#integrity souls born

[soulsbornagdt]

Do we know who the favorite child is?

nerds stick together ig

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FIRST

Art by @anayzdraw

[duskfel]

bad guy.

Justice by @shiverette

Integrity by me

[duskfel]

…

I���ve been going back through the blog after the doc dropped and getting my analysis together and have made several awful discoveries. This post in particular gave… much to think about. Integrity sure does like acting in ways that make me scared.

So Nightmare want to destroy all the positives feelings in the multiverse ??

[rustedleopard]

I feel like if Chujin was still alive during the events of Undertale Yellow, his and Clover's relationship would be incredibly rocky. Pacifist!Clover could bring him around to tolerating them (after all, they have that sort of effect on everyone), but it would be more in a "this human is the only 'good' human" manner than a "maybe I should reevaluate my opinions on humans overall because you can't judge an entire group based off (very biased) stories and one bad experience." Even then, that opinion would be subject to change should Clover ever get frustrated or behave "too aggressively" or act in any manner that isn't perfectly docile. If Clover ends up attacking a monster then it's "humans are just as horrible as they were in the war stories, I should've known better" regardless of the circumstances that could've pushed Clover to fight. Suffocating expectations and endless demands for patience when he wouldn't ask the same of a fellow monster.

And heaven forbid he ever meet Clover on a No Mercy Run...

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss

oooh these are fun ones!

2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)

I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)

This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?

Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)

Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.

Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.

Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.

She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.

If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).

[daportalpractitioner]

aquarius degrees in the natal chart (11°, 23°)

11° = what inherently makes you unique. childhood visions. reserved. premature experience with social media. grew up in "oppression". black sheep of the family. erratic tendencies. unpredictable. makes a great friend, especially if planet is mercury or venus. neurodivergent. really good at what they're passionate about. self-sabotage due to not knowing who you are. natural psychic. tech savvy. ahead of their time. feels like they were born in the wrong generation. family rebel. jaded perception. truth teller. realistic, yet not enough faith. cuts to the chase. social justice warrior vibes. grew up in a community that start has an effect on them today. a perfect world is what you make it. throat chakra blockages. stage fright. the underdog. unstable childhood.

23° = radical viewpoints. dare to stand out from the crowd. a calling to stand for something that you're passionate about. cuts people off with the quickness. natural born leader for your community. family may have opposing viewpoints. you are the movement. being different is not an invite to alienate yourself. a need to integrate self into real community. prioritizes soul tribe. blood is not thicker than water. people calling you crazy shouldn't even faze you. planet gives insight on what you bring to the table. genius ideas. work smarter, not harder. release expectations. unconventional views + values in order to wake up the masses. know who you are + stand on business. huge potential to get rich via social media. age like fine wine. they used to bully you, now they wanna be you. who they copy + take notes from. nomadic tendencies. transmute rejection into self-empowerment.

[ibvix]

YOUR GORGEOUS BABIES ARE BOTH SO LOVING, LIMITLESSNESS TO THEIR UNDERSTANDING AND EMPATHETICALLY COMPASSIONATE MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE BABY FUZZIES HAD ME AN UNKNOWN AND YOU ... YOU THE MOST LOVINGLY COMPASSIONATE BEAUTIFUL WISE SOUL WITH THE WHO WOULD ULTIMATELY BEGAN BRINGING A SURGE OF LIFE INTO MY HEART AND ANIMATED AND WOKE ME FROM BEING AUTHENTICALLY DEATH ... NOTHINGNESS ... SHORTLY AFTER LEARNING AND COMMUNICATING WITH EACH OTHER ... WE VOWED NEVER WOULD WE HAVE ABANDONED EACH OTHER. MY OWN TRUE PURE INNOCENT SOUL LOVE IS THE ONLY ONE WHOM I HAD EVER TRULY LOVED IN MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE, BUT FOR MY BELOVED SWEETIE BABY !!!

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 29]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.4k

ao3 link

Foggy never thought he would be babysitting Matthew Murdock’s kid.

As much as Foggy loves Matt - and it is a lot - he is the first to admit his best friend is more than a bit of a disaster. Matt is brilliant and kind and truly a good soul, but he is also a self-destructive idiot with more baggage than any airport in the nation. He always tries to do the right thing, but the right thing never seems to involve taking care of himself. And that doesn’t even include all the Daredevil bullshit.

If Matt had come to him a few months ago and told Foggy he wanted to be a father - to go out and have a kid at that exact moment - Foggy would have beat him over the head with the nearest solid object. Matt can barely run his own life - there was no way he could raise a child.

Matt was still working on even managing to have friends and a real life outside of his mask and his ability to balance it all had been on thin ice. Matt getting into a serious relationship had been a laughable idea and that relationship leading to a baby wasn’t even a thought. 

As far as Foggy had been concerned, as long as he was Daredevil, Matt was destined to be a bachelor. 

So, of course, God’s favorite punching bag was told he already is a father. 

The change in Matt isn’t what Foggy expected. He expected panic. He expected Matt to be in Church for eight hours a day praying for guidance while he had a crisis. He expected Matt to spiral.

He hadn’t expected him to take to being a father like a duck to water. He hadn’t expected it to completely rewrite his best friend’s DNA. 

It seemed like overnight the dumpster fire of a man he knew was replaced - born from those ashes was someone who Foggy almost didn’t recognize. 

It was a Matt who cares about himself. One who isn't being reckless. One who no longer hides things from Foggy and Karen, who lies about injuries and thinks he is a one-man army. 

In the office, if Matt isn’t working, he’s listening to self-help or parenting books. He talks to other people, and he actually makes an effort to not look like he’s getting abused. He’s focused in a way Foggy hasn’t seen since college and it makes Foggy so so happy. 

But it also terrifies him because he doesn’t know how long it will last. Is this a temporary change or has Matt finally learned he isn’t alone, and his actions affect others?

It is too early to tell and Foggy feels like a complete asshole for doubting his friend and waiting for the ball to drop, but he feels like he’s also being realistic. 

Matt has hurt him so much over their friendship - and Foggy has hurt him, too - and his sweet angel of a child doesn’t deserve to have that be a possibility for her. 

As far as Foggy can tell, Minnie inherited all the best parts of Matt - his smile, his charm, and his inherently good nature. He knows if Matt doesn’t manage to fuck it up - and Foggy prays he doesn’t - she is going to grow up to be a beautiful woman, heart and soul, with no reason to yell at God. 

He couldn’t ask for a better little girl to babysit. 

All she wants to do is watch Lady and the Tramp over and over and Foggy couldn’t be happier to oblige. It is easy to sit back and watch the movie - he hasn't seen it in a long time, and he forgot how charming all the characters are.

It is halfway through the third viewing of the movie when big brown eyes finally tear themselves away from the screen. Foggy watches curiously as Minnie slips off the couch and toddles over to her toy chest in the corner of the room. She methodically begins going through her things, lifting up each toy and giving it a good once over before setting it back down.

“What’cha doing, squirt?” he asks.

Minnie does not look back to him as she replies, her tone making him feel like it is the most obvious thing in the world, “I’m gonna make dinner.” 

Dinner was had before Foggy arrived for babysitting duty, so he guesses it is time for some make believe. He is very much used to this from watching over his nieces and he wonders what kind of play will be in store for him. 

The first toy she deems worthy to have a seat at the table is a Barbie and the second, almost immediately after, is a floppy looking bear that clearly has had another life before this one. The pair are transported to the coffee table and delicately sat down before Minnie whips her head around to look up at Foggy.

“They need says-or-eases,” she says seriously. He can barely get out a confused ‘okay’ before she’s scampering down the hallway to the bedroom. He decides to sit and wait to see what is going to happen. Moments later, the little girl is back in the living room with an armful of supplies. He can make out a lot of costume jewelry, and among the fake pearls and gems, a pair of fake glasses. 

It is all dumped in front of the table unceremoniously before she is off to collect something else. 

Foggy stays on the couch as markers and a variety of play food join the pile on the floor. He has no idea what could be going on in the mind of the toddler, but it is amusing that she is so determined in her task.

Finally, everything is gathered and Minnie plops down in front of her toys, mouth turned down as she focuses. She starts sorting through things, making multiple little piles, and Foggy can’t help but ask, “Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m a Big Girl,” she replies factually, not even bothering to look up. She’s completely locked in on whatever it is she is doing, and since she’s doing nothing deemed risky, Foggy lets his eyes go back to the movie. 

As Lady roams the streets of some unnamed city, Minnie dresses up her toys. Barbie gets draped in so many necklaces her torso is no longer visible, and the bear gets the glasses. She hums and haws over the positioning on his muzzle for a good minute before she takes them off and disappears from Foggy’s eyeline. Her feet pop up a second later and he determines she is laying tummy down on the ground.

He checks his phone as she plays - replying to messages from Marci and Karen and going through a few work emails. 

He is in the middle of checking his calendar when Minnie’s curls reappear in front of him and she is back to trying to balance the glasses on the bear’s face.

Except, now, the lens of the glasses have been colored over in red marker and Foggy knows exactly who the floppy bear is meant to be.

“Is that your Daddy?” he asks, not at all containing the glee in his voice. Karen is going to Love this. 

“Uh-huh,” the baby tells him as she finally manages to get the accessory to stay on. She grabs the doll next and holds it up to show it off. “This is Mommy.”

“That’s Mommy?” Foggy confirms. He quickly switches his phone over to his camera app to start taking a million and a half pictures.

“Uh-huh. They are on a date. Like Lady and Tramp,” she explains, “We gotta make them dinner.”

His heart absolutely soars and he knows this is one of those stories he is going to tell everyone - Matt’s precious little daughter pretending her toys are her parents on a date, while her real parents are out on their first date. It is some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen and he’s glad he’s the one who agreed to babysit. 

He pushes himself up into standing, so ready to get in on this make believe action, “Of course. What are we making them for dinner?”

They spend the next five minutes rearranging things - the play kitchen set is moved into the real kitchen and Foggy drapes a throw blanket between two chairs so the dining guests can’t see the food being prepared. Mommy Doll and Daddy Bear get a plastic Pooh Bear plate between them, and an LED candle is scrounged up to give the date the right ambience. 

Foggy gets designated as the Waiter - he even slicks his hair back and lets Minnie draw a pencil mustache under her nose and she, of course, is the Chef, as well as puppeteer of the toys. 

Once everything is set up - the make believe begins.

“Oh, ho, hon,” Foggy says in a horrible French accent as he kneels beside the coffee table, a pad of paper and a pen in hand. “What a lovely couple! You are looking so beautiful this evening, mademoiselle!” 

“Thank you!” Minnie chimes, altering her voice just a little to be higher as she takes hold of the doll to make it bounce as it ‘talks’. “You are beauty-fulls too!” She then grabs the bear with her other hand and shakes him just a bit, making him sound gruff as he chastises, “What about me?”

“You are as handsome as ever, sir,” is his cheesy reply. With too much flourish, he brings up his pen and positions it on his paper, “What drinks can I get started for you? Water? Juice? Wine? May I suggest a bit of hot cocoa?” He over emphasizes the last word, making the little girl start to giggle.

“We don’ts have cocoa! Only water and appy juice!”

Foggy dramatically throws his hand over his heart, “My apologies! The chef has let me know our options tonight are Water de Aqua and Appy Juice.”

“We want appy juice!” Daddy Bear tells him, and he makes sure to write the order in nice big letters.

“A wonderful selection, sir! We get it from the finest grocer, and it is chilled to perfection. Shall I get you started with some appetizers?”

Minnie squints over to him, tilting her head to the side and doing a wonderful impression of Matt as she asks, “What is an appy-tiger?”

“It is a snack you get before dinner, so you don’t get hungry while the Chef makes the food,” he explains in his normal voice. 

The toddler nods like she really understands what he means, then she turns her two toys to face each other. Mommy Doll is moved first, “Do you want an appy-tiger?” 

Daddy Bear’s head nods as Minnie grumbles out, “I want a cheese stick and ice-cream. Please, thank you.”

“Oh, that sounds good,” Mommy Doll replies. She is turned towards Foggy so hard her necklaces clatter together, “I want a cheese stick, too. Please, thank you.”

He writes down the request and promises, “That will be right out.” As he pushes himself up onto his feet, Minnie streaks past him to get to her kitchen before him. He purposefully takes his time, letting her get herself set up before he arrives. “Order up! We got two cheese sticks and an ice cream for the couple at table one.”

“Two cheese sticks and ice cream!” The little girl calls back excitedly. She moves to start digging through her plastic food, but then she freezes, and she gets a look on her face Foggy has seen so many times on Matt’s that he’s lost count.

She’s heard something. 

Before Foggy can ask what it is, the unmistakable sound of a fuse being blown fills the air and the power dies, leaving them in a deep darkness. A brief panic takes a hold of him - he’s been in far too many situations where this sort of thing means danger - but logic prevails, and he rushes over to the window to assess the damage. 

The neighboring buildings still have their lights on, so someone in the building must have overloaded something. It happens all the time in the heat of the summer and not a cause for him to go into fight or flight mode.

“Looks like it is just us,” he tells Minnie as he turns back to her. He can only just barely make out her outline - there is only one window in the room, and it faces an alley. There is next to no light filtering in and the only thing still going in the apartment is the weak LED candle.

He expects Minnie to be scared - after all the sudden lack of light is kind of terrifying - but she seems completely unaffected. 

“The tee-vee turned off,” is what she replies with, sounding annoyed as can be. 

“Everything turned off,” Foggy counters. “We’ve got no electricity. We have to wait for it to come back on.”

He hears her huff as he makes his way back to the couch. He’s careful as he moves, not wanting to accidentally crush any of the playthings that have been spread around. 

“Do you still want to play Dinner Date?” He asks. It is pretty dark, but if they just stick with going between the couch and the fake-kitchen, he thinks things should be okay. 

“No, I wanna watch Lady and Tramp.” There is a slight whine in her voice that makes him think this might turn into tears and his heart breaks a little. He doesn’t want to be the one to deny her anything. 

“The power is out, squirt. The television isn’t going to work. We have to do something that doesn’t require power.” 

“Why?” He can hear the underlying Murdock Anger in her question, and he notes it is something he’ll have to tell Matt.

“Do you know how it usually makes this sort of noise?” Foggy asks before humming. He can sometimes hear electricity, so he knows she must know what he’s talking about. She confirms with a little ‘uh-huh’ and he continues on. “Well, that means it is getting power and can work. It’s not getting power right now, so it can’t work.”

He hopes the logic makes sense in her little brain. 

She doesn’t respond right away and that worries him. He plucks the little LED candle up from the coffee table and holds it up like a torch. It barely casts enough light for him to see his hand and does nothing to help him locate the curly haired toddler. 

He walks slowly over to the kitchen, hoping to find her pouting by her toys, but the area is empty. He did not hear the pitter patter of feet and groans at the thought of another ninja in his life. 

Of course, Matt’s child would be able to sneak around in the dark undetected. Why wouldn’t she?

“Minnie,” he calls out softly, hoping this doesn’t turn into a game of hide and seek. “Where are you?” 

He turns in place, trying to remember if he left his phone on the table or on the couch. The battery is in the forty percent zone, and he’d rather save it than use it as a light source. He’s pretty sure he was told there are flashlights under the sink, but he can’t remember if it was the kitchen or bathroom sink. 

He decides to try the kitchen sink first and blindly makes his way there. He admittedly doesn’t have the best vision anymore and his eyes are taking forever to adjust to the meager amount of light, so he has to move slowly.

“Will you read me Lady and Tramp?” a tiny voice suddenly asks from right beside his knee and Foggy totally doesn’t scream.

“You totally need a bell,” he tells the child before rubbing at his face with his candle free hand. “If you help me find a flashlight, I can read to you.”

The noise of annoyance Minnie makes is right from Matt’s playbook, “why do you needs a flashlight?”

He wonders if this is the first power outage she has experienced, but if that was so, he doubts he would have been told where the flashlights were. Though, Minnie’s mom is a bit paranoid and anxious, so it could have been a ‘just in case’ thing, but who really knows.

It is a question for later. Right now, he has an annoyed toddler ready to bite his ankles over Lady and the Tramp.

“It’s too dark for me to read,” he tries to explain, hoping she will accept the answer. 

She doesn’t.

Instead, he gets sassed.

“It’s not dark.”

“It is, too,” he counters. 

He can perfectly picture little hands-on hips as she doubts him, “Not-uh.”

He resists the urge to say ‘uh-huh’ and attempts to rationalize with her, “Mouse, I can barely see past my nose. It’s too dark for me to read to you without a flashlight. Can you help me find one?”

He can just see her curly head of hair looking up at him and he doesn’t need to see her face to feel her judgement. With the huff so haughty it could rival Marci, Minnie plops down to the ground and drops something that sounds like a picture book in front of her. 

His suspicions are proved right when he hears the soft fluttering of pages. 

“El…ay..dee..why. El..ay..La! La..dee…Lay..dee..Lady!” Her little voice is full of frustration as she tries to sound out the word Foggy knows she can’t really see and his heart pangs in sympathy.

“Minnie, don’t strain your eyes. Let’s just find a flashlight, it’s too dark to read.”

“I want Lady and Tramp!” The little Murdock barks at him, “I can reads it!” He hears what must be her finger hitting the page and he pictures her trying to trace the words. “La..La..lady. Lady. wuh…wuh..double-you ay ess. Wuh…Wuh-ah…Wuh-ah..”

“Was?” he tries to supply, feeling so guilty. He should just step away and find the flashlight before she really hurts her eyes, but he doesn’t want to leave her when she’s getting into a mood, even if it’s a few feet.

Apparently, helping is not what she wants, because he instantly gets her tiny wrath, “I can reads it myselfs!”

Foggy’s hands shoot up in front of him in the universal ‘my bad’ pose and he apologies, “I’m sorry. Let me get the light and we can read together.” He decides, if anything, he’ll just go grab his phone and waste the battery. Anything is better than upsetting Minnie the first time he properly babysits her. She’ll never want to stay with him again and he’s pretty sure Matt would easily bend to her will. 

“But I can sees it!” She practically yells it at him, her voice getting wet and wobbly. There is a hint of desperation in it that makes Foggy feel like an absolute villain for not believing her. “I can sees it and reads it by myself!”

He gives up on trying to convince her and pivots to go to get his phone. As he carefully steps around her to find his way back to the couch, she picks up her watery ‘reading’ again.

“La..Lady wuh-was a…Lady was a..el..el you..el you see kay…”

Foggy locates his phone on the coffee table and it wakes up as soon as he picks it up. The light hurts his eyes, and he has to look away so he isn’t blinded by it. 

Daddy Bear looks up at him from his interrupted coffee table date, beady little black eyes hidden behind red lenses and so suddenly, with enough force to cause him mental whiplash, Foggy feels like a complete idiot. 

He turns to shine his phone on Minnie, who is hunched over her book, trying her very best to sound out the words. 

“See..Kay…Luh…Luh..see..kay..why..Luh see kay why.”

She is trying to read the word ‘lucky ’he realizes. He knows kids can memorize stories, but there’s no way such a little baby can memorize how to spell all the words and pretend to read them out loud. 

But this isn’t just any normal little baby. 

This is Matt Murdock’s little baby. 

Matt Murdock - who has enhanced senses and passed them on. 

Matt Murdock - who is blind and wouldn’t know what it would be like to have enhanced eyesight. 

“Holy shit,” Foggy says to himself. “She’s got dark vision.”

--

a/n :

i'm sorry, this chapter fought me so much. Foggy refuses to cooperate with me :( this is nothing like i was planning and I kinda hate it

--

tags:

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @astridstark13 @hashcakes

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday @midnightwonderlan

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

@Specialagentjackbauer  @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets @buckyssugarchick

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 

 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl @waywardxrhea 

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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[bloodbenderz]

there was a lot of mistakes made in the live action but the worst one without reservation was that the creators did not understand patriarchy and they did not understand women's liberation outside of an american context ( or any context if we're being honest )

it's easy to see on a surface level how that fucked up katara's whole character how she wasn't allowed to have her character defining moments how she wasn't allowed to be angry or even excited or impulsive but i think it doesn't really become clear how deeply wrong the show's conception of gender & patriarchy is (and the implications for the political landscape of the show) until you get into how they destroyed sokka's character too

sokka's whole Complex is born of patriarchy. i'm not trying to do men's rights advocacy here but in my experience when a people is under constant threat, constant assault, constant violence (much of which is gendered) and the traditional "protectors" or "providers" of that people are men, the masculine role becomes protecting women and children. i am not saying this is a good thing or a bad thing but it is true the narrative of violent resistance is overwhelmingly about men. to be a man in a time & place like this means fighting to protect your women, & to die for them is honorable. that is where sokka gets this idea that he has to be a warrior & he has to fight & if necessary die for katara & the rest of the tribe. it's about duty. everyone has a part to play, a role to fill

everyone including women! which is the other half of this. the duty of women is to keep up the home, to maintain a country worth fighting & dying for, to raise children so that the community can have a future. it becomes especially obvious in the context of the show when you see how the nwt lives & in specific how yue lives and dies.

many women participate in patriarchy. many colonized women participate in patriarchy. most of my family comes from or still lives in a country completely devastated by colonialism & its aftereffects & many women in my family believe wholeheartedly in the idea that everyone in the house has a role to play. it's not because these women are stupid or they hate themselves. but when you grow up believing that men & women are fundamentally different, and seeing that women are in specific danger because of their gender, it actually makes a lot of sense to expect the men in your family to protect you, and to raise your sons that way.

in practice that means that men aren't really expected to do anything around the house, especially when there's no actual danger. my aunt literally 2 days ago told me this lol like she doesn't make her sons do anything bc she wants to let their lives be easy before they have to go out into the world & take care of their wives & children.

what does women's liberation look like when an entire community is under threat? colonized women have been dealing with this question as long as colonialism has existed. the writers of this show don't even pretend to understand the question, much less to formulate a thoughtful response to it. they just say oh, well, katara, yue, & suki are all the exact same type of liberated girlboss for whom patriarchy is no significant obstacle.

which brings us back to sokka lol. sokka, at the beginning of the show, has completely subscribed to patriarchy, has integrated it into his sense of self. he has a lot of flaws, but he also has a lot of really good traits. his bravery, sense of honor, loyalty, work ethic, selflessness, all of this came from him striving to be a good man. he would die to protect katara, because she's his sister. he also has her wash his socks & mend his clothes, because she's his sister. even after he meets suki, humbles himself, & expands his view of the role a woman can play, he doesn't completely disengage from patriarchy. at the end of the day he believes in his soul that a good man's duty is to fight & if necessary die for his people, & that's exactly his plan. this is a very real psychic burden. pre-aang, it's also largely fictional & completely ridiculous. we're SUPPOSED to think it's ridiculous. he's spending his time training babies & working on his little watchtower. the swt hasn't been attacked since their mother was killed because it has been completely stripped of all value or danger it once held for the fire nation, & everybody knows this. there is very little "men's work" left, aside from hunting & fishing, which is so damaging to sokka's self image he resorts to toddler bootcamp to feel useful. the contradiction here is comical. it's also completely devastating. that's supposed to be the fucking POINTTTT like colonialism & patriarchy convinces this young boy he needs to be a soldier & die for his family. & you know what he does? He acts like a young boy about it. they didn't just leave this unexplored in the remake they completely changed the circumstances to 1. make sokka incompetent for some reason 2. make his "preparations" seem less ridiculous. Which ruins the whole character. Possibly the whole show.

all this makes the writing of katara & the other women infinitely more offensive to me. katara is a good character because she believes in revolution. she wants to liberate her people from imperialism, & she wants to liberate women from colonial gendered violence, traditional patriarchy in her own culture, & the complicated ways those things interact. it is LITERALLY the first thing you're supposed to learn about her. she's the PERFECT vehicle to address the question of women's liberation under colonialism. one of the things i was most looking forward to seeing in this show was how labor is distributed in a place where almost everything that needs to get done is "women's work" & how it affects katara & sokka's day to day relationship when their lives weren't at risk constantly. what actually are her responsibilities every day, & how do they compare to sokka's? how does her grandmother enforce these traditions with katara & sokka, & how is that informed by her own experiences in the nwt? what does patriarchy look like in a tribe made up of mostly women & children? it's so important to who katara is & what she believes! but why bother exploring any of that when u could instead make her a shein model who has nothing in common with the source material except her hairstyle lol.

yue is actually even worse to me bc yue is supposed to be sokka's counterpart. she's supposed to show you how destructive it is for women specifically to internalize this gendered duty so completely. it sucks for sokka, but he is a man & thus his prescribed role gives him some agency. yue's role affords her no agency whatsoever, & this is the POINT. to make her someone who's allowed to break things off with her fiance if she likes, who sneaks off to do what she wants when she's feeling stressed, whose will is respected as a monarch, like what is even the point of yue anymore? in the original the whole reason she was even allowed to spend time with sokka was because her father knew she was with a trustworthy boy. her story completely loses all significance when the dimension of patriarchy is removed from it. the crux of her whole story is that she is not just a princess but the literal & spiritual representation of the motherland. that's what women are supposed to represent during wartime, at the cost of their own sense of self. in order to fulfill her duty to her people she gives her life to them in every single way that matters.

it's just so unbelievably frustrating (and WRONG) that the only types of characters for these writers are "soulless misogynistic fuck" and "liberated american-style feminist." there's no nuance at all! they don't bother exploring how real love manifests in patriarchal communities, & how patriarchy defines the limits of that love. or how for so many of these people their idea of goodness, morality, & honor is gendered. or how imperialism affects not just individuals but entire cultures & their conceptions of gender. but why do any actual work when you could completely change sokka & katara's general demeanors, their entire personalities, & their roles in the tribe so you can dodge any & all nuance

Anyways. in conclusion. it was bad

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello!! Do you know any TTRPGs surrounding translation or languages? 😊 (thanks for all your work btw!!!)

THEME: Language / Translation Games

Hello friend! As someone who studied linguistics in university, I absolutely love talking about all of the funky things languages do! I hope these recommendations tickle your fancy!

Dialect, by Thorny Games.

Dialect is a game about an isolated community, their language, and what it means for that language to be lost. In this game, you’ll tell the story of the Isolation by building their language. New words will come from the fundamental aspects of the community: who they are, what they believe in, and how they respond to a changing world.

Dialect uses a deck of cards to help minimize the amount of choices you have to make in character creation, by dealing three cards to each player and having the players choose one from just those three. You track the change of your language over a series of turns, using prompts to help you navigate the conversations that arise in your community as the world around them changes.

Dialect has been very highly regarded as a game that really delivers on the experience that it promises. The grief that accompanies language death really shines through this game, so if you want to combine the wonder of creation with the pain of losing something so integral to your sense of being, this is the game for you.

Tiny Frog Wizards, by @prokopetz

You have mastered the secret arts of sorcery

The very primordial energies of creation and destruction are yours to wield as you will.

You are two inches tall.

Tiny Frog Wizards is a game about tiny frogs, wielding magic using the power of words. When you want to do something magical, you will roll somewhere between 1-3 dice, and use the values of your rolled dice to determine how the range, magnitude, and control of your magic.

What’s important in terms of this game recommendation is the Control aspect, because how well you are able to wield your magic depends on how many words you are able to use to make things happen! It’s a lot easier to use a spell with precision if you have enough words to detail where you want a magical pen to write, or what you want to throw a tiny magic missile at. Not enough words? Then the GM has license to cause some humorous side effects, or, if you roll poorly enough, cause your spells to really go off the rails.

If you like games where you need to choose your words carefully, Tiny Frog Wizards is worth checking out - especially since it’s in free playtest!

Xenolanguage, by Thorny Games.

Xenolanguage is a tabletop role-playing game about first contact with alien life, messy human relationships and what happens when they mix together.  At its core, you explore your pivotal relationships with others on the mission as you uncover meaning in an alien language. The game gives a nod to soulful sci-fi media like Arrival, Story of Your Life and Contact, but tells its own story. It’s a game for 2-4 players in 3-4 hours.

In Xenolangauge, you play as a group of people bound together through a shared past with unsettled questions. Your task is to understand why the aliens have come and what they are trying to tell us. You will soon discover the key to understanding lies in your memories together.

This is definitely an in-person game, as it is meant to come with a modular channeling board that will provide you with alien symbols that you will use to help you interpret messages. This is more than a game about language, it’s about relationship, shared memories, and connection.

Xenolanguage was kickstarted at the beginning of this year, but you can check out the above link to pre-order the game if this sounds interesting to you!

Star-Spawned, by Penguin King Games.

One unearthly night, a ray of colourless light descended from the stars, and under its warping radiance, creatures unlike any the world has ever seen were born. They do not know the world, and they do not know themselves. Unfortunately for the world, they're quick learners!

Star-Spawned is a GMless, oneshot-oriented tabletop RPG in which you don't know what your own traits do when play begins. The names of each group's stats are randomly generated using morpheme chaining, and characters are created while having absolutely no idea what they mean; figuring that out forms the greater part of play.

Star-Spawned is more about self discovery than it is about language, but the use of morpheme-chaining in character creation is intriguing to me. You will randomly roll three pieces of a word, and then chain them together to create a unique Facet, available to the players as stats. These Facets don’t have a meaning when the game begins - you need to play to find out what they mean. If you like playing around with semantics - the meaning of words - this might be a game for you.

Degenerate Semantics, by Mikael Andersson.

Degenerate Semantics is a role-playing game for 1-5 players and one Game Master (GM). The players will each portray a character who live in Emmaloopen's poverty-stricken lower city. They are young, wild, ambitious, and independent. This way of life is threatened by other factions, and the players will need to have their characters work together to survive and thrive.

In the process of playing the game, the players and GM will define and flesh out a language called Bandethal. A collection of street terms and slang, Bandethal is used both as a way to talk openly about illicit activities without alerting authorities and to establish street cred. The terms are liberally mixed in with plain English, or when the language is mature enough, can be used entirely on its own. The characters' success is in large part based on how proficiently the players wield the language.

A friend of mine ran this game for me three or four years ago, and it’s been sitting in the back of my head ever since. Degenerate Semantics was created for a Game Chef competition in 2014, and has remained in the same state since then. I don’t think there’s any more work being done on it, but the game is there for anyone who wants to give it a go - and while there’s a setting that comes with the game, that setting is highly flexible, depending on what your group is interested in. Our group decided to use a lot of gardening metaphors, and undertook a plant-based heist as our act of rebellion! If you want a game about the power that language can give a tightly-knit group, this is the game for you.

I've Also Recommended...

DROWWORD, by Ursidice.

[duskfel]

Heck yeah look at my guy‼️‼️

integrityyyy

[soulsbornagdt]

High five anyone? Don’t leave me hanging- (pls)

I don't know what you expected us to do, slap the pixels??

<===

===>

FIRST

Sketch by @kristinhateslife

Line+color by @duskfel

[duskfel]

You got your reward, was it all you’d dreamed of?

Integrity belongs to me

Souls born AU inspired by agdreamtale

[queers-gambit]

All Mine

title citation: song by Brent Faiyaz

prompt: ( requested ) you and Tangerine break up, and the man you date after is a serious downgrade. on a night out, Tangerine decides your story isn't yet finished.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 7k+

note: did i use this gif already? yes. but it fits the theme of this story.

warnings: same drill - Tan's government name is Aaron, Lem's is Brian. cheater!Reader (not on but with Tan, you'll see), some angst, break-ups, but overall hurt and comfort, happy ending, small NSFW, random "State Farm" quote (not sponsored), smoking indoors, brief domestic aggression, brief violence (it's Tan), term "going postal" used, not edited. "not all men" only applies to Tan i don't make the rules.

We begin today by discussing the concept of soulmates.

World renowned Ancient Greek philosopher, Plato (born Aristocles, not to be mistaken for Aristotle), once theorized that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and two faces. The Greek God, Zeus, motivated either by fear of man's potential power or the need to reprimand their arrogant pride, decided to punish humans by severing them into two perfect halves - dooming them to roam the Earth in search of their whole self.

According to Ancient Chinese mythology, The Red String of Fate (tied by the Lunar matchmaking God, Yue Lao) says lovers who are destined to be are tied together through lifetimes by a red string - the color that symbolizes happiness - regardless of time, place, or circumstance. This string might stretch or tangle (like all relationships), but will never break.

Some Western cultures believe in the idea of simple "soulmates", two people destined to meet and love one another unconditionally. They thought their souls are someway, somehow intertwined - be it in the stars, by the cosmos, or even some intrusive, baby-presenting, diaper-wearing, winged fucker named Cupid. "Soulmates" operate as two halves of one whole, yet still remain two separate individual persons. The idea originates from Plato's theory, but essentially affirms: there's a perfect someone for everyone.

Other cultures might say their religious deity or just faith in said religion is peoples one, true love. Some argue a "soulmate" isn't a romantic partner at all, but instead, a person's twin. You know, same womb, same "soul", that kinda reasoning.

Akin to the Greeks, theosophy claims God created androgynous souls, and these souls were individually split into the two genders they once were. Each half seeks the other, and when their karmic debt is paid (being a reason they were split in the first place), the two halves will return to their whole, true self.

and before anyone says anything about gender, remember, these theologies originate from a time that a modern day Taco Bell dollar menu burrito would literally make the theologists implode!

Some New Age philosophy says a soulmate is a totally separate entity (meaning, not split or derived from us), and who spends lifetimes as your friend, lover, co-worker, partner. Soulmates are the greatest union of the heart, no matter the shape or form it presents as; being two connected souls. Hence platonic soulmates, as well.

Other common literary soulmate idioms:

cut from the same cloth -> meaning being so in-tune and similar in characteristics, demeanor, and / or behavior, you "must've" come from the same place.

apple of my eye -> while, yes, it means being extremely important to a person, it also could mean being the "core" of your lover's heart and / or soul; similar to how an apple core keeps the fruit's integrity.

better / other half -> it's 2 am, this is pretty self explanatory.

ride or die -> again, self explanatory - but indicates that a soulmate will live life loyally with you in good and bad times.

match made in heaven -> being absolutely SO perfect for each other, your love was crafted by divine intervention in the eternal kingdom of heaven - where a thing or two about "soulmates" might be known.

my heart and soul -> your love being so strong, so right, it takes over logic and emotion; and intoxicates your very soul - your entire being.

No matter what approach you take, what you do or don't believed, there was no denying: Aaron was your soulmate.

That arrogant, smug, sarcastic, devilishly handsome, mysterious, devious, sneaky, alluring, intelligent, bitchy, suave, charming, intuitive, opinionated jackass who used the operative codename Tangerine.

But to you, he was Tan. Tangie. Aaron. Ace. The love of your life.

You couldn't avoid it. There was no wishing him away, no genie to appear for your third wish. There was no point in trying to avoid or deny your feelings anymore, they were an 18-wheeler and there was no crosswalk in sight; and that's where everything fell apart - realizing you were ready and willing for this emotion to come barreling into you. When things got serious, when you were ready for distinct, specific commitment, Aaron suddenly reared back and put so much distance between you, it was as if he catapulted into a different timezone.

You had been at a mutual friend's birthday party, and after several rounds of alcohol, where everyone was good and buzzed and happy in their own little worlds, incidentally toppled into a public showdown.

"What's the rush?" Aaron asked you, tears inconceivably dribbling down your cheeks one-by-one while stood in a packed-out bar. "Huh? What's your rush to get married? Things have been so good, doll - so fucking good - and you want to ruin that? This isn't - "

You barked, "'Ruin that'? Ruin, what, exactly!? Aaron, we've been together five years - five fucking years, half a bloody decade - how could you possibly say you don't know if you want to marry me or not yet!?"

"It's not you, love - "

"It's not me, it's marriage that scares you!?" You snarled, so used to hearing it, you can quote him.

"Yes!"

"It's the same difference! You love me, but marriage is so scary, it's not worth it, even with me! No matter how much you say you love me, right? You just can't - no, no! - you won't love me enough to marry me! Because you're capable of it, you're capable of loving me enough, but you're much more comfortable being an emotionless jackass - "

"No, no, don't go putting words in my mouth," he groaned, head tilting back, shaking his curls as he rightened to look at you. "Baby, just listen to me, please, neither of us are in a state to have this conversation - "

"We never are, according to you! It's never the right time, the right energy, right setting! What's the issue, Aaron? Huh?" You felt your anger crack and chip away like a hard boiled egg, revealing the soft emotion inside. "What's the real problem being with me? With marrying me?"

"We're just - we're so young!"

"Try again."

"You're just not thinking about - "

"Oh, no, but I am!" You snapped, setting your nearly empty glass to the bartop and shocking yourself (and the eavesdropping bartender) that it didn't shatter. "I am thinking, Aaron, I'm finally thinking about myself - for once - and I know what I want! And you know what? I'm not afraid anymore to ask for what I know I deserve!"

Aaron scoffed, shaking his head as he did when faced with confrontation. "Neither of us are drunk or sober enough to get though this conversation, so... Let's just..." He trailed, brows furrowing when you shook your head with a hateful scoff, yanked from his grip, and stormed away. But he quickly snatched your upper arm, halting your escape, demanding, "Wait, wait, wait, hang on, love. What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Away from you - "

"They haven't even cut the cake, baby, c'mon, the night is still early - "

"Excuse me while I don't want to stand around here with my ex-boyfriend in front of our friends pretending to be happy."

"What're you - ex-boyfriend?" He stuttered in genuine hurt and confusion.

In that moment, like divine intervention to semi-prove your point, Brian, Aaron's brother, who used the codename Lemon, dropped in. Tangerine let go of you to not make it look like he was holding you in place. "S-Sorry, I know this looks tense, but, uh, bruva," Brian showed Tangerine his phone, "we've gotta go, man..."

"We're in the middle of something, Lem."

"I get that, but... Duty calls, mate."

Tangerine sighed, hand through his hair, turning to you in what you used to think was real empathy. "I-I'm so sorry, love, I have to go - but we'll finish this conversation when I get home, okay? Yeah?

You sniffled and nodded sadly, "See? You see? You love your job more than me, that literally in the middle of a fight about marriage, you're gonna go. Did you see how easy that was for you? Yet you can't love me enough? In a much less high-stakes situation?" With another nod, but this time out of realized confirmation, you breathed, "I'm done, Tangerine." He knew you were serious when you reverted back to his codename; stripping the personal warmth from your tone. "Okay? I'm done. I can't do this anymore, it's absolutely unfair. You've made it clear, you don't want to marry me, so, that's fine, but I'm not in the business of wasting anymore time than I already have. Now," you took a breath, "we can talk later about getting your shit outta my place, probably after your mission, but until then, just please, leave me the fuck alone."

You swore that was going to be the end. It was supposed to be. There was never supposed to be a relapse. Never an epilogue. The Tangerine / Aaron chapter was closed, the entire book was supposed to be closed!

But when you're single for the first time in five years, you kinda forget how to casually date.

There's dating apps, which, as some might know, is just a nightmare experience. There's sometimes local singles events - but they're not always the vibe you usually want to spend your energy on. Matchmakers were (apparently) thousands of wasted dollar. Dating coworkers is typically ALWAYS weird unless you're Jim and Pam, or Meredith and Derek, or whatever other couples TV romanticized. Reality dating shows? That air out all your business? PASS. Taking your mother's recommendations? PASS. Especially if she has her little "church friends" trying to set you up, too? HARD PASS. Sometimes, you just start praying for a hunky Italian Mobster to abduct you - it honestly sounds a little easier (read: this is sarcasm)! Your friends try to set you up, but it usually doesn't click, or it's a strange experience that makes you reject further offers. You could always hope a guy spills your coffee and offers to buy you a new one, which turns into you talk the day away - but life isn't a Glen Powell movie.

Oh, and don't even get me started on ghosting - fuck you if you ghost people, you immature coward.

So, sometimes, you get real lonely, start to feel a little self pity, like you made a mistake breaking up... And maybe you seek company in alcohol... And that alcohol can sometimes help you reminisce... Which exasperates the loneliness... And eventually, maybe that little devil on your should convinces your to text your ex... Which in turn, starts an entire precedent about it being "okay" to go back to him in times of need and desire, of desperation, sometimes of boredom, or even times of comfort.

Aaron had left you alone after the break up, he knew to give you space; so, when you start casually fucking about a year after ending things, it was you pulling all the strings. Women in power, ammirite? Though, Aaron didn't mind your use of him, he always thought the break-up was a fluke of some kind, something fleeting, temporary - hence why he left you alone to sort your feelings. Aaron knew he wasn't perfect, but neither were you; resulting in plenty of "negative" aspects of your relationship, but there were far more positives - more ups than downs - assuring you both know, this was real. This was love. This was true love. It was eternal and raw and passionate... But you couldn't wait forever for him to face his fears.

Until... One night, after hours in his sheets, from the side of his bed, you declared, "This was the last time, Aaron."

He watched you hook your bra, cigarette in his mouth. "Oh, yeah?" He mused, having heard it before. "All right, sweetheart. Same time next week, yeah?" Aaron laughed at his own joke, casually flicking ash into the bedside tray.

"No. I'm being serious, Ace," you sighed almost sadly. You stood to yank your panties and leggings up in one move; shifting your hips, wiggling a bit to adjust the feeling of tightly wadded cloth cutting through raw coochie. "Ryan and I, uh... We're, uh, you know," you cleared your throat, trying to situate your tee shirt without looking at him, "we're going exclusive."

"Uh-huh, is that so?"

"Yep."

"When was this decision made?"

"Oh, uh," you blanched, "the idea was proposed a couple days ago, but we're making it official tonight - "

"I've seen you 8 fucking times this week and it's only Tuesday - "

"I know - "

"What the fuck, Y/N!?"

You glared, "What do you want me to say, Aaron!?"

"That you're not being serious! We're supposed to be together, not whatever - "

"You knew that we were just fucking to blow off steam and fill certain voids, we weren't back together! You always knew one day, this was bound to happen."

"Why? Huh? Why fuck me, but date him?"

"Because you're allergic to committeemen and Ryan isn't!"

"So, why do you keep comin' around? Why keep comin' back t'me, huh? If he's willing to commit, why're you the one fucking around on him? With me?" But the look on your face said it all, making Aaron laugh spitefully, "Ohhh, no, oh, sweetheart. Oh, don't fucking tell me, doll, he's not fucking you right?"

"For fuck's sake, would you please get off your high horse a single moment just to fuck off - "

"Why else would you keep coming back?" He demanded, smug as could be. "Don't wanna date me, but you'll fuck me? Oh, poor Ryan must really be lacking - "

"I told you, this is the last time."

"Yeah, uh-huh, sure," he laughed, leaning back, hands behind his head. "They all always say that before they come crawling back in my bed."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" You snarled, feeling more hurt than you should've. And Tangerine could read it all over your face. "I told you every man I slept with - granted it's only been two this past year, but still - are-are-are you saying there's been others? That you haven't told me about? Have you been fucking other people while fucking me?"

"Hang on, love, listen, I didn't mean - "

"I think I need to go, this was a mistake - all of this - coming back here, fucking you. I need to go," you huffed, stepping into your Crocs (for a quick escape), and rushing to grab your jacket, purse, and keys. The entire time, Tangerine was trying to amend what he said, but it felt like the (final?) nail in the coffin you had been waiting on; assurance that you needed to be without Aaron. See, upon your casual fuck, you agreed to date and sleep with others if you wanted - you weren't exclusive - but for reasons deemed useless now, you were supposed to tell one another about other partners. And he couldn't even do that?

So, you left his flat, and when he followed you out, he saw you disappear at Olympic sped down the staircase - key to his place left on the hallway floor.

"Well, well," his elderly cougar neighbor leaned in her doorway, watching you go with crossed arms and a smirk, "looks like li'l miss is gone finally, huh? This mean you're available for dinner tonight?"

Tangerine snatched the key from the ground, "Not tonight, Mrs. Roberts."

"It's 'Ms' now," she informed, but Tan didn't even hear; just slipped inside his flat, shut the door, locked it, and stood in the foyer, palm flat, looking at the key as if it were a foreign object, for 37 minutes.

Knowing how upset you were, Tangerine didn't try to contact you. Yet one week after your fight, when he knew your standing "Soul Cycle" class took place and you'd came by after, he set up his flat. He got you dozens of apologetic roses all mixed with bright sunflowers and dotted with baby's breath - bouquets he put together himself. Candles lined the place, all lit within fire code restrictions. He played light, modern instrumental music because he knew it had been on your Spotify playlist - not that he was checking it or anything. He cooked your favorite meal by hand. He cleaned himself up, styled his hair, wore the cologne you got him for your first Christmas together (that he's never changed), and wore the baby blue button-up he knew drove you crazy. To top it all off, he got a very dainty golden bracelet - one that was nice enough to convey the amount he spent (as if money = sincerity of apology) but still simple enough that Ryan wouldn't notice if it became part of your normal jewelry box. In fact, nobody would - except you and Tangerine, the way he likes things. The bracelet is even engraved with a subtle 'A' because no matter who you date, he always knew you'd be his and he'd be yours - but wouldn't point this out to you... Yet.

Your class ends at 6:30, you were never later than 7:05. He was ready and waiting at the door, going over his apology by 6:15. He changed into a new, identical shirt at 6:33 after sweating through the first; drying himself, spraying extra antiperspirant over his torso. He changed the tissue wrapping of his offering bouquet so it wasn't wet from his sweaty palms when he gave it to you at 6:41. At 6:46, he began pacing. Aaron began impulsively checking his phone at 6:53. He didn't have your location anymore (a con to the break-up he strongly protested out of fear for your safety) so he couldn't check if you were lost, in trouble, in traffic, at that smoothie place you loved. 7:15 rolled around, no key in the lock. At 7:22, he called Brian in a panic.

"What's wrong? She's just late, Aaron, take a breath, mate."

"She's never late."

7:30 turned to 8... Then to 9... And finally, at 10, Tangerine realized you were serious - that was the last time together.

The hurt suddenly set in, realizing you're not coming back. Selfishly, he knew, he could fill a void no man - even one as objectively good as Ryan - could. He knew you must've felt lonely; craving adventure and spontaneity, something exciting that he knew you lacked with Ryan - or any man.

For days, he agonized - trying to get in your head.

Without him, were you lonely? His job makes him travel, but did Ryan ever take you anywhere? Did he surprise you? Open your doors? Send you flowers? Keep you waiting? Did Ryan communicate with you in the way Tangerine knew you preferred? Was he kind? ...Were you alone?

He knew for a fact, when together, no matter what, he never made you feel unloved, under appreciated, devalued, taken for granted, but perhaps that changed when he began his allergic reaction to the prospect of marriage.

Two years. Two years since breaking up. One year since you ended your Friends with Benefits situationship. One year, you've been with Ryan, and by God, did it drive Aaron insane. For months, Brian felt a responsibility for his part in pulling Tan away that night instead of leaving him to work things out with you, but his brother assured it was a long time coming... Though, Tan had to admit, he never thought it'd go this long.

Like a good neighbor, Jake from State Farm is there! But like a good brother, Brian is there to take Aaron out for a night of necessary debauchery. This was an otherwise mundane activity, something to blow off steam and remove oneself from reality - yet fate works in really funny ways.

The club Lemon chose was packed to the brim; stuffed with bumping, sweaty bodies; strung out to blaring music in various zombified states induced by drugs, alcohol, or maybe both. Luckily, their group had an elevated position in the club's VIP seating, keeping away from the dance floor; giving limited advantage in height when surveying the area.

That's how Tangerine saw you after a year.

Judging from the glittery sash and cheap tiara on your friend's head, he guessed you were there for a birthday party; feeling his stomach knot itself into a noose when he noted Ryan hovering around your flank. He wore khakis, loafers, a creased, pale yellow button-up he guessed was thrifted; holding his drink in one hand, the other shoved in his pocket, bobbing and nodding awkwardly to the thumping music.

When you moved, so he Ryan. When you threw back a shot, Ryan looked away with a long, heavy sigh and curled lip. When you tried to dance, Tangerine saw Ryan snatch your upper arm to reprimand directly in your ear; a couple of your friends even shooting him looks of distain.

A hand clapped heavily on his shoulder, Lemon appearing at Tan's side. "Only you would come t'a club, mate, crawlin' with babes, yeah?" He gestured to the scantily dressed women dancing provocatively around them with his hand holding a drink, "And stand here, like-like, you're Lurch or some shit!"

"'Lurch'?" Tangerine repeated, eyes never straying from where you were in an obvious disagreement with Ryan.

"Like - you know - from the Addam's Family? Tall fucker? Just stands 'round, leering?" Lemon listed intentionally, seeing his brother unmoving. "Jesus, fuck, mate, just go talk to her already! Swear, you stand here any longer, watchin' people, they'll toss us out 'cause of the complaints. Shape up, mate, time t'shit or get off the pot. Move it."

Tangerine finally adjusted his stance, sniffling, shaking his head, "Nah, mate, don't know what you're talkin' 'bout - "

"She's right fuckin' there," Lemon pointed, outing his brother completely, "and you've been a bitch for too long about this. When are you gonna get another chance like right now? Swallow your fuckin' pride, yeah? And just go talk to her! Go apologize! Get her back! 'Cause, just look at her, mate," Lemon paused, both watching you, "think she's happy with a bloke like that? Treats her like that? Only time I ever saw her look at you like that was the night youse two broke up..."

Lemon offered a pursed-lip-smile, patting Tangerine on the shoulder twice and backing up a couple paces. It was like he watched the final bit of confidence Tan needed inject itself into his heart; shoulders almost doubling in size as he shed his suit jacket too casually. Lemon materialized to accept it, laying it in their private booth as Tangerine lit up a cigarette, pocketed his solid gold cuff links, and began rolling up his sleeves while surging through the VIP section and into the general population.

Lemon followed swiftly, several others on their tail as the promise of excitement was too good to pass up.

"I'm telling you, you're being fucking embarrassing!" Ryan was heard snarling. "Let's go home before you make it worse! I have a reputation to protect, imagine what anyone would say if they saw my girlfriend acting like a fucking fool!"

"Oh, Jesus, I have two shots and you think I'm wasted? That I have to go home? You think you can treat me like I'm some child? I'm not going anywhere with you," you snapped back.

"I told you we'd be here an hour - it's past that - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, it's a birthday party! We weren't ever going to stay just an hour!"

"You're embarrassing yourself, now let's fucking go!" Ryan grabbed you again to emphasize his point, but you didn't even get a chance to struggle because Tangerine was imposing himself between you; plucking his smoldering cigarette from his lips, French inhaling the smoke. Ryan snarled, forced back a step, "The fuck - "

"She said she's not going anywhere with you, so I suggest you walk away," Tangerine growled, smoke billowing from his lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ryan scoffed, looking close to laughing.

"That's my girl you're fucking with, so, again, walk away," he lifted his cigarette for a puff.

"Tangie," you spoke gently, holding the back of his designer black shirt and gently tugging him backward, "Tangie, c'mon, baby, back up, let it go."

"'Your girl'?" Ryan actually laughed at Tan, not hearing you over the deafening music, but the two men were clear as day to one another. "Got it fucked up, playboy, if you're tryna tell me what's what about what's mine."

"Yeah?" Tan nodded, grinning slowly. "Think she's yours?"

"She ain't nobody else's - "

"That why she was coming to me this whole time?" Tan taunted. "'Cause you couldn't make her nut, couldn't fuck her right. What a fucking shame, then she had to come to me 'cause I don't disappoint her. She likes the way I fuck 'cause it's the only time I get rough with her, not like you - "

The gathered crowd gasped when Ryan swung first - everyone saw it. The punch never landed, Tangerine keeping you behind him as he adjusted to upper cut Ryan. It spurred an entire altercation; your girlfriends quickly scurrying out of the way as Ryan and "his boys" tried to take on Tangerine, Lemon, and their entourage. The smoldering cigarette was dropped. Security had to step in, blood making the linoleum floors slicker than spilt alcohol made it sticky, both parties being escorted out of different exits of the venue.

You were faced with a decision.

"Y/N! C'mon!" The birthday girl called, holding up her bloodied boyfriend. Ryan paused and glared at you, face fucked, nose broke, eye darkening, jaw swollen, blood smeared; waiting for your decision. You shook your head and let the drunken crowd swallow your form.

Unsure how, you were let into the VIP section to grab Tangerine and Lemon's belongings, quickly jogging in your glittering heels towards the back exit.

"Should've fuckin' killed him - did you fuckin' hear him!? You saw him, what he did!?" Tangerine was raging, pacing the alley as his group watched on; unsure what to say or do to calm him down. "He fucking grabbed her, too, should go find him - put his fucking face in the Goddamn pavement - "

"Hey."

Tangerine froze when your voice was heard, meekly standing there with suit jackets in arm.

"Baby girl!" Lemon barked, laughing happily and opening his arms. "Oh! There she is! C'mere!" He happily growled, hugging you tightly. The others picked up on the hint, excusing themselves to find the cars while Lemon greeted you and Tangerine almost shit a brick.

"Oh, uh," you breathed when Lem pulled away, "I grabbed your jacket, sweetie."

"Thanks, love, can always count on yah," he beamed, accepting the apparel. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "I, uh, I'll go help find the car. We'll be at the end of the alley, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding; squeezing his arm softly before letting him pass. Almost sheepishly, you approached Tangerine, lips rolled between your teeth, noting the split lip and disheveled curls. His hands were on his hips, pacing a small circle, head tilted and unable to meet your gaze. "You, uh, got a li'l something," you gestured at your mouth.

His head lifted, seeing the small teasing glint to your eyes; making him smirk and joke back, "Yeah, just a bit, huh?"

"And you left this," you held out his suit jacket.

When he took it back, Tangie nodded and rushed, "Come home, doll."

"Aaron - "

"Nah, nah, c'mon, come home, baby, please. I know I've been the worst, I know you didn't deserve it - but after losing you... Actually losing you... I mean, when you didn't show up, like you said - I felt everything at once and I knew that I'd never be the man who deserved you, but I owed it to us to try. So... I made the decision to love you better."

"That's nice to hear, but - "

"But without action, it don't mean shit, I know," he finished for you, stepping closer to caress your cheek. "If you let me, baby, I swear, I'll love you better."

You couldn't verbally answer, just sigh and lean forward to rest your forehead on his chest for just a moment of peace. "Thank you," you mumbled, "for earlier, when Ryan got aggressive."

His arms came around in a vice, keeping you close and enveloped in his warmth. Tangerine promised, "Never gotta thank me, baby. Never." A horn blared from the mouth of the alley, knowing it was Aaron's people and you needed to make a decision. Right here. Right now. Yet, your ex just sighed and pulled away, offering, "We can drop you home, if you like. Or I'll get'cha a hotel, can crash with Brian - "

"Can I stay with you?"

Tangerine gulped, appearing shocked but agreeing, "Of course, baby, yeah, yeah, 'course, c'mon, let's go, this way, watch your step, love."

He quickly dropped his arms only to pull his jacket over your shoulders; keeping you at his side as he lead you to the idling car. Unknown to you, Ryan was at his own car, watching, waiting; seeing you leave with Aaron made his blood boil - but when his eyes connected with Aaron's over the roof of his car, seeing him grin, Ryan swore he could've gone postal.

"Are you guys alright?" You checked, Tan keeping you so close, you were practically on his lap. Brian was driving and two other guys sat passenger, all giving varying assurances that they were okay.

"Them frat fucks couldn't hit for shit, love, swear," Brian chuckled from the front seat. "Don't nobody fuck with our girl, yeah?"

"'Our girl'?" You repeated in amusement.

"You's Tangie's girl, yeah?" The guy next to you, codename Fuji, softly explained, "Makes you's untouchable, it does, yeah?"

You just chuckled slightly, readjusting so your arm around Tan's neck tightened; his own around your hips doing the same, silently snuggling closer. The car ride was entertaining to say the least, the lads filling the space with meaningless but very loud conversation about everything and nothing. To your relief, Lemon pulled up to Tan's building first; you two piling out of the car to the sounds of three randy lads cheering.

"C'mere," Tan huffed, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other offered the tinted car The Bird. He lead you towards the building, nodding to the doorman in greeting, "Big man."

This doorman had manned your building since years before you ever moved in; grinning at the sight of you, "Well, well, well... You two look real smitten, you do. There some reason? Aye?"

"Oh, I don't wanna hear it!" You whined jokingly, Tangerine laughing in triumph.

"Got my girl back," Tan clapped his hand into the doorman's, "huh? Told you."

"Aye-heeeyyyy! Welcome home, Missus!"

"Tuh," you barked with a fake laugh, sending Tangerine a sharp look over your shoulder. "Thank you, Thomas," you squeezed the man's arm as you passed.

"Ma'am," he tipped his hat, letting Tan go after you, before securing the door shut.

"Hear that?" You shot at Tan, the lobby attendant sitting up in attention behind the welcome desk. "Even Tom - "

"Don't start before we even get in the door," he chuckled, sighing, nodding to the pimply teen nephew of the building's owner before approaching the elevator bay.

"Don't be a dick - "

"I'm not trying to be, love, I just - I want us to get inside before we do. Yeah?" He frowned, petting hair from your forehead as the elevator dinged upon arrival. "I want us to talk 'bout it, alluvit, doll, but let us get home first."

You sighed and agreed, the machinery traveling up to your flat's floor; which required a key to access. There were only four flats on this floor - all having two stories - and when the elevator dinged to announce your arrival, one of the doors flew open.

You gasped, hand slapping to your mouth to hold in the shrill laughter that rammed into your lips in a desperate attempt to escape. Your eyes widened. You stopped short in your place when Ms. Roberts sauntered into her doorway, leaning on the frame in brand new, expensive, racy lingerie. Her greying hair was curled in stiff ringlets, her make-up heavy and obvious, smelling like she had bathed in perfume by the way it choked you in the hallway.

"Oh, hello, there. About time you got home - OH!" She purred in a low, sexy rumble before jumping in fright when she caught sight of you under Tangie's protective arm. With a squeal, she ducked back into her home and slammed the door; leaving you and Tan froze in place.

"Oh... My... God."

"Get inside, let's go, c'mon, inside, inside, inside, I won't survive if she comes back," Aaron laughed, ushering you to the door.

"I don't think she would, either," you couldn't help but giggle; entering over the threshold after Tan unlocked the door.

The lighter energy surrounding you two evaporated as you took note that Tangerine hadn't changed anything in the year (and change) you've been separated, a haunting comfort to see now. There was the familiar ghost of who you once were, but all of that was forgotten when Tan's hand slid around your waist from behind.

"All right, love?" He asked in your ear, mouthing at the shell in the way that made your head fall to the side.

"Just a lot of memories here," you whispered, holding his arms to your waist.

Tangerine licked at your exposed neck. "We'll make more," he promised.

"I'm sorry I missed so many."

He paused, sighing; forcing you to shiver from the shock of air over your wet skin. Tan straightened up but kept you in his arms, assuring, "It's my fault. But, uh..." Your head turned to look, watching Tan pull his wallet out and sigh sheepishly, open it, then pluck a gorgeous diamond ring from the bill slot.

"What the hell is that...?"

"When I found it, I first kept it in the box, always on me. Just in case, you know, the moment was right - that you'd believe me when I ask you to marry me. But the box kinda," he shrugged, "fell apart from me openin' it, movin' it around."

"So you put a," you squinted, holding his wrist to look at the ring pinched in his fingers, "3 karat diamond ring in your wallet?"

"3 and a half..."

"Aaron," you sighed, turning to face him fully; unable to tear your gaze away from the ring. "I don't want this ring if - "

"No, no 'ifs'," he rushed, "I swear, it's what I want - it's what I've always wanted and just couldn't admit. After tonight, I don't think I can keep this ring - it needs on your finger and that bastard needs put in the ground - "

"Can you not ruin this proposal by threatening to murder my ex?" You laughed, watching his split lips spread into a grin.

"This a proposal?"

"If you word it right, could be."

"Lemme get on my knee - "

"No," you stopped him, nodding, whispering, "just ask me."

Aaron blinked once in confusion, then simply asked, "Will you marry me?"

You levitated into his arms; arms coiling around his neck; lips to his; sucking air from his lungs into yours, mumbling, "Yes, yes, yes," repeatedly. In surprise, Aaron stumbled back a few steps but caught himself, chuckling, fully hoisting you into his embrace.

"Right answer," he teased, carrying you through the apartment and to the nearest piece of furniture - the couch. Dropping down with you straddling his lap, he chuckled, "Here, put it on, yeah? Keep it safe." You grinned and accepted the ring, letting him slide it on, but unable to admire it in full as it became a free-for-all frenzy; tearing clothes from the other, lips suckling, teeth clashing, spit smearing. Breaking apart for a moment, Tangerine growled, "I don't know if I love or hate tonight, huh? Seein' you with him, sayin' you'll marry me, comin' home - "

"Ace, Tangie? Baby?" You smirked, holding his cheeks to keep his face in front of yours, "Tonight's good - it's a good night. Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"It's a good night - say it."

"A good night - great night."

"Great fuckin' night," you agreed, "now, I need you to fuck me before I spontaneously combust - "

Aaron's mouth was on yours before the words were fully formed. You gasped, holding on tightly, encouraging his tongue to tangle with yours as the night's emotions overtook you both in a searing heat of passion. His hands planted on your hips and began guiding your movements in slow, languid strokes over his growing bulge you were seated on.

With a small growl, Tangerine pulled back only to flip you over; laying your back to the cushions so he could hover over you, his hips grinding between your spread legs. "Mine," he grit, licking into your mouth as he pushed his cock directly into your moistening center, "all mine. Hear me? All fucking mine - you won't ever be with another man. Yeah?"

You weakly whimpered, nodding; his teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling. Your breast was palmed by a hot and heavy hand; gasping when Tangie pinched your nipple through the fabric of your dress.

"Nah, nah, nah," Tan grumbled, "wanna hear you say it, baby. Need to hear it."

Boldly, you reached out to rub the heel of your palm into his leaking member, managing to speak against his lips, "I'm all yours, Aaron. Never anyone else's."

"Yeah?" He grit.

"Yeah," you nodded, giving a flex of your hand that made his shoulders stiffen, "and no other man will know me - nor will I know another man. It's you and me."

"About fuckin' time; ain't never lettin' you go again, baby," he breathed, taking both wrists in his to pin over your head. "Now... Let me make up for this past year."

Ms. Roberts wore noise canceling headphones the entire night and began researching new apartment buildings available for move-in ASAP.

Dawn broke, filling the room with a warm, bright light that accentuated the smoke wafting from Aaron's mouth. Neither of you got any sleep; exhausted in the best way possible, laid in bed, your head on his shoulder with arms bent to mindlessly twiddle together in the air.

"Remember that first retreat your company sent employees on?" Aaron asked softly, his other hand flicking his cigarette ash into a nearby ashtray.

"Hm... The one to Cancún?"

"Yeah."

"The one I missed 'cause we had a 48-hour romp?"

Tangerine laughed slightly, "That's the one."

"What about it?"

"Just... Laying here made me think of it. How fucked-out you were, how you missed your damn plane."

"You made me miss it!"

"That sounds accusatory."

You grinned when he lowered the cigarette to your lips, letting you puff it before pulling away. On exhale, you reminded, "You're the one who couldn't cut me a damn break."

"Since when do you want me to go easy on this pussy? Huh?"

With a snicker, you mused, "When you're whiskey-drunk and I'm drinking champagne?"

Tangie paused, then nodded, "Yeah, all right, that's fair. Whiskey dick ain't a joke, love."

You hummed and turned on your side into him, hiking your leg over his hips; snuggling into his warmth, new angle allowing you to gaze up at him. His arm laid around you in a secure hold, the other lazily smoking. You added, "Neither is being champagne drunk, makes me queazy."

"Probably not the best combination for fucking, huh?"

"I don't recommend it."

Aaron was quiet a moment, inhaling toxic smoke with a hiss through his teeth, "Bet they got champagne on them planes to Cancún."

"Bet they got champagne for other destinations, too," you teased. "Besides, why do you care? You're banned from popping bottles."

"Huh? Since when - why?"

"Since you sprayed me with a bottle that cost more than $3,000 USD!"

"If I can't spray my girl in luxury, what the fuck is this all for?" He smirked, looking down at you fondly.

"That bottle was meant to shmooze the German Ambassador!"

"Well, someone should've put a label on it!" You laughed his name, feeling his arm tighten. He tacked on, "Y'know, I gotta admit, just doesn't feel real yet."

"Hmm?"

"You... Back in my arms, in our bed - our home," he gave a great big deep sigh.

"It'll get real when people know we're back together."

"Is it wrong I want it to just be us for a bit? Private, intimate, just being together without everyone's outside influence or opinion?"

You smiled softly, "No, it's not wrong... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the same."

"Then how about we catch a flight outta here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he beamed, suddenly struck with renewed vigor; positively radiating with excitement. You pulled off his chest in time for him to sit up, insisting, "Let's do it all again, baby. Let's catch a flight, change the weather to celebrate us promising forever."

"Tangie, baby, what're you talking about? We can't just up and leave - "

"Why not?"

"We have jobs! Or at least, I have a job with a consistent schedule."

"Oh, c'mon, doll, don't think too hard - let's go, let's catch a flight somewhere warm and sunny."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Tangerine shrugged, "Not likely. Can think of it as some engagement celebration - but just between us. I mean, it's never gonna be 'just us' again, you know?"

With a sigh, you agreed, "All right... Let's go."

"All right?"

"Yeah, all right, fine."

"Yeah? All right? Fine?"

"Oh, fuck about - don't parrot me, Aaron!"

He chuckled with a grin so wide, you wondered how it didn't split his face in two. Your fiancé playfully dropped onto your front; jostling the bed, arms planted on either side of you to keep his weight balancd while dotting rapid kisses around your face.

When satisfied, he pulled back and all but bounced out of bed while encouraging, "Let's go, c'mon!"

"Baby, wait - "

"You grab the passports, I'll pack for us!"

You paused to watch him rush into the walk-in closet, laughing and muttering as you climbed out of bed, "I'm gonna be in questionable clothing this whole vacation, aren't I?" There was a fond smile on your face.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[freakassfemme]

(Smut) Captain's Quarters - Yara Greyjoy x CisF!Reader

Summary: Princess Y/N, sibling of Queen Daenerys, has returned with her sister for a visit to the Iron Islands. These visits used to be more commonplace, but the two have not visited the islands since before the Battle of Winterfell. Y/N has a strong attachment to the islands, but finds her attachment has extended to its reigning monarch in a new, unfamiliar way.

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: loss of virginity, oral sex, fingering, praise kink (kinda), the works

A/N: Long time no see! I got so sick and tired of there being no reader insert for Yara that I arose from the dead with 4.2K words of yara-posting. Yara-yearning, if you will.

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

The night was surprisingly warm for the Iron Islands, and the salty mist of the beaches hung heavy in the air and clung to the sway of your hips and undone hair. Your hands clutched your silken robe shut as you leisured through the sand, a soothing waft of lavender from your recent bubble bath hitting your nose with a gentle breeze.

You paused at the base of the shore, where the brine nipped at your toes and you tilted your head back, deeply inhaling into your chest. Your eyes slipped shut.

It wasn't often you and your sister were able to visit the islands, but gods above, you had missed it. Queen Yara had earned a special place in Daeneyrs's heart after her proven loyalty to the Dragon Queen, and thus routine visits were necessary to uphold the alliance between the Greyjoys and the remaining Targaryens. Sometimes it felt like you had grown up here, and sometimes the coldness of Pyke felt more familiar to you than anything back home, despite how long it had been since you had returned.

You would never admit it, but something about the sea and the people on this particular side of the world had consumed you during all these years of visits. Something about the people's wildness and the way it mimicked the ocean that mothered the island spoke to you and whispered to you at night and danced on your eyelids in spirals and swirls.

Some other nights, when the whispers never came, you would hold a large shell up to your ear and pray. The beloved gift had always answered you with the melodic pounding of waves against rocks, against ships, and lured you to sleep. In your dreams, you would sink into your deepest desires.

In this realm, much below the surface level of what was true and probable, you would find yourself standing beside an iron throne. This was not unusual for you -- you had been born to stand behind your brother, and then readjusted to beside your sister. Your duty had always been protecting the honor of this seat and whomever presides in it, and yet this integral piece of your mind, heart, body and soul vanished in these moments, and instead, you found yourself for once atop of the throne.

Well, atop of its monarch.

Clawing at the throne, which was not particularly jagged and sharp like the one your sister sat upon, and clawing at the crowned, whose calloused hands curled inside you and rough lips whispered filthy promises to you in a voice that sounded an awful lot like

"Yara!"

You stumbled away from the shore, whose once soothing pulls had now gone ice cold and stabbed at your feet and at hem of your robe. Your hand readjusted the collar of your robe out of instinct, as your sense slowly settled, though your burning cheeks lingered a bit too long.

Turning towards the disturbance, your eyes caught on the closest (and largest) docked ship, whose windows and deck harbored light and celebration. A group of sailors and soldiers drank merrily and called for a straggling participant, who marched towards the boat and waved them off, enjoying the attention in her own way. In this moment, you were grateful that the shadows of the cliffs behind you hid your so very clearly out of place figure.

Your attention followed Yara as she boarded the ship, and despite the distance, you could make out the way they all greeted her with a clasp on the shoulder, pat on the back, or smack on the bottom. The corners of your mouth turned up at the raw, unabashed display of admiration.

Shudders ran down your back and you ignored the way your stomach turned. For a moment, you thought about heading back to the castle. Nauseatingly, you thought about knocking on your sister's door and spilling these secrets to her and beg for direction, a command, anything.

Daenerys was the closest thing you had to a mother, and the urge to crawl into her arms and wait for guidance on this troubling issue consumed you as it always had, but you were a woman now, a delicate one, but blossomed and bled nonetheless, and you had witnessed your own sister's call to these womanly urges, and it was incredibly reminiscent of this pull you felt to the Ironborn Queen.

Your mind wandered back to your arrival this morning.

"It has been so long since I've returned," you said to Daenerys as you marveled over the aged walls of Pyke. Your hand danced across the slotted stone, digging your finger into chipped areas and rubbing your thumb against the in-between space.

Daenerys smiled knowingly, hands clasped softly in front of her. Missendei, Tyrion, and Greyworm trailed closely behind.

"How long has it been?" You murmured, mostly to yourself.

"Not since before the war, my lady," Tyrion added, and you turned to him, nodding with a solemn smile.

"It has been nearly that long since I have seen the rest of the Greyjoys, as well. Not since Theon."

Tyrion and Daenerys nod respectfully, reminiscing on Theon's death and the bravery that presumed it. A small silence ensued.

"I never understood how you have adapted so well to this cold, my lady," Missendei said, sweetly cutting the silence.

"She is a dragon," Daenerys replied, reaching out to brush a bit of her sister's hair back into place. "She provides her own warmth."

The throne room was modest in size but exuberant in its carvings, luxurious enough to suggest status but rugged enough to represent the people it ruled. You couldn't help but admire it all, it being so vastly different from the outright lushness of Mereen or even Dragonstone.

Of course, the architecture was not the only thing you were interested in. You turned your attention to the throne, and immediately stopped. Your sister continued for only a few steps more, taking her place in front of you.

"Yara," Daeneyrs greeted with a warm smile.

Yara strutted forward with an unmatched level of confidence, and you couldn't help but stare at the way her leather tunic hugged her strong shoulders. You were used to Yara not dressing like any other lady you had known, but couldn't help but always think the natural defiance in her pants and boots exuded power and self-assurance. Yara looked somehow more bold and stronger than you had ever seen her, and it was admirable in an unfamiliar, indescribable way.

"My queen," Yara bowed in her own way, a half-smirk ever-present, "It is an honor."

The two clasped arms, and Daenerys smiled before turning to you.

"I'm sure you remember my little sister, Princess Y/N."

Yara's attention followed, and you couldn't help the way you held your breath and stared up at her with widened eyes. It was like you were seeing her for the first time.

"Princess Y/N."

Yara said your name like she was trying it on, but in truth she had always used formalities in this way, especially towards you. In your aw-stricken mind, you'd like to think that her gaze softened a bit. She had never looked at you like this before.

"Your return has been long-awaited."

She outstretched her hand, and you took it with both of your hands, feeling yourself relax into it. Your eyes watered a bit, and you squeezed, unable to avoid the way you beamed up at her.

"I have missed the islands dearly."

Your sister had given in to her own desires, and she had lived to tell the tale. Perhaps you would too.

The ground seemed to push you towards the ship, and by the time your eyes unglossed and you regained clarity, you found yourself standing at the base of the footway. You of course had been on many vessels that belonged to the Iron Fleet, and you knew the people on board rather well, but you couldn't help but feel nervous now. These men were rather drunk, and you knew you probably should have an escort this late. Not even status could always safeguard a lady from the hands of depravity and sin. Stupidly, you grabbed on to the ropes of the ramp and pulled yourself aboard.

Immediately the overwhelming stench of ale and piss cause you to wrinkle your nose.

"Gods above," you whispered to yourself. Though you had been quiet, the sailors very quickly took notice of your presence.

"Princess!" one called, waving at you with his mug of ale. It sloshed over the sides and splashed, narrowly missing you. The men around him jokingly scolded him.

"Come on Ravos, you don't want to ruin her dress," a dark haired, stout man called Yohn slurred.

"Don't look like she's wearing much of a dress to me."

The men turned to you once more, and your ears burned, now with a much more uncomfortable feeling as they eyed you. One coughed and shifted on his feet.

You wrapped your robe tighter, straightening yourself up like you had been taught. You narrowed your eyes slightly, and responded directly to Ravos.

"Where can I find Yara?" You asked, hoping you exuded more authority than the piece of meat you felt like.

Reacting much more appropriately, he turned and pointing towards the North end of the ship.

"Captain's quarters," he grunted, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded, and the fifteen or so men stumbled backwards to allow for a path.

Carefully you stepped over puddles of questionable substances and shards of glass, maintaining as much grace and fierceness as you could muster. Behind you, the men resumed their activities, seemingly already over the drunken encounter. You knocked once on the Captain's door, before hurriedly slipping inside, eager to escape the sailors.

As you shut the door and turned to face her, you had to carefully force out a normal respiration rate. Yara was propped up in her chair with her boots resting on the desk, holding her own stein, though her sobriety seemed much more intact.

"Hello, princess."

Yara didn't bother hiding her surprise. She set her stein down and dropped her arms to the ends of her arm rest. A smirk creeped across her face, and she leaned her head back as she very obviously eyed you up and down, legs spreading a bit for a better view. Despite her brute persona, she did seem to try to hide the way she stuttered over the V of your robe.

You noticed anyways.

"A little far from the dressing room, are we?" She nodded at your outfit. You blushed and nodded with a smile. She smiled back and sat up. "You should know better than to walk around alone at night like that, especially here."

"I'm not alone now," you replied softly. Here in the candlelight, she was able to see you fully.

Yara took notice of the way you wrung your hands together, the way your eyes were glued to the loose laces of her tunic, the rose hue of your cheeks and ears, and your long, snow-white hair falling in loose curls around you.

Yara had known you for half a decade at this point. When she first met you, you were a scrawny, timid little girl who watched from Daeneyrs's shadow. To be fair, you were still quite shy, but you were a woman now, not nearly the little bird of a lady that you used to be. Now, in the warm lighting, she could see that these days you were more of a snow leopard than a cub, and you looked almost regal.

For a moment, Yara wondered what you would look like on the throne instead of your sister. Her hands squeezed at her chair at the idea, and she concluded that that was an image that would inspire millions.

Yara's eyes returned to your face, recomposing her commanding demeanor. She shrugged and stood, traipsing leisurely towards you.

Your eyes' followed each other, studying the other until they met. Yara had never looked at you this way, not that you could recall, and the curiosity in her face sent a thrill down your spine and fueled your ego.

"Oh, but I am as much as of a predator as any man out there, princess," Yara countered.

Peculiarly, you stepped forward, taking Yara by surprise at this newfound confidence. She watched you, and noticed something lurking behind your irises, something Yara was very familiar with and could feel exuding off of your body, but ten fold. She knew why you had come.

"And I am a dragon," You murmured, meeting her eyes without hesitation. Up close, you looked even more feral than before, with the sea spray making a wild mess of your hair, and each rock of the boat interrupting your breaths.

Yara backed up to sit on the edge of her desk, and you followed, keeping the distance small but not yet close enough. Yara waited for you to make a move with unusual patience. You raised your hand to caress the open area of her shirt with your palm, then push it aside just a few inches to trace her collarbone with your index and middle finger.

"Are you scared of dragons, Yara?"

"Anyone in their bloody right mind is scared of dragons," she replied, watching your hand as her breathing grew heavy. You giggled, reaching your hand around to cup the space between her ear and neck, letting your thumb rub her jaw.

"Are you scared of me?" You spoke quietly, like it was a secret meant to be kept safe between the two of you.

"I'm hungry for you," she growled, eyes heavy with desire. You felt your core throb in an entirely new way, letting out a small whimper at the feeling.

Finally, Yara reached out, hand splaying across your lower back, where she could finally feel that the robe was the only thing preserving your modesty, and she could've fainted at the realization.

"I've never been with a dragon before," Yara confessed, halfway a joke, yet halfway entirely all too true. You brought up her other hand to truly cup her face, bring her attention to you.

"I've never been with anyone before," You whispered, and for a second Yara could see that familiar timidness she knew of you flicker between the lust clouding your vision. "You are the only person I've ever wanted."

Yara let out a small noise at this. "Then you must be starved."

You nodded, eyes falling to her lips.

"Can I?"

"Please."

The first thing Yara noticed was how warm you are. Your lips against hers were like fire, and your soft whimpers made her want to crawl inside the flames and be burnt alive. You practically fell against her, knees going week, but she grasped you with both hands and held you up.

This alone was like nothing you had ever experienced. Your ears rung from the intensity and your nails dug into Yara's skin ever so slightly, illiciting a gasp from her that you greedily swallowed.

Yara reached back with one hand, pushing herself off to stand, keeping you slotted between her legs. She turned you both, pushing you against the desk until you were sitting atop it now. You raked your hands over her shirt, grasping at it and pulling her as close as you could. Yara put her hands between you and undid the tie to your robe, hurriedly pulling it off your shoulders. She reached under your thighs, lifting you up by them and letting the robe fall on to the floor.

As Yara angled you on to the desk, you propped your arms behind yourself, baring your legs to her. She paused, staring at your bare form and licked her lips.

"Gods below," she growled, running her hands up your body. You shivered as they danced over your thighs and ghosted over your breasts. "You're fucking stunning."

Yara pushed back between your legs. The warmth of her skin against yours and the cold leather of her pants pressing against your bare sex made you moan. Yara shoved her hand back behind your back and laid you down flat.

"Such a pretty cunt," she whispered, tracing her thumb over you. You gasped at the touch, and watched as she brought it up.

"Do you know what this is, sweet girl?" Yara watched the way the wetness glistened on her finger, and you nodded your head.

She grinned, then brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked it clean. You whimpered at the sight, nearly panting now in desperation.

She leaned down to kiss to you and forced her tongue into your mouth. You moaned at the feeling and at the taste, grabbing on to the back of her head and pushing back with your own tongue. Yara groaned into your mouth and grabbed you by the neck, deepening the kiss, if that was even possible.

Yara's scent and touch and taste consumed you, feeding into every one of your senses and bleaching them until all that was left was her.

Finally, Yara put her hand against your chest and pushed you back against the desk.

"Be a good girl and open your legs a bit more for me," she commanded, and without a single underlying thought, you obeyed, gasping at the way your stomach turned at the petname. You watched with slightly parted lips, panting, as Yara sunk to her knees, staring into your eyes so intensely that you couldn't even think about looking away.

She settled between your legs and brought her hands to rest up on your thighs, just in case. You pushed up on your elbows, trying to see what she was going to do, when she pressed a firm kiss to your sex. You groaned, cheeks going pink, and Yara reacted similarly.

She kissed again, this time open mouthed, and gently sucked on your growing bud. You could feel your cunt pulsing, and your thighs quivered around Yara's head, but she held firm.

She licked stripes around your clit, teasing you before giving it a direct swipe that had you balling your fists and curling your toes.

"Yara!" You gasped, perhaps a little too loudly, because the voices outside of the room suddenly quieted. You froze, looking down at her in panic, but she didn't share the same concern.

Instead, Yara chuckled, murmured your own name against your cunt almost tauntingly, and without any warning, eased her tongue inside of you. Your whole body stuttered, and you slammed your hand against the desk. Yara gripped your legs even tighter and repeated the motion, and you couldn't find it in you to keep quiet, not with the way Yara was working you like she was eating her last meal.

"Fuck," you groaned, back arching. You head fell back, curls falling with it, and Yara swore she had never seen anything more stunning or satisfying. Yara's own cunt throbbed impossibly hard, but she continued her merciless assault, drawing curse after curse from you, until Yara was certain the men outside knew exactly what was going on and with whom.

Yara stood and pulled your hips closer to the edge of the desk. Holding you by your hips, she rocked her hips against your core, and you gasped at the new sensation. You grabbed her shoulder, holding yourself up.

Yara cradled your face with one hand, and you buried yourself in her arm, ear pressed against her chest, whining and whimpering. She pressed kisses into your neck, nipping at it and bruising it. Slowly, Yara stopped her hips, and just as you started to get question it, she spoke.

"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?" She teased, and you cried out, nodding desperately into her arm. Yara laughed, and then when you felt her middle and ring finger prodded at your entrance, you clenched down, gasping.

"Relax, sweetheart," she whispered, kissing right behind your ear. "I'm going to take good care of you."

You shuddered against her, but tried your best to settle down. Yara started pushing in again, and you clenched again out of instinct, this time clamping down on her fingers. She groaned into your ear.

"You're so tight," she whispered, and you pulsed around her fingers, whining. Once she was entirely inside, Yara curled her fingers, and your whole body reacted.

Your legs wrapped around her, holding her in place, and your fingers dug into her lower back while you saw stars. You bit down on her arm, at least still attempting to keep quiet, and Yara moaned loudly. When you finally loosened you grip on her arm, she pulled your face back by your hair.

"Does that feel good?" She whispered against your lips, and you panted, pressing kisses between each breath.

"Yes, y-yes," You cried out, and she pressed a knowing kiss to your temple.

"I'm going to move them," she warned, and you nodded, eyes glassed over and lips parted. She kissed your fiercely, then held eye contact as she started pumping her fingers. You groaned loudly, then started moving your hips to meet her hand. As your body adjusted to the foreign feeling, you grew confident.

The sound coming from it was obscene, and you pulled Yara down to sloppily kiss her. Yara pushed harder, and so did you. Soon, you developed a rythym, and you could feel a pressure building up in your stomach. Yara glanced down at her hand, then back up at you, eyes unbelievably filled with even more lust. You followed her gaze and practically melted at the sight.

Thick, hot cream spilled out of you and on to Yara's hand, and gods above, her hand was huge. Her palm practically framed your whole cunt, and the sight made you dizzy.

Yara flicked her thumb over your clit, and you choked, grabbing her neck to hold you up from falling backwards. Your whole spine tingled, and your vision started to blur.

"Y-Yara, I'm," you gasped, but you weren't entirely sure what was going on. "I'm, I think I'm gonna -"

"Cum, sweetheart," Yara groaned. "You're going to cum for me." She pumped her fingers harder, and you sobbed into her arms, feeling your stomach ball up tighter, tighter, tighter, and then burst.

You screamed into her shoulder as your cunt gushed over her hand, and Yara moaned your name into your ear at the feeling. Your hips stuttered, but Yara kept pumping until you were shaking uncontrollably and babbling nonsense. Then, she eased out of you.

She tilted your head up with one hand, then brought the other soiled one between the two of you. You looked up with watery eyes and red cheeks, and watched as Yara licked your cum off of a few of her fingers. Then, she prodded your lips with the remaining two, and you opened your mouth, accepting it gratefully.

You pushed her fingers farther and farther down your throat, chasing that high and letting the bittersweet flavor swirl and cloud your taste and mind. You looked up at Yara through wet lashes, and she swore she could've creamed herself.

"Fucking hell," she groaned, and pulled her fingers out of your mouth, worried you'd probably suffocate yourself on them if she let you work at them any more.

You coughed and gasped, and regained your breath just before she pressed a firm kiss against your mouth. When she pulled away, you stared at her with wide eyes and she panted down at you. You couldn't pull a single word to say off your tongue.

She kissed your temple, then the side of your head, and rested her forehead against yours. "Gods below, are you sure that was your first time?"

You nodded breathlessly, swallowing thickly.

"You fuck like a-"

"- I want to do it again."

Yara pulled back, studying your face. Her face was expressionless, and for a moment during the silence, you were worried you had angered her, or somehow shamed her skill. Then, the corners of her mouth curved into a smirk.

"You want to do it again?" She asked, tilting her head until her lips were almost slotted against yours. You nodded your head.

"Is that okay?" You asked, no shyness left to spare.

Yara laughed loudly and kissed you. She stepped away, running her hands through her hair.

"Yes, fucking absolutely," she assured. She reached down and grabbed your robe. "But not in here, I have other things to show you."

You quickly got dressed. Your body shook, so Yara helped you with it extensively, and kept you steady. You looked up at her quizzically. "Other things like what?"

She grinned wickedly before pulling you up into her arms, one arm under yours and the other under your knees.

"You'll see, princess," she assured.

In her brutish style, Yara kicked open the door to her quarter's. The soldiers remaining on deck went absolutely silent, staring at the two of you with both terrified and amused expressions.

Yara coughed loudly and you buried your face into her shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

"If you gentleman will excuse me, me and the lady are going to retire for the night."

[sensualnoiree]

Aries:

Key Themes: New Beginnings, Initiative & Action, Cardinal Fire Sign, Leadership, Vibrancy & Vitality, Boldness & Courage, Sudden Bursts of Power, Spontaneity, Quick Decision Making, Spark of Inspiration, Pioneering, Risk-Taking, Passion & Enthusiasm, Empowering Energy.

Symbolism & Archetype: Aries embodies the essence of the "pioneer" and "warrior." It signifies the spark of life and the birth of new cycles. The assertive and action-oriented nature of Aries is linked to its role as the first sign of the zodiac, where the journey begins. As a Cardinal Fire sign, Aries initiates action with a fiery zeal, often acting as a trailblazer in any situation.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I come forth, and from the Plane of Mind I rule" encapsulates Aries' journey of self-realization and mastery of will. Aries is where divine ideas are born, and its energy drives the manifestation of the divine will. The "Heart in the Head Lotus" represents the spiritual awakening and higher consciousness that Aries can achieve when aligned with its higher purpose.

Taurus:

Key Themes: Fixed Earth Sign, Venus Ruled, Grounded & Stable, Appreciation for Nature, Enduring, Stubbornness & Reliability, Cultivation of Taste, Value for Quality, Slow & Steady Rhythm, Resistance to Change.

Symbolism & Archetype: Taurus is the "builder" and "preserver," embodying the energy of stability and endurance. As the Fixed Earth sign, Taurus is connected to the physical realm, emphasizing the importance of security, material wealth, and sensual pleasures. The bull symbolizes strength, patience, and a deep connection to the earth.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "I SEE, and when the eye is opened, all is illumined" reflects Taurus' journey toward spiritual illumination through the material world. Taurus is associated with desire, but this desire evolves into a drive for spiritual beauty and the synthesis of the divine within the physical form. The "penetrating Light of the Path" signifies Taurus' role in revealing the hidden mysteries of the heart.

Gemini:

Key Themes: Quick Learners, Social & Charming, Mercury Ruled, Communication, Intellect, Curiosity, Versatility, Adaptability, Dynamic & Changing Energy, Love of Learning.

Symbolism & Archetype: Gemini is the "communicator" and "trickster," representing the duality of mind and the flow of information. As a Mutable Air sign, Gemini is associated with the exchange of ideas, quick thinking, and adaptability. The twins symbolize the dual nature of Gemini, constantly exploring both sides of every situation.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I recognize my other self and in the waning of that self I grow and glow" speaks to Gemini's journey of integrating the higher and lower selves. Gemini's energy is about relating and connecting, overcoming the illusion of separation. It is linked to the heart of the Sun, symbolizing the central role of communication and connection in the sustenance of life.

Cancer:

Key Themes: The Crab, Intuitive & Sensitive, Moon Ruled, Emotional Sensitivity, Nurturing & Protective, Strong Attachment to Home & Family, Sentimental & Nostalgic.

Symbolism & Archetype: Cancer is the "nurturer" and "caretaker," embodying the energy of emotional depth and protection. As a Cardinal Water sign, Cancer is associated with the nurturing of life, whether it be through family, home, or emotional bonds. The crab symbolizes protection, retreat, and the cyclical nature of life.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "I build a lighted house and therein dwell" reflects Cancer's journey of creating a safe and sacred space for the soul. Cancer is where the light of the soul begins to shine within the form, illuminating the path of life. The sign is associated with the breath of life, signifying the connection between spirit, soul, and form.

Leo:

Key Themes: Fixed Fire Sign, The Sun, Leadership, Radiant Personality, Attention-Seeking, Bold, Creative, Passionate, Loyalty & Stability, Devoted in Relationships, Heart Chakra & Compassion.

Symbolism & Archetype: Leo is the "king" and "hero," representing the power of self-expression and leadership. As a Fixed Fire sign, Leo embodies the energy of creativity, confidence, and vitality. The lion symbolizes strength, nobility, and the desire to shine.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I am That, and That Am I" reflects Leo's journey toward self-realization and spiritual mastery. Leo's energy is about illuminating the self and others, leading with the heart, and achieving self-mastery. The "will-to-rule and to dominate" signifies Leo's potential for self-control and the conditioning of the environment in alignment with the divine plan.

Virgo:

Key Themes: Mutable Earth Sign, Mercury Ruled, Attention to Detail & Discernment, Analytical, Practical, Connection to Digestion & Assimilation, Preparation for Judgment & Equinox, Diligence & Service.

Symbolism & Archetype: Virgo is the "healer" and "analyst," embodying the energy of service, organization, and purification. As a Mutable Earth sign, Virgo is associated with the practical application of knowledge, meticulous attention to detail, and the cultivation of order. The goddess Demeter symbolizes the nurturing and harvesting aspects of Virgo.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "I Am the Mother and the Child; I God - I Matter, Am" reflects Virgo's journey of integrating the spiritual and material worlds. Virgo's energy is about nurturing the divine potential within the material world, preparing for the revelation of the hidden spiritual reality. The sign is associated with the nurturing force of substance itself.

Libra:

Key Themes: Cardinal Air Sign, Venus Ruled, Balance & Weighing, Harmony & Fairness, Focus on Relationships & Social Harmony, Beauty, Art, & Aesthetics.

Symbolism & Archetype: Libra is the "diplomat" and "judge," embodying the energy of balance, harmony, and fairness. As a Cardinal Air sign, Libra is associated with the weighing of options, the pursuit of justice, and the importance of relationships. The scales symbolize equilibrium, duality, and the quest for fairness.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I choose the way which leads between the two great lines of force" reflects Libra's journey of finding balance between opposing forces. Libra's energy is about achieving harmony between the soul and personality, creating a point of balance where spiritual opportunity arises. The sign is associated with the probationary path, where duality is known and choice is inevitable.

Scorpio:

Key Themes: Fixed Water Sign, Ruled by Mars, Intense, Mysterious, Deep Emotional Connections, Passion & Intensity, Resourceful, Strong Intuition, Power of Self-Transformation.

Symbolism & Archetype: Scorpio is the "transformer" and "warrior," embodying the energy of deep emotional intensity and the power of transformation. As a Fixed Water sign, Scorpio is associated with the exploration of the depths of the psyche, the confrontation of fears, and the process of rebirth. The scorpion symbolizes resilience, defense, and the ability to regenerate.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "Warrior am I and from the Battle I emerge Triumphant" reflects Scorpio's journey of inner transformation and spiritual triumph. Scorpio's energy is about the merging of the light of form, soul, and life, leading to the liberation of the soul from the lower worlds. The sign is associated with the trials and tests of the soul's journey, ultimately leading to triumph and liberation.

Sagittarius:

Key Themes: Mutable Fire Sign, Ruled by Jupiter, Outspoken, Adventurous, Philosophical, Freedom-Loving, Idealistic, Generous, Wanderlust, Spiritual Aspiration.

Symbolism & Archetype: Sagittarius is the "seeker" and "philosopher," embodying the energy of exploration, truth-seeking, and spiritual aspiration. As a Mutable Fire sign, Sagittarius is associated with the quest for knowledge, the pursuit of higher wisdom, and the desire for freedom. The archer symbolizes direction, focus, and the pursuit of lofty goals.

Esoteric Perspective: The mantra "I see the Goal. I reach that goal and then I see another" reflects Sagittarius' journey of continuous spiritual growth and expansion. Sagittarius' energy is about seeing the vision of the goal and directing one's course toward it, driven by an intuitive sense of direction. The sign is associated with idealism, spiritual aspiration, and the power to see beyond the present.

Capricorn:

Key Themes: Cardinal Earth Sign, Ruled by Saturn, Ambition & Persistence, Practical Applications, Duties & Responsibilities, Focus on Building Secure Structures & Financial Security, Connection to History & Ancestry.

Symbolism & Archetype: Capricorn is the "builder" and "strategist," embodying the energy of discipline, responsibility, and long-term achievement. As a Cardinal Earth sign, Capricorn is associated with the pursuit of goals, the importance of structure, and the mastery of the material world. The mountain goat symbolizes perseverance, ambition, and the climb to the top.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "Lost am I in light supernal, yet on that light I turn my back" reflects Capricorn's journey of achieving spiritual enlightenment and the responsibility of turning back to serve humanity. Capricorn's energy is about balancing the light of the personality and the soul, leading to the experience of the mountain top, where spiritual initiation takes place. The sign is associated with the triumph of spiritual will over material limitations.

Aquarius:

Key Themes: Fixed Air Sign, Ruled by Uranus, Humanitarianism, Idealism, Connection to Higher Thought & Collective Ideals, Social Reformer, Emphasis on Friendship & Community.

Symbolism & Archetype: Aquarius is the "visionary" and "reformer," embodying the energy of innovation, idealism, and the collective consciousness. As a Fixed Air sign, Aquarius is associated with the pursuit of knowledge, the importance of social connections, and the drive to create a better future for all. The water bearer symbolizes the pouring forth of knowledge and wisdom to humanity.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "Water of Life am I, poured forth for thirsty men" reflects Aquarius' journey of serving humanity through the dissemination of spiritual knowledge and the promotion of unity. Aquarius' energy is about the realization of the oneness of all life and the importance of the collective good. The sign is associated with the awakening of spiritual consciousness and the unfolding of the plan for humanity.

Pisces:

Key Themes: Mutable Water Sign, Ruled by Neptune, Compassion & Empathy, Connection to the Subconscious & Dreams, Intuition, Spiritual Awareness, Sacrifice & Service, Boundlessness & Unity.

Symbolism & Archetype: Pisces is the "mystic" and "dreamer," embodying the energy of compassion, empathy, and spiritual transcendence. As a Mutable Water sign, Pisces is associated with the dissolution of boundaries, the exploration of the subconscious, and the connection to the divine. The fish symbolizes fluidity, the connection to the ocean of consciousness, and the ability to navigate the depths of the soul.

Esoteric Perspective: The phrase "I leave the Father’s Home and turning back, I save" reflects Pisces' journey of self-sacrifice and spiritual service. Pisces' energy is about the realization of unity with all life and the willingness to serve the collective through selflessness and compassion. The sign is associated with the completion of the soul's journey, leading to spiritual liberation and the merging with the divine.

follow for more astro insights like this and head on over to @quenysefields or my etsy --> sensualnoiree to grab my new astrology guidebook on reading your own natal chart :)