my resolved. The experience taught me the importance of perseverance, resilience, and believing in myself. While I may not have emerged as the champion, the lessons learned and the memories made will stay with me forever.

[jahayla-parker]

writing prompt "Are you calling me a liar?" "Well, I ain't calling you a truther, bud." for character of choice

Lying Bastard : Kaz Brekker x Reader Part 1

Part 2 here, Mini-Series Navigation here

Description: roughly 10k wc, Pt1 (both up already) Kaz ends his relationship with the reader and sends her away after she makes a mistake during a heist. But fortunately for Kaz, Jesper senses he’s lying and tries to get to the bottom of it.

Mini Series Themes/tropes/etc.: hurt-comfort, angst-fluff, handwritten letters, kaz x Reader, crow!reader, soc themes, etc.

Warnings: angst, some curse words, standard soc type material, slight SaB (BOOK) spoiler (referenced but not stated)

Notes: this is part 1 of an optional mini-series. You can end at whichever part without problems / to get a different aesthetic or ending. There are two parts.

Dedicated in honor of @ell0ra-br3kk3r ‘s birthday! 💜

Thank you @rpmemes-galore for the prompt suggestion/request!

“You know why” Kaz argued harshly, glaring at y/n.

She furrowed her brows, “are you serious right now?”

He rolled his eyes, “when am I not?”

She halted her actions, staring at him in shock.

Kaz discretely bit his inner lip but held his ground; not letting the pained look in her eyes deter him.

“Kaz, it was one mistake” she argued, her eyes stinging with tears as she saw the determination in his facial features.

He didn’t respond, only shifting his weight off his bad leg as he stared at the suitcase he placed on her bed.

“You’re seriously b-… you’re breaking up with me and kicking me out of the slat over one mistake?” She choked, shaking her head at him.

“You’re leaving for safety reasons” He stated simply before signaling to the suitcase.

“Get out” she stated weakly.

Kaz clenched his jaw and tightened the grip on his cane.

“I said, get out!” She snapped, opening the door for him aggressively.

“You do not give the orders around here y/n, and-“ he remarked, staring at her with his normal scowl, one he never used on her before.

“I’m well aware of that, believe me” she scoffed, “and don’t worry, I’m leaving”.

Kaz nodded, “good”.

She watched as Kaz limped out of her room, slamming the door behind him.

Y/n sniffed as she tried not to cry.

She couldn’t cry over him, she wouldn’t let herself.

Sure she made a mistake, but so had every other Crow at some point.

She could understand Kaz feeling he had to be more strict with her to maintain the way the others saw him and their relationship.

But, this was far past that line he always cautiously walked.

During the heist, y/n had forgotten to lock a door behind her as they fled a heist.

Kaz reprimanded her, stating that someone would then notice the item was missing.

It hasn’t happened yet, but Kaz told her it was only a matter of time.

She was already disappointed in herself, so she’d been understanding initially over his frustration.

The longer between the theft and its detection would form a greater chance for their group to have been undetected and another team being misperceived as the culprits.

In other words, her mistake meant she risked earlier detection and therefore their group being connected to it and the necklace being stolen back since the mark would know who it was that’d taken it.

However, it wasn’t a life or death mistake, unlike ones the other crows had made before without this severe of a consequence.

Yet, after giving y/n the silent treatment for a few days, today Kaz went to her room and snapped at her.

He simply told her it was over between them and that she’d need to leave.

At first, when Kaz told her that he was disgusted by this mistake but wouldn’t be cruel and instead had arranged a new residence for her, she assumed he was joking.

Kicking her out and breaking it off was drastic, something only Dirtyhands might consider.

But, if Dirtyhands had been the force behind it, he wouldn’t have gotten her a new residence.

It didn’t make any sense.

She nearly fell over with laughter as Kaz told her she’d be staying at the little palace with the Ravkan king, Nikolai Lantsov.

How he even knew the king, let alone struck a deal with him, was intriguing; even if he was Kaz Brekker.

Yet she couldn’t get herself to ask those questions once she saw the truth in his eyes.

He was serious, he was ending it and sending her to Ravka.

As she replayed the events again in her mind, her tears burst through the walls she tried to put up and poured down her cheeks.

To make matters worse, tomorrow would have marked her 5th anniversary with Kaz.

She knew he still struggled with relationships and emotions, but it hurt that he didn’t seem phased by these orders he gave her nor the timing of it.

She wiped her face on the back of her hand before she began literally throwing things into the case on her bed.

Kaz sat at his desk, his head in his hands as he tried to steady his breath.

He didn’t want to do this but he had to.

If he let her stay, if he stayed with her, he feared it could be fatal.

He glared at the messy notes on his desk, crumpling a few and tossing them across his room.

Never in the last seven years since being with her would he have seen himself sending y/n away.

Only once in the last five years since they began dating would he have expected to be the one ending their relationship.

And that went away when they’d talked about how she’d be able to stay safe despite them being together.

Yet, here he was, sitting alone at his desk, eyes nearly watering, as he recalled doing just that.

He doubted he’d ever forgive himself for causing the expression that fell on her face when realizing he was serious.

But he also would never forgive himself if he didn’t do this and something happened to her.

“Are you ready?” Kaz asked firmly, watching as y/n sat at her desk writing a note.

Y/n glared over at him, but the faint remainder of tears in her eyes nearly broke him.

She held up one finger to signal him to wait.

Kaz sighed and leaned on her doorframe as he glanced down the hall to ensure no one was coming.

He watched as she slid her chair back after she finished securing the note and placed it to the side of her desk, atop a pile of similar ones.

“Ready” y/n said, voice wavering slightly but she fought to key her composure as she harshly pulled the case off her bed.

“Leave the bag” Kaz ordered.

“Excuse me?” She paused, “maybe you can kick me out, but these things are mine”.

Kaz nodded once, “it will get to you”.

She stared at him in shocked understanding, “You don’t want the others knowing, do you?”

Kaz groaned, “I don’t believe that is your business any longer”.

Y/n scoffed, “they’ll know soon enough, you have no reason to stop that”.

He gritted his teeth as he bit back explaining to her why that could not happen.

Kaz smirked, “I don’t need a reason”.

“They’ll figure it out” She muttered, putting her notebook and pens into her inner coat pocket.

Kaz shook his head, “they will not. I’ve sent them out for the evening. I’ll be letting them know to not communicate with you. And you will not communicate with them either”.

Y/n laughed coldly, “how are you going to manage that Brekker?”

He pushed the exit open, pointing her in the direction of her ride, “the same way I managed you residing elsewhere “.

“You’re going to have the King stop me from writing to them?!” She shouted.

Kaz forced himself to roll his eyes, “if that’s what it takes. And you can be as loud as you wish, they’re too far to hear you resist the consequences of your actions”.

Y/n pressed her lips into a firm line as she looked around, debating if she should give up a guaranteed residence in order to flee.

Kaz gripped his cane tighter, effortlessly reading this decision in her eyes and despising himself for promoting it.

But, it was what he expected; what he accounted for.

“You cannot run, the king’s brought guards to ensure you get on his ship” Kaz told her.

“What does he get in return?” Y/n questioned fearfully.

Kaz glared, “you don’t actually believe I’d do what you’re suggesting!?”

She crossed her arms, facing him with a furious stare, “I don’t know what, or who, to believe anymore”.

He internally flinched at her harsh tone but simply shook his head, “it isn’t that. He owes me”.

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Why waste the favor on me? You could just kick me out fully or kill me, you know”.

“I would not kill you” Kaz stated with a glare, “and the ‘why’ doesn’t matter”

“And if I refuse to go with him?” She pressed.

“Where else would you go?” Kaz scoffed.

“Does it matter? I am capable of providing for myself Brekker” she defended.

Kaz sighed firmly, “no I suppose it does not matter. Nonetheless, the deal is the deal and you will be staying in Ravka”.

“Ms. Y/l/n, let’s go” Someone said before she could argue with Kaz again.

She turns to see Sturmhond, a privateer they’d worked with on a previous heist.

“You?” She asks, looking between Sturmhond and Kaz.

Kaz ignored her and nodded at Sturmhond.

“Whatever” She groaned, knowing if she wanted her stuff back she’d need to comply for now at least.

She noticed Kaz seemed almost pleased at her cooperation.

Of course he was, now he didn’t have to deal with her and her failures.

“Y/n,” She barely heard Kaz’s whisper over the wind as she stepped closer to the ship.

But, she refused to acknowledge him; instead lifting her head higher and speeding up to increase the distance.

Kaz sighed to himself as he watched Sturmhond guide her into his ship before nodding at Kaz.

“Get out” Kaz barked, not turning to even face Inej as he entered his room.

“No, you cannot just not tell me where y/n is” Inej growled, having impatiently waited in his room for his return.

Kaz tossed his hat towards the corner of the room, his coat following.

“Brekker! Where is she?” Inej questioned, glancing at the mess he was making, “did you two break up?”.

Kaz bit hard on his cheek as he shut his eyes, “she’s gone, Wraith”.

Inej faltered at the poorly hidden crack in his voice and the possible meaning behind his words, “w-what?”

Kaz, of course, caught on to her misinterpretation, already having been planning on it.

So he utilized it as planned, “You heard me. She’s gone and…”

He swallowed, the underlying truth behind the words stinging, “She’s not coming back. She cannot come back”.

It was silent for a moment as Kaz stared at the bed, already missing the way y/n would sit with her legs crisscrossed on the end as she needlessly helped Kaz with the plans for the crows’ next heist.

Inej eventually left without another word, fleeing to isolate herself in her room.

“Kaz, seriously, Jesper is going stir crazy” Wylan pointed out while his boyfriend sat at one of his favorite gambling dens, yet again.

“That’s my problem because?” Kaz remarked, shifting a book over the piece of the paper he’d been writing on.

Wylan noticed and suppressed a smile at the fact that despite his reading disability, Kaz still treated him as if he could encipher the material if he saw it.

“He’s burning through his credits you installed. We need a heist, surely you’ve got something” Wylan argued.

Kaz glowered up at him, “excuse me?”

“It’s been months without a heist! And you’ve been cooped up in your office for nearly three weeks without sending us on anything, we’re not even pick pocketing, so it must be a big heist you’re planning. I assume that’s what is under the book” Wylan pointed out.

Kaz gritted his teeth, to him it felt like far longer than a mere three weeks in isolation and centuries instead months since that night.

His eyes burned as he tried to keep his gaze away from the letter under the book on his desk.

“What is under the book is of no business to you” Kaz spat, “but, send him in”.

Wylan gave Kaz a questioning look but nodded, pleased things were going to get back to normal.

Sure he missed and grieved for y/n too, but his boyfriend Jesper had been acting weird ever since Kaz broke the news to Inej.

Wylan was certain he was in denial still, but Jesper wouldn’t speak about it.

“Why are you burning through your credit faster than normal?” Kaz asked, not looking up from his messy desk.

Jesper plopped into the chair across from Kaz with an eye roll, “I’m bored “.

“There’s more than that Jesper, be honest” Kaz rebutted.

Jesper scoffed, “that’s hypocritical”.

Kaz glanced up from his table to look at him, “if you have something to say, do so”.

Sitting up straight, Jesper leaned forward towards Kaz, “you’re hiding something”.

Kaz forced a smirk, “of course I am”.

Rolling his eyes for what felt like the millionth time, Jesper groaned, “about y/n”.

Kaz’s eyes widened briefly before flashing a sorrowful glow, his lips twitching slightly.

It all lasted for less than two seconds, but Jesper caught note of it.

“See, that! I know something happened to her” Jesper declared.

Kaz stiffened, his eyes burning into Jesper’s skin, “I already told Inej… she-“

Jesper cut him off with a dramatic head shake, “She’s not dead” Jesper stated confidently.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Kaz questioned, grinding his teeth.

“Well, I ain't calling you a truther, bud." Jesper retorted.

Kaz stood up abruptly, “I’m done with this nonsense. Get out”.

“No” Jesper whispered defiantly, Kaz turning to shoot him an icy look.

“Not until you tell me where she is and what happened. I know she’s not dead” Jesper argues.

Kaz just stares at him in silence, his mind once again failing to process normally.

It had been like this since she’d departed, he couldn’t think clearly, much less do his normal scheming.

“Where’s y/n?” Jesper pushes, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jesper notices the distant look in Kaz’s eyes, but knows it’s not distant enough for Jesper to believe she’s actually dead.

“You may be the worst person with emotions, literally ever. But I’ve known you far too long Kaz. I know you’d be reacting much differently if she were actually dead” Jesper explains, his voice firm but low in volume.

Kaz purses his lips, his hand on his cane tightening.

“You want to know why I’ve been gambling more? Because of this” Jesper stated, his voice cracking, “it’s driving me crazy Kaz. Where in saints sake is she?!”

Looking around the room until his gaze pauses for a split second on the stack of letters on his desk, Kaz swallows thickly.

Jesper follows his stare and hurriedly launches himself towards the desk before Kaz has time to hobble over and stop him.

“You’re writing to her?!” Jesper gasped as he read y/N’s name on the address line of the first letter he grabbed.

Kaz growled, reaching his gloved hand out, “let go of them”.

“Not until you explain what is going on!” Jesper argued, unfolding the letter.

Reaching out and gently tugging on the corner of the letter in Jesper’s hand as to not rip it, Kaz starts a silent staring contest with his sharpshooter.

“I’m not giving in this time Kaz. Y/n mattered to me. To all of us. The others might believe she’s dead, but I know better. I know you better. Now explain or I’ll read each damn letter to find out for myself” Jesper threatened.

Kaz’s eyes flickering to his swooping handwritten emotions on the letter in Jesper’s hand.

Sighing in annoyance Kaz gave him one firm nod.

Jesper lets go of the note, smugly sitting back down in the chair before Kaz‘s desk.

“You have to be kidding me” Jesper exclaims exasperatedly.

Kaz gives him a knowing look, “I don’t kid”.

“Right… right… no I know that” Jes responds as he tries to comprehend the situation.

“It’s just… I always thought of you as this insanely smart mastermind type guy” Jesper chuckles mockingly, “but you’re really just an idiot”.

Glaring harshly, his jaw tight, Kaz shakes his head at Jesper, “you don’t know what you’re talking about “.

“Yes I do” Jesper responded as he calmed himself down.

Before Kaz could speak, Jesper continued, “you’re in love with her. That’s why you sent her away”.

Kaz shifted his jaw, rubbing his upper teeth over his bottom teeth as he debated about lying.

“It makes sense now. I knew there was something there. But saints you’re dumb Kaz. She can protect herself!” Jesper scoffed.

“She shouldn’t have to!” Kaz shouted, his hand hitting the table before them.

He didn’t need to hear this; not from Jesper.

He’d already debated on whether or not he made the wrong choice.

But in the end, each time, he concluded her safety was worth it.

Worth everything.

Even if it meant Kaz not being in her life anymore.

“It’s the barrel Kaz! She has to on a normal basis regardless” Jesper argued.

“Not anymore” Kaz spoke simply.

“That’s what you meant by ‘she’s in a better place’. How no one picked up in that given your lack of belief in a higher power is beyond me” Jesper rambled.

Rolling his eyes, Kaz waved his hand in the air dismissively, “you got your answer. Now leave”.

“You don’t miss her?” Jesper asked softly, missing her himself.

Kaz closed his eyes, his hand tugging on his choppy hair.

“Of course you do” Jesper smirked, “I mean, saints, the Kaz Brekker is writing love letters!”.

Kaz snapped his eyes open and glared harshly across the table, “they are not love letters”.

“If you say so” Jesper teased, “regardless, we can fix this”.

Kaz’s gruff exterior faltered as hope hit him but as he looked at the returned letters on his desk, he shook his head.

They’d all been marked ‘return to sender’ without ever having been opened.

The only times Kaz would get a response to a letter he wrote was when he would write to his Ravkan confidant asking how y/n was and if she was safe and healthy.

But nothing from her, she didn’t even bother opening the letters from him.

His confidant claimed he’d attempted to provide her with the letters but that she refused and ordered them to be sent back.

The small glimmer of hope in Kaz wanted to deny that idea, and instead blame it on the notion that maybe there was something between his confidant and y/n by now.

After all, he could provide her with a far better, and safer, life; hence why she was there now.

But, his confidant’s explicit wording that she’d ordered him to return them was a clear message to Kaz it wasn’t that.

Only y/n would order the King of Ravka to do anything, much less something this menial.

And only if she were truly pissed.

“Stop writing to her” Jesper’s voice cut through the tangled thoughts in Kaz’s brain.

“What?” He asked, not having taken the moment to make his voice as firm as normal.

“She’s not reading them. The threat is over, let’s go there in person to bring her back” Jesper suggested.

“She does not want to come back Jesper. You need to accept it, I have” Kaz stated harshly.

“You have not” Jesper scoffed, “and you cannot know what she wants without talking to her”.

“I’ve tried!” Kaz defended loudly.

Jesper sighed, “I know. But it’s time you try a new tactic. The Kaz Brekker I know wouldn’t let the failure of one plan be the end of the mission”.

“What mission Jesper?” Kaz groaned.

“Fixing your relationship” Jesper smirked, “and bringing our girl back here”.

Shaking his head, Kaz sighed, “I forced her to do something she didn’t want once; for her own protection, but still. I won’t do it again, she deserves better than that”.

Jesper nodded, “then don’t force her. But show up. Show her how you feel, I can practically guarantee she’ll be coming back with us after that”.

Kaz sighed; his mind and heart at war.

He wanted to do as Jesper said, not ready to give her up.

Yet, he knew it was weak of him to want such things, and that it could end in his further despair.

“I’ll skip gambling for a week when we get back if you go” Jesper offered, knowing kaz well enough to know he’d need a logical justification to go.

“Fine, go pack” Kaz agreed gruffly.

Smiling widely, Jesper stood, “no need, got my babies right here”.

Kaz rolled his eyes but nodded, shoving the letters into the locked drawer on his desk as he stood.

“Now, let’s go bring your girl home” Jesper cheered, walking to the door of Kaz’s office with new found enthusiasm.

Y/n snuck behind one of King Nikolai’s guards that was standing in the hallway, silently slipping into the ballroom behind them.

Her end goal was the library, hoping to get her hands on some new reading material.

Nikolai tried to keep her entertained but since she was here out of an obligation to Kaz and not an actual member of his court, there was only so much he could include her in.

So, reading had become her escape.

She’d read countless novels from within the castle’s archives by now.

She even went as far as reading books on the history of Ravka and surrounding territories; despite the material being utterly uninteresting to her.

The one thing she vowed never to read though were the letters Nikolai claimed were from Kaz.

Y/n had learned the King’s tells by now so she knew he wasn’t lying when he told her who they were from.

Yet she struggled with the notion that Kaz Brekker, the notorious bastard of the barrel, had written letters to her.

Not that it mattered.

As much as the notion intrigued her, she refused to let herself cave into reading even a single line from one.

She’d never even broken the seal on the letters before returning them to Nikolai.

At first the King seemed shocked, but by now they’d played this routine for months.

It no longer shocked Nikolai when she told him to return the letters without even glancing down at the envelopes.

What did shock Nikolai was why Kaz continued to write to her.

He understood Kaz’s concern and reasoning for using his owed favor on y/n.

He even understood why Kaz wrote to the king himself to check on her well-being.

Yet, he couldn’t fathom why the boy kept writing letters that would never be read, only to watch them return to him unopened.

He couldn’t imagine the hurt that most accompany such deliveries, let alone why he’d continue to subject himself to it.

Nevertheless, Nikolai would read the encoded letter Kaz sent him and pull the attached private letter to y/n from within that envelope.

Hiding the personal letter to y/n within a professional one to the Ravkan King was overkill, both men knew it; but Nikolai never commented and Kaz never faltered in his excessive protective measures.

Much like Kaz’s overkill with the letters, y/n was overdoing her actions in the palace; but for very different reasons.

She didn’t truly need to sneak around the palace.

Nikolai was far more than welcoming and let her do as she wished, so long as she didn’t exit the castle without one of his guards with her.

She assumed it was a measure to ensure she didn’t try to flee from the walls of his property, ensuring the King didn’t break his deal with kaz.

However, it was actually a requirement within Kaz’s detailed instructions to the King to ensure her safety.

Yet, after needlessly sneaking past the guards in the hallway, she got into position to repeat the action behind those in the ballroom as well.

It was the only real thing that made her feel more connected to her past.

To the barrel and her life there.

To Ketterdamn and the constant fight to survive.

To Inej, Nina, Jesper, Wylan, and Matthias; the friends she dearly missed.

And, as much as she despised the feeling and the pull of her still being connected to him, to Kaz.

It was still second nature for her to evade guards and stadwatch, so despite not having been home in months, her feet didn’t hesitate or misstep as she glided soundlessly past the guards.

Smiling to herself as she stood in front of the large library doors which were closed behind her, y/N’s eager eyes scanned the vast shelves and colorful book edges.

Deciding on what subject she’d try to read about today, the girl rushed towards the necessary part of the library to begin her search.

Meanwhile, King Nikolai was in his Royal office when one of his personal guards announced he had unexpected visitors.

Upon learning the identity of said guests, he permitted his guards to let them enter before asking for privacy.

Kaz stood before him, as rigid as always, but his in person presence signaled to Nikolai that something was off.

His sharpshooter -Jesper, Nikolai recalled- was roaming the room, his eyes shining as his hands touched anything within reach.

Noticing the cause for Nikolai’s distracted state, Kaz smacked his cane loudly on the floor.

Jesper’s hands immediately fell to his sides as he tucked his lips in and joined Kaz’s side.

“To what do I owe for your presence?” Nikolai asked, leaning bank in his chair slightly.

“Y/n” Kaz stated without hesitation, but his voice didn’t contain as much strength as it normally did.

“She’s safe, I just responded in kind to your most recent letter on the topic” the King assured him.

“Can we see her?” Jesper interrupted since unlike Kaz, he was not bothering to hide his desperation.

Nikolai raised an eyebrow, turning his head to Kaz, “I was under the impression your presence would bring her harm “

Kaz’s already dark eyes narrowed as he glowered at his Ravkan confidant, “if that were still the case, I would not be anywhere near here”.

His words were simple but the tone and finality behind it were sharp.

Nikolai steepled his hands with a nod, “The threat has been taken care of then?”.

Jesper could sense Kaz’s anger grow and one look at his boss told him Kaz didn’t appreciate the continued insinuation that he’d risk y/n’s safety.

“You seem to have forgotten that I am the one who sent her here for her protection. I do not need your opinion on the matter. Of course it’s been taken care of” Kaz started harshly, his judging eyes analyzing the King.

Nikolai smirked, “I admit, I did not forget such details and that all may well be true. What I’m confused on rather is why now “.

Kaz felt the leather of his glove stretch as he squeezed the top of his cane.

“The threat is over” Jesper said, but his confusion made it sound more like a question.

The Ravkan nodded, “ahh yes, but the threat has been over for several weeks now. So I ask again, what’s changed?”

Kaz took an aggressive step forward, eyes firmly focused on the king’s, “Where is she?”

“These were your rules Brekker “ The King smirked, pleased to finally be able to irritate Kaz with his unnecessary persistence, the way Kaz had to Nikolai these past months.

A stinging sigh left Kaz’s tight lips, “I’m here to bring her home”.

Jesper grinned proudly at his friend, completely ignoring the rest of the situation.

Seeing how the slightly troubled look in Kaz’s eyes juxtaposed with his otherwise determined demeanor, Nikolai relented.

“Since the threat has been resolved, should she wish to leave, the terms have been met and we’re even” the king stated.

“What do you mean should she want to leave?” Jesper questioned.

“Part of the terms your boss composed were that upon the conclusion of the threat, that no one, not even himself, would be allowed to force her to leave or go anywhere as doing so no longer would be required for her safety” Nikolai explained.

Jesper snapped his head to kaz who nodded stiffly.

“I will not force her to do anything” kaz stated.

“But she needs to come home. You want her to -“ Jesper sighed.

“I will not force her to do anything” kaz repeated sharply, “what I want does not matter”.

“So if she doesn’t want to go, then what?” Jesper asked Nikolai.

“Then she’s permitted to continue her stay should that be her desire” the king said.

“Saints your highness, what could Kaz ever have done to make you in his debt so much so that you’d take on this responsibility and even let her stay after the deal was done?” Jesper gasped.

Kaz shifted his jaw, “Nothing. That was not part of the deal”.

The King only nodded silently.

“You’ve grown fond of her” Kaz rasped, his chest sinking .

Nikolai rolled his eyes, “I’m not certain I know what you’re referring to. But I certainly know I’d not have sent her away “.

Jesper stepped between the two men, his hands on his revolvers, not waiting to see Kaz’s reaction.

“Have you told her?” Kaz questioned, surprising both Jesper and Nikolai.

“That I wouldn’t have been willing to let her go? Yes. Per the terms of the agreement , I didn’t tell her the reason you did” He answered.

“Where is she?” Kaz asked, trying to ignore the doubt that returned at Nikolai words.

Kaz had long thought about the unintended outcomes of his decision, but he still rather she be alive and with Nikolai than be harmed or dead for choosing him.

“At this time of day, usually the library. Second floor to the right” Nikolai answered easily.

Kaz felt nauseated that someone knew her routine so well.

Sure it was necessary to keep her safe, as he’d ordered the King to do.

But it still felt wrong that someone other than himself knew her whereabouts and routine so intimately.

Ungracefully turning around due to his bad leg, kaz stepped out into the hall, Jesper right behind him.

“Let them wander as they please” nikolai ordered his guards before closing his office door behind them.

“Really regretting your decision now huh?” Jesper murmured.

Kaz shot him a look before recounting the directions to the library.

Upon seeing her for the first time in months, Kaz found his legs failing to move closer.

Instead, he began staring at her, his hungry eyes absorbing every detail of her he could.

It was as if his mind had already determined she’d choose to stay; choose Nikolai.

Not that he could fault her for such.

Yet it didn’t stop the pain in his chest when the thought would float in.

Still, he let his eyes trace her skin, searching for every detail he knew by heart.

The small scar above her left eyelid just below her eyebrow that she’d gotten as a small child.

The triangle shaped mark on the skin of her right elbow from a slip during a heist.

The freckle on the back of her hand that was barely visible with her current posture.

He wasn’t even sure he was close enough to see any of these details, having stopped a safe distance away.

Yet, he knew they were there and he could see them in his mind.

Whether these details were an image in his mind from a time before this when he’d been close enough to truly see them or him somehow being able to see them from so far away now, it didn’t matter.

She was here, he was in the same room as her, for the first time in months.

He’d worked on his touch version with her over the last 7 years and now he wanted nothing more than to run to her and pull her in for a short but firm hug.

But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t let himself do that.

Him even being here, especially after ignoring his letters, was already a big vulnerable step for him.

So instead, he merely gazed at her, resisting his urge to slip the hair tie from her head off until her long hair cascaded down her neck and onto her back.

He has always found her presence mesmerizing, but her hair for some reason brought him comfort.

It was as if seeing the light from the sun or moon hitting her gorgeous and loosely hung hair reminded him she was safe and relaxed.

Early on, Kaz caught on to her ceaselessly tying her hair up during heists or around the streets of the barrel; the habit making her both look more fierce and less approachable to the disgusting men crowding the already narrow streets and alleys.

Kaz knew it also allowed her to move easier, not needing to brush hair from her face when running or turning sharply.

He’d grown to become appreciative of her hair being up; not that it was hard since he admired everything about her.

He knew the act kept her at least slightly safer regardless of where she was or who was near.

However, it was perhaps for that same reason why he cherished when she’d let her hair down.

It wasn’t often she would do it and a small part of him felt prideful when she’d do it in his presence.

It only grew when Nina joked with Kaz about it, telling him how it signaled she was comfortable around him.

While he’d pushed the idea off initially as mocking from Nina, he soon found the truth in it.

He’d noticed that her other tells of her being tense or otherwise dealing with some emotional distress would line up with her either putting her hair back up or keeping it up.

Whereas when she’d feel reassured or calm, she’d lower it.

The key point though being she had to feel safe to be willing to untie it.

It felt like a confession to Kaz when she began letting her hair down around him more.

He saw both styles as helpful indicators he could use to detect her emotions.

He’d worked tirelessly on improving his emotional intelligence and understanding but there were times he’d still struggle or worry he’d misread her state of being.

This simple display of her hair being up of down provided him with reassurance in what he right she was feeling and helped him feel more connected.

Nonetheless, while he appreciated the overall concept and the safety implications that came with it being up; he couldn’t help but always want it down.

He always wanted her to feel (and be) safe, especially if he was around.

But he knew it was also more simple than that.

The Bastard of the Barrel simply loved her hair being down and the way it shaped her face, only heightening her natural beauty.

Jesper let Kaz simmer for a moment before his excitement took over.

He ran to where she was seated at a dusty table in the middle of the room.

As she hastily looked up from her book, a previously hidden small dagger suddenly appeared at his throat.

Kaz found himself smirking at the action.

“J-Jes?” Y/n choked, eyes wide.

“Hi doll, or should I say princess?” Jesper teased, “mind lowering the blade?”.

Laughing nervously, she dropped her hand to her lap before letting go of the dagger and hugging him.

“I missed you” she whispered, but the echoing emptiness of the library made it louder.

Kaz forcefully bit down on the inner side of his lower lip as he noticed the pain in her voice; the pain he was responsible for.

Jesper quickly pulled her in for a tight hug, only opening his eyes briefly to stare pointedly at Kaz and mouth “Come on”.

Kaz stretched his neck as he tried to figure out how to start a conversation with her.

He was never great at communication, but he’d never found it this difficult.

Normally if he couldn’t think of a reason to justify talking to her, he’d be able to come up with some small request for her to help prepare for the next heist.

But he hadn’t planned a heist in awhile, nor did the way he handled the situation leave that as a viable option anymore.

Jesper pulled back, hands still holding the outside of y/n’s biceps as he smiled at her, “we’ve missed you too doll”

“We?” Y/n asked.

Jesper refrained from looking at Kaz so he wouldn’t give away his presence until the man was ready to face her.

“Yes, me and Kaz” Jesper smiled, squeezing her left arm.

Y/n froze before letting out a scoff and humorless laugh, “mmm right. Well it’s good to see you, Jes.”

Jesper sighed, quickly glancing secretly to Kaz as she rolled her eyes, “It’s good to see you too, it’s boring at the slat without you”.

Kaz saw his chance and began to walk closer, starting at a slow enough pace and pressing his cane down soft enough to not make much sound.

Whatever noise he might’ve been making was covered by Jesper’s conversation.

“The slat? Please, I’m fairly certain I’ve read nearly every book in here” y/n laughed sadly.

Eyes wide, Jesper gasped dramatically, “There’s far too many you liar!”

Y/n laughed with a small smile, “I’m a fast reader and I’ve had months Jes. Besides, what else am I supposed to do?”

“Was it really that boring or did you just miss me that much?” Jesper winked, sitting next to her.

Y/n shoved him softly before laying her head down on his shoulder when his body returned to its original position.

“I did miss you Jes. And the others” She admits, “but let’s just say, the most thrilling thing I’ve done in months has been sneaking behind Nikolai’s guards”

Jesper laughed loudly as Kaz froze in shock and frustration.

She was not supposed to be being restricted but the guards were also supposed to be alert enough if someone tried to attack.

It wasn’t surprising to Kaz that someone as skilled as y/n was could slip by even the kings guards, but he still hoped for her own safety it would not be possible.

He took a few steadying breaths as he stared at her, reminding himself that even if the guards hadn’t been up to his standards, she was alive and safe, the threat now over.

“Only you would do that! Where were you going?” Jesper asked, intrigued.

Shrugging she blushed slightly at how boring her target would sound, “here, sometimes the kitchen, a few times to the gardens until Nikolai looked out his window and caught me. Doesn’t matter where, just had to do something “.

Jesper nods in understanding, “what happened when the King caught you?”

Y/n hummed calmly, “He just joined me, usually issuing some comment about how guards needed more training”.

“Making improvements and keeping things interesting wherever you go I see” Jesper winked, rubbing her arm.

“Mmm, clearly” She grumbled under her breath, but with the emptiness in the room, both guys heard it.

“Hey, cheer up! I’m here to take you back!” Jesper assured her.

Lifting her head off his folder to look at him, she sighed, “Jes, no”.

Kaz who was merely a few feet from her now, froze upon hearing her comment and it felt as if she was thousands of miles away again; out of reach, too far gone.

Pouting, Jesper turned to her more, “Why not?”

Y/n gave him a sympathetic sigh, “I’m not going back. I’m not wanted nor needed”.

Kaz swore he could physically feel the distance between them growing.

“That’s not true! Why would you think that? We’re here after all!” Jesper whined.

“I know you’re here Jes, and I appreciate that. But you’re waisting your time” she sighed.

“But-“ Jesper argued as Kaz mentally tried to push past the metaphorical barriers he’d put between them.

Y/n sniffled once, “you know, you’re the first one to come see me?”.

Jesper frowned, “well, to be fair… they think you’re… dead”.

Y/n’s body halted for a half a second before she laughed sarcastically, “Saints, I should’ve known. I figured that…K-… that it was that or some lie tarnishing my name”

Jesper but his lip, suddenly at a loss for words.

“I suppose that makes me feel better about no one trying to contact me” she said as a thank you to Jesper for his attempt at comforting her.

“But nonetheless, Jesper, I’m staying” y/n added.

“Why? I mean, saints I know it’s a castle, and you’re basically a princess now, b-“ Jesper rambled as Kaz shut his eyes.

“I’m not a princess!” She argued with a glare, “I’m still me, Jesper”.

“Then why won’t you come back?” He asked, frowning.

“I can’t. I’m not here because I chose to be, Jes” she pointed out, Kaz opening his eyes in time to see the shame wash over her features.

“I’m supposedly here because I messed up” she sighed, “but in reality, I’m here because I am no longer wanted as I no longer serve a purpose or need”

Kaz closed the distance between them loudly as his cane aggressively hit the floor as he walked, “that is not true”.

Y/n stiffened momentarily before balling her fists up at her sides and narrowing her eyes at him as she turned to see him, “what the hell are you doing here?”.

Kaz swallowed the resistance building in him, walking around to stand before her ,“I’ve got some things to say to you.”

She chuckled mockingly, “that’s wonderful for you. As far as I am concerned you said enough, months ago”.

“I didn’t say half the things I wanted to.” He admitted, the words barely slipping out of his lips.

She shook her head, “you don’t get to say that. Not when you sent me away. You discarded me, when I no longer mattered to you”.

Kaz returned the head shake, “that is the most ignorant thing you’ve ever said”.

Jesper gasped softly and opened his mouth to try to stop the fight but they didn’t notice.

Rolling her eyes, y/n huffed, “Hello Mr. Casually Cruel. So you came here to drag me down lower than you did that night? Good luck with that Brekker.”

Running a gloved hand through his messy hair, Kaz groaned, “that is not why I am here”.

“Right, you’re here because you didn’t say everything that night. Well, I think you’ve said plenty just now. So feel free to leave now ” she laughed breathlessly.

Kaz sighed, his hand rubbing against his face as he lowered it slowly.

“I understand your mad, but you need to listen-“ Kaz began.

Standing up, and stepping back from the table, she groaned, “you don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore. You gave that up when you broke up with me over one mistake and kicked me out”.

Kaz sighed, a throbbing pain radiating from his temple.

“Wait, what?” Jesper blurted.

Kaz ignored him, eyes still holding onto y/n’s presence, “I never ordered you around as… your…”

Y/n watched him with an eyebrow raised, curious if he’d call himself her (now ex) boyfriend out loud or not.

It was common knowledge, but Kaz was never one to use formal terms for things when it came to relationships or even friendships.

Clearing his throat, he spoke with more certainty this time, “I may have issued orders for heists, but I never ordered you around as your boyfriend. I-“

Y/n nodded twice with a faint hum, “That’s true. You only did so as my ex boyfriend. My mistake “.

Kaz visibly tensed as she called him her ex, but no one mentioned it.

“Y/n, I-“ Kaz tried, his voice harsh as he tried to hide his fear.

“Why are you here?” She asked exasperatedly, leaning her palms on the table between them, “I expect a real answer Kaz. No indirect or vague answers, no lies, no misdirections, nothing of that nature or I’m walking out of this room”.

“I was not lying about my reason for being here. I need you to-…” He took a deep breath, his voice softening faintly until it was at a slightly less harsh tone “I need to talk to you”.

Y/n pondered his comment, Kaz waiting in silence as she analyzed him as if she were his personal lie detector.

And if he was honest, Kaz swore she basically was.

The only night she’d missed his tells was the night he sent her away.

He knew the intensity of the situation, his indirect explanations/excuses, and his refusal to answer questions he knew he’d have to blatantly lie about, all prevented her from seeing clearly that night.

He felt bad about it, knowing she already had trust issues with most people; hence why even when it was got her safety he couldn’t get himself to outright lie.

So he’d pinned it on something else that he was mad about, although minorly in constant to the real reason, and avoided any questions that would make him lie.

Her waving her hand slightly dismissively between them in a silent signal to continue brought Kaz out of his flashback.

“You did not stop serving a purpose nor did you stop being wanted” he told her.

She could tell he was trying but after what he’d put her through, she couldn’t let herself be too easy on him.

“Jesper already mentioned that” y/n stated, “But I was talking ab-“.

“About me “ Kaz interrupted , “about us. Or.. well… past us… no, that’s not… I suppose us still describes it”.

Y/N’s defensiveness decreased slightly out of shock over his uncharacteristic rambling.

He sighed, his hand in his hair again, “I .. I mean, I don’t know what I am to you… anymore…, …. Or well, even what you think of me. But… I do. I.. know what I think of you”.

Crossing her arms loosely over her chest, eyes staring into his frightened ones, she pressed for more clarity “What are you trying to say Brekker?”

Kaz took a hesitant step closer, “I didn’t send you away because of the reasons you think. You never stopped serving a purpose, obviously not to the crows or dregs. But not to me either”.

Sighing, his gaze shamefully fell to his scuffed boots, “I know I’m shit at this. But I’m trying to say… that, you… that you are wanted. By me.”

Despite the fluttering in her chest, y/n squinted hesitantly at him, “You’re the person who told me the reasons you sent me away, Kaz. You told me you ended it and discarded me because I failed your orders. Now I’m wanted? For what? Some heist you somehow believe I won’t be able to mess up?”

Shaking his head vehemently, Kaz took a sure step forward, “I told you my actions were due to safety concerns. I didn’t say-“

“You didn’t say it was because of the heist, you just let me believe that was the case “ She concluded, replaying the exact conversation from that night.

Kaz nodded in approval of her conclusion, “I don’t want you for a heist, I… I want you …For you. I never stopped …wanting you. But, the dime lions-“

Catching on, she cuts him off with a sharp tone, “they’re coming for you. Aren’t they?”

Kaz nods once, “they were, yes. They would have used you to hurt me”.

“That’s why you pushed me away, why you had me taken from my home and forced to live here” She snapped.

Kaz’s defensive nature took over at her remark, “You could sound a bit more grateful, you live in a castle with a King , many people dream of that kind of life”

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes, “against my wishes. And ghenzen! You know I don’t want that kind of life “

Kaz sighs “it is better than what I can offer”

“I didn’t ask anything from you!” She argued.

When he spoke, his voice was so soft and quiet the tone alone shocked everyone in the room., “I didn’t know if I could protect you any longer. “

“I didn’t need you to! I can protect myself, Kaz! I’m not in need of someone else to do that” she defended.

“Even if I believed they were real, your saints would not have been enough “ he declared firmly.

“My saints keep me sane. I don’t rely on them to keep me safe on a daily basis. I’m capable of that on my own, you should know that! You..- you helped make that happen” she pointed out.

Kaz felt the left side of his lips curl a tiny amount out of pride but he still held his ground, “If you stayed, you’d never be safe, not while there was a reward for your capture! I couldn’t have something happen to you. The castle is safer-”

“Shut up Kaz! Saints, we’re going in circles here. You threw away our history like it meant nothing. Why?!”

Staring at his feet he was honest and direct this time, “when you love something, you protect it. No matter how much it hurts”

She faltered as tears formed in her eyes, but the pain of the last few months hadn’t left, “You lied to me and you’ve got it worked out in your head that you did me a favor”

He nodded, jaw tight “you’re still mad. Be mad, Ghezen, be mad for the rest of our lives! But, I’d like you to be mad by my side. I did what I had to do. I won’t apologize for keeping you sa-”

“You can’t just explain it all away with, ‘I did what I had to do.’ Fuck you Brekker. You have no idea what these past few months have been like” she said to shield herself from more pain and heartache.

“No idea?” Kaz scoffed with a glare, “if you’d have opened the letters I-“

“Why!? Why would I put myself through that?” She shouted.

“You did this Kaz. You sent me away and you don’t understand why I wouldn’t want to read what you wrote after that?!” She groans.

The tears in y/N’s eyes made Kaz’s guilt drive him into complete silence as a means to hide his intense emotions.

“You know what the whirlwind of questions in my mind kept going back to?! The same question that was always there in the end?! If I opened your damn letters, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from asking …How’s your heart after breaking mine?” She whimpered.

“And ghezen knows I wouldn’t want to hear that answer; that you were perfectly fine” she stated hoarsely.

She shook her head and turned to leave the room.

“You must really think that I’m stupid.’ He said roughly.

“What?” She questioned, pausing.

“I’d have to be the most idiotic person to be so ignorant as to not know what your absence meant. That I was the reason. You think I was stupid enough to risk …everything for something that was clearly not needed” he argued, following after her.

“That’s what you think, right?” He pressed when she didn’t respond.

“That I am an idiot for doing this, that it is stupid to believe you would have been safer here” he added.

Turning back to him with tears, “you’re not stupid, Kaz. That’s why it hurts. You knew what you were doing. You’re smart enough to know I am able to defend myself, yet you knowingly ignored that and did as you pleased”.

Kaz’s voice trembled only slightly but the waves of emotion in his eyes spoke volumes as he moved closer to her, "everyone I've… Everyone I’ve loved has gotten hurt in Ketterdam. I was not going to let that happen to you”.

Jesper stood silently, wide eyed as he stared at the two, his mind spinning.

Guilt causes her to step closer, eyes flickering downwards and then they rise softer as she looks at him, “why couldn’t you just say that? You owed me that. Months ago, Kaz”

“I warned you communication is not my strong suit y/n” Kaz deflected.

She shook her head as she stared at the ground in disappointment.

“And… Goodbyes are much harder” he added quietly.

Y/n huffed, the pain in her chest burning again “Goodbye would’ve been harder?! On who? Because, you let me believe that…”

She pushes a soft breathy scoff “that I didn’t matter anymore. That you… Saints sake, Kaz. I know you never officially told me you loved me, but ghezen knows I believed you did”.

Kaz parts his lips, taking a shaky step closer with a sorrowful stare, “y/n, I-“

Shakes her head, “if you’re going to try and say it now, or say it indirectly again right now, don’t. Please, just don’t”.

Kaz clenched jaw and nodded stiffly.

Seeing the hurt and confusion simmering in his eyes, she sighed, “y-…y-you watched me go. You don’t get to just come back here and take that all back and act like nothing happened”.

Kaz hung his head slightly, “just tell me one thing, I have to know”.

She nodded slowly and waited for his question.

“While… while you were here, were you safe? Because it matters to me that you’re not hurt.” He states.

She sighed in frustration but Kaz curtly interrupted, “I don’t ask as a way to assert my point behind my actions. Only because Nikolai and I may have different perspectives on such”.

Between the sincerity in his voice and the way his eyes analyzed every inch of her, she knew he wasn’t lying; he was still worried that despite her presence before him, she was somehow threatened or harmed by the rival gang.

Frowning with a soft sigh, she mumbles, “no, I’m fine”.

Kaz grinds his teeth and tightens his grip on his cane, “you’re lying to me”.

“Kaz-“ Jesper whispers in warning.

Pursing her lips and shaking her head as she lifts her gaze to stare back at Kaz, she rebuts, “you really don’t see the irony and hypocrisy here”.

“Yes, I’m lying. Because you’re right about you and Nikolai having different opinions on what that question entails. You and I also have different opinions on it. All you care about is whether or not anyone physically harmed me” she states harshly.

“Which is a no. So congrats, Kaz, you and Nikolai did a fantastic job of that!” She sarcastically compliments.

“But as far as if I’m hurt? Or was hurt?” She laughs breathily, “yes. Not physically, but by you. While you may not let yourself feel anything, other people do Kaz. The pain you caused, not even King Nikolai could have prevented”.

Kaz swallowed thickly, “I did not want you to be hurt y/n, you must know that”.

“You didn’t want me to be hurt? Really? See this is my point!” She huffed, “if you actually did not expect this to hurt, then you didn’t care about me… about us… at all”.

His eyes closed and voice strained, he shook his head slowly, “that is not the case”.

Sniffling before composing herself, she straightens her back as she looked him over, “I’m just supposed to trust that?”

He shook his head again, eyes slowly opening to see her, “that’s why I wrote… “

It was now y/N’s turn to close her eyes to keep from crying, “I… I told you why I couldn’t open them”.

“I know” he admits, “I don’t blame you. But regardless of if you choose to come back, I have to know…When you were gone, did you ever think of me?”

Biting hard on her bottom lip she nods firmly, “you know I did. I couldn’t stop. That’s the problem “

Nodding he purses his lips, “now you understand my situation “.

She sighs loudly, looking between him and Jesper with her pain displayed clearly on her facial features.

“You two can figure this out” Jesper encouraged, “this is far more talking than I expected already”.

When neither one laughs at his attempt to break the tension he sighs.

“Y/n, will you come back?” Jesper asks hesitantly.

Kaz flinches as he watches her bottom lip tremble and chest dip inwards towards herself, shoulders curling forward as her eyes stare blankly into the void between them.

He knows he should be the one to ask her to return, to beg her, plead with her, and promise to make up for his mistakes.

But he can’t.

Part of it is his ego; he knows that.

But if he’s being unusually honest with himself, he knows he’s terrified of her answer.

And for her to say no to Jesper is one thing, to Kaz himself, he’s not certain he’d handle it well.

Y/n takes a shaky breath and stares over at Kaz, her eyes scanning his for some sign of the right choice.

Kaz reluctantly meets her gaze, his uncertainty clear in his eyes.

“I… I need some time, need some space, to think about all of this” she stated with forced elegance.

Ignoring the fact that her tone was likely a lesson from Nikolai, Kaz nodded, “I understand. The offer does not expire”.

“What offer, Kaz?” She asked as he neared the exit, needing to hear him say it.

Turning around to face her, he gave her a small curl of his lips, understanding why she pushed it despite Jesper having just asked her to return.

“I am offering for you to return to the sl- return home” he began, steeling himself confidently once he saw the surprised but pleased stare she responded with.

“With no strings attached. You may once again do as you please… with whom, you please. Wherever you please… the offer is that should you chose to return with us, now, or when you’re ready, you will find a place to stay” he told her.

She listened carefully to each word, her eyes frozen on his face.

“A place you were always wanted” Kaz mumbled softly, uncomfortable with the declaration albeit true.

She gives him a weak smile “thank you”.

He nods slowly, his eyes catching the troubled look in hers, “you mustn’t decide now. Take your time to think this over”.

“Saints know Kaz did” Jesper joked, causing Kaz to glare over at him as y/n choked bac a laugh.

Still, the faint laugh made Kaz’s glare disappear as he turned back to her and gave her a small nod.

“Kaz?” She asked as he opened the library door.

He turned to her patiently awaiting her question.

“May I ask one more question?” She whispered shyly.

Kaz frowned at her even asking permission but nodded, “you know you can”.

Biting her lip, she looked into his dark but patient eyes, “why didn’t you force Nikolai to have me read the letters?”.

Resting his hand loosely on the doorknob, he sighed, “It was not my right to do so. I already violated your free will by forcing you to go with him, I was not going to be cruel enough to do it again”.

“Yet, you still wrote?” She whispered.

He nodded once, “I needed you to know that I… well…”

Y/n nodded, “I understand”.

Kaz gave her a thankful small smile for not making him scramble for a way to describe his feelings especially in front of Jesper.

“Thank you… for…, not requiring Nik to make me read them when I wasn’t ready” she smiled faintly.

Jesper smirked silently as he watched his best friends.

Kaz furrowed his eyebrows slightly and nodded, “you do not need to thank me for that. Besides, even if I was selfish enough to insist, I have a feeling that… Nik… would have refused”.

Raising her eyebrows y/n stared at him in honest confusion.

Kaz chuckled once softly at her expression, “he’s interested in you y/n”.

Squinting, she pokes her tongue against her cheek, “I thought you said he got nothing in return for complying with you sending me here, that you w-“

Kaz shook his head rapidly, “stop. Nothing like that. I didn’t, I wouldn’t, ever do that. He accepted out of necessity to fulfill a favor he owed me, I’m certain you’ve put together by now how I obtained the ability to ask such a favor?”

Y/n nodded, having learned of the Nikolai and Sturmhond connection by now.

Kaz smirked, “mmm, figured you would”

Staring intently into her eyes, he added “He merely accepted to repay the debt. I, in no way, implied any further benefit to him accepting. I did not require anything more from him than your protection.”

Despite it being clear y/n trusted him, Kaz continued, “I assure you that if I feared, for even a second, his intentions weren’t appropriate or he’d cause you any discomfort; I would not have sent you on the ship that night”.

She nodded slowly as she took in his words.

“Nonetheless, it seems… his emotions maybe have… changed in this whole ordeal” he clarified.

Y/N’s lips parted as she silently processed this information.

“I will not ask you to choose. As I stated earlier, should you decide to return, you of course may do so in whatever manner you chose, with or without whoever you’d like” Kaz stated.

She was clearly deep in thought; both over Kaz’s numerous declarations and arguments, as well as the Nikolai revelation.

Once she gave him a polite smile as a small nod, Kaz made a gesture to Jesper.

Jesper caught on, squeezing y/n’s arm sympathetically as he exited the room.

Taking a painfully deep breath, Kaz gave her one final look before stepping into the hall.

He was not sure how long it would take her to process their conversation, let alone decide how to proceed with both aspects.

Nor did he know what that would entail.

But, he’d stick to his word.

Bastard of the Barrel, Kaz Brekker, would cave to whatever she chose; even if it wasn’t Ketterdam, and/or wasn’t him.

He’d find a way to do his part and accept her decision.

Kaz now owed it to y/n to make sure she wasn’t just safe, but happy; even if it meant he wasn’t.

Part 2 Here

Lying Bastard Mini-Series Navigation Here

Kaz Brekker Navigation/Masterlist

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Current tag list (comment here to added): @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkershadowsinger

[omoriboii]

I'm already really looking forward to reading future chapters, but from a game dev standpoint I am DEVOTED to learning more about this setting, because it has some lovely ✨implications✨

For the developers running and maintaining the game, are they well known among the public, or is it only the most dedicated of the players say with confidence who's behind their most loathed update? Is their QA dep just one dude with a tub of popcorn watching the flood of bug reports coming in knowing he aint paid enough for this shit? Are there rouge devs who figured out how to clone players into custom NPCs a while back and kept it a secret so the party won't end? Gosh I love thinking about Dreamscape and I'm very hype to see the new chapter (even if you never go into detail about the company that runs the in-setting game, it's all good to me)

OOOOH A NORMAL ANON IM DANCING! IM DANCING!

I never thought anyone would be interested enough to know about the dev team this early on!!

So here’s the info I can give that’s uh..spoiler free.

DreamScape was conceived alongside the VHS console, and both were made by the same group of people. Think- Wii Sports and the Nintendo Wii. While the internet ‘was’ fairly active during that time period, being able to interact with game devs was still fairly unknown. Most people didn’t really know about the devs, other than a select few dedicated players who were around enough to see one of them occasionally pop in. Because of the state of the machinery, and the way the cartridge and later updates work, players eventually learned how to mod the game, creating the healthy population of sellers who ‘sell’ their assets so regular players to use, forming the online economy. All of this, however, has been completely under the Devs’ noses, but it doesn’t seem like they care. The game, despite limitations, seems fairly open source. The Devs only prioritize with making special seasonal events, and slowly adding onto the map of DreamScape. Some say that one of the devs watch the players ominously from above, but that’s only speculated.

People who make some of the most ‘game breaking’ mods usually have met one of the mods at some point, or know somebody else who did. Usually those people end up leaking future updates as well, though considering the uniqueness of the game, it doesn’t deter anyone.

[just-antithings]

Interesting explanation mod gatito, I was wondering if you could help me understand mspec lesbians? Since I've heard strange things like the term was made by someone bad or something?

In all honesty? I can't possibly explain all the nuances to you because while my gender may be ambiguous and nonbinary, the one thing I am not is a woman. Never have been never will be the closest on the scale I get to female is nonbinary and no further. I ended up answering the other ask because I do understand the split attraction model I am a greyro/Bisexual. I did however find a great link for you with lots of sources and I believe some first person accounts.

Here is the link

It has multiple sections and is very well put together in my opinion, I read through it prior to recommending it and I would also highly recommend looking for some tumblr blogs dedicated to it.

I actually really appreciate getting this ask, don't get me wrong, I love talking to you guys and learning new things together with you. As well as teaching where I can.

Please don't let this deter you, you can send asks for me here or at my other blog at anytime and I will do my best to give you a well thought out and thorough response and if I can't I'll try and find places that do. 🧡

[kanerallels]

Holding Hands With Your Heart

For Kanera Week day four: "On a mission." Set in a canon compliant universe, pre-SWR. Dedicated to @accidental-spice, who gave me the idea for this story!!

Rating/Warnings: T (canon typical injury, some description of blood, and someone kinda gets a knife thrown at them but don't worry they're fine)

Taglist: @accidental-spice @laughingphoenixleader @heckin-music-dork @auroramagpie @opalknight @firefoxtessa @day-to-day-thots @kaneraweek

Read on AO3!!

Hera wasn’t much a fan of undercover missions. She understood the need for them, of course. Sometimes meeting a contact in public was too dangerous, for either of them, without changing their looks. Especially this time— their contact had just escaped an Imperial prison near Bakura, and was hiding out while the authorities looked for him. Hera just hoped the information he was promising was accurate.

But more often than not she ended up wearing a dress, and worse yet, heels. Neither of which were very practical for potential escapes or shootouts.

None of this seemed to deter her altogether too enthusiastic companion.

“Looks like that’s our stop,” Kanan observed from the passenger seat of the speeder. Shooting her a grin, he said, “Ready to be married to me for the next twenty minutes?”

Rolling her eyes, Hera dead-panned, “I can hardly wait. Try not to go too over the top, dear.”

“Who, me?” Kanan gave her a look of mock injury as they pulled into a vacant lot, at the back of a large brick building. “I would never.”

“Uh-huh,” Hera said, still not totally convinced. Kanan had joined her crew almost two years ago now, and while the more serious flirting had stopped, he still liked teasing her. And while Hera wouldn’t admit it to his face, she liked matching wits with him.

Now, however, she was not in the mood for it. Switching off the speeder, she glanced at Kanan. “Okay, we’re looking for a human with reddish hair, pale skin, and a scar on his forehead. If he sees us first, he’ll head to the bar to order something, and I’ll make contact. Otherwise, I approach him first, but until then, we just mingle and hope for the best.”

“Sounds good,” Kanan said, hopping out of the speeder. As Hera got to her feet, he hurried around to her side and offered her a hand. “Shall we?”

“I feel like I should protest,” Hera said, “but honestly I’m not totally sure I’m not going to break my neck in these heels. And while that might get me out of this, it’s really not worth it.”

Kanan chuckled as he helped her out of the speeder. “You’re really not looking forward to this, are you?”

“Looking forward to being ogled for the rest of the night by drunk idiots? No, I am not,” Hera said, and Kanan grimaced.

“I can’t argue with that. Tell you what— if it gets too bad, wink at me twice and I’ll punch someone out or shoot them or something.”

Hera snorted with amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind. But that’s another thing— I can’t carry a blaster. I don’t like being unarmed.”

“Are you telling me you don’t have that knife I saw you use last week on you somewhere?” Kanan asked, lifting a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Because I find that hard to believe.”

Hera couldn’t hold back a wry smile at that. “You’ve got a point there, dear. Still, I prefer an outfit that goes better with a blaster than this.”

She wouldn’t exactly say she disliked the dress in question— it was far more tasteful than some of the others she’d found when they’d gone shopping. The simple sleeveless design appealed to her, as did the skirt that hit just below her knees, for both modesty and mobility’s sake. The color scheme was black and white, with the lower half of the skirt a filmy black, studded with sparkling beads, and the upper half a solid white. A swirling pattern, like waves or vines, swirled across the left half of the dress.

It was beautiful. But it was also eye-catching and showed more skin that she liked, strictly speaking, and there wasn’t anywhere practical to hide a blaster. So Hera had to make do with a knife and the hope that there weren’t too many people who’d be staring at her in there.

Thankfully, Kanan’s suit coat covered his blaster perfectly, so they weren’t totally unarmed. His outfit still bordered on casual— a suit jacket over a crisp white shirt, black slacks, and black shoes— but it was still strange to see him in formal wear. Which, Hera was loath to admit, he looked really good in.

If she told him that, he would be insufferable, so she wasn’t saying anything.

“I get it,” Kanan told her, bringing her mind back to the present. “It’s tough to be somewhere without anything to protect yourself— and I know it’s different, but I don’t love people staring at me, either. But we’ll get through this fast, maybe have a few drinks and something to eat, and save the day. Deal?”

“Deal,” Hera relented, looping her arm through his. “Let’s go.”

The night club they were infiltrating, Club Paraxo D’Prata, was invitation only. Despite several bribes, one instance of Kanan getting a Rodian very drunk, and a visit with a forger, they hadn’t been able to get any. So they went with an old standby, which Kanan liked to call “fake it til you make it.”

They headed up to the front, Kanan’s arm around Hera’s waist, the two of them laughing as they half-walked, half-stumbled their way up to the door, where two bouncers were waiting for them.

“Hi, there,” Kanan said, offering the duo— a bored looking human man and a muscular Devaronian, both well armed— a charming grin. “Sorry to bother you, but my companion and I are meeting some other friends inside. Any chance you can let us in?”

“Invitations?” the human droned, looking if possible, more bored.

Giving him a rueful grimace, Kanan said, “About that. I stepped inside earlier for a drink, and left my invitations inside, in my other jacket. If you’d just let me step into the entryway—”

“No entry without an invitation,” the human said, his boredom beginning to give way to irritation. 

“We are so sorry,” Hera said quickly, making sure her voice held her natural Ryl accent. She gave the pair a smile. “We did mean to keep them with us, but we forgot. And Kerron did promise to buy me a drink here, didn’t you, love?” Lacing her fingers around his, she gave him an affectionate smile that was less forced than she’d expected it to be.

She felt him stiffen slightly, but his smile didn’t falter. “Surely you can understand, gentlemen,” he said. “I owe the lady a debt.”

The man started to respond, but the Devaronian spoke first, his tone gravelly. “I didn’t see you two come in earlier.”

“Oh,” Kanan said, glancing at Hera. “Um…”

“Plan B,” she muttered under her breath.

“Got it.” Turning to the bouncers, Kanan waved a hand, and Hera could swear she felt something thrum in the air. “You want to let us inside.”

The man’s eyes glazed over, his face going blank. “I… want to let you inside,” he said, the Devaronian echoing him seconds later.

“If you say so, sir,” Kanan said cheerfully. “Come on, Layda.”

Together, he and Hera slipped past the guards and made their way into the club together.

The inside of the club was dimly lit in blue, the walls made of rough bricks. Tables lined the corners of the room, with a bar on the right side and a stage in the very center, where a band was performing. Beings were clustered throughout the room, dancing or talking or sitting at the bar.

Not one of them seemed to take any notice of Kanan and Hera as they slipped inside. “Thanks for the save,” Hera murmured to him.

“Not a problem,” Kanan responded quietly, leading the way to the bar. They both took seats at the less populated end, Hera instinctively scanning for threats as they did so.

“Looks like we’ve got a group carrying blasters,” she said, nodding at a pack of black clad beings, standing around a Togruta wearing a white suit and more jewelry than Hera had ever seen on a person. Even his lekku had gold rings around them. “Some kind of crime lord, maybe?”

“Either way, we don’t want to tangle with him,” Kanan replied wryly, waving to the bartender. As the Rodian headed their way, he added, “Off duty Imperials, over by the stage. Next to that fake plant.”

Hera followed his discreet gesture to where two men were chatting up a duo of Twi’leks. “Military haircuts, and they stand like they’re Imperial,” Kanan said as the bartender arrived. Turning towards him, he said, “I’ll have a glass of Corellian whiskey.”

“And for the lady?” the Rodian asked, turning to her.

“If you could mix me a mocktail with something meiloorun, that would be lovely,” Hera said, offering him a smile.

“Right away, ma’am. Sir.” 

As he retreated, Kanan asked, “So what’s the deal with our latest contact?”

“His name’s Atticus Nardeth. Apparently, he was an Imperial— Clone Wars veteran who just didn’t complain when the regime switched,” Hera explained, flicking her gaze across the crowd. “But then, he was sent to fight in the siege of Lasan.”

Understanding flashed through Kanan’s eyes. “I bet that changed his mind pretty quickly.”

“It did,” Hera said, pausing as the Rodian arrived with a tumbler for Kanan and a tall glass full of golden-orange liquid, a straw in it and a slice of meiloorun on the edge. Accepting hers with a smile, Hera waited until he was gone, then continued, “According to my source, the minute he realized what was happening, he put his rifle down and refused to go any farther. He was arrested, and spent the next years in prison.”

“Until now,” Kanan said.

Nodding, Hera sipped from her drink, enjoying the smooth, tangy-sweet taste. “He broke out two months ago, and he’s been on the run ever since. He claims to have some sort of information that the Empire would want, and so Fulcrum wants me to find out what he knows.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Kanan glanced around the room. “Any idea if he’s here yet?”

“The owner is a friend of his, so he probably is,” Hera said. “We just have to wait for him to show himself. I gave him a meeting time, so we just have to find him in the next hour.”

Snagging his cup, Kanan took a quick drink. “Then we’ve got some work to do. Mingling first or dancing?”

Hera sighed. “We’d better dance first. Then if I break my ankle, I can sit while I mingle.”

Kanan chuckled as he left a few credits on the counter, hopped out of his seat, and offered her a hand. “Don’t worry, Captain Hera. I’ve got your back.”

“You’d better,” Hera said, only half-joking as she placed her hand in his. 

Together they headed out onto the dance floor as the band started playing an upbeat, fast-paced tune. Hera stumbled a few times at first, but quickly caught on to the rhythm of the dance. It helped that she had a good partner— Kanan was a better dancer than she’d expected, moving skillfully and covering for her mistakes with grace. “You never fail to surprise me, dear,” she told Kanan. “Someday, you’re going to have to tell me where you pick up these skills.”

Shooting her a grin, he said, “Now, where’s the fun in that? Want to try a spin?”

“Fine,” Hera said, unable to hold back a responding smile at his infectious delight. “But be prepared to catch me if I trip.”

“Always,” Kanan assured her. Lifting her arm, he spun her out. As Hera whirled around, she caught sight of a man sitting at a table set back in the shadows, watching them with a furrowed brow. Deliberately, he rose to his feet and started across the room towards the bar, and Hera caught sight of a dark scar curving across his temple, disappearing into his red hair.

He moved out of sight behind a crowd of Gotals, and Kanan pulled Hera back in. “Nice,” he complimented. “You didn’t even trip. I think you’re improving.”

“Undoubtedly,” Hera quipped wryly. Leaning closer, she lowered her voice. “I spotted our contact. He’s making his way to the bar.”

She felt Kanan’s muscles tighten slightly under her hands, and his chin brushed her forehead when he nodded. “Got it. Bad news— more Imperials just showed up, and they’re not out of uniform.”

Flicking a quick glance over her shoulder towards the door, Hera spotted one gray clad-figure making its way forward, followed by four in white. “That could be a problem,” she muttered. “We need a distraction.”

“I can handle that,” Kanan replied, and Hera arched an eyebrow at him.

“We need a distraction that doesn’t involve starting a bar fight. If we can get through this without the Empire spotting us or our contact, that would be ideal.”

“I can do subtle,” Kanan said. “Well, as subtle as distractions get. Don’t worry, it won’t cause a riot. Trust me on this one.”

Hera hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll head for the bar and get our friend. If anything goes sideways, we meet back at the speeder. Deal?”

“Deal,” Kanan said as the song they’d been dancing to came to an end. He started to pull away, his hand brushing her forearm, then paused, catching her eye. “Good luck.”

With that, he slipped away into the crowd, and Hera followed suit, making her way to the bar. She didn’t look after Kanan— although there was a part of her that wanted to, a part of her that wished she could follow him and feel his hand around hers again as they danced. 

Don’t be ridiculous, Hera, she scolded herself. Whatever had been in that meiloorun drink was clearly going straight to her head.

Weaving her way through the crowd of dancing beings, she finally found herself at the bar. The red-haired man was sitting at the far end, a drink sitting untouched in front of him as he periodically glanced around the room.

Hera started to move towards him, then froze as a familiar deep voice rolled out from the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption.”

Spinning around, Hera gaped at the sight of Kanan on stage, holding a microphone. Looking completely confident and at ease, he continued, “I’d like to take this time to dedicate this song to someone very special out there, who happens to look stunning tonight.”

And to Hera’s absolute shock, he began to sing as the band played a upbeat, jazzy tune—

“We went down to the water,

So help me, father,

I believe I fell in love.

Since the day we met, 

Where you’re all I’m dreaming of.

His voice was better than Hera would have expected— deep and rich, and the skill of the band made up for any mistakes he made. And, more importantly, his theatrics had totally drawn the attention of everyone in the room, Imperials included. Thank the Force for that, Hera thought, and headed over to the far end of the bar.

As she took the seat next to him, the red-haired man looked up, a frown knitting his face. “Atticus Nardeth?” Hera asked quietly.

He nodded, relief filling his eyes. “And you’re Captain Syndulla. Fulcrum made sure I knew what you looked like. I can’t begin to thank you for taking this risk.”

“It’s what I do, Mr. Nardeth,” Hera said. “And you’re the one taking the risk. You said you have information that the Empire doesn’t want out?”

Nardeth nodded, glancing around. “It’s about Lasan, about the massacre. You’ve heard plenty about that, I imagine.”

“I have,” Hera said, feeling a twinge of sorrow. “I heard about the ion disruptors, that after they were brought in… there were no survivors.”

“But that’s just it,” Nardeth said, his voice a harsh whisper. “There are survivors.”

Hera felt a bolt of shock run through her, and she stared at him. “What?”

“Well, at least one survivor,” the man amended. “I don’t know how, but he managed to get off the planet just as the disruptors were being used. I’ve been looking into him, and I may have a potential location.”

Hera sat, unmoving, her mind whirring as Kanan launched into the chorus of the song he was singing. A Lasat survivor, out there somewhere. There was no question of what she was to do next. “Where?” she asked.

Before Nardeth could respond, a formal, accented voice from behind them spoke. “Excuse me, sir. You need to come with us.”

Turning, Hera’s stomach lurched when she saw the Imperial officer standing there, flanked by stormtroopers. Rising from her seat, she offered him a look of confusion. “Is there a problem, officer?’ she asked, stealthily slipping her knife out from the sheath under her dress.

“Not at all, ma’am,” the Imperial said with more politeness than Hera had expected. “We simply need to speak to your companion.”

Hera shot a glance at Nardeth, and saw the fear and resignation in his eyes. “I don’t think so,” she said, starting to lunge towards the officer— and froze at the sound of four blasters humming to life. 

“Don’t move,” one of the troopers barked.

“I’m going to have to ask you to drop the weapon,” the officer said, his hand drifting towards the blaster he wore at his side. 

Kriff, Hera thought, scrambling for a way out. She shot a glance in Kanan’s direction— but he’d just finished the song, and was looking the other way, distracted.

Misreading her look, the Imperial said, “I wouldn’t try running for it.”

“Fine,” Hera said, letting out a sigh, and lifting her hands as if in surrender. And then she did the only thing she could possibly think of— she threw the knife at Kanan.

For a moment, she thought it wouldn’t work, as she and the very confused Imperials watched it whistle through the air, heading straight for Kanan. And then, in the middle of a conversation with one of the band members, Kanan’s hand snapped up, and he caught the knife inches from his face. Turning, he gave Hera a look that very clearly said, “What the kriff?” And then the confusion melted away as he saw the men surrounding her, and he gave her a tiny nod.

The Imperial officer stared at Kanan for a minute, then turned towards Hera. “I didn’t think he was that bad of a singer.”

“It’s complicated,” Hera said, letting out a sigh as the band started up again— and then blaster fire sounded as Kanan leapt off the stage, shooting one of the stormtroopers in the back.

The Imperials spun around, going for their weapons. Hera grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be Nardeth’s drink, and smashed it over the officer’s head. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as Kanan charged towards them, blaster firing repeatedly. 

The other troopers hit the ground within seconds, and pandemonium broke loose as the patrons of the club screamed and ran for the exits. Turning to Hera, Kanan held up her knife. “You threw a knife at my face,” he said, sounding wounded.

Plucking it from his hand, Hera replied, “I knew you would catch it.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t throw a deadly weapon at my face,” Kanan protested.

“Well, I tried giving you two winks but you were distracted,” Hera said, rolling her eyes.

Kanan opened his mouth to protest, stared at her for a long moment, then closed his mouth. “Right. Let’s figure out a way out of here before more Imperials show up.”

“Good plan,” Hera agreed. “The exits are too crowded. Nardeth, is there a way out that leads to the back lot?”

“There’s a window upstairs,” the man said.

“Show us,” Kanan commanded, grabbing a blaster from one of the dead troopers and tossing it to Hera. Nardeth immediately moved forward through the crowd, and Kanan and Hera followed on his heels.

They’d made it halfway up the staircase in the back of the room when they heard voices shouting orders from downstairs. “Looks like the Empire finally showed up,” Kanan said.

“Then we’d better make this quick,” Hera said. “Nardeth?” 

“This way,” he said, leading them into a parlor with ornate furniture and a  fairly large window. Hera moved up to it, peering through the dirty glass. Sure enough, it looked out on the vacant lot, their speeder visible at the far end. 

“Does this window open?” she asked, and Nardeth shook his head. “Alright— stand back.” 

They all backed up, and Hera fired a blaster bolt into the center of the window, shattering the glass. There were urgent shouts from below, and Kanan moved to the door, shutting it and shoving a char in front of it as Hera cleared the last shards of glass from the window.

“It’s quite a drop, but we should be able to handle it,” she said. “Kanan, you go first.”

“You’re the pilot,” Kanan pointed out. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to go first?”

Giving him a “don’t you dare argue right now” look, Hera said, “I want someone down there to make sure we don’t bump into any Imperials. Now, please. Nardeth, you go after him. I’ll watch our backs.”

Kanan grumbled something under his breath, but hopped up onto the window sill and vaulted out. Nardeth followed seconds later, and Hera was about to follow when she heard someone banging on the door.

“Open up in the name of the Empire!”

“Oh, great,” Hera muttered. Scrambling onto the sill, she raised her blaster as the door flew open— but was stopped by the chair Kanan had shoved in the way. Still, the crack was large enough for blaster fire to come zipping into the room. Hera returned fire quickly, edging towards the opening. She could hear Kanan shouting her name from below, but steadfastly ignored it. Just another minute, and I can make it out. Just one more—

A stray blaster bolt slashed across her arm, and Hera let out a gasp of pain, jerking backwards instinctively. Her foot slipped, and suddenly she was plummeting over the edge of the windowsill.

She braced herself for a painful landing— but slammed into something decidedly less unyielding than the permacrete ground. “Gotcha,” Kanan grunted, staggering a little and Hera clung to him instinctively as he caught his balance. “You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Hera replied breathlessly— which was from the fall, of course. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was so close to his face that she could see the variations of color in his blue green eyes. She could feel him breathing, his arm secure and warm around her waist.

Seeming to realize he was still holding her, Kanan hastily set her down. “Right,” he said, lifting an eyebrow as he nodded at her arm. “Because that’s okay.”

“That’s going to have to wait until later,” Hera said as more crashes sounded from above them. “Let’s go!”

They raced over to the speeder, and Hera had it up and running in seconds. With both Kanan and Nardeth on board, she shot out of the vacant lot, cruising down the street and away from the club as fast as possible.

They ditched the speeder a few blocks from the spaceport, then hurried down the streets, avoiding people as much as possible, Hera wearing Kanan’s jacket to disguise the wound on her arm. Somehow, they made it to the spaceport and reached the Ghost without being caught.

Just being on board her ship made Hera feel better. Bolting into the cockpit, she began the startup sequence, ignoring the throbbing from her arm that grew with every second.

“Whoa— what happened? Is this your idiot’s fault?” Chopper beeped indignantly.

“It’s the Empire’s fault, Chop,” Hera said. “As always. Now let’s get moving, I don’t want to tangle with any TIEs on the way out of here.”

“Eh, a little murder always spices up the evening,” Chopper disagreed, but he rolled forward to help her anyways. Within seconds, the Ghost’s engines had rumbled to life and they were lifting off.

There was no sign of pursuit, but Hera still refused to relax until they’d broken through the atmosphere and the stars blurred into hyperspace around them. Only then did she sit back in her chair, taking a deep breath. She felt herself shaking from the aftermath as the adrenaline drained away.

“Hera.” Kanan’s voice jolted her upright, and she realized with alarm that she’d been drifting off. He was kneeling next to her, his brows knitted together in concern. “We need to get that arm looked at.”

“It’s just a scratch— I can take care of it myself,” Hera said. “Where’s the first aid kit?”

Kanan responded by holding it up, and Hera reached for it. “No,” he said firmly. “You’re the boss, and you know I respect that. But I’m not gonna sit by and watch as you stitch yourself up. Let me help. That’s why I’m here.”

Hera nearly started arguing— but he was right. And she was honestly too tired to fight him on this right now. “Okay,” she said, reluctantly sitting up. “Let’s get this over with.”

Carefully, Kanan helped her pull off the suit coat. The blaster burn had started bleeding, and a dark stain marred the inside of the sleeve, blood sticking it to Hera’s skin. She winced as it pulled painfully against her skin. “Sorry,” Kanan murmured as he tugged the sleeve away.

“I’m sorry,” Hera said, shrugging off the coat and biting her lip hard against the pain. The burn was small enough that it wasn’t a big problem, but it definitely stung. “I bled all over your jacket.”

Kanan gave her a look that she couldn’t quite decipher. “I don’t really care about the jacket.” Flipping open the first aid kit, he started digging through the contents, and Hera took the opportunity to grimace, pressing her eyes shut. Stars, this hurts.

When she opened her eyes, Kanan was watching her again, his frown even deeper. “What’s wrong?” Hera asked. “If you’re mad at me about staying behind longer—”

“Force, no. You’re the boss, remember? I do what you say, and try not to worry too much.” Kanan was quiet for a long moment as he pulled out bacta spray and gauze, and Hera pretended her mind wasn’t fixating on the implication that Kanan worried about her.

Finally, he spoke. “You’re allowed to hurt. You know that, right?”

Hera frowned at him. “What?”

Kanan exhaled hard, rubbing his forehead with a frown. “You’re allowed to hurt. You always just… bottle it up. Keep a strong face so no one sees that it’s affected you— and don’t get me wrong, I admire how strong you are.” Soaking some of the gauze in bacta spray, he began to gently dab at the wound, cleaning away the blood. “But you don’t always have to be the strong one. Sometimes, it’s okay to let things out.”

As he kept working, Hera stared at him, feeling surprise cutting through her. She’d never really thought about what he was saying. For her, for years, it had just… been this way. Just her and Chopper, with no one to really take care of her. So she’d had to grit her teeth, to stitch herself up and not let herself fully feel the pain until she collapsed into her bunk.

But now, things were different. Now she had a crew. Or to be more precise, she had Kanan. Kanan, who was carefully wiping the last of the blood away from her wound, and wrapping it in gauze, his hands gentle. 

It was the last thing she would have expected from the gunslinger she’d met on Gorse. But then, Kanan was always surprising her these days. 

“You’re right,” she said quietly, and Kanan glanced up at her, surprise flashing through his eyes. “I’m not used to having someone else take care of me. It’s still new, and I don’t want to be a burden—”

“You could never be a burden, Hera,” Kanan said, his voice firm. “You’re the reason we got this far, you’re the one who’s holding this crew together. You’re allowed to let someone take care of you every now and then.”

The look in his eyes was determined, but there was also a warmth in his eyes, one that sent a shiver through Hera. “And… and you’re the one who’s going to be taking care of me, then?” she asked.

Tucking in the last edges of the bandages, Kanan offered her a half-smile. “That’s why I’m here, Captain Hera.”

His words were cavalier, but the care with which he finished bandaging her arm, and the way his hands lingered, just for a second, fingertips brushing her skin— that told a different story. Packing away everything in the first aid kit, he rose to his feet, glancing at her. “You looked nice tonight, by the way. But you always do.”

“Oh,” Hera managed, caught off guard. But something about the compliment. It had been a long time since he’d said something like that— but there was something about this time that made it feel real, and brought a smile to her face. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re a better singer than I would have thought.”

Kanan smiled back, and for a moment it was just the two of them, watching each other and wondering what would happen next, if one would make the first move or if this would be another missed opportunity.

And then the cockpit door hissed open. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Captain,” Nardeth said tentatively, and both Kanan and Hera turned towards him.

“Not at all,” Hera said, rising from her chair. “When I spoke to Fulcrum earlier, they said that they had a place for you to hide— we’re heading to the rendezvous point now.”

“Thank you,” Nardeth said. “I appreciate that— but I’m here about the Lasat survivor right now.”

“Wait,” Kanan said, and Hera glanced over to see his eyes widening. “There’s a Lasat survivor? That’s why we’re here?”

“I was as surprised as you were,” Hera said quietly. Looking back at Nardeth, she said, “Of course. Do you have a location?”

“He’s been moving around a lot,” the man said, “but his last known location was Kijimi.”

Hera turned to look at Kanan, and found him already looking at her, eyes expectant. “I guess we’re going to Kijimi, then,” she said. “As long as you’re in, dear.”

“I’m with you all the way,” Kanan promised. And not for the first time, Hera wondered if there was something else behind that promise, something that had been there when they first met and was steadily growing stronger.

It wasn’t the first time she’d wondered about this. But it might have been the first time she found herself hoping for it.

This wasn’t something she had time to worry about now, though. Right now, she had another mission to run, and a Lasat to find. But she had Kanan by her side— and together, the two of them could handle anything.

[fluffypeachwriting]

Hello! I love your writing style so much! May I ask for a scenario of Jiro dragging his s/o somewhere private to kiss them and whisper his love to them? He has to get to class before he's late but he doesn't wanna let go of his s/o either. Thank you, have a nice day! ^^

cute cute cute  ♡(｡- ω -) thank you too! 

Your day was just a long drag of whiny teachers, boring assignments, and not enough Jiro. Staring at the back of his head wouldn’t do, and you didn’t care that your classmates could see how hard you were pining for each other because there was nothing they could do about it. Jiro wasn’t subtle about missing you either; for the entire morning he kept trying to look back at you and pass notes without getting caught.

Failing, of course.

Though by now the teachers didn’t have the energy to constantly call him out since it never deterred him anyway. His persistence, even on days where you were actually paying attention in class, was pretty cute. From the little glimpses of his face that you would catch it was easy to tell how much he wanted to run out the room with you in his arms. Well, Jiro was no stranger to cutting class, but that changed when the two of you started dating. He actually wanted to make more of an effort to prove that he was ‘worthy’, pulling out all of the stops to protect you and make you happy – even mundane things, like wearing chapstick.

Now, instead of sneaking glances in class, he was looking at you head on, with the same amount of love and affection in his eyes that he always does. He’d dragged you out of class the moment it was over, gripping your hand tight as he found a nook around the outside of the school, somewhere perfect for sneaking away for kisses.

When you pointed out how hyper up he was, Jiro suddenly got all shy: “I couldn’t wait, y’know, ‘cause I like you a lot…”

A spring breeze fluttered his hair across his face, enough for you to reach up and brush it aside. Jiro had the same idea, and he became even more flustered once he realised you were cupping each other’s cheeks.

“Jiro, you’re acting like you’re confessing to me all over again,” you bumped your forehead into his so he couldn’t hide the embarrassed look he was trying to turn away from.

“I – I am! I just,” he tried to laugh off the awkwardness in his voice before asking, “I’ve waited all morning – can I kiss you?”

“Of course, Jiro!”

After a shaky inhale, Jiro leaned in and ever-so-slightly pressed his lips against yours. You could feel him smile in relief and tilt his head as he relaxed into your touch. His hands carefully moved from your face to try and find a respectful spot to rest on your waist. Eventually, he settled on pulling you closer with his hands on your back. He was still afraid to move beyond a simple kiss, simply because he was insecure about his inexperience (this he admitted to you in your first vulnerable discussion as a couple) but that didn’t matter. The boyish excitement in his gentlemanly question was his speciality, and way too adorable to resist.

“All the kisses have to be perfect,” Jiro mumbled as if he was going to drift off to sleep, but it was somehow louder than the bell, “but it’s all perfect already ‘cause I have you.”

Every second with him only proved more and more how much of a sweet and dedicated boyfriend he was.

However, a tiny issue lingered.

“Jiro – we have to – class!”

“Nope,” Jiro pulled back and kissed your forehead.

And each time you tried to bring up class? Another kiss.

It had been a few minutes since the bell rang, yet Jiro was persistent in peppering small kisses all over your face, circling around while you giggled at him, and squishing your cheeks in a little when you puffed them out. He could be so stubborn sometimes. It was a nice contrast.

“Hmm…. class can wait,” this was the first time that you had suggested skipping class – maybe Jiro’s delinquent tendencies were finally rubbing off on you. There was definitely something freeing in the feeling of doing what you want for once.

He was certainly taken aback. For a second he started at you, totally bamboozled, until he jumped forward and held you tight, his words coming out almost in a squeal: “Yeah! Yeah!!!!!”

[jaskiersvalley]

heyyya! pls feel free to not respond casue I just wanna tell you that it really brightens my day every time I see you and your beautiful fics on my dash! you're so talented! and generous and kind!!! 😳🥰 thank you for blessing us with all your incredible works! you're an angel in this fandom💫💞🌈💓 love you! and hope you're safe and well!! 💌

You are the sunshine and smile bringer of this fandom, I swear! Sorry it’s taken me this long to respond, my ask box keeps growing (currently at 51!) and I want to give everyone a little story for their kind words. It only feels fair that if you make me smile, I at least try and give something in return. And you deserve so much for such a lovely message. Hope you and your loved ones are safe during these frightening times. And now, for your fic :D

Dramatics was something that was a core personality trait of Jaskier’s. So when he threw himself down on the bench in the tavern next to Geralt, he didn’t even get a curious look tossed his way.

“I am in love!” Jaskier declared, eyeing Geralt up pitifully.

“You’re in love every day. Just eat and by the time your plate is empty, you’ll have forgotten.” Sound advice from Geralt, even if he thought so himself, Jaskier really did love everyone who even looked his way.

“This is different though!”

“I’m sure.” Geralt continued eating. The previous night’s fight had taken a lot out of him and he wanted a day to recover before heading out again. Maybe Jaskier would find his newest one true love for the night and spend it with them.

“It’s not a passing fancy,” Jaskier whined. “It’s something I knew was happening but last night. Oh! Last night!” His hands faced the sky as he stared off dreamily. “You’d gone out on your hunt and I slipped out into the night. I didn’t expect to encounter the most divine of creatures though.”

This didn’t need any encouraging so Geralt pretended not to listen and continued shoving food in his mouth in the hopes Jaskier would stop. He didn’t much want to hear him wax lyrical about someone else. That was like flossing his heart with barbed wire. However, it didn’t seem to deter Jaskier.

“He was breathtaking.” So it was a man, Geralt tried not to feel bitterly jealous. “Skin almost translucent and almost incandescent, I swear it catches starlight and makes the moon jealous.”

If only he had stopped there, Geralt would have been happy. Sadly, Jaskier kept up his adoration of the man he’d seen. “Let us not forget about his eyes. So dark, I swear they were black. The contrast between them and his skin made him look otherworldly. Especially with how thin his skin was, veins visible around his eyes. To trace those with fingers and tongue is to know eternal bliss.”

That was definitely not a sexy look, Geralt knew from personal experience. His potions gave him dark veins around his eyes and villages ran screaming, even throwing up at the sight of him like that. Nobody wanted to look at him like that, let alone touch him. It made bitter jealousy burn in his throat. Undeterred, Jaskier carried on.

“I can’t not dedicate a whole ballad to the way he moved. As though in a dance more intricate and delicate than those the finest courts see. And lethal too. I would die a happy man if I could experience the prowess of those muscles in a dance under the sheets.”

Now it was just getting lewd and Geralt grunted in displeasure. “He sounds like a right catch. Why don’t you find him for the night?” And let Geralt sulk alone in bed.

“You know what, I just might,” Jaskier perked up. “I wish you could have seen him like I did though. He fought that nameless monster with such grace and brutal efficiency. I would have laid down at his feet and begged to be his next prey. Alas, he is a shy one, never wanting me to see him in such a state.”

There was a screeching noise in Geralt’s head as he tried to make sense of it. The man Jaskier was describing was deathly pale with pitch black eyes and dark veins surrounding them, moved with grace while battling a creature.

“Did you see another witcher last night?” Geralt’s bitterness coloured his words with hurt. He could just about stomach Jaskier falling for another man. But another witcher? That burned worse because it meant Geralt could have had a chance except he didn’t measure up to Jaskier’s standards. The bard who loved so freely yet couldn’t find Geralt worthy of his affection.

“I did,” Jaskier breathed dreamily and batted his eyelashes at Geralt. “I saw the only witcher I want.”

Gritting his teeth, Geralt nodded. “Go to him. I’m sure he would be delighted to know of your affections.” Because he’d never measure up, could never stand in the way of Jaskier’s happiness. Even if it cost him his own and he’d lose his bard to another, Jaskier’s smiles were worth his own sorrows.

“Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice was firm and a commanded all his attention. “I think you’re missing a key point here. Please tell me what happened last night.”

“I completed a contract.” Concise and to the point, he didn’t want to draw this out any more than necessary.

“Allow a bard to expand on your story then. You slipped out into the darkness of the night found your foe. To help you, you downed one of your potions, it turned your eyes black, skin white, black veins like spiderwebs around your eyes. That’s how you fought whatever creature and won, correct?”

“Yes.” When put like that, Geralt could almost kid himself into thinking Jaskier had been describing him.

“Now riddle me this, are there any other witchers in the area?” Not that Geralt was aware so he shrugged. “Well then.You should know the answer to this, is the only witcher in the area delighted to know about my affections?”

They stared at each other, Geralt’s mind trying to find the loophole in all this. He found none so, shyly, he nodded. “Yes, very much so. And I’m certain he returns them too.”

With a small ‘whoop’ Jaskier launched himself into Geralt’s arms, dramatic as always.

[sokkathebluewolf]

I am chickened out from gladiator because it is this long and it keeps getting longer is it worth my time to read it ??

... Uh, well. I can’t help but wonder if you’re aware this blog is run by the actual author of the story in question? I don’t know if you expect me to give you a non-biased answer when I’ve considered the story was worth 8 years of my life xD as far as I’m concerned, it absolutely has been worth it, but I can’t speak for the whole wide world when it comes to that. If you want the opinions of readers, there’s probably other blogs run by people who have read the story and who might have critical opinions about it... that may be what you were looking for. If, however, you were deliberately hoping to get my opinion on my own story... well, yes, for me it’s clearly worth it xD Otherwise, I would’ve quit ages ago.

The story is indeed very long and it keeps getting longer, and it will keep getting longer because we’re not done yet and won’t be for a while :’D if you’re the type of reader who can’t stand it when they catch up to stories and have to wait for updates, well, feel free to give it a shot when I’m done writing it, I guess? It’ll be a while until then, but it’s up to you. If you don’t like reading really long stories, then it’s probably better for you if you don’t force yourself to read this one, I know not everyone is ready to dedicate that much time to reading something, especially if they have lots of things to do. Hence, if the length daunts you, that’s alright, it daunts me too and I’m responsible for it xD it’s fine if that deters you from reading it.

But as the way you phrased your question almost sounded like you’re challenging me to give you some sort of sales pitch to catch your attention, let’s see if I can pull it off:

Gladiator is a massive ATLA AU, not only in terms of story length but also scope: it’s a complete rewrite of the entirety of ATLA in a more mature setting, starting chapter 1 with the characters 5 years older than they were in canon. Aang’s adventures in saving the world did not take place here because of a simple enough reason: Katara didn’t accompany Sokka on his boat on the fateful day when they were meant to find Aang, which means the story as we’ve known it simply doesn’t take place. I’ve taken liberties here and there, added some changes from canon when I needed to do so, in order to ensure the story works, but the gist of the story is to set a stage where the Fire Nation marched onwards, practically unopposed, and conquered the Earth Kingdom with the power of Sozin’s Comet (just in case it needs to be clarified, without certain technological developments, Ozai’s wild plan to incinerate the whole world wouldn’t happen, and if Team Avatar isn’t assembled before the Comet shows up, said technological developments simply wouldn’t exist... :’D). I’ve had to figure out how many details would change, how much of the original story would or wouldn’t happen without Team Avatar’s involvement, I think most my choices have been solid, but it’ll be up to you to decide if you think they are or not if you read the story.

The worldbuilding of Gladiator, then, is preeeetty huge and complicated because of that starting point. There’s a lot of elements that are completely new (such as the Gladiator League and all its derivates), some OCs, some lore expansion, so you can definitely say it’s an ambitious project. In a sense, I’ve reset canon to zero, and at the same time I haven’t, which makes things complicated but, for me, really fun to develop. If you’re interested in seeing more of the Avatarverse explored, characters repurposed, with new dynamics and relationships, Gladiator may just be what you’ve been looking for :D

In my experience, the main reason why most people stumble into this fic (other than by sorting FF.net’s ATLA stories by review count and drawing blanks upon glimpsing a Sokkla story on the first page xD) is because they’ve been drawn into Sokkla, or they’re looking for stories centered around Azula or Sokka. Gladiator, evidently, features all three such elements because, obviously, those two are the protagonists and their relationship is the beating heart of the whole tale. I’ve been asked in the past who’s the real protagonist and I honestly still have no idea xD but anyways, if you’re interested in reading a story with a toooooon of Azula character development, even if it takes place across a long, long time, this story may just do the trick. I’ve done the best I could to keep her character as true to what I believed a young adult Azula might become, within the circumstances of this story. She has grown a LOT in 200 chapters, goes without saying (if she hadn’t, I’d be one heck of a failure of an author x’D), so if you’re interested in seeing a slow but effective growth arc for Azula, you’ll certainly find that in Gladiator. Same is true for Sokka, but I think most people who come to this fic for Sokka are interested in seeing him being a badass, which we have plenty of as well xD still, it’s also a long and slow process for Sokka to grow into a powerful warrior, neither him nor Azula start out in the story with all the answers, and they both bump into many hurdles as they navigate their complicated lives.

There’s a lot of humor in Gladiator, perhaps more than expected with a story that has that sort of dark premise, but it’s, on great measure, because Sokka and Azula are inevitably given to banter xD if you want to read a lot of banter between those two, well, you may not be bored in 200 chapters because, while the nature of their exchanges does vary as they both develop, their conversations are usually pretty spirited and they love trying to outsmart each other all the time.

If you are already a Sokkla shipper and the main reason you’re here is because you want more Sokkla goodness in your life... I’ll just say Gladiator has become a bit of a dream come true for me as a Sokkla shipper as well, because it’s the perfect space for me to work with virtually every idea I’ve ever had for these two. Yes, there’s drama and conflict here and there, if you’re not too given to angst there’s a few parts of the story that won’t sit so well with you, though if you love angst you’ll probably enjoy them plenty... yet what I’m most proud of, with this story, is having developed their relationship not only as best I could, but I’ve also attempted to defy typical storytelling structures for romance stories, where the lead couple can’t seem to have a stable relationship because “that would be boring”. Screw that, man: these two have been in a serious relationship together in-story by now for well over half the published chapters, and I’ve had the time of my life writing their dynamics as a couple while the plot continues to develop around them. This, however, is not everyone’s cup of tea, so if you aren’t all that given to seeing such traditional romance storytelling structures dismissed because I wanted to write my favorite ship dealing with all their external struggles while finding strength in the bond they share, Gladiator may not hold your attention long enough for you to devote yourself to reading it beyond chapter 100-ish. On the other hand, if this subversion of romance structure is what you’ve been looking for all your life, or if it’s what you always wanted and never knew you wanted it, or if you’re simply curious as to whether it works or not, Gladiator may suit your interests fairly well. Again, Sokkla is the absolute center of this story, both together and independently, so if you want to see a rewrite of ATLA with them at the core of just... everything? xD that’s absolutely what you’ll find here.

That being said, there’s things I guess you should mind about Gladiator: I have some relatively controversial takes about certain things, including interpretations of fan-favorite characters that some people have been known to take offense over. I, personally, believe my interpretations of those characters don’t deviate that much from canon or that, when they do, the setting itself explains why the deviation works as it does, but due to the fact that I work with a protagonist who was in a villainous role back in ATLA, her relationships with some characters can be more complicated than a lot of people seem to believe they should be. Hence, if you’re not particularly adverse to reading content that brings up big questions about the motivations of certain characters, or how they’d react if the story from ATLA hadn’t happened exactly as it did, you’ll have enough fun in Gladiator. If, however, you don’t particularly care to see anything that shows beloved characters in a not-so-flattering light, this story may not be for you (though, if you’re willing to humor me and allow my story to question your perception of those characters, feel free to try the story as well). 

There’s also a variety of dark themes and situations in Gladiator, something that any reader should be warned about in this day and age: I am 100% against violence for the sake of violence, to name one such subject, and I generally try to portray it with as much nuance as possible, but even if I feature my own characters criticizing their violent world and wanting to put an end to the strife caused by the Fire Nation, some of the violence in Gladiator may be a little too much for the readers who prefer the tone of the original ATLA. Hence, if that’s how it is for you, it’s another reason to approach the story with caution. I won’t pretend I’ve handled every theme and subject perfectly, but I’ve never wanted the darker moments to feel gratuitous in any way, so if you’re open to reading a darker take on the Avatarverse, this may work for you after all.

Alas! If you want to see Azula growing out of the toxic Fire Nation indoctrination, if you want to see Sokka gaining confidence and strength as a man and warrior, if you want to see a fleshed-out but still very much villainous Ozai, if you want to see Toph fulfilling her dreams of joining an all-out fighting league where she can beat people up for a living, if you want to see a myriad of secondary ATLA characters (like Song, or Shoji!) given new lives and even genuine protagonism, if you want to see Zuko discovering he’s allowed to just... be happy? xD Gladiator may prove interesting enough for you.

Furthermore, if you want to see Azula being true friends with Mai and Ty Lee, discovering a dragon, developing new firebending styles, confronting her misplaced beliefs about herself, rebelling subtly (and lately, not so subtly) against her father, growing into a great leader who could change the Fire Nation’s nefarious direction...  aaand if you want to see Sokka fighting creatively (sometimes with TWO swords!), navigating the dangerous waters of interacting with Fire Lord Ozai, staying true to his beliefs while also learning that the world is not as black-and-white as he was raised to think it was, understanding himself better and making the most of his potential as a quick learner, writing embarrassing haiku and being an unapologetic rebel who goes toe-to-toe with Heads of State just because he can... yep. Probably read it? xD

Lastly... if you want to see Sokka and Azula grow through their mistakes, learning to understand each other, fighting side by side, training together, dancing to no music, learning the underrated pleasure of proper communication in a relationship, sassing each other left and right, flirting in ridiculous ways, taunting each other in many regards, laughing at each other’s terrible jokes, protecting each other fiercely, challenging each other to a spicy ramen eating contest, discovering indirect bending, being highly inappropriate at times and places where they shouldn’t be, making long, dangerous yet fun journeys together, sneaking around to meet up when they’re not supposed to, standing by each other in their darkest moments, watching over the other when they’re sick/injured, being ready to sacrifice virtually anything for each other, and even defying and defeating even death to save each other...? Well, I don’t know if there’s any other stories where you might find all of this, but I can guarantee you’ll find it in Gladiator :)

If none of this is convincing enough... that’s a shame, but I understand. If it convinced you to give it a shot, however... I guess I’ll just hope you enjoy it enough to stick around! :) thanks for taking my story into consideration regardless of whatever you decide. Have a nice day!

[gyuutahoe]

The Pen and Sword - Part 1

Summary:  Newly recruited to the Demon Slayer Corps, you finally meet your designated swordsmith. He may be as much of a misanthrope as others had warned, but you were nothing if not determined to bring him out of his shell.

Warnings: None

a/n: female reader, eventual smut, penpals with the feral misanthrope, both reader and Haganezuka are seventeen at the start of the story. 

Upon official induction into the Demon Slayer Corps, you spent day and night at the residence of a safehouse thinking about the blade you would soon wield. Nobody had asked you about your fighting style. You were simply instructed to trust the swordsmith that you were assigned to, and trust in him you shall.

Nothing could have prepared you for the man who many regarded as an utter misfortune to work with. You had waited patiently with the kind old mistress of the safehouse at the front steps of the manor, and immediately upon hearing the distant melody of wind chimes, she hung her head and sighed.

“Dear me, who would have thought to match a beautiful maiden to this young man?” she lamented.

“What do you mean?” you asked, and the woman looked at you sympathetically.

“That swordsmith’s temper fuels his forge,” she replied. “A word of advice - you are young and inexperienced. There will no doubt come time for you to break your sword. When that time comes, please do not take his ramblings to heart.” She rubbed her chin in thought. “Although, even the strongest steel bends to unyielding heat … “

You curiously glanced at the approaching figure. It was impossible to glean any sort of human feature from how heavily clothed he was, and his face was obscured by a wide-brimmed hat lined with the wind chimes that effortlessly soothed your mind. You closed your eyes for a moment, and listened.

Rustling leaves. Soft breaths beside you, comforting and motherly. Singing cicadas cutting your senses, only to be mended by whimsical tinkling, glass pinging against glass, it sharpens your awareness into a singular point -

“I think … “ You bowed politely to the swordsmith as he came nearer. “Anyone who has such a gentle song to them must be pure of heart.”

The hostess threw you a surprised look and muffled a quiet laugh behind the sleeve of her kimono. “You are a lovely young woman. Protect that innocence. It is sure to win you a splendid husband someday.”

You had little time to think of an adequate response, so frazzled by her brazen statement. And that is how the swordsmith met you, catching an eyeful of your reddened face as you sputtered nonsensical words to the hostess and gripped her sleeve like a child.

Haganezuka Hotaru. Immediate threat to say nothing of his given name. You could not stop staring at his strange mask. It looked a little demonic, if you were being honest, and the undercurrent of sternness as he explained the importance of maintaining your sword’s integrity made you wonder if perhaps the warnings about him were true. But his voice was youthful and he spoke with such heartfelt passion for his craft that you felt comforted by his humanity. He could not have been much older than you, if even that - a teenager on the cusp of adulthood. Haganezuka was simply a dedicated swordsmith, and you would become a demon slayer worthy of having such a fine man supporting your endeavors.

You listened to his explanation about the construction of nichirin blades with rapt attention as you kneeled across from him.The hostess sat off to the side and politely watched from a distance. Your heart raced in anticipation as Haganezuka finally unveiled your sword, removing the protective cloth with reverent care as he handed you the sheathed blade.

“I am honored,” you earnestly said, reaching out to hold the sword with both hands. The weight felt just right, not too light and not too heavy.

“You should be,” Haganezuka deadpanned. “Take care of my precious work, you hear me? I am not a forgiving man, should something go wrong. You understand?”

The hostess audibly sighed, and you quickly answered before he became offended. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He waved a hand at you impatiently. “Go on, take a look!” The corner of your mouth turned upward at the sudden excitement in his voice. “The nichirin blade is also known as the color-changing sword. The metal takes on a certain color depending on who wields it.”

“The Roaring Pillar used a golden sword … “ you absentmindedly murmured as you laid the weapon on your lap. The sharp, pungent smell of lightning was permanently embedded into your memory after your first encounter. The ringing sound of the warrior’s breath style still sent shivers down your spine.

Haganezuka’s intent stare brought you back to the present. It was as if the very air itself quieted down for the unveiling. You grasped the crimson handle and pulled the scabbard away to reveal your first sword.

“Focus on your breathing while you hold it,” Haganezuka explained. “Or however you slayers do it.”

The hostess shifted imperceptibly. “Trust in your senses, child. You are attuned to sound. Use it to summon the spirit of your blade.”

And so you listened.

The blade rested comfortably against your thighs. A bird chirped beautifully from the treetops. Haganezuka’s wind chimes sang their whimsical tune. But you did not call upon these sounds. You wanted to know how the metal would speak to you.

You placed two fingertips at the base of the blade, beside the lovely handguard you had failed to admire properly. The braided grooves of the handle held your hand steady as you trailed your fingertips across the cold metal. As they moved, so too did a soothing sound come forth to greet you, and a pale blue glow crept through the path you made.

“What a beautiful color,” you breathed.

“It’s no red blade, but it’ll do the job,” Haganezuka muttered. “Then again, you don’t seem the type to … no, your aura is all wrong. Too gentle.”

You did not know whether that was a compliment or not, but you blushed all the same. “Are red swords special?”

“Yes.”

“ … “ You wanted to hear more, but the swordsmith already had his back to you as he gathered the wooden box that transported your sword. “Will you be staying the night, Haganezuka-san?” you asked with a hint of hopefulness.

“No. Too much work to be done.”

You furrowed your brows. Haganezuka was a man of either too many words, or too little, it seemed. “That is a shame,” you lamented, lifting the sword to inspect the handguard at last. “I hoped you would stay. There’s so much more I wanted to learn about nichirin blades … “

Haganezuka stilled and turned his head slightly towards you. “Why would you want that?”

“How else can I utilize a weapon without fully understanding it?”

“Ask a mentor.”

“Wouldn’t that be you?” He looked back at you fully now, the jerking motion causing the wind chimes to sing. The gormless stare of his painted eyes did not deter you. “Who better to ask than the very person who poured his soul into my blade? This sword is a part of you just as much as it is a part of me.” You smiled, sheathed your weapon, and bowed your head. “Please stay a while, Haganezuka-san.”

“You think your time is worth more than my duties?”

The unrestrained bite in his question caused your confidence to waiver.

“If you educate her properly,” the hostess piped up. “Then that would mean less chances for accidents to occur, yes?”

The effect was immediate. Haganezuka stood up so quickly that you fell back in surprise, and pointed down at you with renewed zeal. “First, I will drill it into your empty head that you should never, ever put your grubby fingers on that precious metal.” He prodded your forehead as he spoke. “And then, I will show you how to clean your sword. Then, I will teach you how to unsheathe your blade without wearing down the blade or scabbard. Then and only then will I teach you how to sharpen the edge. You will not sleep, Demon Slayer. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir!”

True to his word, you did not sleep. But your blade sang happily as you followed Haganezuka’s instructions during your lessons, and that had been enough to invigorate you. Metal may bend to intense heat, but the hammer of his swift tutelage removed all impurities of ignorance from your mind.

[inwiste]

For Day 1 of @finweanladiesweek, a letter from Indis to Míriel

My letters remain unopened, sitting in a drawer in a desk in the library. I know you will never answer, though it brings me great comfort to write to you regardless. Aman feels vast beyond measure now that you are gone. The places we once frequented are so strange to me now, all I can see are the memories of times long past. Sometimes, if I sit still enough and the silence is so quiet that one could hear a pin drop onto the soft carpet, I can imagine you sitting next to me as you always did when we were younger, reading a book or passionately debating whatever topic had captured your attention at that time. 

The silence that was once comforting has become deafening. 

I see so much of your spirit in Fëanáro. His wit almost rivals your own, my friend. He is fascinated by Findis and was absolutely delighted when she crawled over to him to play, though he would not let his adar take the young elleth away from him as she grew tired and eventually fell asleep. Instead, he insisted on carrying her to her bed himself, going as far to tuck her in and blow out the candles as he left the room. 

I must admit that when I learned I was with child, I was afraid as to how Fëanáro would react. Fortunately, my fears were unfounded and he does not feel that we are replacing him or that Findis is loved more than him. Even at his young age, he is skilled with tools and is already inventing his own devices, though many do blow up in his face. However, this does not deter him. If anything, he is even more determined to discern the problems of his previous creations and make them perfect or as close to perfection as possible. He will run to show Finwë and myself at the first sign of success and no matter what we may be doing, it is impossible to turn him away. Not with the smile plastered on his face and the triumph that shines so brightly in his eyes. You would be so proud of him. 

He asks about you, my friend. He knows you are not returning, but he asks how you are doing and if you are happy where you are. Finwë will not show him the monument dedicated to you, though I believe that he must see it. If not now, when? When he is an adult and he has responsibilities that he carries on his shoulders? The little star is a smart child. If someone does not show him, he will find it. I do believe that he could remake Arda himself if he was determined enough to do so. 

The kingship weighs heavily on Finwë’s shoulders, though he refuses to admit it. Fëanáro and Findis banish his melancholy aura with their own radiant happiness and it is wonderful to see him smile as he carries his daughter and holds hands with his son. 

It is not that he does not smile when we are together, that is not true at all. But there is a different smile, a smile exclusively reserved for the children. Their joy is infectious and I find my spirits lifted whenever I am with them, regardless of what matters may be plaguing my mind or how my day may have gone. 

Still, I miss you. Perhaps that is why I continue to write when I know that you will never answer. Part of me wonders if you are watching over us from a land beyond our sight, observing quietly as life continues as it always has. I suppose that is what hurts the most in the end.

No matter the circumstances or the burdens that fall upon us, life continues as if nothing has happened. While my own time stops and Finwë and Fëanáro freeze in place, unable to comprehend the loss that was dealt unto them, the world moves on unhindered. 

Maybe that is why I write these letters. It is possible that a part of me wishes to preserve these moments in time so I can always remember life as it once was. No, that is not it. 

Whatever the reason is, I shall not stop the letters. Even if I wished to, my hand grasps a quill and often writes of its own accord. It is yet another thing in my life that I have no control over. 

I shall end this letter before I stray even further off topic, though I am not sure what the topic of this letter ever was. Before I put my quill down, I must say that I miss you, Míriel. We all do.