#she looks closer to her children’s age than her own if there was no war she would have outlived her son and didn’t even get any power

[amyrlinegwene]

Morgase is one of my favorite minor characters in the books. I find her so interesting, both as a subversion of the dead-parent trope, an example of a character finding strength when everything has been taken from them, and also as a case study in how even just a little bit of the one power can greatly affect a person, but also how her relationship with the Tower is complicated as a monarch, a former novice, and mother to a future Aes Sedai who has gone missing. I think she is such an interesting character and emblematic of how Robert Jordan gives so much humanity and depth to minor characters who would be written off or one dimensional in other series.

[hhnguyen]

aren’t you just precious

Everything medical related was a google search, so those in the medical field please don’t come for me - I was a literature major for a reason 😭

♢ Pairing: Parents!Jake & Neytiri x Oldest daughter!Reader

♢ Word count: 2k 

♢ Genre: suspense, action, angst, slight humor - Warnings: explicit description of injuries, blood, cursing, reader is a lil crazy

⌲ Description: Your iknimaya goes a little south. Aka introducing the ‘demon ikran.’

M A S T E R L I S T

Jake Sully, a marine veteran at the age of twenty-two had gone through absolute hell on earth before ever setting his disabled ass on Pandora. 

He thought he had seen the worse - comrades shot down right in front of his eyes, the blood covering their skin, blank dead eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes there were those who were actually blown to bits by bombs and grenades, screaming not even five feet away from him as they clutched their missing limbs, begging a nonexistent God for mercy.

Then there was his own injury. The pain he hardly remembered, because he had gotten to the point of delusion when they finally managed to drag him out of the war zone, half dead, and to the VA hospital.  

The incoherent words he had heard after waking up from his surgery despite his hazy vision and buzzing hearing at that time, yet the truth coming out of the doctor’s mouth had still hit him in the face like the largest ‘fuck you and your life’ to exist. 

“...ave severe spinal injury...fixable...expensive, marine.”

A severe spinal injury that was fixable but too expensive for a marine like him to afford. 

For an active man as he had been in the past, the thought of being paralyzed from the waist had been his worst nightmare to the point of being ready to waste away his life. 

Though even after all that shit, Jake Sully felt like he wanted to throw up as he stared at his oldest baby girl at the fresh age of fourteen laying there in front of him; delirious as he had once been in the same position, bleeding and bruised. 

He could only thank Eywa that your heart was still beating and your body intact. 

Well, mostly. 

The almost nauseous angle of your left wrist certainly did not look natural. And their bones were fortified, stronger than anything else to human knowledge. Yet it had managed to snap as easily as that. 

Neytiri - his beautiful, poor mate. She was distraught, one would say more so than him. Sitting only inches away from your fevering form in one of Hell’s Gate treating rooms for avatars, muttering prayers with dried tears upon her face. 

Your injuries had been so severe that not even the abilities of your grandmother, the Tsahik, could heal you solely through the spiritual power of Eywa. These kinds of injuries needed the advanced surgery of human technology. 

His other children were barred from coming inside, having been firmly ordered to remain in their village as he and Neytiri made sure that you would be okay. None of them wanted to keep them away, but neither did they want them to be traumatized by seeing your bloodied and broken form. 

A stark contrast from the smiling and proud sister that they knew. 

And yet, you had still managed to complete your iknimaya. 

Jake watched with a bated breath from the air upon Bob, his own faithful ikran through the years, as he saw the slight encouraging push Neytiri had given you on the edge of the nesting place. Your, oh so small form, looked firm and stubborn as you steadily stalked forward in a crouched form, the band for the beak held in your grasp with determination. 

He watched as one ikran flew away. Then another. And another. A third one. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. 

He had lost count after the eleventh. 

You were getting frustrated, he could see that. Neytiri was still there, calling out for you to calm down. To be patient as he moved Bob a little bit closer, but not too much to distract you if you were to see him hovering. 

And there he was. 

Jake had seen it before you did. The vicious screech even reached him high up in the clouds and echoed above all the other ikrans. 

He felt his blood run cold as the midnight blue beast, nearly black in color with its yellow and green detailing jumped down from the highest point of the rocks and landed behind you as you whirled around with snarl of your own. 

But then as fleeting as it had been, you had grinned, taking in the magnificent animal despite its bloodthirsty aggressiveness. 

“Aren’t you just precious?” Neytiri had told him of your words in the aftermath. 

His mate hollered in encouragement, and he could hardly stop the prideful tug of his own lips. 

Rather than you leaping on the beast, Jake straightened up as he saw the ikran run at you as well. Both were only inches away from crashing, as you last minute decided to slide beneath its belly - slight enough to fit as you rolled away on the other side and then slung the catcher around its mouth swiftly before throwing yourself on its back. 

His expectations had been hopeful from that moment. Positive. But wrong, oh so wrong. 

Rather than trying to snap at you by turning, he watched in horror as the ikran seemed to have a human mind as it slammed against a stone wall, you hitting it first. 

Neytiri had screamed, already half leaping forward but stopping herself as she saw you still clinging to the beast. 

Both had thought that had been the worst of it until the ikran tried it again. This time deliberately falling backward to land on its back with a rumble, where you were hung on. 

“LET GO MA ‘ITE! LET GO!” Neytiri was yelling. Or begging. He couldn’t be sure in his own fear. 

But both of them underestimate you, as a growl mixed with what Jake had assumed to be a painful yell from yourself erupted. Legs manage to wrap around the animal’s neck despite being crushed underneath its weight. 

He saw belatedly you were only holding on to the banshee catcher with one hand as you pulled at its head hard enough to make the animal let out another vicious muted screech. 

And then you truly proved you were his daughter. 

“C’MON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. GRANDPA BOB WAS BETTER THAN THIS!”

The ikran had gotten angrier, trashing before suddenly rolling like a fucking bowling pin on the stone-covered ground. 

Towards the edge of the cliff. 

Neytiri ran, and Jake dove, both reaching out and screaming your name as you and the ikran fell off the edge. 

As his mate leaned almost desperately over the edge, Jake forced himself to draw Bob back up, only for a few seconds - not to interfere with the rite. But it was in those few seconds he felt like his heart had stopped beating. 

There was that familiar screech again. 

Then you were soaring. 

Up in a straight line, past Neytiri and him. Tsaheylu clearly made as the ikran listened to your orders. 

There was a blinding grin on your face as you soared, clearly looking for him and letting out a whoop. 

The moment your eyes caught his, Jake felt his grin slip. 

Your eyes, open just moments before suddenly rolled back. Your whole body went slack as you fell over the side, your newly bonded ikran screeching at the sudden weightless feeling as the bond broke and your body went straight down. 

Jake hadn’t heard his desperate yell, this time diving down without stopping. 

He thought you were dead when he managed to catch you and flew back up, only to have Neytiri meet him in the air on her own mount, an expression so clearly in distress. Without a word, they both made haste back to the village, your newly bonded ikran following closely behind. 

“How is she?” His voice sounded like it had gone over fifty years of smoking with no water. It felt like his whole body was weighed down with stones. 

“She’s alive,” that’s all that Max could offer with a grim expression. “She will need surgery. The momentum of her slamming repeatedly against stones with the ikran’s weight on top has managed to collapse a lung.”

Jake had never wanted to sob like a newborn baby until now. But he needed to remain calm, or at least sane. For Neytiri’s sake, and your siblings.

“Usually surgeries like these lead to long-term conditions in life, but we’re certain that with the Na’vi biology she will heal just fine without complications. But it’s the healing that will take time.”

He was nodding along, but it felt like he was far away. Only hearing a slight inconsistent sound in his ears as he watched through the see-through glass into the room where you were all connected up to tubes and an oxygen mask. 

It was so human, the whole situation of you being in a hospital bed for avatars - Jake wanted to laugh. Not in humor, but maybe in slight delusion at the situation. 

“Okay, okay…” he swallowed. “Anything else?”

His human friend was taking pity on him, Jake knew. 

Max has been there since the beginning. Seeing Jake growing his own family and now being placed in this position. “Besides the broken wrist and strained ankle, it’s mostly cuts and bruises. So she will have to wear a brace as well as remain seated for the next week or so. And check-ups every three days.“

“Yeah, we can do that,” Jake croaked. “When’s the surgery?”

“As soon as possible.”

Another nod. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course.”

He had to nearly pry Netytiri away from you as she snarled protectively. But he had to explain that she couldn’t join in on the surgery due to contamination concerns. The whole room had to be fixed to match that of a Na’vi body, the surgeons wearing oxygen masks as the space was filled with Pandora’s toxic air for your sake. 

It was an open lung surgery, Jake had been told. A risky procedure even on earth. It had taken four hours. Four hours full of anxiety and fear. 

But you had pulled through, Max said, Norm closely behind with a relieved teary smile himself. The man was like another uncle to the kids despite his avatar form. He had watched their ceremonies, rites and connections to Eywa. So to Norm, this was just like a family member to him. 

You had slept for a full day and a half after the surgery, still confined to the avatar hospital room before your eyes had fluttered open with difficulty. A cough erupted followed by your painful whine at the action.

Netytiri had hushed you gently, crouching down and stroking your hair back. Fresh tears fell at seeing you conscious again after so long, sobs breaking out as you flashed a sleepy smile at her. 

Neytiri had felt like Eywa had pulled the entirety of Pandora away from underneath her feet during the hours of your examination and surgery. Clutching Jake to her and never wanting to let go as her oldest baby was at the mercy of nature and your own will to live through. 

But she knew. 

You were strong. You always had been. And you had fought. 

Neytiri had never imagined a day when one of her biggest nightmares nearly came to pass. 

To lose one of her children. 

She would rather throw herself off the highest point on Ayram alusìng than lose one of her precious babies before their time. She believed in Eywa with her whole heart and soul and knew their beings were only borrowed and one day had to be returned. 

But Eywa would not take her children away from her until Neytiri herself agreed. 

Until that time, she would do anything to protect them. But to have it happen during one of their most treasured rites in life had prevented her from doing many things. 

Interfering for once. Because you had said so before as if knowing how horribly wrong it could go. 

“Do not stop me, mama. I can do this on my own.”

Of course, you could. And you did. 

Despite having to brush the doors to Eywa’s home yourself to succeed. 

And as your parents carefully helped you back home to the village after five days of observation at Hell’s Gate after your surgery, you couldn’t help but snicker despite the stabs of pain.  

Your mom had admonished you gently to not aggravate your wounds. Whereas your dad held back the roll of his eyes with amusement tickling the sides of his mouth. 

“Why are you laughing, flower?”

Your grin was shit-eating as you looked up at him.

“My iknimaya was so much cooler than Toruk Makto’s.”

“You little skxawng.”

I feel like I lowkey pulled this one out of my ass, but oh well. 

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[avatarkv]

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (4)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of violence and death. (wc: 4955 )

Neytiri was up early– too early. 

She ran her hands tiredly over her face, her fingernails barely grazing the creases of her skin. Her eyes felt heavy, but it wasn’t tiredness that forced itself to weigh on her lids– it was the dread that continued to settle in; she could hardly make out the sound of the pot blowing out steam, rising in pitch with the soup threatening to boil over. The lid covering the kitchen pan was shaking fiercely, trying desperately to contain itself.

No, who was she kidding? She had lain awake all night, tossing and turning in her hammock. Not a single wink of sleep had been granted to her. 

Neytiri swore her heart cried every time she took a deep breath, gravelly gasping along her. She couldn’t sleep even if she wanted to– not when tuk-tuk quivered in her embrace the whole night; the slightest movement made her flinch and the softest touch made her cry. It was gut-wrenching, the thought that her own child felt no safety in the arms of their mother.

Not my children, eywa. Not them too. 

War had started long before her mate had come, Neytiri couldn’t blame him– but sometimes, late at night when the only sounds that grace her ears are the thoughts running through her head, she dreams of a life away from the wildfire and bullets; a life where she had fulfilled her mother's desires and took Tsu'tey’s hand instead. Every once in a while, the idea pierces her heart as she finds herself tucked in between Jake’s embrace. It felt wrong to think so, like being unfaithful, but not quite.

Tsu’tey was never someone who crossed her thoughts as a person that had gotten away from her, nor had she ever been attracted to him in a romantic way. It would’ve been an union of convenience; for the clan and the people itself. They would be unhappy– unhappy and awfully miserable. With Jake, it was something else entirely; like marriage had more meaning to it rather than a simple alliance. Sure, it was miserable, but they were happy– she was happy. Neytiri could never resent her mate, not when they’ve come so far already.

However, in terms of her children’s well-being, she couldn’t help but think if Jake was the bane of it all– the root of every bad thing that has happened to them. There were no softer words to lay it out, but they deserved better. Her children deserved none of this war. 

She was crying again– crying for them. She let the beads of tears roll down her cheek as she stared afar with not a single coherent thought behind her eyes. 

It was no surprise that Neteyam was already up with the sun rising. He moved quickly, quietly lowering the fire and lifting the lid of the pot with caution— hissing when its hot liquid splashed onto his skin. With a concerned look on his face, he glanced over at his mother who sat an arm’s length away from the very stove; how could she not have heard the loud cackle of her own cooking? He was sure it would’ve caused a wildfire if not for him. 

He slowly moved closer to Neytiri, gingerly reaching out and nudging her with his fingertips. He was mindful not to startle her already tired state. “Sa’nok– sa’nok?” Neteyam called out to her, “Sa’nok, are you okay?” 

Neytiri stirred just slightly, turning her head to view the worried face of her eldest. Her lips thinned involuntarily, a feeling of relief washing over her; her children were here, safe and sound. Nothing will happen to them– not ever.  As long as she lived, they will never be harmed ever again. No demon would take this away from her.

A wave of panic swept over her as she finally realized that she had been cooking before. She quickly turned back to see a billowing cloud of smoke rising from its surface. Neytiri cursed under her breath as her small attempts at fanning away the fog that had settled upon the area were to no avail, finding herself in a fit of coughing. “Why don’t you get y/n?” She requested, voice strained. “She can help with breakfast.” 

With a heavy sigh, Neteyam could only nod, quickly leaving.

Right, y/n– you. When was it never about you? 

Neteyam grumbled as he dragged his feet towards their thatched hut, kicking at every pebble that came across his path with a grunt. It wasn’t you who had woken up early to assist Neytiri nor was the one who had stopped fire from possibly spreading and yet, your name just had to be the first he’d heard today. 

It was you. Always you. 

Neteyam would be a big fat liar if he said it didn’t affect him. He saw you as a parasite – a damn leech that was draining the life out of everyone around him. He couldn't understand why you had to be so selfish and callous; why you were unable to look past Jake’s reprimands when all he desired was your well-being or how you had driven his own mother to such anguish that it became her own undoing. 

You weren’t a kid anymore. On top of that, you weren’t theirs– so why had you always been on top of their priority? Why had you become a chore? 

But never his, oddly enough. You were too good for him and he hated that. 

(Heavy steps thudded behind Jake as Neteyam trailed, his disappointment palpable. He had been unsuccessful in his mission to persuade his father to let him come along on today’s expedition, always quick to dismiss him. He had gone through all the training, but what was the point if he still wouldn't be able to put it into practice? 

Being olo’eyktan one day will never feel rewarding. 

“It’s too dangerous, Neteyam.” Jake grumbled under his breath, eyes never meeting his as he gathered his arrows. “I need you here. Make sure Lo’ak doesn’t follow– do you copy?” 

Neteyam couldn't help but wince when he remembered the time they had failed to be spotters, but it was just that one time– why couldn’t he let it go? It weighed down heavily on his conscience; the mistake that even still, months later, sent shame prickling on every fiber of his being. 

Jake expected a copy in return– a curt yes-sir but Neteyam was silent. He finally urged himself to look up, only to see both his eldest locked in an intense stare, eyes never wavering nor breaking away from one another.

It clicked almost instantly the moment you walked through the flap of the hunt, clutching on the strap of your woven bag that held your own weapons. The war-paint drawn across your face had been the salt on the already deep cut of his– you were coming. Jake had asked you to come and he wasn’t. 

You were looking down at him, Neteyam was sure of it; judging him, and no doubt thinking of how much he had failed himself. His sense of shame deepened as he saw the derision in your expression, feeling more exposed than ever before. He wanted to disappear right then and there, anything to escape this moment that felt like an eternity. 

But you were there. You always were– and you could see straight through him. 

If only he knew how different your mind worked– how you desperately ached for the same concern Jake had for his son. You wanted him to understand the immense longing to be seen in the same light that he was in, to receive even a fraction of his unwavering affection; wanted Jake to care enough that this could be the last hunt he would have with you, that you could get hurt or worse. 

Jake was worried enough to sit his golden-child down; the one with capabilities greater than those warriors years older than him– the one he would make olo’eyktan someday. 

Not you. Never you. 

Neteyam was the first to turn away, a deep rugged grunt leaving his lips as he nodded once. 

“Lima charlie.” ) 

What really messed with his head was that, despite his obvious resentment, he couldn’t actually bring himself to truly despise you the way he felt he should. Every time Neteyam looks at you, he swears he only sees himself– the same child that only yearns for the recognition of a father. There is a reflection of each other in the two of you that binds you nonetheless. 

He wanted to truly look up to you; he wanted what Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk felt when they were with you– to have someone older, to feel as if the weight on his shoulders wasn’t his alone. Neteyam tried, he really did, but as much as you were there, you also weren’t. 

It wasn’t always like this. Your relationship with him wasn’t built entirely on rivalry– he knows he had something more familial with you before, but whatever it was had blurred along age. As much as he wanted to come closer, you were always two steps ahead of him. To you, he will always be olo’eyktan– but never a brother. 

It was a harsh reality– the same hands that cradled him when he was small couldn’t even look at him the same; like he had grown so ugly that you couldn’t recognize him at all. You didn’t even want to fly your ikran with him, nor did you want to train the same time he did. 

He hated you, but not quite– he could never hate his sister. You were more of a stranger now that lived under the same roof as him and it was better than to perceive you as someone rather horrible– but that was what you were. A horrible, horrible stranger. Someone who saved him once from trouble and handed him years of headache in return.

You were a horrible sister. That’s what you are. 

(“Tsmuke, what do I do?” 

You couldn't believe your eyes as you gazed down at the mess on the floor of the hut. Beads were all over, and what used to be a clay tray laid shattered into several pieces. Neteyam stood still in midst of it all— the culprit of such doing evident. Your brain wracked itself to move, to do something.

“This is sa’nok’s favorite necklace. She told me to come get it for her, but the shelf was too high–” Neteyam spoke in a rush, hands gesturing wildly as he talked. His face crumpled in worry and his brow furrowed with frustration.

"’Teyam, don't move!" you said in a hurry, alarmed at the thought of him taking a step forward. Moving quickly to his side, you gently stopped him from doing so and scooped him up under his armpits. He was heavy in your arms as you stood there with him, but the shards beneath were sharp enough to cut skin. You grunted as you moved him aside. 

"Tsmuke, what are we going to do?" He asked again, his voice running high with worry. 

You tried to think of another solution, assessing the situation once more. You glanced at him and said, "I'm going to tell ma I broke it so she won't be mad at you." You quickly search for something sturdy enough to scoop the pieces off the floor. Maybe you can redo the necklace, but there was no salvaging the tray. 

“But I broke it– she’ll know.” He visibly deflates, not exactly thrilled about not being truthful to Neytiri.

“Only if you tell her.” You said, looking up at him with a slight smile, though your heart was racing. You felt terrible knowing that you were going to disappoint Neytiri, especially since her beloved necklace had snapped– but something about your little brother's worry-stricken expression tugged on your heartstrings. You understood why her scolding was necessary, but it felt wrong to leave him alone to bear the brunt of it. “This will be our little lie, okay?” 

“Lie?” 

You immediately dismiss him, gesturing impatiently for him to exit the hut as quickly as possible. “I’ll tell you about it later, but you have to promise now that whatever mom says, just know that I broke it.” 

He only offered a subtle nod in response, his eyes glossed over as he nervously played with his hands.

“Say it, ‘teyam. She’ll be back any minute now!” 

"You broke it!" Neteyam had shouted and almost as if in response, Neytiri had walked in through the hut's entrance, all but gasping as she took in the sight before her– shards of what once held her jewelry now on the floor. She stumbled slightly as she carried the basket of fruits, before dropping it to the ground and quickly scurrying over towards you.

The scolding you got was harsh, but Neytiri couldn't do much other than wrap her arms around you and sigh. You were just a kid, after all. Mistakes like these are inevitable and all she could do was understand. 

Neteyam was patiently waiting just outside the doorway, swinging his legs back and forth as he listened with a heavy heart. He awfully felt guilty. You sat with him moments later.

“Why did you do that?” He quietly asked.

You looked at him with a confused face, “Do what?” 

"Lie." He says, his accent making the word feel awkward in his mouth. It was unfamiliar to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You only say, casually shrugging as you swung your legs along his. Little Neteyam looked at you with the most confused face; eyebrows furrowing and the creases in between deepening as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened. 

But then you glanced at him again– winked and gave a small giggle. 

And only there did he understand. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

“Thank you, y/n.” )

Neteyam didn’t even realize he had finally reached home. He stared at the flap of the hut, unable to let himself in, despite living here ever since. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having a moment alone with you– not when the thoughts that ran through his head had been unpretty. 

He knows damn well Eywa could strike him down if she heard herself. 

He sighed, “Y/n? Sa’nok asks for you.” He softly said, waiting for a reply. You had never been a deep sleeper; any little noise would bring you right back to consciousness. Every creak from the floor, every whisper and murmur from outside, even the lightest rustling of leaves would startle you wide awake in an instant. Neteyam knew of that, knew of the many sleepless nights you had. You had the habit of scratching the walls of the hut, carving who-knows-what on its surface. It kept him from being able to get any rest himself. 

When only silence greeted him, he finally urged himself to go inside only to be met with an empty space. 

Your absence now felt different to the other times when you had gone for a stroll through the forest or set out to train before dawn. It was not like that this time, and Neteyam felt it deeply. He frantically rummaged through the hut, searching every nook and cranny for anything that you possessed. Nothing. Neteyam stood at the center of the room, taking in the now cluttered room. 

His fingers nervously reached up to the intercom on his ears. A voice crackled over the device, "Sir, is y/n with you? Over." He took a deep breath as he glanced around once more. 

Almost quickly, Jake answered. “No, she should be back at the hut.”

 Neteyam gulped, “She isn’t– nor any of her things are. What do I do?”

“You– you! You let this happen, Jake!” 

After spending hours on scouring the forest for any trace of you, they had finally concluded that you had chosen to leave of your own accord. This was not something that anyone wanted to believe and yet it seemed like the only option left; none of your things were to be seen back at home, or at least those that were valuable to you— your worn-out saddlebag, the wooden bowl that you had carved yourself, weapons. All of it. Soon, eclipse neared and everyone was tired.

Neytiri was quick on her feet. As soon as Jake had returned from the south, she lunged at him – pushing him forcefully with a look he didn’t want to come home to. He attempted to grasp onto both her forearms, wanting desperately to soothe– but, try as he might, she continually knocked away his hands with increasingly greater force. It was like his very touch had burnt her skin; the same hands that held her children. 

“What did you do? What did you say?” Her panicked voice quivered as she asked in desperation. She felt her breath quicken, body absolutely worn out from everything that had happened. Neytiri’s tear-stained face was like a punch to his already battered heart. He had caused this. Jake had finally pushed you away. 

“One thing I asked of you– and this one thing you couldn’t do!” Each word that left her mouth was accompanied by a strike to his chest, not enough to cause any physical pain but enough to emphasize the anger he knew he had been keeping to herself for years. Neytiri was patient with him– understanding. Jake had pushed the limits of what she was capable of doing for him and this was the very consequence.

Shame. Nothing but shame. 

People were watching– warriors that had accompanied him on the search and lingering eyes of the clan, but he couldn’t care less. Jake allowed her to hit him, he let her push him around; it was better for him if she inflicted the pain instead of harboring it. He’d let the people talk for all he cared. He failed as an olo’eyktan and as a father. 

Let everyone know he failed his eldest.

“I did talk to her, please listen to me.” He begged, his pleadings faint. He desperately tried to reach out and grasp Neytiri's arm, yet his hands seemed unable to find the strength to hold her. His voice quivered as he spoke, fragile and hesitant in its delivery.

“Tell me how exactly!” 

And he couldn’t answer that. Not when he made the crucial mistake of not checking the hut beforehand. Maybe if he did, he would’ve known you had run away– maybe he could’ve gotten to you. The fact that you weren’t able to hear his vulnerability was a different heartbreak he refused to acknowledge. You were never there to begin with. 

When Neytiri saw that Jake had nothing to say in response, she was rendered speechless. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she tried to muffle the cry that threatened to escape her throat. She frantically paced around, harshly tugging on her braids. Jake could only close his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat. He stood there, stunned in silence. 

“My daughter, Jake! My daughter is out there with those– those demons scattered! She could be lost– dead! Do you not understand?” 

Dead. You could be dead. Jake refused to close his eyes, hoping he could keep the thought at bay. But it came back again and again, wriggling its way into his mind like a snake. He let his heavy eyelids shut and instantly, he was presented with a vision of you in the dark - his sweet babygirl, lying there lifeless. It would be his fault. The blood would be on his hands.

"Ma, please," Neteyam had spoken, his voice gentle in a bid to soothe his mother. He tried desperately to soften the blows, carefully pulling her away from Jake. It was Neteyam that calmed Neytiri and all he could do was stand and let it happen– what the hell was he doing? How could he fail so miserably? His eldest had to step in and do his job, his pride and joy. 

His gaze drifted across to where his other children were, huddled together on the corner. They looked bewildered at what they were hearing, unsure of what to make of it all. It seized him, squeezing what’s left of its already limp heart. Tuk was nestled in Kiri’s protective embrace, asking her– trying to understand. She asks of you, where have you gone? 

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning and Jake Sully has done the opposite– ushering you to danger. 

“Have we failed them, Jake? Have I been a horrible mother?” Neytiri asked, her voice now barely above a whisper. She tried to be gentle with pushing Neteyam away, attempting to continue nonetheless. Jake placed a firm hand on his son's tense shoulders, and he gave him a subtle tilt of the head. He could see the battle that was raging inside of his young boy's head, between wanting to do what he felt was right and obeying his father's instructions. “Jake what have we done?”

Your mother needs this, his eyes try to tell him, go. Neteyam reluctantly steps back, deciding it was better to return to the others.

“Look for her again. Send out everyone this instant!” She sobs, pounding her fists against Jake’s chest in a desperate attempt to get her point across. Her neck is strained with veins popping out and bulging eyes filled with desperation, pleading him to understand. Each beat of her fists matched the intensity of her wails, no amount of tears ever seeming to be enough. 

Neytiri takes a heavy inhale once more, “I beg of you, Jake Sully. Find our daughter, bring her back home.” 

His gaze finally met hers and the feeling it brought was more than he could bear. He had to make a decision, another choice that would have to let her down again. “We can’t go looking for her now, Neytiri. We are already short on warriors, you know this.” He gently says, as if it was enough to soften the blow– but his eyes saw how her face slowly fell. He could clearly hear the telltale sound of her broken heart, shattering once more.

“I have to ensure everyone’s safety. Warriors are out scouring perimeters and we can’t risk one hold-up. Our family, Neytiri, I cannot risk our family,” 

“She is our daughter!” 

“And I am still olo’eyktan.” He was heartless. He was sure everyone thought so, but he had to be the one to make decisions. His composure was a mask that hid the fact that inside he was breaking apart; that he was failing– that he already had failed. If he let himself break down now, he might as well gamble everyone he loved. 

Jake’s responsibilities weighed down heavily on his shoulders. Everyone was at stake– Quaritch was on the loose. 

Neytiri told him he had a strong heart the moment they had met, but right now, it was stone-cold– shut off and mean. Not the compassionate man she had once saved. “I’m trying, Neytiri. I’ll get her home.” He tries to assure her, but the breathy shudder that left her lips only made him wince. 

He was finally able to wrap his arms around her mate and when he did, it was tight– as if he was trying desperately to piece her back together. He closed his eyes once more, kissing the top of her head. “I promise. She’ll be back, I promise.”

You were out there. Alive. He had a chance. 

Your mama’s crying for you, sweet child, come home. 

“Mawey, Mawey!” 

You found yourself in an unknown area. How you had gotten there, you could not explain. Your ikran, exhausted from the raging storm, needed some respite and so did you for that matter. After all, it would be cruel to deny her this much needed break even if it were just for a night. You only prayed that it’d be peaceful. 

You searched the space for materials needed for fire, but the rain was ruthless and provided no light. You felt a chill as you curled up beneath the shade of the tree. Hugging your knees to your chest you tried to conserve warmth, shivering slightly as a gust of wind blew past. Nothing around you but darkness - no stars, no moonlight, and not even the bioluminescence around provided much warmth. This was it, you thought.

Should I go home instead? Have they even noticed that I’ve gone?

Why couldn't you just stay? Why couldn't you have simply kept it all down inside rather than running away? You had been content enough to stay silent before, content enough to ignore everything; what had been different now? It was home still— who were you kidding?

Thoughts ran unmercifully inside your head as you sat motionless. 

You are never satisfied. 

I miss my mom. 

They deserve the heartache. 

You should’ve listened instead– now look at where you are.

Why couldn’t they love me?

Maybe I should head back. 

Father will be mad.

You wanted this– needed this. You had to prove yourself. There was no use crying over something small, a night had only passed. 

The snapping of leaves and rustling of bushes pulled you abruptly back to reality, your head quickly turning in its direction. You had been lost in thought before the sound startled you; the somber pool of thoughts still eddying in your mind. But there was something else nestled in that pool now, taking up the space– fear. Genuine and terrible, terrible fear. You might never come home ever again. You will never see them again. 

This was it, you thought, something that had been swirling around in the back of your mind since you’ve left now finally felt certain. You gripped your spear tightly in both hands. 

The cry that ripped through the air was deafening, shaking every part of your being. It felt like each syllable ricocheted around your entire body; coursing through your veins and settling in the cavity of your chest. Even the ground seemed to tremble in response, shaking beneath your feet as you tried to keep composure. There was no mistaking it; it was an 'angtsìk— a particularly angry one, at that. 

The loreyu that once surrounded you shriveled in response; coiling up and retracting to the ground, and then was gone completely, leaving you exposed to the hammerhead. 

You were in a desperate situation. It didn't help either that you were unable to make out your surroundings– you were one on one with an 'angtsìk with nothing but a spear and a lousy handgun (that you don’t even know why you brought in the first place. It was small on the palm of your hand, but it was valuable to Jake– this couldn’t damage any animal even if you tried.)

Lifting your bow and arrow and preparing to shoot would be pointless. The threat could be just a moment away; it could pounce on you in the blink of an eye, leaving you as food for its prey before you even have time to process the danger. 

You stood your ground, constantly shifting on your feet as you carefully backed away. You kept your gaze steadily ahead, refusing to break eye contact with the 'angtsìk– but when it roared again in response to your steps, you couldn't help but express your annoyance with a loud kiss of your teeth and an exasperated groan.

You did something that no one in a million years would ever consider or do– you ran straight towards it. 

You stepped forward with your spear raised, shaking it threateningly in front of the strange creature that had been creeping closer. Your movements were frenzied, a frenetic attempt to scare it off and make it retreat back to where it had come from. You could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage as you readied yourself for whatever would come next. All around you, an eerie silence had descended upon the dank forest that seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation– watching both of you. 

As it was poised to launch a counterattack, the creature suddenly halted; its gaze directed toward something past you with an expression of sheer terror, but your mind was too clouded for you to take any hint of the bigger threat skulking just behind you. You could feel the nervousness bubbling up from your chest, but before you knew it, a confident chuckle had escaped your lips that soon turned into fits of laughter, not believing how that foolish move of yours had made the 'angtsìk retreat.

“Yeah? Yeah! That’s right– you better run!”  You yelled, brandishing the spear in your hands and waving it around in triumph. “Get your punk-ass back to mommy, penis-face!” 

As the 'angtsìk disappeared into the distance, you allowed a sigh of relief to escape your lips. "You're not getting any of this, keep running!" You called out after it mockingly, putting your hands on your hips. In spite of this bravado, your heart was pounding and your knees were weak with fear– you were this close to give Eywa an early visit. 

You slowly turned back, that’s when you finally saw it; the force with which the thicket of bushes violently parted around it, the palulukan emerging from behind. It was like all the air had been sucked from your lungs, and a chill ran through your body as a wave of fear engulfed you. Every part of you tensed up, and you could feel your soul being wrenched from within.

You looked at it like a poor deer in headlights, grip momentarily loosening around your spear.

 If death knocked tonight, let it be instant.

NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT ?? ???? finally, after a month! (i am gonna be honest, i am this close to loosing interest in avatar.. jesus. i am holding onto crumbs people) this is so long overdue, but i hope it's good enough!

put so many references here, hope ppl can tell! teehee

not thoroughly edited so please feel free to point of any mistakes! thank you so much for being patient with me, until the next chapter loves! smooch <;3

(i removed tags that didn't work anymore :/ again, i am not taking anymore tags! please leave your notif on instead) tags: @reyalvr @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @lunyyx @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pinkeroppi @mellowdiy @jimfiqs @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ayra2452008 @vodoo-heart @rose-brulante @starxao @bluevenus19 @entertain-my-lvst @wwwellacom @starjane312 @mona-aiko @audigay

[aizawaondrugs]

The Perfect World

Batman is hit with a spell and falls into a coma. He's taken to the batcave where Zatanna projects his dream to look for clues to fix the situation.

It's the perfect, idyllic world.

Dick and his friends are on a blanket all over each other, Jason and his own group of friends right next to them doing the same, the two groups intertwining and mixing. Jason says something and Dick clocks him on the head with the cap of his water bottle.

Barbara, Cass and Steph are with the other sirens. Harley looks like she's never met the joker. Ivy's skin is tanned and healthy, her cheeks are flushed. No green in sight.

Tim and his friends are on a bench and some lawn chairs, talking and laughing. Kon and Bernard are all over Tim, teasing him. Tim is blushing and laughing, looking much healthier and happier than the real one.

Duke and his group of friends from the We Are Robin group gang are running around, pelting each other with water balloons, laughing and shouting. Duke slips, stands up with a muddy shirt and immediately rejoins the war.

Damian is with Jon and some of the younger apprentice heroes their age. He's carefree, obviously happy. Smiles and laughs easily, halfway into Jon's lap to show someone else his drawings.

Martha and Thomas are alive, graying, drinking tea with Alfred and Jim Gordon. Bruce talking with an uninjured Harvey Dent and they're in a closer grouping with Talia and Selina in a looser circle of every one of his children's parents and some of the capes in civilian clothes. They're all alive and well. Happy.

There are younger children running around closer to the adults.

There are blurry faces, some more than others, but it's mostly the dead and unfortunately indisposed and the children never born. Some are just faceless friends for his children to laugh and connect with.

Zatanna cuts the connection and the cave is silent.

Bruce doesn't remember his dream after he wakes up.

They never talk about what they saw. Never tell Bruce.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

False Pretences

19/12: Holly and Hair Pulling - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2k~ | Warnings: hair pulling, fingering, allusions to p in v, ww2 talk and mentions of hitler

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

It was as clear as fog, what her role was here.

Since war had broken out in Europe, listening to whatever dire news filled those who listened with fear and anticipation, all the keywords present to stir up panic in every household, she knew she could not merely stand idly by on the shores of England, and do nothing.

It was either overalls and dirty, grotty factories, or the Women’s Royal Naval Service.

She couldn’t deny herself, one sounded better than the other.

Of course her family had attempted to deter her from leaving England altogether, waving her off from the front step as if she were slinging a gun over her shoulder herself and facing Hitler head on. Her mother sobbed, but she did not miss the gleaming pride in her father’s eyes. Her own brother had already gone off to fight, so he’d be left with no children at home, and yet he did not complain, did not forbid her from going. He knew the honest truth, that she would have found a way anyway, stubborn as she was.

Usually, people like her, or women, more so, were not allowed aboard naval ships. Especially hunt-class destroyers. It was far too dangerous, or rather in their words, unsuitable for female company. God, if her parents knew where she stood right at this moment her mother would surely throw a fit until she was red in the face.

Better for them to not know at all, she reasons, sat at her desk, tapping the end of her pencil against her notepad. It was only temporary, they’d told her, a quick posting to fill an urgent need. But that hardly felt reassuring now, deep in the belly of HMS Keith with the sound of waves pounding against the hull and the faint but ever-present vibration of the engines beneath her feet.

The ship shuddered as it cut through another swell, and she reached out instinctively to steady the pencil rolling across her desk. She could hear the men outside, shouting and belly-laughing, no doubt taking some much needed time off their duties to celebrate what they thought was as close to Christmas cheer as they were likely to get. Who knew if it was even Christmas Day?

Her pencil hovered above paper, listening to the constant hum of static that she had come to know so well. These last few hours were quiet, luckily. She supposed the people of Europe celebrated Christmas too. In fact, she’d wager that most of the enemy were doing the very same thing this crew were doing right now, drinking, laughing and card games. Perhaps they were not so dissimilar after all.

A small knock came at her door, and she considered ignoring it, wondering if she had somehow misheard through her headset. But then it came again, more firm, and she rolled her eyes and stood, straightening her uniform to see who was so insistent on seeing her this late hour.

She raised an eyebrow as a man stood there, tall, leaning confidently against the doorframe as the ship swayed slightly. He was young, perhaps somewhere near her age, if she had to guess. His sandy, blonde hair was pulled from his face, sides shaven and short, as was the style of young men.

“Evening,” he said, his tone so breezy it might have been mistaken for confidence. Overconfidence perhaps. “Thought I’d pop by and spread a bit of cheer.”

She crossed her arms. “Cheer?”

He held up the sprig of green, holly, she realised, though the leaves looked rather battered. He propped it in the middle of the doorway. “You know what they say.”

Her lips twitched, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. “That’s not mistletoe.”

“You’re smarter than I hoped.”

“Smarter than you, evidently.” She raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just checking on our mysterious new arrival,” he said, leaning a little closer as if they were acquainted. “Word travels fast, you know. ‘Unmarked door near the comms room.’ Had to see it for myself.”

She smiled, though she willed herself not to. “And?”

“And here you are. Bit of a shock, I’ll admit. Women on a ship, it’s bad luck, you know.”

She snorted slightly, her cheeks warming in embarrassment at her behaviour. “Didn’t take you to be superstitious. Anyway, shouldn’t you be at your post?”

Tom chuckled, the sound warm and unbothered. “Probably. But this seemed more interesting.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I’m just here to work, same as you.”

“Right. Decoding top-secret messages, I suppose. Life or death stuff, like when Hitler breaks wind or when Goebbels has food poisoning.”

Surprised you know who they even are, she thinks to herself.

She snorted despite herself, quickly masking it with a cough. “Something like that,” she said, turning back toward her desk.

It was her way of dismissing him, but he didn’t take the hint, as men with his confidence rarely did. She busied herself with the papers scattered across her workspace, shuffling them into neat piles that didn’t actually need straightening. She didn’t want to encourage him, but at the same time, she didn’t really want him to go, either.

Behind her, she heard the faint scuff of his boots on the floor. She paused for a moment, a smile rising to her lips when she felt his presence so close behind her. “I do hope you can tell the difference between holly and mistletoe, Mr…?”

“Tom, just Tom,” he answered quietly. “Can’t blame a bloke for wanting a kiss from a pretty girl, can you?”

She turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder, blue eyes almost clear in this low, amber light that felt tighter as time passed. “I suppose it is Christmas, after all, isn’t it?” she smiled.

Tom didn’t wait for a clearer invitation. He stepped closer, his hands brushing her waist as if testing her reaction. When she didn’t pull away, he tilted his head, meeting her halfway. The kiss started soft, tentative, but the heat rose quickly, fuelled by the unspoken urgency of two people who had been too long without touch. Tom cupped her cheek with one hand, the other slipping to her hip.

She turned fully now, her back pressing against the edge of the desk as her hands found their way to his chest. His uniform was coarse beneath her fingers, and she could feel the hard muscle beneath it, the warmth of him seeping through the layers.

She felt the low hum through his chest as he pressed his hips closer, easing her back against the desk, his hand slipping into her hair up the nape of her neck, tightening a fist around her glossy strands as if for leverage to pry her lips open for his access.

She hummed in amusement, prompting him to part with ragged breath, “been around men for too long?”

“Too bloody long,” he confessed, his voice rough as he let out a shaky laugh. 

She smiled, but her eyes looked over as if she were analysing him, her hand sliding from his chest over his belt, her small, soft hand drifting over the evident hardness straining in his uniform trousers.

“I can tell,” she muses quietly.

He let out a shaky exhale, flustered either by her behaviour or slight embarrassment at being so called out for it. But it was clear he wasn't the type of man to like small jokes at his expense, and she let out a breathy whine as his fingers tightened in her hair. Keeping her where she stood, and tilting her face up towards him.

“Are you always like this?” He asked.

“Only to the ones that deserve it.”

He huffed, pulling her up by her hips to set her down on the desk, papers and pencils scattered to the floor under his hasty palm. Her legs parted around his instinctively, letting him step between them, his hands dropping then to her thighs.

His breath was hot on her neck as he placed open-mouthed, nearly desperate kisses there. His hand brushed beneath the hem of her skirt, as if testing the waters, pausing only to pull back to speak.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, though his hand didn't move.

“I wouldn't dare.”

Her breath hitched as her hand drifted higher, teasing the gusset of her knickers, sending a sharp, white spark of pleasure up her spine. Her hands gripped his shoulders, shuddering despite herself, he was certainly in no rush.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice laced with both surprise and satisfaction. “God, I’ve barely touched you.”

Her face burned with embarrassment, but instead of chastising him, she tugged him back to her lips. He groaned, his fingers exploring the growing wetness and heat forming between her legs. For a moment there was no more, not even a ship. Just his long, thick fingers against her heat, wanting more.

“Tell me what you want, love,” he murmured against her lips, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric now, skin against skin.

She shuddered, parting her legs wider for ease of access and wrapping them around his hips, “just don't stop.”

The sound his fingers made as he explored through her wetness was nothing short of lewd, her back arched slightly into him, wanting to feel the girth of them inside her, and quick.

“Christ,” he murmured, almost to himself, as two fingers slipped inside her, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her head fell back slightly. “Tom—” she breathed, her voice breaking.

“That’s it,” he muttered, his tone somewhere between curious and wicked as his fingers curled inside her, finding the spot that made her whole body tense and then melt in the same breath.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan, but he wasn’t having it. His hand moved faster, more confident now, his thumb pressing firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had her hips bucking against him.

“Let them hear you, love,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her jaw as his fingers curled just right inside her. 

Her body trembled, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, a cry spilling from her lips as pleasure surged through her like a tidal wave. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his uniform as her thighs clenched around him, holding him in place as her body shuddered with each wave of her release.

Once it subsided, the feeling of how tight his fist was holding her hair became apparent but not unpleasant. She sighed, the tension leaving her body slowly, easing her into lulling waves of warmth.

He withdrew his hand slowly, his fingers slick and glistening, and stepped back slightly, though the smirk on his face suggested he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the moment.

“Worth the trouble of knocking, I'd say,” he quipped with a wink, infuriatingly wiping the moisture on his fingers against her bare thigh.

She glanced up at him through her lashes, her smile some kind of soft but amused warning. Her hand shot out to his belt, and his eyebrows shot so high to his forehead she was sure he'd seen God for a moment as her hands worked quickly to undo the buckle and then the buttons.

“Christ, love. Didn’t think you’d still have the energy.”

“Maybe next time, bring actual mistletoe,” she said, her voice dry but laced with heat.

“Next time?” he repeated, his grin turning wicked as he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, a full body shudder running through him as she took him into her palm, hard and thick, giving a few languid strokes before sliding her other hand up his neck. 

“Oh, love, you’re going to ruin me.”

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[imfoive]

Crystal Bird - Chapter 2

Crown Prince! Chan x Princess (fem.) Genre: Royal au! Angst, Romance, Historical, hidden identity, slow-burn Warnings: mentions of blood, war, death, cursing, somewhat proofread WC: 6.1k A/N: Still childhood chapter (will be over soon I promise.) Based on a dream. Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The Crown Prince is saved by the Princess of a rival kingdom, and he swears his second life to his savior. A forbidden friendship no one knew of, grows deeper with every secret meeting. As the two are kept apart, memories of their sunset playdates by the serene river, begin blossoming into something beautiful. Cheeks blushed, stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of each other. Years of yearning and imagining had only made them crave a sweeter reunion. And finally meeting at a Royal banquet, he could only stare at the now grown Princess, taken by her beauty, while she only watches as he gives his heart to the wrong princess.

Missed a chapter? - Prologue / Chapter 1

CHAPTER 2 ─────────────────── This was something entirely new for Y/N.

For the first time, The second princess wasn’t slipping away out of curiosity about a spider spinning its web or to sample a trendy new snack she heard about at some tea party. This time, she had someone to meet, a scheduled time to exchange words with another person. She was beyond elated, carefully navigating the corridors of her residence, hoping her mother was engrossed in entertaining her circle of friends or, even better, ventured out to purchase new gowns.

They arrived earlier than agreed upon, both flustered at the sight of each other, but any awkwardness quickly dissolved as they began to converse. True to his word, Chan proudly presented his favorite dessert, something exotic and unfamiliar to Y/N, even though she was accustomed to the luxuries of palace life.

The dessert, native to Nightshade, was a revelation to her palate, and she ate every bite with genuine delight. As Chan watched her savor the sweet treat, he suddenly wondered if the children of Elysium were also warned to keep away from anything associated with Nightshade. Like he had been taught to be wary of Elysium.

    “What do you think of the Bahng Clan, Princess?” Chan asked with both anxiousness and curiosity.

Y/N looks up in wonder, wiping her fingers with her handkerchief.

    “You mean the beastly people?” She asks.

The term has Chan’s heart drop, momentarily lowering his gaze, wondering how she would react if he revealed his true identity.

    “My teacher said that they love violence and bloodshed. But I’ve read in a book that the realm is sandwiched between forest and the snowy mountains? Wouldn't they be practicing intense self defense tactics?” Y/N continued, surprising Chan with her mature perspective.

The young princess, always curious but lacking someone to share her thoughts with, felt a warmth spread through her as Chan listened so intently. He stared at her in amazement, realizing that despite her young age, and her title as princess, Y/N possessed a wisdom and compassion unlike other kids her age.

    “I’m sure they have their own way of life. It’s just different from ours.” She concluded with a gentle smile.

Y/N had no idea how much relief her words brought to Chan, the Nightshade Prince. He was silently grateful that it was she who had rescued him from the river.

And so, one meeting turned into another, and another, until they began to lose count of how many times they had met. The two young royals giggled and devoured each other’s favorite snacks with gusto, forgetting all about the constraints of etiquette in their budding friendship. Each rendezvous brought them closer, sharing secrets, dreams, and aspirations. Like true friends.

While Han kicked rocks a short distance away, he couldn't help but marvel at the unusual sight before him. It was rare to see his Prince enjoying the company of another child, especially one from outside their usual social circle. Normally, Chris would scowl at the children of his father’s court and council. Children who dared to approach him with forced smiles and honey-dripping words. While the young girls of their nation were too intimidated to even make eye contact with him. Han couldn’t understand why—after all, Chris wasn’t even that scary looking.

The aspiring personal guard studied the rocky passageway they had climbed countless times now. It was a narrow path, hidden among overgrown bushes and vines, creating a natural canopy that almost concealed its existence entirely, like a cave almost. One could easily miss it if they were simply passing by. Yet here they were, sneaking past this narrow passage almost daily. Han couldn’t deny that everything about this risky routine scared him senseless. But despite his fears, he always succumbed to the Prince’s pleading gaze, dutifully preparing provisions like bread and snacks for their "walks of fresh air."

Was this what they called loyalty? As they parted ways that evening, arranging to meet again, Chris felt a sense of contentment he hadn’t known before. Whistling a happy tune, he and Han made their way back up the rocky path, the younger boy taking the now-empty sack from him.

    “The princess is much more down-to-earth than I thought.”  Han came to a conclusion after observing, they squeezed past narrow boulders and returned to their side of the forest.

    “She’s also funny.” Chris laughed, recalling the amusing stories Y/N had shared.

Han raised a brow at his master. “When do you plan on returning the necklace?”

Chris stopped in his tracks, groaning. He had completely forgotten about it in the excitement of their meeting today. They hadn’t seen each other since the day after he had presented her with the promised cake for her birthday—four days ago.

    “I’m going to replace the chain. The silver is all mangled from being in your filthy pocket.” Chris shook his head.

    “You’re the one who had it clutched in your fist for dear life!” Han retorted with a scoff, to which Chris rolled his eyes.

    “I’ll return it as soon as I get it to look brand new. He hummed, walking ahead with a bounce in his step. 

    “Now let’s hurry back before dinner.” Meanwhile, in the silence of the dining room of the West Palace in Elysium, the cold tone of Lady Katherine’s voice pierced the tense air.

    “You’ve been missing too many lessons. Let's not make it a habit.” She remarked as she meticulously cut the meat on her plate.

Y/N’s eyes froze at her dinner, her mind racing with worry. Had her mother caught her sneaking under the back wall?

    “Princess Sienna will be traveling to the Melgarde Estate this Autumn to begin prepping for her role as First Princess. I have managed to convince your father to allow you to accompany her this time.”

Y/N’s eyes shot towards her mother, her fists balling up her dress.

    “Must I go mother?” She hesitantly asked, glancing up at Katherine, who paused her knife and fork against the steak to stop working.

    “Such ridiculous questions don’t befit you, the Second Princess of this nation." Her mother replied sharply, throwing a stern glance her way.

    “I have worked very hard to get your father to look at us favorably. Do not ruin it.” The mother continued working her cutlery against her dinner.

    “Besides, you’ve known that one day or another you’d be sent to Melgarde. You too must learn of your royal duties. You are a princess after all...” 

Silence hung heavily between them once again, but Y/N’s appetite had vanished. Just a few weeks ago, she hadn’t cared where she stayed or which estate she roamed, but now, with a friend who didn’t see her as just the Second Princess of Elysium, leaving seemed unbearable. The thought of being separated from Chan, the one who had seen her for who she truly was, weighed heavily on her heart. He had celebrated her birthday with a cake and wishes meant only for her, a gesture that touched her deeply. Her eyes welled tears tears.

Autumn wasn’t even that far off. ─────────────────────── The following meeting of the secret friends had been plenty of joy like the many before. They lounged comfortably, exchanging funny anecdotes and catching up on the gossip they had been eagerly saving up during their brief separation (of just two days). Yet amidst the laughter and stories, Chan couldn’t help but notice a heaviness in Y/N’s demeanor. Her smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes, and it was clear to the observant prince that something was amiss.

    “Are the stories not amusing today, or perhaps the pastries don't suit your taste?” Chan inquired gently, watching as Y/N quickly sat up to deny both concerns.

    “Neither! The pastries are delightful, and the tale of your cousin Felix putting his father in line was genuinely amusing, Chan!” She exclaimed, her attempt to brush off her subdued mood evident.

Chris smiles at the call of the name. Chan. It was a name he hadn’t heard in a long time. A name his mother had given him, a remnant of a time when life felt simpler and less burdened by secrecy and expectation. When the princess used that name, it made him feel oddly liberated—like the mischievous child he once was, running through the hall of the castle, free from the weight of royal responsibilities.

    “There just seems to be something bothering you." Chan remarked, leaning in attentively. He wanted nothing more than to lend an ear and offer comfort.

For a moment, Y/N was silent, her teeth gnawing at her lower lip as she studied Chan with eyes filled with care.

    “My mother is sending me to Melgarde by the end of this summer. I don’t want to go so far away...especially now that I have…you.” She confessed quietly, her voice tinged with melancholy as she dropped her gaze.

Chan blinks a few times, unsure of what or where Melgarde was. Watching her wrestle with her emotions, her fingers fidgeting with the grass, he felt a pang of guilt for hiding his true identity from her—especially since she considered him a close friend.

    “Why do you think your mother is sending you to Melgarde?” He asks, his eyes wandered to look at the now pink and orange sky.

    “I’m to learn about my royal duties. But she refuses to listen to what I feel.” Y/N groaned softly.

Chan had a familiarity with those feelings she was holding back. Duties, responsibilities. Things a Crown Prince must do.

    “Maybe your mother is just looking out for you. A princess like yourself must have many responsibilities in the near future. It's only right for her to do so.” Chan replied, his words betraying his own maturity beyond his years. 

She was the Princess’ mother. Of course she cared for her. Just like his own mother had, always striving for what was best. But Chan didn’t know Lady Katherine, yet he did his best to uplift Y/N’s spirits.

    “Your going away to Melgarde or wherever will not change the fact that we are friends. Will it?" He asked with a soft smile.

Inside, Chan felt a pang of sadness at the idea of Y/N leaving. His efforts to console her masked his own unease about their impending separation.

    “No. We will always be friends.” She grumbled, her fingers idly playing with her dress. “But I’m worried you’re going to forget me."

Chan chuckled softly at such a notion, partly because of Y/N's playful pout, which he couldn't resist teasing by poking her cheek with his finger. She blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden playfulness. He quickly withdrew his hand, sheepishly looking down.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Chan's ears turning red. He reminded her of a puppy. But despite the light moment, Chan's conscience weighed heavily on him, evident in the serious expression that replaced his smile.

    “I must confess something.” Chan's expression was tinged with worry.

Y/N tilted her head, sensing a shift in the atmosphere that left her uneasy.

    “What do you think about the Kingdom of Nightshade? Are you not afraid of its people?” His voice was low, a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

Y/N was taken aback by his sudden questions. Chan seemed unusually interested in the Bahng Clan and the Kingdom of Nightshade—this being the second time he had brought them up.

    “I’ve never met anyone from there. Have you?” She asked, genuinely curious.

Chan nodded slowly, meeting her gaze with a hint of hesitation.

    “How? We’re not allowed to cross over. Did you find a way to—” Y/N's words stopped abruptly as realization dawned on her.

Chan could almost see the pieces clicking into place in her mind. He watched as her expression shifted, brows furrowing in concentration.

    “Are you from Nightshade?” Her voice is tinged with surprise.

Chan wanted to disappear at that moment, regretting having brought up the topic at all. He could have continued the charade. The shock in her eyes was something he hadn’t anticipated.

    “I am.” He whispered finally.

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Chan’s heart raced in his chest, uncertain of what her reaction would be. Would she run away, tell him to stay away? To go back and never return?

    “Are you afraid of me?” He asked tentatively, his vulnerability laid bare before her.

Y/N rested her chin on her hand, deep in thought.

    “So that’s why that dessert was so unfamiliar.” She mumbled to herself, trying to recall if there were any other dropped hints that she had missed.

    “Hmmm,”  she continued, her mind racing. “And that cape! Is it also something worn only in Nightshade?! Thank goodness I haven’t worn it out yet” She sighed, starting to ramble.

Chan blinked, slightly taken aback by her sudden enthusiasm. He hadn’t realized just how curious the Second Princess could be.

    “So…I don’t scare you?” He ventured cautiously.

Furrowing her brows, Y/N looked at him as if he were being ridiculous.

    “You were moments away from being swept away by the river, and trembling like a leaf the first time we met, Chan. It was far from scary.”

A small snicker came from the bushes where Han was hiding. His voice, though loud in the otherwise quiet exchange, broke the tension.

    “See, even Han agrees.” Y/N teased lightly.

Chan shot a glare towards Han’s designated hiding bush, the younger boy immediately falling silent and attempting to sneak further away.

    “I once thought you were just some very sickly noble child not allowed to attend gatherings, only sneaking out with his servant boy for solace. But it makes sense that you’re from a whole different kingdom. Now that I think about it, some of the stories you’ve told…” Y/N trailed off, lost in thought.

    “You’re taking this very well. I was afraid for no reason.” Chan interjected, cutting off her train of thought before she could delve deeper.

He couldn't begin to express how relieved he felt.

Y/N laughed, sitting up and playfully tugging at the sleeve of his shirt.

    “Aren’t we friends?” She asked with a warm smile.

Her words made Chan smile, his ears flushing red once more. Taking a deep breath, he looked out over the expanse of the Grand Forest, the sun beginning its descent.

    “The closest of friends." He whispered watching her sweet smile.

The older boy takes in a deep breath of the spring breeze, eyes taking in the beautiful scenery of this Grand Forest.

    “Watch, there will come a day when we can meet freely. No sneaking over borders, or jumping in rivers.” His smile was hopeful, but Y/N seemed hesitant.

    “I wish it came before summer ended…” Y/N said sadly, but then shook it off, determination replacing the sorrow on her lips.

    “Let’s meet again after my return from Melgarde. It may take some time, and I’m not sure how much will change. But I promise I will not forget.”

A bittersweet feeling settled in Chan’s heart as he gently cupped her hands with his own, giving them a squeeze.

    “I won’t be able to send you letters, but let’s spend every day until you leave, together. I too promise to think of you every day until our reunion, my one and only lady friend.” He grinned, his dimples showing.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they prepared to say their farewells. Y/N then handed him a small wrapped stack of cookies

    “Let’s meet again in three days. My mother has been keeping a close eye on me lately, so I’ll have to hold back on slipping out.” She said, pushing the cookies into his arms.

    “And this is for Han. I feel sorry that he’s been playing with sticks and stones back there all this time.”

Chan begrudgingly accepted the cookies, promising to pass them along to his friend. Though their playdate had run longer than usual, the prince felt elated. The burden of secrecy was no longer weighing him down now that the truth was out there.

The sun dipped lower, casting elongated shadows across the palace grounds as Han and Chris dashed through the fading light. Han's laughter echoed in the quietening air, mingling with the rustling of leaves as they finally made their way back.

Han’s voice, light and carefree, carried the teasing remark about Chris not revealing his princely status to the princess. It was meant in jest, but Chris's reaction was anything but amused.

    “I would have but what if that’s the reason she pushes me away?” Chris's voice held a hint of uncertainty, his steps faltering as he glanced back at Han.

Han chuckled, his amusement not subsiding. “I doubt it would be, Prince Shivering Leaf.”

Chris sighed, the corners of his lips twitching as he realized Han was right—his apprehensions were likely just his overthinking. Yet before the conversation could settle, his mind tracks back to the “shivering leaf” comment, and he looks at an nonchalant Han now walking ahead. He smiled and muttered a playful command.

    “You better start running.”

The command caught Han off guard, and with a surprised yelp, he hastily stuffed the remaining cookies into his vest pocket and bolted. Chris pursued him with determination, their laughter carrying through the grounds, unaware of how quickly dusk was settling around them.

Han glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. But in that split-second distraction, he collided headlong into what felt like a pole, causing him to crumple to the ground with a sharp “oof”. Chris, caught off guard by Han's sudden fall, skidded to a halt a few steps behind, concerned.

Once he realized that it was not a pole, the younger boy scrambled to his feet, head bowed in an instinctual bow.

    “T-teacher.” He greeted tentatively, his lips tightening in an attempt to hide his shock.

Captain Elliot approached, eyes glanced towards the unexpected direction the boys emerged from before his stern gaze assessed the situation in front. 

    “I’ve been searching for the two of you.” He stated, his voice holding a note of reproach.

Chris hurriedly stepped forward, attempting to explain their escapades. 

    “We-we’re just here and there, practicing and rough-housing, Uncl-teacher.” He stammered, trying to downplay their mischief.

Sir Elliot observed them both, his gaze flickering between Chris and Han. Though aware that they had been up to something, he found solace in the fact that seemed to be getting along, and neither appeared injured or worse for wear. 

His tone softened slightly as he remarked, “As long as you’re not doing anything wrong.”

The relief was palpable as both boys straightened, the tension easing from their shoulders. Perhaps Sir Elliot had his suspicions, but for now, they were spared further scrutiny. With a paternal caution, he added, 

    “Don’t wander off too far. It’s beginning to get darker much quicker these days.”

With a nod of dismissal, Sir Elliot turned to continue on his way, leaving the boys to exhale in unison in relief. Chris reached out, gently tugging at Han's arm to rouse him from his momentarily frozen stance.

As they resumed their path towards the palace, the captain paused, his eyes catching sight of something out of place on the ground—a stray…cookie? Picking it up, he narrowed his gaze, then turned to glance back at the retreating figures of the two boys, now engaged in animated conversation as they walked away. The burly king tapped at the wood of his desk, the page of the letter he had received splayed over countless other stacks of paper. His brow furrowed as he absorbed the implications of its contents, his thoughts racing through the strategic decisions ahead.

A knock at the door broke his concentration, followed by the creak of the aged hinges as Elliot entered the room. The captain’s presence brought a sense of grounded reassurance amidst the king’s tumultuous thoughts.

    “You called for me, brother?” Sir Elliot’s gaze was steady, assessing the king’s grim expression as he approached the desk.

Without a word, the king picked up the creased letter and handed it to his younger brother. As Elliot’s eyes scanned the hastily written words, a deep sigh escaped the king’s lips, betraying the weight of his concerns.

A letter from the North.

    “The next warband for the Midnight Order has commenced their training and are ready to swear allegiance to their Master.” The king explained wearily, his voice laced with unease.

Sir Elliot absorbed the information with a furrowed brow, understanding the gravity of Commander Seo’s expectations through his letter. The Seo family’s longstanding stewardship of the kingdom’s military affairs meant that any delay in Prince Christopher’s training was not merely a matter of protocol but a strategic imperative for the nation’s defense. 

The Midnight Order of Nightshade was legendary—an elite, secretive cadre of warriors renowned for their unswerving loyalty and unmatched fighting skills. Trained rigorously under the harshest conditions, they swore allegiance solely to the kings of Nightshade. Operating covertly, as the king’s shadow, they remained unseen and silent, protectors in the dark. Their missions and actions were shrouded in secrecy, acting as the king’s eyes where his presence couldn’t extend. The moment had arrived for Chris to meet his order—his people, the next generation of warriors destined to protect the future king.

    “We have delayed sending Prince Christopher to the North for far too long.” Elliot’s voice broke the silence between the two men, resonating with the weight of responsibility. 

    “Commander Seo has shown patience due to the Prince's mourning period, but we cannot afford further delays. You know how crucial this matter is to him.”

The captain’s words were nothing but honest. He could tell that his brother, the wise and dignified king, who would never falter when it came to the best of his nation, was a weak father. Much like himself. Except Felix is not the Crown Prince. He will not take the throne and rule over as a successful king. Christopher had great responsibilities, and he needed to fulfill them. Sir Elliot understood the delicate balance between honoring the late Queen’s wishes and preparing the Prince for his future role. And The King’s decision carried implications that extended beyond familial concerns to the very stability of the kingdom.

    “The late Queen’s wishes allowed the Prince considerable freedom, against all advice.” Sir Elliot remarked gently, meeting his brother's gaze with understanding. 

    “But a year and some time of mourning has passed, and Prince Christopher must move forward. The longer we delay, the more vulnerable he becomes as Crown Prince.”

The king fell silent, his eyes fixed on the letter in Sir Elliot’s hands. He was painfully aware of what the obvious decision should be, but thinking about his only son, tugged at his heart

    “Let us delay a little further.” The King finally conceded with a sigh.         “I fear pressing him now may embitter him.”

    “Knowing the Prince, he will not go quietly.” Sir Elliot agreed with a defeated laugh. 

    “But, he has shown unexpected cooperation as of late. My only concern is his frequent ventures outside of the palace gates.” Elliot recalled the encounter earlier outside.

    “Indeed, quite worrisome.” King Bahng mused, his thoughts drifting to the unpredictable nature of his son’s recent behavior.

    “And what of his training partner?” King Bahng inquired.

    “The Prince wishes to assign him as his personal guard.” Elliot explained, a faint smile touching his lips.

The king chuckled softly at the revelation.

    “A very princely gesture indeed. But he has a long journey ahead to truly find and understand his people.”

The mention of the training partner stirred memories within the king.

    “When I saw him that day, carrying the Prince back, soaked through and on the verge of tears, I knew then that he would pledge his loyalty to the Crown Prince.” the king reminisced, a glimmer of pride in his eyes.

Sir Elliot nodded knowingly, both men contemplated the future that lay ahead for the Crown Prince and the challenges that awaited him on his path to kingship. Yet even amidst the weighty discussions of state, the recent antics of the two young boys had not escaped the King’s notice. ─────────────────────── The changing seasons brought with them a shift in the air, heralding the arrival of cooler winds from the north that swept through the shared region of the two realms. With these winds came more frequent rain showers, disrupting the almost daily reunions of the two royal friends.

    “Do you think the rain will stop tomorrow?” Chris queried, his hand extended to feel the drops falling outside the library window.

He was supposed to be concentrating on memorizing a book assigned to him, but the young prince was brimming with anticipation. He had finally repaired the necklace’s chain, and the crystal bird now hung more polished than ever. He couldn’t wait to see the expression on the princess’ face when he gave it to her.

Han sighed, observing his prince repeatedly pulling the small box out of his pocket, as if it had transformed in the ten minutes he hadn’t been staring at it.

    “I’m not sure about the rain, but you promised to meet her no matter the weather.” Han reminded him.

Chris emitted a thoughtful “hmm”, his gaze still fixed on the jewelry. The playmate slipped into the seat beside him, also inspecting the delicate piece.

    “It really is quite beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Han remarked.

    “Who does it belong to?” A third voice suddenly interjected with wonder.

    “The Princess, you already know—” Chris started to explain before catching himself, halting mid-sentence as he and Han turned to see Felix leaning in to get a closer look at the necklace.

The boys share a look, surprised by Felix’s unexpected presence. Felix glanced between the two older boys curiously.

    “Who’s the Princess?”

    “F-Felix. What are you doing here?” Chris stammered, while Han did what he does best in these situations.

He froze.

    “It’s raining, so I came to hideout here from lessons.” Felix replied matter-of-factly, then pointed at the crystal bird. 

    “Is the Princess the person who you’ve been sneaking out to see?”

Han’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he anxiously awaited Chris’s response. But the Crown Prince’s mind goes blank, unable to come up with an excuse.

    “Please don’t tell anyone…” Chris pleaded instead, quickly closing the box containing the necklace.

The smaller prince shrugged nonchalantly, taking a seat on one of the benches behind them. 

    “It’s been quite some time since I figured it out. You’re not very good at keeping secrets.” He remarked, displaying a sharpness that his father had always taken pride in.

    “Is she really a princess, or do you just call her that?” Felix inquired, genuinely curious.

The young boy had never met a princess before, their kingdom seemed to lack them. 

Chris smiled fondly, recalling his dear friend. “She is.”

Felix's eyes lit up with excitement at the confirmation.

    “Really! What's her name?" He asked eagerly, hungering for tales of foreign royalty.

Chris blinked, a realization dawning on him—he didn’t know her name.

    “You never asked!?” Han exclaimed, astonished at his friend’s oversight.

Felix sat there, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as he observed the exchange between a mortified Chris and a shocked Han. 

The young prince had always been enthusiastic about meeting his “Princess,” but now it dawned on him that he had never actually asked her name. He felt a pang of guilt and self-reproach—how!? How could he have overlooked something so basic? The princess had asked for his name, so why hadn't he reciprocated?

Han, who had lost count of how many exasperated sighs he had let out that morning because of Chris, sighed once more.

    “When you meet her again, please ask her name.” Han implored, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and concern. 

He knew how important she was to Chris and his mistake was probably going to weigh on his mind.

Chris nodded earnestly, feeling frustrated by his foolishness.

    “I will. I promise.” He replied earnestly.

And as the three boys left the library, the rain continued to patter softly against the now closed windows, a reminder of the barriers they would have to overcome to see each other again. But Chris was determined, more than ever, to learn his princess’ name and to show her the respect and friendship she deserved before she departed to Melgarde.

But as fate would have it, not everything would go according to his plan.

Chris grunted at the sight of the dark clouds gathering overhead, the sound of raindrops drumming steadily against the windowpane. He had awoken that morning with a sense of excitement, eager for his secret meeting with the princess. However, after enduring his lessons and searching the training grounds in vain for Han, who seemed to have disappeared, Chris's mood began to sour. It had been hours since he last saw his loyal friend. He had never realized just how much he relied on Han until now. Han orchestrated their excuses, ensuring their timely exits from the castle grounds, and always kept an eye out even in the forest. Without Han, Chris felt vulnerable and exposed, a sensation he hadn't experienced in their many adventures together. Han was more than just a friend at this point. He was a trusted confidant, and a guardian of their shared secrets.

Upon questioning another young trainer, Chris learned that Han was running an errand for Captain Elliot. The news added to Chris's frustration, on top of the relentless rain that threatened to ruin his plans.

Despite his best efforts to remain optimistic, Chris couldn't shake the growing anxiety as the time for his meeting with his princess approached. With a heavy sigh, Chris retrieved the box containing the polished crystal bird necklace from his bedside table. His loyal playmate had not returned from his task, and Chris was sure the princess was already waiting for him. She had always been one to arrive early.

Today, Chris decided, would be the day he ventured out alone.

A mistake on the young prince’s part.

As he approached the secret passage through the forest, his footsteps squelching on the rain-soaked ground, his heart sank at the sight before him. The entrance to the passage was completely obstructed, large boulders strategically placed to seal it shut. There was no way for him to squeeze through or move the rocks at all. Panic gripped his chest as he realized the gravity of the situation.

    “Prince Christopher.” King Bahng's voice rang out, firm and disapproving even in the downpour.

Chris froze, dread knotting in his stomach as he turned to face his father, standing with Captain Elliot and his Solar guards, the castle's elite protectors. 

Wet and shivering, Chris knew he was finally exposed, unmistakably caught. The steady drip of rain against the wooden floor of the king's study filled the chamber with a somber rhythm, punctuating the tense silence between father and son. Chris stood before his father, head bowed in shame, fully aware of the gravity of his actions. His duties as Crown Prince had been clear, yet he had failed in his responsibility to disclose the discovery of a hidden passage that posed a potential threat to Nightshade's security.

His father's loyalty to honoring peace agreements was unwavering, but could he say the same about the fickle Elysium King? Should they have discovered the crack between the two realms first…

    “You have broken my trust.” King Bahng's voice cut through the silence, cold and unforgiving, causing Chris, wet and shivering, to flinch.

Chris struggled to find words, his mouth dry with regret. He usually excelled at making excuses, but his mind raced with regret and the realization of the consequences of his actions. He had risked the stability of their kingdom.

    “Not only have you disregarded your duties as Crown Prince, but you have endangered Nightshade with your reckless adventures beyond our borders.” The king continued, exhaling deeply and closing his eyes in disappointment. 

    “There will be consequences. Firstly, your companion, your accomplice in this reckless act, will be sent away”

Chris' head snapped up at his father's words, panic and sorrow flooding his expression. He thought of Han, his friend, his loyal training partner, who had always dreamed of becoming a warrior and proving himself. And now, because of Chris, Han’s dreams were going to shatter             “Please, Father...” Chris pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. 

    “I will accept any punishment you deem fit. But Han... He was only following my lead. Punish me, but spare him.” He implored, falling to his knees, overwhelmed by guilt and desperation

King Bahng turned away, his gaze fixed on the rain-streaked window where the setting sun cast a melancholy glow. The sight of his son on his knees was a painful one, both as a father and as a king. But after a moment of silence, King Bahng turns slowly, seeing the sight he did not enjoy. Yet the urgency in the boy’s blood-red eyes spoke volumes. He was almost impressed at what lengths the Prince was willing to go for his people.

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder.

    “You will be sent to the White Mountains of the North, kept under the strict supervision of Commander Seo.” He declared, his voice leaving no room for argument. 

    “There will be no special treatment because you are a prince. You will undergo rigorous training and learn the responsibilities that come with your position. It is time you understand the gravity of your role.”

His father's gaze softened slightly. 

    “Your companion Han, will accompany you. You have started this together, so you will receive your punishment together.” King Bahng added, acknowledging his son's plea.

King Bahng turned to the rain-streaked window once again. The cold silence returned.

    “You will leave tomorrow.” He stated firmly, his eyes fixed on the horizon .

    “Yes your Majesty.” Chris whispered, bowing his head. ─────────────────────── As summer drew to an end, the looming departure of the first princess to Melgarde Estate became inevitable, the departure date set, weighing heavily on Y/N's heart. The news had imposed a sudden deadline on her time with Chan, leaving her in tears several times as she grappled with the uncertainty of their future. She wondered if Chan would share the same sadness, if he would shed tears like she did. His comforting presence, his reassuring hand squeezes, had always been a source of solace for her. They hadn't seen each other in days, and with each passing day, her yearning for her friend intensified.

Standing at their usual meeting spot amidst the Grand Forest, Y/N tried to hold onto hope despite the relentless downpour and the roar of the river nearby. Perhaps the rain had delayed Chan? They had made a promise, and he was determined to keep it.

But as the first hour slipped by without any sign of Chan, worry crept in. Should she go look for him? Fear gripped her, imagining the dangers of venturing out alone in the eerie forest towards a direction she was not familiar with.

Another hour passed, the forest now slowly cloaking in darkness as the sky dimmed. Panic set in as realization dawned—Chan was not coming. Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes once more, mixing with the raindrops on her cheeks. The weight of their separation and the uncertainty of when, or if, they would see each other again bore down on her, casting a shadow over their unfulfilled promise.

Alone in the fading light of day, Y/N's heart ached with longing for Chan, wishing desperately for his comforting presence amid the looming departure that threatened to tear them apart. But Chan had not come as he promised.

And just like that summer came to an end. The Grand Forest underwent a noticeable transformation. Once a vibrant destination for picnics and joyful gatherings, its charm had faded following the tragic incident involving the first princess. The forest, once alive with the laughter and footsteps of visitors, now settled into a solemn quietude.

After Y/N and Chan's last secret meeting, their shared laughter and excitement seemed to disappear along with the warm breeze of the summer. The forest paths they once frequented became untouched and overgrown, as if nature itself respected the absence of their presence.

The end of that summer marked more than just a change in weather, it symbolized a shift in the forest's ambiance. A transition from bustling activity to a serene stillness tinged with melancholy.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued. ── ask to be tagged! - @stayceebs97, @palindrome969, @tsunderelino, @solandiszale, @fixation-dump,

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 4

Any Viking/Norse words and customs were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way?

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

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Y/N and Bucky learned more about their now shared power together as the months went on.  She was able to teach him what she already knew, and with the help of Winnifred and the other Seer woman who married them, Wanda, they were able to learn how to use their powers more effectively.  They were moved into their own longhouse, where Y/N got into the swing of being a wife.  Since she had lived the privileged life of a princess she was not used to cooking or taking care of a house on her own, but had immense help from her neighbors and Bucky.  She practiced their language and was coming along with it nicely, although she had trouble with some words and phrases.  Bucky also taught her how to use a sword and a bow and arrow, both for fighting and for hunting.  

She killed her first deer within a few months of learning and was able to skin and prepare it all on her own.  Bucky was extremely proud of her for working so hard to become accustomed to this new life.  Y/N was quick to make friends and get along well with the people.  She was a born diplomat, and he caught himself smiling while watching her constantly.  

The next winter was fast approaching.  The village had been able to stock up on meats and other foods for the cold, but the season came raging in without warning.  The snow seemed constant, temperatures dropping to levels unseen in decades, freezing the water and making it hard to travel with hardened snow and ice everywhere.  Bigger animals were becoming more desperate for food as the weeks went on, with wolf prints getting increasingly closer to the village.

Y/N was helping one of her neighbors, Laura Barton, bring in some kindling and wood that they chopped up.  Laura had three children, all of them under the age of 10, rowdy, rambunctious and forgetful.  She and her husband Clint tried their best but were outnumbered.  As they finished near nightfall Y/N turned back to the wooded area where they had been and saw the youngest, Nathaniel, toddling back towards their longhouse holding a big stick.  Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw a large, black wolf less than 50 yards away from Nathaniel, the hairs on its back standing and its teeth bared.

“NO!” Y/N took off towards Nathaniel without a second thought.  Laura looked towards Y/N and started screaming when she saw the wolf.  Clint and Bucky, who weren’t far off, heard the screams and came running towards the commotion.  When Bucky saw what Y/N was doing he roared, trying to catch up and run after her.

The wolf started running towards Nathaniel, a menacing growl ripping through the air as it hunted.  Nathaniel looked back and saw the wolf, then started running towards Y/N.  She reached him first, grabbing him and throwing him backwards into a snowbank.  As she faced the wolf she unsheathed the sword Bucky gave her that she had on her hip at all times.  The wolf sped up, undeterred that the easier prey was gone.  She ran towards the wolf, raising the sword and screaming.  Bucky was running but knew he wasn’t going to make it.  “Y/N!  Don’t!”

The wolf leaped at her, the loud bark and her screaming mixing in a horrific ring as they collided.  Bucky couldn't see what happened as the wolf and Y/N fell to the ground, a flurry of fur, her dress and the snow picking up around them.  He bounded up to them, sword drawn, but slowed when he saw the wolf on top of her lifeless.  Her sword was sticking up through its neck, keeping it lifted.

“Y/N?  My star, please,” Bucky cried as he fell to his knees next to the wolf.  “Please,” he said as he tried to look under the wolf’s body.  There was a long pause, then he heard a sputtering sound, her leg poking out from underneath it and trying to push the body off of her.  “Oh, thank the Gods,” Bucky sighed as he stood up and pulled the wolf’s body up off her sword and pushed it away.  It thudded onto the snow, its blood seeping into the white, as Y/N panted next to it.  She was covered in its blood, spitting it out of her mouth as she struggled to sit up since it crushed her deep into the snow.  “You scared the shit out of me, Y/N,” he pulled her up to her feet then grabbed her shoulders.  He shook her, “What were you thinking?!” he yelled, his eyes overflowing with tears.  “You could have died!  What would I have done without you, Asynja?” 

Y/N stared at him as she tried to regain her breath.  She looked at the wolf, a bewildered look on her face, then wiped the blood away from her mouth and eyes as she looked behind Bucky.  Laura was holding Nathaniel, kneeling in the snow crying as Clint prayed to the sky next to them.  “I…I couldn’t just watch him die,” Y/N breathed, her eyes finding him again.  Bucky shook his head then pulled her into his embrace.  He shook as he pet her hair, hugging her too tight and kissing the top of her head.  

“You crazy woman,” he sighed as he pulled back.  He looked down at the wolf.  “You just survived your first battle.  My little Valkyrie,” he smirked at her.  

Y/N snorted at him.  Bucky pulled the wolf by its leg with his metal hand and wound his flesh arm around her, guiding her back to the village.  By this point a crowd had gathered and seen the aftermath of what had happened.  Laura ran up to Y/N, still holding Nathaniel.  “Thank you, Drottning!” she cried, hugging Y/N with one arm and kissing her forehead.  Y/N checked on Nathaniel, who was crying but overall physically unharmed.  Winnifred came forward from the crowd and raised her hands towards the sky.  

“Our warrior queen!” she shouted, and the people behind her cheered.  Y/N ducked her head, feeling overwhelmed by the attention and still reeling from the near death experience.  “You have done well, my child,” Winnifred walked over to them.  “We will have it skinned and its body used as your adornment.  Then you are ready to receive your first marking.”

“Marking?” Y/N asked.

“Like mine,” Bucky reminded her.  

Y/N nodded, still in a daze.  “Will it hurt?”

“Probably,” Bucky tightened his hold on her.  “But you just survived a wolf, I think you can handle a sharp point.”

Y/N sighed heavily.  “I just need to wash,” she quietly whined so only he could hear.

Bucky gave her a knowing smile and nodded.  He let his mother and a few others take the wolf’s body and led her through the people to their longhouse.  As he prepared some water over the fire to warm up for the bath Y/N was outside using snow to get as much of the blood off as possible.  Her hands shook, both from the cold and from the shock.  She hadn’t even thought through what she was doing when she saw the wolf hunting Nathaniel.  She knew it was dangerous, had maybe a flash of a moment of self-preservation, but her feet had moved faster than her mind.  She walked back into the longhouse once she got most of it off then stripped out of her clothes as Bucky filled the bath with warm water.

He helped her ease into the water and reached for the washing bar.  He helped lather her, cleaning her body and her hair, making sure to help her get any remaining blood off.  The warm water helped her muscles ease and she felt like she could breathe normally again.  As Bucky washed her back she brought her legs up to her chest.  Her body shook with sobs as the events unfolded in her mind, replaying the fear over and over, the feeling of the wolf’s heavy body tackling her, the screams, the growling, but most of all, the feeling of rage that licked through her veins as she had run towards the wolf.  She had scared herself in that moment, not knowing what had come over her.

“My Asynja,” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her back.  “It’s alright.  The first battle is always the hardest to recover from.”

“I wasn’t scared of the wolf,” Y/N whispered.  Bucky moved so he could look at her.  “I was scared of me,” she looked at him.  “The…anger, I felt.  The rage.  It was blinding.  Overpowering.  I didn’t…recognize myself,” she sniffled as her hold tightened around her legs.

“Hm, the berserker,” Bucky nodded.  “You really are learning our ways quickly.”  His metal fingers caressed her arm.  “It’s something I’ve only ever felt a few times.  It is…like a trance.  I didn’t feel like myself for a while,” he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.  “But you used it to save someone and protect your people.  Just for that you’ll be welcomed into the halls of Valhalla, as the Valkyrie, the shield maiden, that you are.”  His eyes became sad again.  “But…I can’t lose you my Drottning,” he said quietly.

Y/N watched him.  They had been married for almost a year now, had shared their bodies with each other frequently, and became good friends.  Love had never crossed Y/N’s mind growing up because as nice as that would be, it was rare when she knew she would be married off to a man she didn’t get to choose for the sake of an advantageous match, or like in this case, a kind of peace treaty.  Love was few and far between for arranged marriages.  But she had been feeling something blooming between them, even from their first meeting when he had recognized her as the one with real power.  It was deeper, encompassing, and after her power had been shared with him, at times it felt like she could feel him in her mind, even when he wasn’t nearby.  

She reached a hand out and cupped his cheek.  He nuzzled her palm, his eyes closing at her touch.  Her power slipped into his mind.  His thoughts were replaying the wolf attacking her, his fear and worry etched into the lines of his face.  What surprised her was the deep despair she felt from him when he thought she was dead, the sound of his cry resounding in her head.  

“Bucky,” she breathed.  Her fingers scratched his beard softly as he met her gaze.  “I love you.”

Bucky froze, his eyes widened and his breathing stopped.  Y/N waited for him to process.  His eyes fluttered shut and he suddenly grabbed her and hauled her out of the tub.  She yelped as he carried her over to their bed.  He sat her on the edge of the bed, dripping all over the furs and blankets, looking at him questioningly.

He kneeled in front of her and lifted up her feet.  He kissed the top of each foot before kissing a line up one leg and then the other.  His hands softly skimmed her skin following his lips as he traveled up her body.  He reached her hands and kissed the tip of each finger, something he did often as a display of affection and respect for her power. By the time he reached her neck she was panting, her hands clenching the wooden frame of the bed.  “To be loved by a goddess,” he whispered against her neck, “is one of the highest honors I could only ever hope to achieve.”

“I’m not a goddess, Bucky,” Y/N said as he kissed her jaw.

“You are, daughter of Freya,” he kissed her cheeks.  “My Drottning,” he kissed her nose, “my Asynja,” he kissed her forehead, “Astrid, my star,” he tipped her head down to kiss the top of her head.  He skimmed his lips back down to the corner of her mouth.  “My love,” he whispered, his eyes looking between hers.  “I love you.”

Y/N rushed forward and kissed him.  He returned it passionately as he pushed her back onto the bed.  He quickly rid himself of his clothes as he crawled on top of her.  As much as they had been together before, none of it seemed to compare to this time.  The love encircling them was making it feel like this was fated from the beginning of time.  Bucky made love to her over and over, holding off his own pleasure until he had her begging for him to fill her. 

For the first time Y/N found herself on top of him, gripping his shoulders as she rolled her hips on him.  “That’s right, my love, take what you need,” Bucky groaned.  

“Buck…” Y/N whined, her pace staggered as he reached even deeper.  He flicked her little spot with his metal thumb, the cool metal against her heated core making her see stars.  “You were made to be inside me…”

“Gods yes,” Bucky held her hips tightly as he thrust upwards into her.  Y/N shuddered.  

“My sun, my moon and stars,” she leaned down and kissed his chest as he kept thrusting into her.  His eyes rolled in his head as the pleasure was rapidly becoming too much.  “You were destined for me, and I for you,” she gasped.  Her fingertips started glowing green as her hands were keeping her upright on his chest.  Bucky’s flesh hand started to glow as well as his thrusts hurried.  “My love, my life…” 

With a few more quick flicks to her spot Y/N was cumming, her body shaking over him as her pussy squeezed him, a low whine passing her lips.  Bucky groaned, his back arching as he finished and filled her.  There was a low rumble from the earth underneath them, the wind whipping what sounded like a cheer through the longhouse.  Y/N felt a strange tingling sensation inside her as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside her and looked down.  A light glow was shining at the bottom of her stomach.  She stiffened as she looked at it.  Bucky followed her eye line and saw it before it vanished, his eyes widening.  They looked back at each other.

”Do you think—“ Bucky started.

”Maybe,” Y/N whispered.

Bucky laughed, his hands squeezing her hips lightly.  He rolled over so she was laying on her back with him still inside her.  He started kissing her all over her face.  “My wife, my love, carrying my baby,” he said breathlessly.

”We don’t know for sure, love,” Y/N giggled as he continued kissing down her jaw and her neck.

”My baby,” Bucky’s metal hand slid down to her stomach, resting where he was deep inside her.  He smiled, his eyes meeting hers.  

Y/N smiled back at him, knowing he was probably right.  “Our child.”

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

One more chapter after this!

@wintrsoldrluvr

[syndrossi]

I love the idea of the twins born earlier with Jon becoming Viserys's heir and betrothed to Rhaenyra - in that situation, I can see Rhaegar being betrothed to Laena, and Rhaegar and Jon vowing that their children will marry each other. But in that case, if Aemma still dies and Viserys still remarries Alicent, and has Aegon, would there be another Dance of the Dragons? Cause a son comes before a nephew/brother, by all the laws - but also a daughter comes before an uncle, and Jaehaerys still named Baelon heir, so maybe the rule is just 'the King can choose his own heir', which makes sense as the King is an absolute monarch. And people would look at Aegon, either a child while Jon is grown, or a drunken whoremonger rapist while Jon is a war hero and the greatest swordsman alive and rides Vermithor and probably has children with Rhaenyra by then, and go - yeah, we're following Jon.

Also, I love the idea of Baelon getting to hold his twin grandsons and take them up on Vhagar! Also, since this is not a reverberate AU, and so Daemon doesn't know their names, what are the best he names Jon Baelon, and Rhaegar Aemon?

Also, what's your timeline for Resonant, and how is it different from both F&B and HOTD?

I don't know if it's strictly true that a daughter comes before the king's brother, at least for the Crown. Daemon was Viserys's heir despite Rhaenyra's existence until Viserys explicitly broke with tradition and named Rhaenyra his heir. Though I expect it was broadly true that daughters come before a lord's brother+nephews. Heck, the Great Council heard all kinds of claims, so clearly, standard male-preference primogeniture wasn't in play.

A few things I could see happen, since Jon and Rhaegar would be around 6 after Baelon's death:

If the boys are thought to be TPTWP by Jaehaerys, he explicitly names Daemon his heir, passing over Viserys, which many lords could see as wise anyway, given Viserys's and Aemma's struggles to have a son, and Viserys's only child is betrothed to the likely future king anyway. The Great Council never occurs.

If the boys' nature is unknown and Viserys is named heir by the Great Council, once he later comes to learn of their prophecy vibes, Viserys himself may very well stop trying to have children and Aemma lives. Daemon is named Viserys's heir.

#2 but Aemma dies later, either of an unplanned pregnancy or illness. Viserys is smart and doesn't want to complicate the inheritance puzzle, so he doesn't remarry.

#3 but Viserys thinks with his other brain and marries Alicent. Assuming the king has absolute power to name his heir, he's not going to change that just because he has sons now. Otto still schemes, but as you said, Jon will be having children much earlier than Aegon with Rhaenyra, and THOSE children will have dragons (as will Rhaegar's and Laena's). Otto's in a tough position, especially with Jon's popularity, and because lol patriarchy, Rhaenyra is also very popular since she's not in line for the throne but is gracious and beautiful and doesn't have the bastardry rumors blackening her rep. You can also bet Rhaegar has been using this time to build alllll the alliances with houses that would have aligned with the Greens originally

On the subject of Resonant's timeline, the TL;DR is that Rhaenyra's partway between HOTD and F&B in age and did have a friendship with Alicent. Since she's older, her sons are born about three years earlier than in F&B canon, putting them closer in age to Aegon and Aemond. I generally use F&B dates, but shifted as needed to account for Rhaenyra's differing age. And Rhea dies a year later than in canon.

Resonant itself takes place in 116AC, and it is currently the 12th day of the 8th moon.

[f0rlorn]

flicker in the dark → coral

coral!tbosas x reader

notes → in which you meet the tribute you will be mentoring, and she turns out to be something you never would’ve expected. feminine intended reader though i do not know if pronouns are brought up.

warnings → y’all, she is so over the top ooc… (i molded her character after vi from arcane lol 🙈) not edited & uploaded via iphone!! i also haven’t written in months lol

    trailing behind your fellow mentor and dear friend, lysistrata vickers, you couldn’t help but grow anxious of the impending meeting with the tribute you had been assigned. nearing the zoo where the tributes were being kept in this year, your heart rate sped up. the practice of mentoring a tribute was something that had never been done before, so nerves were on edge. and on top of that, the thought of the twenty-four district children being kept on display in a monkey house was enough to make you shiver with disgust. though, it was not much better than the horse stables they had been kept in prior to this year. if you were lucky, your tribute would be willing to cooperate with you like coriolanus’ girl, lucy gray, had. thoughts swamped your brain as lyssie dragged you to the front of the cage, about to part ways with you to find her respective tribute, the hulking district twelve boy.

     “y/n, you have nothing to lose here. we’re simply here to help them get through this as easily and… painlessly as possible,” she said, muttering the last phrase with underlying bitterness. both lysistrata and yourself were not fans of the hunger games. the prospect of dehumanizing and stripping the rights, as well as dignity, away from children your own age was safe to say, unappealing. with the war long over, shouldn’t the killing have ended by now too?

     “i know, lyssie, i just…” you paused, averting your gaze, “don’t know if i’ll be able to face her knowing what she’s about to go through. to think she’s our age, too… it’s… i don’t know how i can even help her.” you couldn’t find the words to accurately form your thought, but lysistrata understood.

     “i get it, i do. just show her what you brought her.” lysistrata patted you on the back and wandered towards the side of the enclosure that her tribute resided in. it didn’t take long to spot your tribute, who’s name you learned to be coral. her fiery red hair could be pinpointed from a mile away.

     you sighed, slowly walking up to the metal bars of the enclosure. “coral?” you tried, catching the attention of some tributes sitting closer to the bars, but not coral. pausing, you pursed your lips and tried again, calling out for her louder. this got the attention of her district partner, mizzen, who nudged coral. she looked up at mizzen and he nodded towards you. unsure of what exactly to do as they both glared at you, you waved sheepishly. coral gave a look to mizzen, then stood, striding over to where you were standing.

     as she reached the bars, you had to shift your gaze upwards to look her in the eye. “and who might you be, doll face?” she asked, her tone condescending as she eyed you up and down.

  “hi, i’m y/n, i’ll be your mentor for the games.” you stuck your hand through the bars to her and attempted to introduce yourself, but realized that the hand you had offered was holding the bag of items that you had brought for her. you quickly placed it down for a second to properly shake her hand, only for her to ignore the gesture and continue to stare expectantly.

      “mendor, huh? so rainbow girl was right after all.” you nodded in agreement, assuming she was referring to lucy gray. “so what are you gonna do for me?” you paused, thinking of the best way to put it.

     “i’m going to try my best to help you win. and take care of you, of course.” the look she gave you made you think you had three heads, and you shrunk under her gaze.

     “i’m sorry, sweetheart, but how are you going to help me?” she almost laughed.

     “well, my job as a mentor is to introduce you to the public, to make you more appealing so that people will want to watch the games.” you explained.

     “appealing, huh. am i not already?” coral asked mockingly, criticizing your choice of words. she moved forward to grip to bars and stooped down boldly to be eye to eye with you. you stuttered, quickly looking away in embarrassment.

     “i mean- yes- but that wasn’t what i meant, really!” you quickly tried, but she simply laughed at you. regaining her posture, she glanced at the bag you had set on the floor.

     “and what’s this?” she queried, urging you to pick it up and show her.

     “i brought you some food!” you offered, “you should really eat if you want to make it into the arena with enough strength to fight.” you tried, which was a dumb, obvious statement, but it seemed like a safe bet.

     “i appreciate the sentiment, sweetheart. but you don’t know what i need and don’t need.” despite the nickname, her tone was brimmed with hostility. you didn’t blame her for refusing the food, your very essence reeked of privilege, and you could tell she wasn’t one to accept pity favors. the stark contrast of your ironed uniform and manicured nails next to her unwashed attire and nails covered in dirt was off putting. you could not imagine how she felt being here, being forced to play a losing game. and on top of that, the ones who had put her in this position claimed to want to help her. the war was hard for everybody, but your family had managed to pick itself back up off of it’s feet. on the other hand, families in the district had to pay the price for lives they did not take.

     “i’m just trying to help, coral, really. these games are- they’re horrible. if i had a choice i wouldn’t participate. but i don’t. so the least i could do is help you get through them.” you spilled your opinion to her in hopes that she would accept the sustenance. picking the bag up off of the ground, you unzipped it, allowing her to take a look at the food you had brought.

     stuffed full of homemade chicken and cheese sandwiches, as well as some other miscellaneous foods sitting closer to the bottom, it was evident you had spent time trying to organize food for her to have. she glanced at the bag, then whipped her head around towards mizzen, calling him towards her. he approached and she showed him the arrangement of foods. you saw his eyes light up and you couldn’t help but feel helpful, as small a gesture as it was.

     “i don’t know if they’ve fed you or not, but…” you trailed off, allowing them to take a few of the sandwiches and an abundance of fruit, as well as a hardboiled egg or two. peering around at the rest of the tributes, some of which had been staring at the bag of food, you realized that if you were to give them the whole contents of the bag now, others would try to steal some. and while that was not necessarily a bad thing, considering your guilt for them in this situation, you had made these strictly for coral, and mizzen was just a part of the package. “coral, maybe you should eat these now. i don’t think it’s the greatest idea to hand over all of the food right now.” you suggested. she quickly realized what you meant and plopped down to the floor, egg in mouth and mizzen close behind. as you looked down at her sitting criss-cross in shock, she gestured for you to take a seat as well. it was like a picnic of some sorts. the odd, repulsive sort of one, but a picnic nonetheless.

     the pair made no effort to make conversation as they chowed down their food, and you couldn’t blame them. you twiddled your thumbs in silence for a solid twelve minutes before anyone had spoken up. scoping out the rest of the tributes, you realized that coral was a very strong contender compared to some of the other girls. the thought that the odds may be in her favor brought a smile to your face. “thanks, cupcake.” coral was already on her feet before you could even process the statement. you stood, dusting the dirt off of your uniform before smiling at coral.

     “it’s what i’m here for. i’ll try to check in as much as i can. there’s some events that the gamemakers are planning, too. they want to hold one on one mentor-tribute interviews, a tour of the arena, as well as an additional interview that will be aired to panem.” you informed her and mizzen, who made sure to stand close by.

     “so this won’t be the last i see of you?” she asked.

     “most definitely not.” you confirmed, nodding.

     “good.” she winked, turning away with mizzen in tow. from the interaction, she proved to be quite the enigma. despite her circumstances, she still had a confident, collected, and enticing aura about her, leaving you in awe, if not more.

[iris-sistibly]

The Targ Talk: House of the Dragon S2

Episode 3 commentary:

Late to the party again but anyway,

Alicent and Criston's lOveY doVey moment before the cunt left is cringey af.

Rhaenys defending Rhaenyra from the council full of men is *chef's kiss* she's the only one who understands why the queen has been holding back. I get the council's point that they should be acting now because the greens are advancing. If you really think about it, it's really too late for peace negotiations, but the queen's desperate attempts to choose a peaceful way to end this conflict--despite how hopeless, was because she knew how important it was to keep the houses united (the prophecy), she also knew that this war will cause the downfall of their House, and more innocent lives will be claimed including her loved ones and she cannot allow that.

Rhaenyra sending her babies away to keep them safe will never not be heartbreaking. I feel bad for Rhaena too, all her life she felt useless and unloved. It sucks because she never felt like a true Targaryen just because she didn't have a dragon at the time (she wouldn't have Morning until much, much later). But my girl would be taking care and watching over two future kings. A role that Rhaenyra entrusted her, which is just as important.

I've read that Geeta Patel confirmed that Dany's dragons were actually Syrax's babies, which surprised me because those three looked more like Dreamfyre than Syrax or even Caraxes (if he's their dad). I even thought that Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal were those three eggs Elissa Farman stole from way, way back (like Rhaena Targaryen, the OG rider of Dreamfyre days). Perhaps they purposely did that since Daenerys came from Rhaenyra and Daemon's line but they should have at least made Syrax look like Dany's dragons 🤷.

Milly Alcock briefly appearing in Season 2 🥹🥹 Although that scene when she was sewing Jaehaerys' neck while singing gave off a really creepy vibe, it served as Daemon's conscience and I love the way they delivered it. Hands down to Matt Smith!!! I love that scene when Daemon teared up upon realizing how much pain he had caused Rhaenyra, Matt was impeccable.

I love how Crispy Cunt and Gwayne were scrambling to save their asses from getting burned by Moondancer. Baela scaring the shit out of them is priceless, and her dragon is a cutie.

Strangely, even if Aegon is back to his Joffrey Barratheon era I don't hate him as much as the latter. He is so easy to manipulate to the point that it makes him so pathetic, I feel sorry for him that he's only king by name. However, I feel worse for Helaena. She was setting aside her own grief because she felt like the small folk had it worse. Girl you are allowed to mourn, you did not deserve that kind of trauma.

Speaking of which, I wish they have shown more of Helaena's grief--the guilt, the nightmare that kept haunting her, OR Helaena setting her emotions aside because she felt that she does not deserve to mourn the death of Jaehaerys because she felt guilty of what she did. I think that would have been truer to what Helaena actually feels (and closer to her story in the book). Though I commend her strength for being able to "forgive" Alicent, not just for what happened to Jaehaerys, but perhaps for the things she fucked up in the past. Though I've read a fan theory that the scene could also depict Helaena's vision that Alicent might betray the greens in an attempt to correct her mistake or something like that, what do you think?

Ewan Mitchell is brave for doing that nude scene to show Aemond's vulnerable side. He is cold, fierce, and intelligent on the outside, but underneath that armor, he is someone who has suffered so much at a young age and is still hurting until now.

I'm still mad at this incredibly stupid writing that Alicent thought Viserys was referring to their son Aegon. Imagine losing your children, killing each other, and traumatizing your surviving loved ones over a misunderstanding. A fucking misunderstanding. Idk what the screenwriters were thinking or who came up with this idea but...I cannot.

Rhaenyra's last attempt, as expected was pointless. Even if Alicent admitted that she fucked up, and declare Rhaenyra as the rightful queen, she knew it wouldn't change anything. Aegon [most likely] wouldn't just suck it up and accept Rhaenyra as queen knowing how angry he is at her for his son's death, and it's not like the council would listen to Alicent anyway, so much are already at stake and I don't think the greens would back down just like that.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Yes please writte this historical Au cause you'r writing is already amazing but medival enemys to lovers for Susie and Demarco would be a real gift to us .Lots of Love and a Happy week to you

Thank you so much anon - and extra thanks to everyone else who's messaged me about this AU! <3 hope you enjoy!!

@xxluckystrike @p-polaroid

wars of the roses au -> susie lamb x bernard demarco

The carriage swayed uncomfortably from side to side against the uneven road below, the only sound the constant rattle of wheels and braying of horses as the boy and his father approached their destination. Bernard DeMarco slouched in his seat, staring back at the elder man across from him, a sour frown contorting his expression.

"Stop sulking like a child and sit up straight," His father snapped, tearing his unimpressed gaze away from the window. "It's bad enough we have to grovel to these people, do not arrive looking a fool."

Bernard rolled his eyes. "I still do not understand this. My brothers married Ladies - you are an Earl. And who is she? Her father had no title - her brother may be a Baron now, but he was not born one. Why have I had to fall so far?"

"Your brothers may have married Ladies, but their families are now outcasts from the court of our new King Henry. We need influence and new alliances, and her sisters have married well - this will connect us to the right people, son."

Suppressing a sigh, he leant sideways against the inside of the carriage, staring out at the red-brick chimney pots and they pulled into the courtyard of the Lamb family's home, the walls encircling him like a prison. As the carriage rolled to a halt, he and his father stepped outside, the fresh country air a balm after so many hours inside the wooden box. At the door, an older woman awaited, closer in age to his father, skin pinched at the corners of her eyes, dark hair pulled tightly back beneath her cap. "Welcome, my Lord. My son is waiting for you inside."

Watching as his father fell in step with the woman - whom he assumed would soon be his own mother once this business was over - Bernard trailed closely behind, taking in his surroundings as they filed through the corridors towards the house's main hall. The place was plainer than he was used to, although not entirely without its charm. As they crossed the entryway, a girl appeared at the top of the stairs, staring down at them, warm brown curls framing her face, a pink flush tinting her cheeks as she sent him a sweet smile. Although not the most handsome girl he had seen, she was certainly pleasant.

"Father?" He called as Mrs Lamb disappeared in search of her children. "Who's that, up there?"

Following his gaze, his father nodded. "Eleanor. The youngest sister."

He was sure his disappointment was visible. "Can't I marry that one instead? She seems agreeable."

"Hm, the King thought so too. Which is why she is already betrothed to the Earl of Leicester's son."

"So I am truly to take the scraps?"

"Unfortunately," A voice echoed from the other end of the hall. Bernard and his father turned simultaneously, peering at the woman as she approached, loose, auburn locks bouncing over her shoulders with each movement, footsteps echoing against the polished wooden floor. She eyed him closely, with the scrutiny of a fox assessing its prey, and he felt sweat begin to bead at his brow.

"Ah! Susannah!" Her mother exclaimed, a younger man at her shoulder as she returned, his gaze skittish, never meeting the eye. But there was a distinct resemblance between the two, and he found himself suppressing a snort as he realised the man must have been the Baron. "Wonderful. My Lord, if we may talk in the drawing room? We can leave these two to make their introductions."

In that moment, Bernard wanted nothing less than to be left alone with this woman. Nevertheless, his father had soon vanished, and the pair stood silently at the base of the stairs as he tried not to flinch under her gaze, so penetrating it was as if she could see straight through his clothes and flesh all the way to his very bones. Eleanor let out a giggle from upstairs, and soon she too was gone.

"So," Susannah Lamb began. "You truly are desperate."

A prick of indignation stabbed at his chest, pushing his shoulders back to tower above her even more than he already did. Her lips were pursed in a thin smirk as she waited for his reply, and he realised that - as irritable as her expression was - her face was far from unappealing to him. If anything, at least their children might appear personable.

"Madam, I am doing you a favour with this match," He grimaced.

"Oh, certainly. But it humiliates you to do it - to marry so below your birthright, all because your father chose the wrong side."

"It's surely telling that no one on your own side would take you as a wife - although I can't confess to being surprised."

At this, she began to laugh, and Bernard bit at the inside of his cheek so hard that he almost drew blood. He certainly hadn't intended for such a reaction, and worse still was the melodious warmth with which she did it. It was a laugh that, in itself, he could have surely come to love. That it came from Susannah was... confusing.

With a final dry chuckle, she finally spoke. "Well, you have confirmed my every expectation, Sir." Susannah nodded, still smiling.

He scoffed. "And you're pleased by that?"

"Oh absolutely. If you'd been agreeable I would've found you so much harder to dislike."

"You're very resolved to dislike me, aren't you?"

"Well, it certainly makes my life easier," She shrugged, her skirts rustling as she turned on her heel and began to walk away, the rhythmic drum of footsteps parting the tense quiet. Bernard watched on for a moment before letting out an irritated huff as he began to pursue. Up ahead, her dress swayed side to side with each step, all at once infuriating and disgustingly hypnotic.

"In what way?" He yelled.

"There's no expectation that I see you beyond what is strictly necessary," Susannah called over her shoulder, the sunlight through a passing window casting shadows across her profile. She had just made it around the next corner when he caught up, seizing her wrist and tugging her to a halt. Expression contorted in distaste, she yanked her arm sharply from his grip, yet made no effort to flee. "Until the very moment we are wed, you do not touch me."

"Do you truly think I want to marry you?" He sneered.

"Do you truly think I care what you want?" She shot back, mimicking his own tone in a way that made his blood boil.

"My brothers wed Ladies-"

"And I'm sure they were very pleased with themselves at the time."

With his jaw clenched so tightly he feared his teeth may shatter, Bernard searched desperately for some scrap of wit he could hurl back in her face, only for his mind to come up devastatingly empty. It wasn't until the pair had fallen silent that he realised quite how close they'd become. With each insult, they had inched forward to better spit their venom, but all it seemed to mean now was that there was barely a gap between them, their breath fanning each other's cheeks, heads tilted towards one another, lips mere inches apart. Susannah's expression was cold, unyielding, and it seemed to take her a moment to realise this herself. Suddenly clearing her throat, she took a decisive step back, and the air around him seemed to clear, suddenly absent of warmth.

"Bernard!" His father's voice echoed from somewhere back down the hall.

"Off you go," She whispered, that ever-present tone of mockery still lining her voice. "He's tugging your leash, pup."

Taking a step back towards his father, Bernard took one last scornful glance at the woman, a beam of sunlight streaking through the window and lighting her hair a fiery orange.

"Milady," He bit, turning his back on her as he returned to his father, who stood waiting for him at the base of the stairs, brow raised in question. At the sight of his son's dour frown, he nodded, seemingly entirely unsurprised.

Susannah's mother uttered her thanks, and they were out the door almost as swiftly as they had come, the gravel in the courtyard crunching noisily beneath their feet as they returned to their carriage. Swinging the door open, Bernard's father climbed in first, looking back at his son once he'd taken his seat.

"So? What do you think of her, then?"

Turning his head, he took one last look at the house. Movement in one of the upstairs windows caught his eye, and he glanced up as Susannah took a seat upon the sill, attention so captured by the book in her hands that she never spared a glance for the man who was to be her husband. When peaceful, she appeared an entirely different woman. With a huff, he clambered inside, sitting down opposite his father.

"I think we'll make each other miserable."

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Hi! Thanks for your last response. I have another question but more so for the writer in you. In an AU where after both marriages to Daemon and Laenor Rhaenyra has had no children at all but not of her own free will (so no kids with Harwin), how would that affect the characterisation of Viserys, Rhaenyra, Alicent, Aegon?

I have my ideas of course but I'm curious what you think 😀

Okay I had to think about this one a bit but I actually think that in this scenario the Dance probably wouldn't have happened.

If Rhaenyra has no children at all, Aegon is her heir by default. In this situation, it's not really worth risking a war to put Aegon on the throne earlier, especially because Rhaenyra now has an actual vested interest in keeping her brothers alive. The thing is, although sometimes we hear that Rhaenyra had to have children to secure the succession, the succession was secure through her brothers and their children, strictly speaking. Having your very own bloodline on the throne is not strictly necessary (just look at Elizabeth I), it's a want, not something needed for the good of the realm. So in this situation its in Otto and Alicent's best interests just to wait her out. Worst case scenario, Rhaenyra outlives Aegon (and if he's still hard drinking in this world, this isn't unlikely) and Aegon's child succeeds him which means....

If all else remains the same, the thing to do would be to pursue Baela as a bride for Aegon (how convenient for me!). In this scenario Daemon isn't getting any closer to the throne than that unless he attempts to usurp Rhaenyra with the Velaryons, and for all that he sucks I just can't see him doing that. A Baela/Aegon match would be a smart move in any scenario, but in this one it's ideal because the only real threats to the succession now come from the Velaryon line and Daemon's chaotic self, and if you neutralize the Velaryons you neutralize Daemon too because any resistance Daemon could possibly mount would always depend upon Velaryon backing. Otherwise he's just one guy with a dragon. That said, if Rhaenyra dies at a normal-ish age, Daemon is likely going to be long gone by then, so he's really kind of a non-issue in a world where he only has the two daughters by Laena.

Alicent is probably a lot more chill because her sons are not really in any danger. Instead of being obstacles for Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra instead needs them in order to prove that the succession is handled. Rhaenyra might actually have some motivation to bond with Aegon at the very least, seeing as he is her heir. And honestly, it's pretty likely that Aegon is a bit more well adjusted in a world where he doesn't have a sword of damocles hanging over his head the whole time, and in which his mother can just be a regular old slightly neurotic repressed lesbian (and hell, in this scenario maybe she and Rhaenyra could actually have a discreet affair. hmm...). Viserys probably still ignores his non-Rhaenyra children but maybe that fucks them up a bit less because it doesn't feel like he's actually trying to get them killed, it just makes him more of a regular asshole father (if the regular asshole was a king).

In a lot of ways, this would kind of be a win-win scenario, so it's interesting that so many people jump on the "Rhaenyra had to have kids to secure the line of succession, what was she supposed to do, force Laenor??" thing. Clearly Rhaenyra didn't have to have kids, she wanted to, which is absolutely her choice and her right, but it also makes her a lot like her father.

[fangirlstorycreator]

Aemond Targaryen X Reader

Travelling the world to explore and learn, your suprised when you find yourself in the company of the Targaryen's. But one amongst them formed a closer bond than the others, but was that a blessing, or a curse? Your history and family are questioned by everyone, and in time you aswell. But what could this mean? And is your future with the greens? Or the black? That's all going to come to light....especially learning about your capabilities....even with the most deadly of creatures.....

(P.S. Anything in red is a character speaking in high valyrian)

Contains: explicit language/C word 😬/aggressive behaviour/fighting/not for minors

Part 1/3

Dragons...war...destruction and chaos...this was the world you were born into. You learned very quickly that life was dangerous, filled with bad people, cruel motives and even worst things people had to do just to get by, or fill their belly with food. You were an only child, and never met your parents, so being raised by your grandmother was what you had instead. Your grandmother owned a brothal, made a rather successful career in employing women to make money, and bring in the men who would give as much coin as they desired. Your she herself was once a wh#re, as she put it, after leaving her disastrous family to make her own way in life. During her time of making this brothal her own, she had two children, one boy, one girl. Her son grew up and left to have a life of his own, while her daughter, your mother, chose to work closer to home, your grandmother's brothal. You were told that the man who impregnated your mother had emerald green eyes, and your mother's were violet. Your mother took after hers, having long white hair, however, when you were born, you looked very different to how you were expected to come. On the day of your birth, there you came. Held in your mother's arms right after giving you life, and you were extremely unique. Not white hair like your mother's and hers before her, but brown hair, with a patch of white on the right side of your head. Also your hair wasn't straight like your mother's either, it was curly and bouncy, according to your grandmother, your father had curly bouncy hair. That was something noone had seen in a baby before, however, the most unique part about you was when you opened your eyes. One green eye, one violet. Unfortunately, your mother passed away soon after you were born due to an illness brought on through child birth, you never had the chance to meet her.

But your grandmother spoke about her in many positive ways, helping you keep a little part of your mother growing up. You saw what the brothal was like when you were a child, witnessed the men coming and going, and new what the women were expected to do. Your grandmother explained it all to you, and why she chose to make this place what it was. But no matter what, your grandmother had always told you that you could choose your own path in life, decide your own way, and if you wanted something, you needed to fight for it. Don't just settle. Search, find, explore, just like she did. According to her, she was born into a family that made choices about her life before she was even born. Not allowing her to do what she wished, or go wherever she wanted, it was like being born into slavery. She didn't want to be used like a pawn in someone else's game, she didn't want to be used as something to make babies for the next generation. If she wanted a child, she'd choose to have one with whomever she wanted. She didn't tell you who her family were, just that they weren't a family she'd choose. And having the freedom to have her own son and daughter away from that life, was more than she could have hoped for. From a young age, you knew you didn't want to settle down or have babies, you wanted to explore the world and find all the beauty and adventures in it. You wanted freedom, skills, knowledge, and noone was going to stop you from getting it. Your grandmother adored you, and supported you in your dreams. There was something she used to say to you whenever you showed your strength and capabilities.

"You have the fire of a dragon in your heart my darling. Let the world see you burn"

You never knew why she said that, maybe it was because she told you tales of dragons who belonged to the royal bloodline, The Targaryen's. In tales she told, The Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen had claimed the dragon known as Syrax, a beautiful golden female dragon. As well as her other family members, her father Viserys, who rode The Black Dread, Balerion. And his brother Daemon, rider of Caraxes, and many many more. You were fascinated by the stories of the dragons, especially those who were wild or unclaimed. She told you about 3 wild dragons, Sheepstealer, Greyghost and The Cannibal. Noone had claimed these dragons before, and noone had lived when confronting them, especially the most dangerous of all...The Cannibal. The Cannibal fascinated you the most, he was said to be the largest of the wild dragons, and had been given the name due to him killing and eating his own kind. Now that was one dangerous creature. Can you imagine anyone claiming him? It would seem anyone who has tried, has found out the hard way...but what if it was possible? What if indeed...By the age of nine-and-ten, you were just one year away from turning 20, and new that this was the time to venture out on your own. Your grandmother had helped you with learning life lessons, how to keep yourself safe and not to care what anyone says. In her own words.

"If someone's acting like a cunt, treat them like a cunt"

That was one of your favourite things she ever told you. Not only that, but you had taken lessons on weaponry as well as hand to hand combat skills. Your grandmother had paid for the best teachers to help you fight as well as, or even better than most fighters of the generation. So not only were you mentally prepared for the world, but you were physically prepared for it too, having knowledge and skills with every weapon and blade known to man. The day you left your grandmother, she was so proud of you and what you've achieved. She wished you luck on the path, and told you there was a forever home for you hear, if you ever wanted to come back. She was so understanding of you not wanting to be a whore in the brothal, which was something your mother had chosen for herself. She was proud to see you leave and fight for yourself, to hear about your adventures and what you'll become. Right before you left, your grandmothers last words to you were.

"And if you see your uncle, tell him I wish him well"

"Trust me grandmother, when I see him I'll probably knock him out"

"You two always had a weird way of expressing love for eachother"

"It's a sign of strength and respect! Only my uncle and I get to do that, it's kind of like our own little family tradition"

"Just TRY not to knock him out this time if you come across him ok? I know he taught you that, but you've grown stronger in your years"

"While he's grown, what? Weaker?"

"Don't let him hear you say those words darling"

"As if I would. Goodbye grandmother, I hope to return with many stories of adventures"

"And I'll be ready for each and every one of them"

With one final wave, you climb onto your horse and trot through the streets, onto whatever life was going to throw at you. The first few months were definitely an interesting start. You had taken on small contracts to help the innocents of the land. Weather it be helping them rebuild their home from a storm, or paid to slay a beast that was hunting and killing people. Whatever it was, you were truly living, and fighting just like you wanted. Every time you went to a new place, you had sent a letter to your grandmother, telling her about your adventures. She was always so pleased to hear from you, and no matter where you were, you always sent her a letter, as she did to you. It wasn't all smooth sailing though. There were many times you yourself were in very dangerous situations, but managed to overcome them with your determination. One time a short while back, a band of pirates had climbed aboard the ship taking you to a new area, when they attacked you and the rest of the crew. While you did incredibly well to slay nearly half of them with ease, you didn't see one sneek up from behind you and reach around to stab you right above your belt line. You were weakened, but killed the pirate who hurt you. You had no idea how the night ended until you woke up the next morning to a healer on the ship, tending to your wound. She had told you the knife wound had damaged something that was unable to be fixed. The short version, you weren't able to bare any children, not one. The wound that would soon be scar tissue had stopped any chance of you creating life, and yet....you weren't upset. This world was dangerous enough as it was, and you didn't want to be a mother, if anything, this was a blessing in disguise. Once you healed up a few weeks later, you were back to doing whatever you wished, including indulging in the pleasures of men. Now that there was no fear of pregnancy, you could truly enjoy sex rather than fear it, and it was incredible.

Some men knew what they were doing, some were not as impressive. But you were young and free, and had your whole life ahead of you, with a choice of anywhere to go. One sunny day, a ship you happened upon had taken you to another place you had yet to see, Kings Landing. The tales about this place were true. There were hundreds of people who lived and worked there, streets filled with life, with many different kinds of people too. You had only recently heard of the issues that had gone on hear. With King Viserys dying, his first born son Aegon being named King, and many of the people choosing sides of either the current King, or The Princess who was named heir, Rhaenyra. You didn't follow the politics of the royal family very much, but you did know this new information, and that The Princess had left for Dragonstone, but was still eager to reclaim her birthright. Hopefully this wasn't something that was going to get in the way of your visit hear. Walking through the streets, many looked at you, in awe or suprise. It was clear that the people hear hadn't seen a young woman in light armour, weapons kept close and a confidence about her. Or maybe it was that your personal features were different? Not changing from birth, you still had your white streak of hair, proudly on show in your ponytail of wavy brown locks. Your emerald green and violet eyes scanning everyone and everything you see, taking in all you wanted to know.

It was at that moment, that you witness a small child being pulled by their hand by a man in armour. This child couldn't have been more than 5-6? What did he think he was doing with him?

"Please sir! I only wanted an apple to feed my sister! My mother is unwell and can't work for us!"

"Shut it you little shit! You were caught stealing! And for that (he says raising his dagger above the boys hand) You will face the punishment!"

"No! NO!"

Everyone watched in shock, not brave enough to stand up to this soldier, about to bare witness to this little boy having his hand chopped off. But you weren't going to stand for it. The split second his blade was going to slice at this little boy, you grab the soldiers wrist, and held him firmly in your grasp, everyone around you fell into silence.

"Who dares lay hands on The Kings Guard?!"

"Someone who doesn't tolerate bullies"

You say proudly, twisting his wrist back and kicking him to the ground, everyone gasping as he does. The poor little boy shakes with fear, but while the soldier collects himself, you kneel beside this child, and whisper.

"Go and hide behind the banner over there. I'll come and find you once it's over ok?"

Simply nodding his head, he ran quicker than his feet could carry him, and you wait patiently for the soldier to stand, hands crossed, waiting patiently when he starts brushing the dirt from his knees.

"You insolent whore! You dare approach and lay hands on a man like that?"

"Interesting you should ask that, considering you were the one who was hurting a child, and was about to cut off his hand"

"The child...was a THIEF!"

"Do you hear yourself? He's a child. Who told you he was trying to feed his family. You seriously think you have the right to hurt him?"

"Any thief will face the consequences of The Kings Guard"

"Is that right? And The King himself put this rule out to all the people of the city?"

"Yes!"

"The former King Viserys? Or the current King Aegon?"

"By order of King Aegon Targaryen, anyone who steals in Kings Landing shall face the penalty!"

"And did he include children in that?"

"A thief is a thief! No matter the age!"

"Well then, in my personal opinion, any King who thinks it's acceptable to punish a hungry child for taking an apple, by cutting off their hand....is a cunt"

The entire street gasp in horror! Noone had said anything bad about The King before! Let alone infront of The Kings Guard.

"What....did you just say?!"

"Oh? Did you not hear me the first time? Any King who thinks it's acceptable to punish a CHILD like that....is a CUNT!"

The soldier pulled out his sword, pointing it in your direction.

"You dare speak about The King in this way?! I shall kill you hear and now for your slander! Repent, and I may spare you with a lifetime in the castle dungeons"

"Pfftt! Is that little sword supposed to scare me?"

That's when you pull out a 6 inch tube from behind you on your belt, you subtlety press a button and out of each end shoots a hidden weapon. The moment you press it, this small object turns into a double ended spear, that also makes everyone gasp in amazement. Smirking and giving it a few easy, and impressive swirls in your hand, you hold it beside you, ready for anything he throws at you.

"You want to kill me? Go ahead. Oh! I must let you know, the last man who said he'd kill me, ended up with his head on a spike...I'm just saying...."

The soldier can hear the firm confidence in your voice, you stand still, ready for anything. Whereas he is starting to shake in his armour.

"A woman can't fight! All women are whores! And once I'm through with you, I'll make you my OWN personal bitch!"

"Hhsss, oh dear....seems I'm going to have to teach you some manners..."

The second he swung his sword, you slashed his armour right off from his torso, slice at his hand holding his sword, and kicking him to the ground as you stand before him. One foot pressed on his chest and your spear pointed directly at his throat, he was powerless to you, and everyone around could see that.

"Now...what was that you were saying about calling me a whore? And wanting to put me in the castle dungeons?"

"I-I, uh-umm"

"Speak up little man"

"I, I'm sorry. Please forgive me"

"Get up...and if you try and harm an innocent child again, or get in my way while I'm hear, I won't be so merciful next time. Now run off to your King. I intend to drop by the castle shortly. Hopefully another view on this situation can change how The King views children in the eyes of the law"

Without hesitation, he stormed away in the other direction, that's when the people of Kings Landing who had watched the whole thing, started applauding you. It would seem there aren't many people over hear who stick up for them. You just generously nod, and excuse yourself, heading to the little boy who was hiding behind the banner. Kneeling down, you speak gently as not to frighten him.

"Are you ok?"

"Y-yes my lady"

"No need to call me lady, just call me Y/N"

"Ok"

"May I ask your name?"

"It's...it's Laeon"

"It's nice to meet you Laeon. If I heard correctly, you tried to take an apple for your sister?"

"Yes...she's hungry, and my mother can't work right now. I can go longer without food, but my sister, she's so much smaller than me"

"You wait hear, I'll be right back"

You stand and walk to one of the market stalls selling food, and buy a fair amount, putting it into a large basket. Apples, bread, preserved food in sealed tubs, dried cured meats and some sweet rolls too. Taking it back to the little boy, you offer him your hand to help him up.

"I would like to give this to your family. Would you care to show the way?

He simply smiled, taking your hand and leading you through the streets and straight to a quiet area with a wooden door. He pushes it open and runs straight to his mother, who was sat on a chair and holding her daughter.

"Laeon! Where have you been?!"

"I'm sorry mother, I was trying to get something for us, for Laenya"

"Oh, it's ok, it's ok. Who-who is this?"

You enter and smile at the mother, Laeon happily bounds up to you.

"Mother! This is Y/N! She helped me in the market street"

"Helped you? I don't understand? What happened?"

Laeon suddenly goes quiet, clearly nervous about what he's done.

"Laeon was trying to get an apple for his sister. A member of the Kings Guard tried to hurt him, and I stepped in-"

"She beat him up mother! She-she kicked him to the ground and swore at him! And she has this BIG spear that-"

"Laeon..."

"Oh! Sorry, I interrupted"

You just smile and shake your head when his mother scolded him for that.

"Anyway, the Kings Guard left and your son lead me to you and your daughter. He told me your unable to work right now, is that right?"

"Ah, yes. I work in the (whispers "brothel") but I've slipped and sprained my foot. I'm unable to perform certain duties and can't walk properly for at least a few days. And without work, I can't afford to buy food for my children"

"Well then, it's a good thing I ran into your son. I've brought you a basket of some food to keep you going. You said you'd be resting for a few days, there's about a weeks worth of food in hear, plus a small bag of coin that can restock that basket if needed"

"Oh, my lady, I can't possibly accept this. I have nothing to give you in return"

"I don't want anything in return. Your son was very brave today, and your a mother trying to do best by her children. Sometimes we need someone who will just give a little help. And hopefully this will"

"You are...unbelievably generous my lady, how can I ever thank you?"

Laeon suddenly jumps and smiles at his mother.

"Do not call her a lady mother! She wants us to use her name. What was it again? Y/B?"

"Y/N"

"Yeh yeh!"

You can't help but chuckle, Laeons mother smiles too.

"Bless you Y/N. I will let my friends and the people know that you are a generous woman who is a kindness to Kings Landing"

"It's really no problem at all. If you don't mind me asking, this is my first time hear in Kings Landing. And it doesn't seem to be very popular. What's the reason why?"

"It's all about the Targaryen's. The royal bloodline who rule this place. The late King Viserys was gentle and understanding to the people. But since he passed away and his son has now become King, it's as if people are of no use to them. I believe it was The Princess who should have been on the iron throne, Rhaenyra was a good woman. But Aegon...we all fear what he will do as King"

"Well then, it seems it's time for me to meet this Aegon. If he thinks it's acceptable to allow fully grown men to what they did to your son, he needs a firm talking too"

"Talk to The King?! But you can't! Noone sees The King unless they are a member of the council, Kings Guard or Targaryen blood!"

"Well today, he's going to have to make an exception-"

"Wait wait! Did Laeon speak true? You took down a member of the Kings Guard?"

"Yes, it was quite easy actually. I don't know who trained him, but he clearly wasn't the best fighter hear"

"Your right! But! Today is where Sir Criston Cole is holding a fighting tournament, in an arena inside the courtyard of the castle. It's where he recruits new soldiers to fight along side him. And whomever is the strongest, not only gets an audience with The King, but gets a chance to work in the castle as the personal guard of the royal bloodline. They could use someone of your kindness, bravery and generosity in the castle, lord knows most of the family in there don't show any of that to us little folk"

"Is that so? Well that's definitely peeked my interest, but the fact I could get an audience just by turning up and fighting? That sounds like a very good idea. I think that's what I shall do"

"Please be careful though! There are 2 men whome no soldier or fighter has managed to defeat. Be careful your not up against one of them"

"And just out of curiosity, who might they be?"

"Sir Criston Cole...and the only man who has won against him in a fight...Aemond Targaryen"

"Aemond? I've heard of that name, isn't he brother of The King?"

"That's correct"

"Well then, it seems I have quite and interesting afternoon ahead of me"

Saying your goodbyes to the family, you made your way back to the market street and asked one of the vendors what the quickest way to the castle was.

"Do you truly intend to speak to The King?"

"I do, and it seems that someone needs too. What he thinks is right in this place is completely unacceptable"

"Whilst I do agree...I fear you might fail"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's nothing against you at all, but it's the fact that your a woman. No woman is truly safe hear in Kings Landing, royal or commoner. In fact, your the very first female fighter I have ever seen, and watching you take down a member of the Kings Guard so quickly and easily, was like watching history being written infront of my own eyes"

"I understand that women aren't seen as real people hear, but maybe the royal family need a different perspective. And I intend to show them that. Now, what was the quickest way again?"

Upon learning how to get there, you soon arrive at the front of the castle, where the fighting arena was being held. A long line of men were up against the wall, waiting to be summoned to the centre, where a man with short dark hair, silver armour was and a white cloak was standing. This must be Criston Cole, The Commander of the Kings Guard, he must be the one to choose who was worthy of an audience with The King. He was twirling his sword around as you stood and waited with the men against the wall, which clearly caused some mumbles and whispers.

"Hey"

One man said to you who stood right beside you, with two other men looking at what was happening.

"This arena is for fighters. Why don't you run along home and cook something in the kitchen for when your husband arrives eh?"

He and the two men laugh at what he said, but you just simply smile.

"Tell me, do you have a wife at home?"

"Yes, and two daughters"

"Hhsss...oh you poor thing"

"What?"

"I just feel bad for your wife. You see, apparently a woman only gives birth to girls if she hasn't had a real orgasm. It seems you can't speak nicely to women, or satisfy them either. So it's a real shame your wife and daughters have to deal with a shovanistic beta male walking around the house all the time. Is that why your over compensating with such a big sword?....Maybe you'd be happier with a dagger? Try asking your wife for recommendations, she must have lots of experience with handling...(looking down at his crotch) smaller items..."

Now that, definitely shut him up, unlike the two men watching, who were laughing till tears came out, you just smile and face the centre again. You look around the arena moments before the fighting started, and up on the main turret, looking down on everything, were a few members of court and the royal bloodline. Lady Alicent Hightower, her father Otto Hightower, King Aegon Targaryen...and someone stood beside him, with long white hair, a focused expression and an eye patch. Was this the brother you had heard about? Whome had claimed the dragon Vhagar? If it was, that was impressive for someone the same age as you. And if it is him, the mother you spoke to had warned you about Criston and him, you needed to be on your guard.

"Attention to all whome have come to the arena! As The Commander of the Kings Guard, I shall be dueling any who dares to face me. Whomever I choose to be a part of the Kings Guard shall have the honour of serving King Aegon Targaryen. And the strongest will have a chance to work as personal guard to The King. Now! Who dares to face me first?"

The man who was beside you clears his throat, and approaches Criston Cole, trying his best to look valiant and brave. However, it would appear his attempt to bark was actually worst than his bite. As Criston had dueled him for a matter of seconds before wounding the man and declaring that he is not strong enough. He left that arena quicker than he had arrived, tale between his legs. One by one, each of the men in the line approached Criston, and they all fell, one way or another to his sword and skills. The last man hobbled away with a damaged leg, only for the arena to now hold Criston...and you. It would seem that he was unaware that a woman had entered, and thought you being there was a mistake.

"My apologies my lady, I believe you may be lost. This is a fighting arena"

"I am well aware of what this is Criston Cole. I am hear to fight"

"With all due respect my lady, women can't fight"

"Care to put that to the test?"

He looked around a little nervously, even the royal family who were watching from above. Surprisingly, it was King Aegon who announced down into the arena.

"Come now Sir Criston! If this woman truly wants to fight, why not give her what she wants? And when she fails, she can go back to being a housewife!"

You hold your tounge and stay firm in your posture, not giving Aegon the satisfaction of your reaction. Now it seems Criston has no choice, his King demands it.

"Alright, step forward my lady"

"You can call me lady when I act like one..."

You say, removing your weapon and opening it just like you did in the market. Twirling and displaying the dangerous and impressive double ended spear you hold. Alicent and Otto think this is barbaric, Aegon starts to get rather excited, thinking this may actually be very interesting. And Aemond...he can't seem to take his eye off you...why?

"Are you ready Criston? Or do you need a break after fighting all those men before me?"

"I never loose my strength"

"Let's see about that"

It was Criston who struck first, but you were more skilled than he ever will be, and slid right out of the way, ducking his sword strike with ease. Again, he swung, over and over, each time you swerve or slide straight out of the way, smiling and not allowing his sword to even touch you. You were doing circles around him, all the men who had come before were all hit by his weapon, yet he couldn't touch you. This was observed by the royal family, with Aegon laughing at Criston failing against a woman. But it would seem that one member was growing more and more fascinated by you, leaning against the turret wall and watching you move with such skill, such control. Aemond Targaryen was almost hypnotized by you.

"Come now Criston! Can't you catch me? I am just a woman after all"

"You cannot fight so you dodge me? That's cowardly!"

"I'm simply avoiding your weak attempts to harm me. Your on the attack, where as if I was on the attack, you'd be on the floor in mere moments"

"I'll believe that when I see it, whore!"

"Oooh, naughty Criston..."

That was the moment you stopped, his sword swung up to your face, but you easily blocked it with your spear. Criston couldn't believe it, someone had successfully blocked him. And he was in for a bigger shock when you used your spear to push his sword away, swiping and slicing at him and his armour, backing him up and frightening him in the process. You were winning, you were in control and Criston was struggling to stay on his feet and defend your strikes. Seconds later, you duck his sword and swipe at his lower legs, he falls to the ground with a loud crash and his sword has been dropped, just out of reach. You stand with your feet beside him, spear pointed at his neck as he sweats and shivers from you defeating him.

"Call me a whore again, and this blade will be the last thing you ever see..."

A loud cheer and round of applause is heard from The King and Otto above, still keeping your blade close and your eyes on Criston, you step back, allowing him to stand and brush himself down after being humiliated by you. From the look on his face, it was clear he hadn't been beaten in a long time, and never by the opposite sex. The doors to you and Criston flew open where Aegon, Aemond and Otto all walk to Criston, Aegon still laughing a little at him.

"I, I apologise Criston, I do. But my! It was just too amusing seeing you beaten so easily, and by a girl no less!"

"My deepest regrets your grace. I must have been caught a little off guard by her"

"Pfftt! Please! We all saw you from above, she ruined you! Haha! Oh my it truly was a spectacular sight to see. And my...I hadn't been close enough to see you properly my lady. What an interesting look you have, is that a white streak in your hair? And the odd coloured eyes too. Green and violet. I apologise for what I said about you earlier"

You say nothing, just stand and listen to him. If your going to speak, it's going to be about the important things, not your looks.

"How interesting, almost as if you have a touch of Targaryen about you. My family have white hair, yet you have but a streak. How did that happen?"

"If I might interject your grace"

"What the f#ck is it Criston?"

"I-I apologise for not being able to find a suitable candidate for the Kings Guard"

As Criston is trying to talk to The King, Aegon still subtly smiles at you. But you continue to stay firm. When you glanced away however, you were suprised to see the younger, yet taller brother Aemond. He was observing you with his one eye, taking in all your features with fascination. He says nothing, does nothing, just looks, but why?

"I-I shall send word for more men to come forth and show their strength-"

"No need Sir Criston...I believe we have a suitable warrior already"

Aegon says proudly looking at you. Otto and Criston are extremely confused, yet Aemond seems to have the smallest of smiles at the corner of his mouth. Otto interject's.

"Your grace, you cannot possibly be considering allowing a woman to join the Kings Guard? She simply got lucky against Sir Criston. He had fought many and must have been tired from that, and she took advantage"

"Well from what I was seeing Otto, this young woman not only gave him the space to make any move he wanted, but gave him ample opportunities to harm her. Alas it would seem he simply wasn't...good enough"

"Your grace-"

"And by the way Otto, I am not considering her as a member of the Kings Guard. I would like to offer her the position of being my personal guard"

"Your grace! This is-"

"Not your place to speak Otto! I am your King and my word is final!"

"....Yes...yes your grace"

"Wonderful! Now, it would seem I need a private conversation with this young woman. Otto you may leave, and you Sir Criston. My lady, if you'd like to follow me?"

The whole of the arena was watching you follow Aegon into the castle, closely followed by his brother Aemond. Aemond walked behind you the whole way, it didn't intimidate you in the slightest, so it must have been for the security of his brother and King. A short walk later, your in the throne room, where Aegon sits himself comfortably on the throne, while Aemond takes his place, standing at the foot of the throne.

"Now then my lady, you truly are an enigma. Not only are you the first woman who has learned how to fight hear, but you also seem to be the only other person besides my brother who has beaten Criston Cole in a match! Now that is impressive. And what's more impressive is your silence. Tell me, are you a mute? Taken a vow of silence?"

"I have taken no vow"

You say proudly, making Aemond listen to you more closely. This had been the first time he had heard your voice, and he was entranced.

"I simply allow my actions to speak for me at the right opportunity"

"Oh really? Well, you've certainly done that today. You've demonstrated great skill, balance, knowledge of weaponry and a calm focus. Something many around hear seem to be lacking these days. How would you like to work as my personal guard?"

"While the offer is a good one, I actually came hear today to speak with you on another matter"

The room falls silent. Both the brothers look at eachother, and Aegon sits up a little more in his throne, looking you straight in the eye.

"Is that so?....There are not many common folk brave enough to try and come straight to The King to discuss simply matters. Those who have tried have ended up in chains, or thrown out of Kings Landing"

"I am aware. However, I am someone who will not feel fear easily. I do not feel intimidated by anyone, especially those who happen to be of royal blood or who sits upon a throne. In my eyes noone is my superior, if there is respect and understanding I shall treat anyone as my equal. So this is something you should greatly consider as I speak to you. If you wish for me to work in your castle, I will not refer to you as your grace, I will not be called a lady, for I do not act like one. We can be on a name basis and I will be truthful with you about anything you wish to discuss. Weather it's politics or simply how you look in certain outfits. All I ask is that you hear a request I have to discuss with you, and agree too. Otherwise I shall leave hear and not come back. I am a patient woman Aegon, and I do not fear death. So what is your answer? Agree, or I walk away. Your choice"

Aegon was stunned into silence, he couldn't speak and was shocked by everything you just said. Unlike his brother, who now definitely had a smile on his face. Noone had spoken to Aegon like that before, especially someone who was classed as a commoner. And yet...he liked it. Everyone had to call him your grace, they didn't have a choice. And yet, hear you were, a strong willed and independent woman giving HIM rules if he wants to have you work with him. Aemond turned and looked up at his brother.

"I like her, brother"

Aegon laughs.

"As-as do I brother! Ahaha! Oh my! Ahh. You humor me my-oh, what is your name?"

"Y/N"

"Y/N? It's a lovely name......Alright! I'm going to hear you out! By the gods this is a real first! What is it you wish to discuss?"

"I arrived in Kings Landing today, to a member of the Kings Guard trying to cut the hand off someone who attempted to steal an apple"

"Yes? And? That is the penalty for thieves"

"It was a child. No more than 6 years of age. Tell me, how do you allow and justify that?"

Both you and Aemond look up to Aegon, who's face went pale.

"Wait what? Of course that's not the penalty for children"

"Well, according to the guard whom I brought down, a thief is a thief, no matter the age"

Now Aegon was annoyed, he knew about the penalty, but he didn't know about the ages it was allowed on.

"Is what you speak true? That truly, a member of MY Kings Guard tried to cut off the hand of a little boy?!"

"Tried and failed, I wouldn't allow him to do it. The poor boy was starving and simply trying to feed his family. Despite the guard knowing that, he cared not one bit"

"Ok.....do you think you could identify this guard if I were to bring them all forward?"

"Yes, I could"

"Well then, it would seem Y/N...we have reached an agreement. I shall deal with this guard who thought it appropriate to do that, and I shall change the penalty for thieves. Not allowing any harm to come to children. Once that is done, I shall request an audience with you when the guards arrive, I trust through this agreement you shall now work as my guard?"

"If I know my roles and responsibilities, yes"

"I'll allow my brother to fill in the details as I go and summon the Kings Guard. Take her to the council table would you Aemond?"

"Yes your grace"

And just like that, Aegon left the room, where it was now just you and Aemond.

"Come, I shall show you the way"

Now, instead of Aemond walking behind you, you both walk side by side as he took you through the castle. It was enormous, rooms upon rooms, studies, private wings, and much more. He threw open these large doors to a small set of steps, leading to the large rectangular council table. Noone was there for a meeting, so it was just you and Aemond, who was still a complete enigma to you. What was his deal? Why so quiet? And as someone who should be looking out for his brother, shouldn't he take more care in agreeing upon a person to guard his brother? Rather than just agree straight away? He must see a use for you hear, but what was it? He took a seat at the table, as did you.

"Hm...it seems my brother is firm on his decision to have you hear in the castle. Tell me...Y/N...what brought you to Kings Landing?"

"I was under the impression you were told by your brother to bring me hear and discuss my new responsibilities. Some might say your shunning your duties"

There's that little smirk again.

"Hm...I knew there was something about you...the moment I witnessed you walk into the arena, I knew something was about to change"

"Is that right? I'm surprised you could see much of me from so high up in the castle turret"

"I may have been up high, and only have one eye...but I see things my brother clearly doesn't"

"Do you? And what would they be?"

"I see...I see someone who was raised to be strong and independent, something extremely rare these days. Despite commoners thinking otherwise, even royal ladies don't have as much knowledge or skills as you do"

"So you observed my fighting skills? That's what you see of me?"

"I see a woman who has the strength to take on an army...one who won't let anyone stand in her way, no matter the cost...and that was made abundantly clear by the way you spoke to my brother. You know, not even his closest subjects use his name, I myself refer to him as your grace in his presence. But you...hmm...tell me...how were you raised to be this way?"

"Maybe if you ask nicely..."

Smiling at you, you can tell he's loving this interaction with you. To be honest, it's probably the most someone has spoken to him without it being a royal duty.

"...Please...I wish to know your story"

"It's not much of a story. My mother died giving birth to me. I never knew my father, so yes, I'm a bastard. I was raised by my grandmother and taught that nothing should stand in my way, and I shouldn't let innocents of the world suffer when I have a chance to change that"

"So you see yourself as a saviour?"

"No. More like someone who will help the little man if the ones in charge aren't doing that for them. Being a saviour is far different then just being a helpful person"

"And that's how you ended up hear and infront of my brother? Helping the people of Kings Landing"

"It would appear someone's got to do it"

"Hmm...I like your attitude...it intrigues me"

"IT intrigues you?....or me?..."

"Hmm..."

He stands and walks towards the window, looking out to the city below with his hands crossed behind his back.

"Your duties as The Kings personal guard will be to protect The King, The Queen and heir to the throne"

"Heir? As in I'm only to protect one child?"

"I'm afraid there's only one to protect at this time. (Sits back down with you) Are you aware of the assassination upon the heir to the throne? Prince Jaehaerys"

"No? Someone killed a child?!"

"Unfortunately it's true. The perpetrators have been dealt with, and the main culprit who organised it shall pay too. But I'm afraid there is only one child and one baby whome will require your protection, Princess Jaehaera and the young baby Maelor. However, being the personal guard along side Criston means you will be summoned when you are needed, meaning you have free reign about the castle and city before you are"

"So Aegon will summon me when he wants me around? Is that it?"

"Yes, and it could be to stand in the corner when he's in council, or on a trip out of the castle and into the city. You will be paid handsomely in coin and given a room with a securely safe door"

"And when he is not in need of me?"

"You can do as you wish"

"Alright...so I'm not in need now, so I could have a look around the castle if I wanted?"

"You may, or if you'd like I can give you a tour? Saves the possibility of you getting lost"

"This is surprisingly generous of you"

"Which is rare...I don't make a habit of it"

Nodding your head, you think there's no harm in it.

"Alright, I shall take a tour with you, seeing as your being such a gentleman by offering"

"Hmm (mutters under his breath) [This woman seriously thinks I'm a gentleman?]"

Oooh! Now this was going to be fun. Little does he know you have a world of knowledge, including mastering many languages

"[You know, you really shouldn't speak another language under your breath when someone else is in the room. Some might see it as inappropriate...]"

"You...how are you able to speak in high valyrian?"

"I have many skills you haven't seen yet. Learning to master languages across the lands was one of the many things I desired to learn..."

"Ah...I see...[And you can speak high valyrian...just a little?]"

"[Oh no...fluently...]"

"[I say...you truly are growing more and more unique the more we speak...did it take you long to learn the language?]"

"[Not long at all. When it comes to mastery of the tounge, I excel at that and much more...]"

"[I don't doubt that...]"

The conversation is interrupted by the doors swinging open, revealing two soldiers accompanying Aegon.

"Ah! Aemond and Y/N! You both seem happy. I trust my brother has been pleasant company?"

"Yes...very pleasant"

You say, giving Aemond a little smile. The corner of his mouth also shows he feels the same.

"Wonderful! Now Y/N, if you'd like to come with me. I am in need of you"

"Lead the way"

You follow Aegon along side Aemond through the halls of the castle, and back onto the very turret where the Targaryen's and Hightowers were watching you and Criston earlier. Leaning to look over the edge, you see many men all in neat lines, waiting patiently and standing to order.

"Now Y/N, you told me today that one of my Kings Guard had tried to harm a little boy. Is that correct?"

"Yes"

"Good. Now if you look down at all these men, these are all the members of the Kings Guard. I would like you to point out the one whome you witnessed doing this to the boy today"

You take a good look at all the men down in the arena, surprisingly most of them were very similar. But you'd remember this man anywhere. He had very distinguishing features, and there he was right in the middle. Short fluffy blonde hair, short blonde moustache, a scar underneath his left eye and the same red pin on his wrist.

"It's the one in the middle, with the short blonde hair"

"With the red pin and moustache?"

"Yes that's him, without a doubt"

Aegon whispered into the ear of a man who stood beside him, you and Aemond. Then he slipped away and down to the arena.

"Thank you Y/N, now I know who was responsible for this, I can punish him for what he did"

"What is the punishment for trying to do that to a child?"

"I'm not sure, I'll see what I feel like doing when he's in the throne room and at my mercy"

You glance to the side and see two men escort the blonde haired guard into the castle, allowing the other Kings Guard to leave and go about their day.

"Come Y/N! I'd like for you to witness what I'll do with the bastard"

As Aegon starts walking towards the door, Aemond pulls you back slightly by taking your wrist, clearly wanting a word with you in private.

"Is something wrong?"

"No...but I wish to speak with you tonight. If I have your permission to be in your company in your chambers?"

"Ok"

"Thank you"

Once you both had spoken, Aegon leads you both back to the throne room, where upon Aegon sits on the iron throne and watches as the Kings Guard is brought in and made to kneel on both knees before The King.

"Ah Sir Harris! It is Harris right?"

"Yes your grace"

"Wonderful! Now, I have a rather important issue we need to discuss...and you are going to speak the truth to me, are you not?"

"Of course your grace"

".....Today...in the market....did you happen upon a thief?"

"I...I did your grace"

"Ok....what did they steal? And how did you punish them?"

"I uh...they stole an apple your grace. And I was going to give the punishment that was meant for anyone who stole"

"I see...tell me Sir Harris...was the man who stole this apple, a very large man?"

"Your grace?"

"The man who stole? Was he large? Looming? A dangerous figure whome scared the people of the market?"

"I, I think so-"

"Hhsss! Oh dear Sir Harris.....My my, what an impressive bruise you have on your jaw there. Was that from the thief too? Did he put up a good fight?"

"I-uh-uh-yes your grace"

"..........Do you remember what I told you when you entered hear Sir Harris?.....Hmm?....I asked you if you were going to speak the truth, did I not?"

"You-you did-"

"Then WHY!....Are you lying to me? This 'man' whome was supposed to be a thief, was no man....but a child! Wasn't he? Wasn't he?!"

"He-yes, yes he was your grace"

"Why the fuck would you try and cut off the hand of a little boy?! Grown men and women who steal will face a penalty, NOT CHILDREN! What the fuck is the matter with you, that makes you think you can do that?!"

"But-but I thought it was the same for all ages. Anyone who steals-and-and I didn't actually cut off his hand your grace"

"Oh I know! Because this young woman stopped you didn't she?"

Aegon says, pointing to you and Aemond stood in the corner, unbeknown to Harris who hadn't seen you when he entered.

"Wait-what is she doing-"

"She is hear at my request! It would appear a woman whome I've only met today has been more honest and truthful to me, than a member of my own guard!"

"Your grace, that woman is a vile-"

"If you speak one word out of line about this woman, I shall remove your tounge!....So....not only have you lied to my face, but deem it appropriate to verbally attack the same woman who stopped you harming a little boy-"

"The whore doesn't belong hear-! Oh! By the gods I-I didn't mean-"

"I've heard enough....You shall be taken to the dungeons, stripped of your armour and cloak, as you are no longer a member of the Kings Guard. Oh, and did I hear you call her a whore? When I told you NOT to speak one word out of line about her?"

"Your grace-I humbly apologise! Please allow me to make amends-"

"Sir Criston?"

Aegon asks as Criston enters the room.

"Yes your grace"

"Take Sir Harris down to the dungeons. Strip him of his armour and cloak....and it would please me if you take his tounge too"

"Y.....yes your grace"

Criston looked frightened for Harris, but he had to obey the orders of The King. Harris on the other hand, who was now being dragged away kicking and screaming, was far more terrified about his fate, unknowing if he will even survive his ordeal.

Once he was taken away, Aegon approached you, with a little smile on his face.

"In case you thought his punishment was harsh, worry not. It would appear Harris has a reputation for being cruel to the people of Kings Landing. Only last week he was seen by someone, harming a young woman and her sister, and being cruel to anyone he deemed lower than himself. You've done me and the people a great service knocking him down a peg, and telling me about his continuous problems. I am not in need of you right now, you may go about the castle as you see fit, but first, Aemond. Would you be kind enough to show Y/N her new living quarters? It's grown dark and she must be feeling tired"

"Yes your grace"

"Good. I shall see you both at day break"

Aemond walked you out of the throne room and a long way through the castle halls, to a long corridor. He swung the door open to reveal a small living quarters. A table laden with fruits and wine, a window overlooking the city that lead to a balcony, a bathing room to the side, and behind another door, the bedroom. With a rather large bed, covered in fine silks, soft sheets and pillows.

"I trust this is adequate for you?"

"More than adequate. I've not slept in a bed this large before, it will certainly make for a good sleep"

"Hmm...if I may bring up what I asked you earlier, I wish to speak with you tonight, hear, in your chambers. Is that something you still wish to happen?"

"If you still want to talk to me, yes. If you give me 1 hour, I shall be ready for company"

"Very well...I will return shortly"

And just like that, with a turn and a whip of his white hair, he leaves your chambers, allowing you to lock it and have some privacy. It didn't take long for you to settle in, infact, you very much enjoyed the space. You were a traveller, going from place to place, sleeping in tavers, on floors and spare beds in random places. Now you have your own space to call your own for as long as you wished, it felt nice, almost homely. It kind of reminded you of your chambers you had back with your grandmother, upstairs from the brothal. Despite what some might think, it was actually quite comfortable, and you barely heard the men and women downstairs. About an hour later, you had eaten and drank, and were sat to the table with the window open to the night sky, book of Targaryen history in your hands. That's when a knock came at the door. You stand to open it, and see Aemond once again, waiting to be allowed in

"May I come in?"

"You may"

He comes inside to see where you were previously sat, reading a book on Targaryen history.

"I see you have a fondness to learn about the royal bloodline"

"Not necessarily (you sit to the table, followed by Aemond) it was one of the first books that jumped out to me when I was looking over the bookcase"

"I've read the very same book you have before you, many years ago"

"But, I'm guessing you had to read it as part of your role as Prince?"

"While that is correct, it was actually by my own choice. I may be the youngest brother, but I was the one who took interest in our families history, learning how to fight and how to speak correctly at court"

"Are you implying that your brother doesn't take his role as King seriously?"

"He does not care for the throne. I'm quite suprised I don't see him sneek off to the brothal every evening"

"This....is interesting"

"What is?"

"That you've known me for what? A day at most? And yet you sit hear with me, a commoner and discuss issues you have with your own blood. Either your dangerously trustworthy to people too soon, or your trying to see if I would do anything to your brother or anyone else with Targaryen blood whome resides in Kings Landing"

"While those are two very clever guesses, I'm afraid neither are correct"

"Or so you say"

"Hmm...I speak to you tonight, and about my brother for a reason Y/N"

"And what would that be Aemond?"

"........It's my mother"

"Your mother? Lady Alicent Hightower? What could you possibly want to discuss with me about your mother?"

"Not quite a discussion, more of a warning"

"Are you suggesting I should be fearful of your mother?"

"In a sence..."

He stands and walks to your open window, hands behind his back, then faces you.

"As you are aware and have seen yourself, women hear in Kings Landing are not quite seen as people. Many women are used to create heirs, strengthen bloodlines or....gain power. The only woman I know whose had a taste of such power was my mother. She took on responsibilities while my father was dying, and believe it went to hear head. She herself shunned Princess Rhaenyra when she tried to claim the throne and now I fear she may want to corrupt my brother to control him, taking any power she can"

"So what's that got to do with me?"

"She was not best pleased when she witnessed you in the arena. She saw what she couldn't be, what she isn't strong enough to be. A woman with freedom, who speaks her mind, damned the consequences. And the fact that my brother has shown a fondness too you, will definitely burn her from the inside"

"Not to mention that her other son likes to take private moments with me in the dead of night"

"...Hmm...My mother does not control me, no matter how hard she tries. If I wish to speak to a lovely woman in my own time then I shall..."

"Lovely woman?"

"Hmm...would you not agree?"

"I'm just a little suprised that, after seeing me literally fight a man, speak to your brother like he was no more than a boy on a chair, and not bat an eye when a guard was told he would have his tounge removed....why you would use the word lovely to describe me is most peculiar"

"I live with women all around me, whome have never defended or stood up for themselves in their lives. They roll over like dogs. But you....you fascinate me....I've met no other woman like you...[Case in point that you have more knowledge about high valyrian than my own brother does]"

He says, sitting back down to the table infront of you.

"[I like to train my brain like it were a weapon. Just as I have mastered many blades over the years]"

"[Including your tounge?]"

"[You think of my tounge as a blade?]"

"[It's as sharp as any other...]"

Was he complementing you? It certainly seemed like it, and with that look...you couldn't deny it was rather attractive.

"You must be tired from your long day Y/N, I shall leave you to rest now (stands up from chair) I hope you have a pleasant evening....and I will enjoy waiting for our next interaction..."

He slowly walks back to the door, pulls one handle back when you speak to him.

"Enjoy waiting for me Aemond? You know...with the way you have spoken and looked at me this evening, one might think you were being almost...playful...teasing even...a woman could get the wrong impression if your not careful"

"Or maybe this woman has guessed correctly of my possible interest?..."

There's that little smirk of his....yes he was! He was actually flirting with you, wasn't he?

"Have a pleasant sleep...Y/N..."

He said in a smooth tone, closing the door behind him. Wow! That was one hell of a day! Arriving in Kings Landing to an absolute asshole trying to hurt a little boy, helping out a poor family, fighting and winning against The Commander of the Kings Guard, having The King take a liking to you, being offered a job in the castle, having your own space and.....and Aemond...what was it about him? And why would he be so easy to talk to, considering how hard faced he is towards most of the people he sees. You had heard about him growing up, and about how he lost his eye, yet he gained the largest known dragon in the lands. Your grandmother knew a lot about the Targaryen history considering she neither lived or knew anyone there...as far as you were aware. And there was something else that was bugging you too, why did Aegon think you have a little Targaryen in you? You've had people say this to you before when you were little, with the white streak and the one violet eye...but now The King saw this...you actually started to doubt yourself and your history for a moment. Your grandmother never told you where she was from, and she had white hair, quite like the Targaryen's. Was she?...No, no, today was just too long for you and you clearly needed to rest. This must have just been your brain getting all worked up over nothing. So you wash up, and get snuggled up into bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. With the last thought in your mind being Aemond....and what could future interactions with him lead too?

The next few days went quite quickly, you took to your role as The Kings personal guard very seriously, and did accompany Aegon when he wished for your presence. To be honest, he didn't actually need you a lot of the time, which gave you ample opportunities to explore the castle and grounds, to the city, and even visit the family you met on your first day hear. The mother was doing well and was already back on her feet, just taking it easy. Her son and daughter were very sweet and drew you a picture to say thank you for your generosity, it was so kind of them, and you told them you would treasure it. The more the days passed, the more you learned about The King, his subjects and the issues with the war, and you couldn't deny you were a little on the fence about it all. At times when you find yourself on your own, alone with your thoughts, one person would come and keep you company, Aemond. It was as if he was watching you, because any time you felt lost or alone, he was always near by. Your conversations were still very similar to the night he came to your chambers, accept a little more amorous. He was definitely growing more confident around you, and you him, but you couldn't help but feel there was something about him you couldn't figure out. He was so mysterious. You found yourself growing very fond of him, maybe even like him. One evening, you were sat on the balcony of the main castle wing, reading a book with a glass of wine, when all of a sudden the doors of the main hall swing open as Aegon and a few of his friends all laugh and stumble in, completely drunk. Aegon laughed right before he saw you sitting quietly.

"Aha! Y/N! What ever are you doing reading a book? Come! Drink with us!"

"Are you drunk?"

"Pfftt! Am I drunk?! Well (hickup) of course! I'm having fun with my friends! Will you join us?!"

"While that's kind, I'll pass"

"Oh come on! Your such a sourpuss! Just like my brother. He REALLY wasn't happy when I saw him tonight. You know-you know he was SO embarrassed when I saw him tonight, all curled up like a little kitten!"

"Uh? What?"

"Oh! Did I not say? We (hickup) we found Aemond in the brothal! Curled up with the whore he lost his virginity too! What a wimp! Aemond The Fierce! Haha!"

"W-wait what?! You just walked in on him? Why?"

"Why not?! I was after a whore and found Aemond! I couldn't help but laugh at him! He was so vulnerable! I asked him-I-I-asked him, if he fucked her like a hound! Oh he's so ridiculous"

"Are you...are you serious right now? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Wh-what?"

"How could you be so spiteful and cruel to your own little brother?! He's been loyal to you and you treat him like that?"

"He's MY brother, I can speak to him any way I wish"

"Wow...you really are a cunt aren't you?"

His friends, who were equally drunk were shocked, and gasped at what you said.

"You-what did you call me?"

"A CuNT! You deserve to be called one with how you behave, and to your own brother no less! Your horrible Aegon. And I'd rather spend my time in the presence of a real man, not some overgrown boy wearing a metal hat that's CLEARLY too big for him!"

"Hey-w-wait! Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but in your presence!"

And that was the last thing you said before storming out of the hall and slamming the door behind you. You did not care one bit that you called The King a cunt, he deserved it! How could he do this to Aem-! Oh my god, Aemond! He must be feeling so upset about what happened tonight, should you go to him?

Link to part 2

[head---ache]

hello im going to talk about my non fankid oc's because i feel like i talk too much about my children (sorry) and too little about my other characters and i know probably no one cares but fuck you/lh im going to force you to care/j

Tools the Chinchilla (she/they) is the oldest character in the group! (Ironically age wise they're the youngest, being 14). They're an anti hero, of sorts?? But I think a better way to describe her is just a silly chinchilla doing her own thing, not caring about anyone else. They really just care about what they have going on and are going to do whatever they need to get things done. She does not care about relationships at all, and only tries to get closer to someone if it benefits her. They're a investigator/scientist, mostly studying about chaos, so you can guess how that leads her to follow the main cast around, trying to act all friendly to get info out of them (but everyone knows she doesn't actually like them because she's really bad at acting). She also has a very big ego, and constantly compares herself to characters like Tails of Eggman, pushing them both down although she's not really an inventor, unless she needs something specific.

Prince the Peacock (he/him) is my boy!!! I love his concept. He has hypnotic powers thanks to his feathers, and he also cares a lot about his looks. He's very sophisticated, but also very high energy and friendly (he can be a little too much, in fact). He's also a bit naive, but that's mostly because he usually sees the best in people, and believes anyone can be good if he's just nice enough. He sees himself and Tools as best friends, even though she can't stand him, he just thinks they're shy. He's a little bit too scared of everything, but after being saved by the Resistance during the war he feels like he needs to do his part, so he's actually quite brave and very usually pushes himself out of his comfort zone.

Ferocity the Spider (she/her) seems to be somewhat of a fan favorite, and I think that might be thanks to her goth lolita fashion and the fact that she's a spider, definitely not something seen in the Sonic franchise. She's a full on villain, and is que agressive. She has all of the abilities spiders commonly have, but I can't get more specific than that. I'm way too scared of spiders and could only use drawings as reference for her design, so I didn't actually take the time to decide what kind of spider she is bskdbskfnskx She has every move calculated, and takes everything into account, she's very careful and methodic, but, like I said, when she needs to, she can get very agressive and scary. She's also very closed off and untrustful, so while she does have someone she works with (more on that later), she usually prefers to do things herself, just to make sure.

Joy the Horse (she/her) is a total sweetie. She's very shy and quiet, but has the biggest heart ever. She's a baker!!! And has her own bakery:) she sometimes brings some of her baked goods to Restoration HQ because some of her friends are there. She's softspoken and kind, but don't look down on her! She can kick you over the next city if she needs to>:) usually in defense, not in offense. She doesn't fight often, but if her or someone she cares about is involved she goes all out trying to help. Also Joy is the only one Tools tries to be friends with, but that's because they want free food. Joy knows this, and yet she still pretends she doesn't see when the chinchilla sneaks a cookie into their pocket.

Torch the Angler Fish (they/them) is Ferocity's right hand!!! Mostly just the dumb henchman in cartoons. They're way too energetic and impulsive, which is why Ferocity usually has to hold them down. They normally do the dirty work; if they need to fight, Torch will do it while Ferocity watches from the shadows and only interferes if needed. Torch, of course, has a little light that can lure people closer to them, and they often hide in the shadows, to then attack by surprise. They enjoy scaring people, they're a bit of an asshole lol. I said Ferocity is agressive, and yet, Torch is the most agressive of the two, which makes them a bit more scary.

Index the Secretary Bird (she/her) is a cute girly who works for the Restoration as, you guessed it, a secretary. I imagine she was friends with Jewel, and when she saw how much work the beetle had, she decided to step in and help. She's also very methodic, and strict. She actually was a librarian before she joined the Restoration, so you can be sure she has outstanding organization skills. She's a bit unexpressive, and distant, but definitely not mean, and if you manage to get close to her you'll have a friend who will give you the best advice and will listen to you with all of her attention!! She also has some knowledge in first aids, so when needed she also helps in that area.

And yeah that's that the fankids get too much attention so these guys also needed a post dedicated to talking about them tehee

[nightingale2004]

Harry Potter next gen: Dudley Dursley vers.

Hazel Fern Dursley

Faceclaim: Isabella Sermon

Hazel is the daughter of Dudley and Eleonor Dursley. She is also their second child

Hazel has an older sister named Heather Petunia Dursley and a kid sister named Daisy Poppy Dursley

Looks more like her mom with a mix of her dad

Before Hazel and her sisters were born, Dudley and Harry reconnected after the war at Hogwarts, where they, over the years, got a bit closer, and they even attended each other's weddings

Dudley also got to meet the Weasley clan briefly

When Hazel first started showing signs that she was magic, it was at the age of 6, and she started making things float, come alive, and/or explode out of nowhere

Dudley had an idea of what was happening and invited Harry into his home, where he confirmed Dudley's suspicions that Hazel was, in fact a witch

Eleanor was more surprised than Dudley. She knew some of Dudley's family history along with some of Harry's and knew that Lily was a witch and she was a muggle, but both Eleanor and Dudley thought Hazel would be pure muggle

Harry explained everything and tried his best to give as much information about the Wizarding world as he could, along with information about Hogwarts to help them be prepared for what happens when Hazel reaches the age of 11 without overwhelming them completely

Harry also tried to keep his adventures in Hogwarts to himself since he didn't want to worry his cousin and his wife more than they already were and he would assure them that his children, nieces, nephews, and Teddy would watch over her so she wouldn't be alone

Dudley and his wife Eleonor took in the information the best they could, but it wasn't easy.

They were extremely worried about Hazel entering a new world that they had no experience in and were secretly dreading the day the letter for Hogwarts would come

When the letter did come, Harry personally delivered it. Hazel was extremely nervous, while her parents tried their best to smile and support her, but they were just as nervous as their daughter was (and it showed)

Before Hazel went to Hogwarts, her mom made her promise to keep them updated weekly with bumches of letters telling them everything, and her dad was just praying that Hazel would fit in and make friends

After Hazel went into Hogwarts, she was sorted into Hufflepuff

Before Hogwarts, Hazel felt very close to her parents and sisters, but after she started at Hogwarts, she started feeling estranged from her own family

Hazel considered her and her big sister Heather as thick as thieves, but after Hogwarts, they started drifting apart, and Hazel even heard Heather talk bad about her with her muggle friends saying how she went to a school for "special" kids

Hazel even noticed that when she would come home for break and she would show what she learned, her parents would be uncomfortable and even startled to the point where she stopped talking to them about Hogwarts or anything witchcraft related

The only person in her family who would want to see her magic would be Daisy, her kid sister

But that didn't help Hazel's feelings of insecurities and indifference

Hazel even got depressed to the point where she would spend more time with her cousins than with her parents or sisters. She would even stay over for a few days.

She also started hating being a witch and wished every day that she was normal so that her family wouldn't see her as a freak

This went on for almost 2 years until Harry, Hermione, and Petunia came in and fixed things (yes, Petunia is still alive. Rip to Vernon)

Harry and Hermione talked some sense into Dursley, and Petunia talked some sense into Heather

When Petunia got news, one of her granddaughters was a witch, shocked would have been an understatement of how she felt. But after some time, she learned that she never loved her granddaughter Hazel any less

When Petunia saw what was happening between Heather and Hazel, it reminded her of herself and Lily, and that relationship was the last thing she wanted for her granddaughters, so she decided to fix it (and it worked)

Little by little, Hazel and her family started settling into a new rhythm. She slowly tells them everything that's been going on at Hogwarts that she didn't say

Hazel and Heather have grown a new and strong sister bond along with Daisy

The Dursley's even started visiting Harry and getting to know more of the Wotter clan

Hazel has become extremely close with James, Teddy, Lily, Albus, Freddie, and Victoire

Hazel has also developed a love for herbology, potions, history of magic, charms, DADA, transfiguration, care for magical creatures, and divination

Her patronus is a Panda

Hazel is also very close with her uncle Harry and Hermione

There are still times when she still feels insecure and scared because she also knows about her uncle Harry's childhood living with the Dursley's, but her whole families support is enough to keep the bad thoughts at bay

Hermione and Eleonor are working together to start up homes for muggle witches and wizards who don't have a good home life, were kicked out or no home at all since not every muggle wizard or witch is as fortunate

[queenaeducan]

six song soundtrack

tagged by @inquisimer & @pickelda

If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End credits song

This one goes out to Thora Cadash! Brief explanations under the cut.

Eat Your Young by Hozier

Q.U.E.E.N. by Janelle Monae

Our Lady of the Underground from Hadestown

Heroes by David Bowie

Sleeping Giants by The Crane Wives

Hammering Heart by John Mark McMillan

An event that defines your character's past.

Come and get some Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

Thora joined the Carta at a young age, destroying parts of herself (and her childhood) to make a living with one of the few paths open to her. It also comes to reflect how she feels about her own lyrium smuggling, the preying they do upon addicts or exploiting free mages for coin.

How your character sees themselves

Hey sister, am I good enough for your heaven? Say will your God accept me in my black and white? Will he approve the way I'm made? Or should I reprogram, deprogram and get down?

A big reason this is on her playlist tbh is "vibes" and "b/c i like it" BUT. One of Thora's struggles in Inquisition is becoming accepted for who she is, in all her oddities and idiosyncrasies, while also being the face of a quasi-religious movement. Q.U.E.E.N. I think speaks to her successes on that front, and the questions she asks in the exploration of those ideas.

How others view them

Wipe away your tears brother Brother, I know how you feel I can see you're blinded by the sadness of it all But look a little closer and Everything will be revealed

I admittedly struggled with this one, and I'm still not entirely happy with the choice because the themes of Hadestown as a musical don't align with what I have in mind for her story. That being said, Thora is deified and idolised by many, so a song sung by a goddess is fitting. Like Persephone, she is associated with the underworld and the world of the living, a return to normalcy, even if that isn't what she necessarily provides.

Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)

We can be heroes Just for one day We can be heroes

This was my tag for Solas and Thora on my rp blog for her even before the trailer used a cover of it. It doesn't really take a lot of the original meaning of the song into account, but I do think it speaks to their friendship. Like a) Thora has done things that she thinks are wrong (keeping Celene around, drinking from the Well) but doesn't think it means tomorrow she can't make the right choice and b) she thinks the same can be true for Solas. They CAN be heroes!!! Thank u.

A major fight scene

I feel the mountains I feel the mountains shifting under me The sleeping giants Are finally waking, waking finally My pulse is clear, rushing in my ears I hear something calling me

This, to me, is the Corypheus fight song at the end. Thora does The Descent before the end of the game because I Do What I Want, so she goes into the game knowing that the Stone is real. It's beneath her feet, it's over their heads, larger than them both. She's been to Cadash Thaig. She knows her ancestors, now, and the things they did to keep the people they loved safe. She isn't the woman desperate to survive Haven's onslaught, and she's read to face her enemy head-on.

End credits song

The force of the sun Pounds the earth asunder The torch of her strength None can escape Like the hammering heart of The Maker

A low-key song which sings about really loud, awe-inspiring things that just fits Thora well and is a good song to lead out out!

Tagging: @dreadfutures, @nomorecaffeineforyou, @theshirallen, @valorcorrupt, @salesmain