#female cartographers

[narcan-necromancer]

#music #color blind #colorblind #cartographer #pop punk #female vocalist #Spotify

[queers-gambit]

The Battle Above the God’s Eye

part one: Sands of Time

prompt: decades after the Stepstones, it's his turn to be rescued.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.

warnings: reader isn't explicitly a Targaryen but we had to make this work and i'm burnt the fuck out. so fuck it, dragon rider reader. cursing, books spoilers, violence, imagination required, maybe Red Priestess reader, mention of more Little Birds (let author live), toxic family (duh), heavily encouraged imagination, depictions of death, angst, some hurt and comfort i think ? missing warnings 'cause wonky brain goin' wonky.

"There's rumor, Mistress, of a dragon the color of night," the hooded figure informed. "It nests in the Ruins of Ancient Valyria, seen by farmers and countryfolk; they say his wings beat like thunder. It's a colossal shadow they fear to engage, but after hearing your ransom, they reported it."

You hummed as you took a sip of scalding tea, finding comfort in the heat, musing, "I've been to the Ruins myself on two seperate excursions, I promise you, friend, there is no dragon that nests there."

"It's come from the East, a new beast in the sky."

"I require proof if I am to pay the ransom."

The man with a hood over his head reached for his rucksack and rummaged, a moment later, placing two items on the polished mahogany table between you both. One was unmistakably a dragon's tooth, and when you examined it, there was still clotted blood on the root - assuring it was a fresh pull. The second was a large black scale that weighed at least a dagger's worth.

You smirked, "This is promising. Where in the Ruins has it been seen? Who procured these artifacts?"

You discussed specifics with the man for an hour, offering him a hefty finder's fee after getting the name of the village the man had gathered his own information from. It was a messy journey from there; leaving the home you had made in the decades since the Stepstones to head for what was probably another dead end in Ancient Valyria. You were something akin to a magistrate, the people saw you as a figurehead, a leader; their person of authority who they were all too happy to follow.

Your village flourished, growing in size, number, popularity, and strength by the passing day. The people seemed happy, wealth flowing from exports and trade, and apparently, a few cartographers have begun the process of updating a few maps to add your village's name to history.

Much had changed in your time away from your Rogue Dragon Prince, but you knew that was all coming to an end soon. Your Lord of Light had shown you much in your flames, one of which was a repeating image of you, mounted atop a dragon all your own, soaring over the Narrow Sea with distinct purpose. You weren't a Targaryen, but your religious devotion seemingly gave you the ability to walk amongst beasts and their flames.

Exploring Ancient Valyria took over a year on foot.

You had plenty of encounters with the Stone Men, but all met their merciful demise - those left after that steered clear of you and your Valyrian Steel sword. Around the ruins of the ancient volcano that hadn't erupted since The Doom, you found a graveyard of goat, sheep, and cattle bones. There were bigger skeletons of aquatic creatures, something you found incredibly fascinating - what fully grown dragon went deep diving?

Soon, you found scat. For those who don't spend time in the wilderness or who are simply unfamiliar with the term, "scat" refers to waste produced by wild animals. Yeah, you're reading correctly, after you found the plethora of skeletons, you found dragon shit.

So, you knew you were closer than before. But the fucker still alluded you to the point you felt insane circling the Ruins.

You located about three different potential caverns, investigating them all with caution, but finding them all empty. Feeling exhausted from the months of searching, you claimed one of the caves as your own; hunting for a meal after gathering adequate fire wood. You listened to the untamed wilds of Valyria as you ate whatever you roasted, trying to distinguish familiar sounds of an approaching dragon.

Or perhaps even a distant one!

You'd take any sign!

It'd been weeks since you found the dragon droppings, no other signs appearing. You would search new areas for days, then return to your cave for rest; feeling disconnected from reality the longer you lingered in the ruined empire. You wondering what your village was doing, you were curious if the young woman, Ferona, had a baby boy or girl, if they had erected the new buildings you left blueprints for in an effort to create opportunist housing and houses of worship - as your people had requested.

How did the krill and shrimp season fair? What weddings happened this past spring? How was the irrigation system holding up?

Weeks drug by slowly. Weeks turned to longer months. Two years, you spent in that Gods forsaken ruin of a city - but couldn't find it in you to abandon your search.

Your Lord of Light had yet to send word, yet set your heart ablaze every time you "decided" to go home. You stared into the flames every night, desperate for any indication you were on the right path, but nothing was seen - nothing was said - nothing was shown to you. Until one night, during a torrential downpour and thunderous storm, you were shivering, drenched to your core, fighting the wind to let you keep your flames alive.

And there, in the dying, flickering warmth, you saw it. With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared into the flames harder; unsure how long you remained in the tranquil state before a particularly strong gust of wind nearly pushed you face-first into the embers. You gasped, looking around as the smoke nearly choked you as it filled the cave; stumbling out into the rain as you coughed and patted your chest. Stumbling slightly from malnourishment and delirium, you leaned on the outer shell of your "home", panting with relief before there came a screech so fearsome, you were then cowering into the wall with fear.

You dropped to your knees, huddled into the rock formation; the ground trembling as something enormous touched down. You gasped when through the haze of sideways rain, two nostrils flared and heaved thick plumes of smoke; reddened from the ignited flames deep within an invisible chest. You flattened against the wall, four taloned paws striking the ground and causing it to crack, quake, and tremble. With the fleeting clouds, you used the moon's light to distinguish the beast that loomed closer to you; over you; and then, in your face.

A long, blackened snout nearly pressed into your chest; fabric of your tunic caught in the razor sharp teeth. You had faced death, you had faced beasts, you had faced hacking axes and swinging swords. You had faced the wrath of the Queen Alysanne's court, the rumors of the common folk, and judgment from both man and God. But nothing was like this moment: a wild dragon staring you down, sniffing your chest and stomach, debating if it should just open it's mouth and eat you whole yet or not.

Thankfully, it chose an alternative route.

You're not fully sure how it happened, but you dedicated two years to finding this terrible beasty, and yet, it only took about 6 weeks to bond with the (obviously) young thing. Time with your Dragon Prince proved most useful, creating a bond so secure, you were beginning to wonder if someone deep in your bloodline had mated with a Targaryen. It was natural, the way you both became accustomed to one another; living together on a carbon-dated land long doomed.

The lessons from Daemon came flying back to you. You practiced your High Valyrian, laughing when you obviously got a word or two wrong because the dragon would snort at you. In the light, she was still the color of the night, but her scales were dusted the same gold as her eyes. She was impressive, she was huge in size but nowhere near Vhagar. In fact, you'd wager she had outgrew Caraxes - the only dragon you had true experience with.

Speaking of Caraxes, you were on the shores of Old Valyria, debating how you were going to convince your new companion to join you back "home" in the village, when suddenly, your beast gave a defensive growl.

Looking to the skyline, you spotted the distant dragon and frowned. This dragon wasn't the color of flames like Caraxes was, no, instead, it was a murky blob in the sky with two wings. You offered calming words to your dragon in her native language, not sensing danger, but your beast was unhappy leaving you in the open. Her tail curled around you to corral you back into her body as the muddy brown dragon landed with a thunderous shake a respectable distance away.

Your name was begged by the rider descending from who you recognized as a wild dragon by the name of Sheepstealer.

"Nettles? That you, love?" You asked in skepticism, managing out of your dragon's grasp. "What're you doing here? You all right?"

"I needed to find you," she panted. "I-I need you help - it's all - it's all gone wrong! Please!"

"What's wrong? The fuck's happened?"

"Do you know nothing, Auntie!? Do you know nothing of the war!?"

Your eyes rolled, "Watch that tone with me, girl. The Dance of Dragons is of no concern of mine, it had barely started when I came here."

"Well - it's your concern now," she insisted. "You took me under your wing - you helped raise me in a village you built from the ground, despite not ever needing to - "

"Your mother was a dear friend of mine," you cut her off sharply. "She was kind to me when I came back to Essos, let me stay with her and your father. When I set out on my own, she was always a friendly face, and when my settlement was established..."

"She came to you for help after getting pregnant with me," Nettles nodded. "You've told me this before."

"Then you should know better by now that I owed your mother more than my life, so, raising you was the least I could've done. A life for a life."

"And as such, you let me go into the world with stories filling my head of a handsome Dragon Prince that saved you from the Crabfeeder!" You scoffed at her words, ready to argue, but she rushed, "He's in trouble, Auntie."

You paused, finding no lie in the girl's eye. Slowly, you asked, "Come again?"

"I found him, Mistress," she nodded. "After I got back to Westeros, I found your Prince Daemon - the ones from the stories! He's... He's brutish and harsh, they call him Rogue, but he was kind to me when I told him I knew you. When he heard your name, Lady, he just - he insisted on keeping me close. He protected me, even against his wife - Princess Rhaenyra."

Your head cocked, "Hmm... He usually did have a taste for younger flesh. I'm not surprised he took to you - "

"No, no, no, Mistress, not like that," she insisted desperately. "He was kind, educational - similar to a mentor."

"I see."

"He needs your help."

"Prince Daemon does not need rescuing, he is no damsel."

"He searches for Prince Aemond," she informed, making you lift your chin slightly. Though lost in the wild of Valyria the past two years, you were still well versed in the affairs of King's Landing; staying updated, curtesy of your Lord, the Lord of Light: R'hllor. In your village, you were known to pay for any accurate information - eventually hiring your own spies to relay trustworthy information from around surrounding cities and villages. Nettles was one of your Little Birds.

You sighed, "And? What of it - Aemond killed Lucerys, did he not? Since he married his niece, her children are now his step-children, right? Daemon is within his rights to want some form of vengeance - it's war, Nettie, it's never fair to anybody.

"He will not survive this, you don't understand! It's horrible, Mistress, please, he-he-he's deranged. Mad with grief, lost to his wife's useless fucking war. It'll be the death of him, Auntie, please!" She paused, seeing you just stare back at her; so she begged again, "Please!"

You nodded, "What do you want me to do, Nettie? Hmm?"

"You've told me those stories! I remember them well! You always said he came back for you, saved you from The Crabfeeder," she reminded, making you stiffen. "Does he not deserve the same? Or at least a chance? Rhaenyra will not help, she'll kill him herself I fear, but you can - you can help!"

You nodded, "I will consult the flames - "

"I am telling you - "

"I have heard you, girl!" You snapped, glaring at your Little Bird. "But there are greater forces at work than what you know, I cannot just so willfully trust the word of a child before flying off across the Narrow Sea. Allow me my time with my Lord, I will have an answer for you." Turning from her, you gathered whatever materials you could; setting it up in a small teepee before stepping back.

In High Valyrian, you gave your command. From over your shoulder, your beasty opened her mouth and shot a single flame at the structure.

On your knees, you muttered repeatedly; chanting, summoning your Lord of Light to come to you now in a great hour of need. And He did. Through the flames, you saw what R'hllor wanted to show you: the two Princes engaged in a brutally epic fight that would claim them both in the end...

Unless you left right that moment, as your Lord commanded.

"Make yourself safe, Nettles, go back home," you told her in a rush, catching the pouch of Gold Dragons she tossed you when you sprung into action - and for the first time, mounted your dragon. Like your minds were connected, the Great Shadow took to the sky - leaving Nettles and Sheepstealer behind, and you'd never see either again.

You remained high in the sky, being a blob to the naked eye should any dare to stare at the sun.

You only paused to let the Great Shadow dive into the Narrow Sea for a meal; surfacing with creatures in her jaws as you swam an exhausting broad stroke. Was it terrifying to swim in the open water? Absolutely, but your dragon seemingly kept any threats at bay. When she was satisfied with her meal, the Great Shadow scooped you onto her back and relaunched into the air again to continue your flight for Westeros. You both dried in the air.

The trip was draining.

It was grueling on you both.

Yet when you saw the distant shore, you couldn't help the spike of relief in your heart and veins.

Once in Westeros, you were forced to ground yourselves in the open area of the Stormlands because you needed to know where to go since Nettles hadn't been sure where to send you specifically. Using the usual thunderstorm as cover, you had to separate from the Great Shadow; leaving her in the dark as you ventured to the closest village.

With the pouch of Gold Dragons Nettles gave you, you paid for information that you needed. You were told all the nitty gritty details about the Dance of the Dragons that you've missed, understanding what (Nettles and) the Lord of Light had been trying to tell you for years: the Black Queen would be Prince Daemon's death.

The time had come for you to return his favor from the Stepstones. If this worked the way you wanted it to, you wouldn't be his first, second, nor third wife, but his fourth and final. You knew what you had to do.

"What do you know of their whereabouts?" You asked the innkeeper who wiped down the bar you leaned on.

"The Princes?" She asked, tisking right after. "The One Eyed Prince has been burning the Riverlands for almost two weeks now. The Rogue Prince was in Maidenpool but he's called his nephew to meet him at, uh, oh... Oh, bullocks, what's that haunted castle? The one that was torched?"

"Harrenhal?"

She snapped her fingers at you, "That's the one!"

"Fuckin' Hell," you muttered, wiping your eyes. "What's your thinking, love? 'Bout this war?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Stupidest thing I've endured so far. How silly, the House of the Dragon does not know who rules it, or so says our liege lord. So we must all pay their price in Fire and Blood."

You nodded slowly, "Who do you think holds the better claim t'the Throne?"

"Depends on your views," she muttered, "but in truth, it doesn't matter to me - so long as this all comes to an end. But between us?" She leaned in, glancing around before muttering, "The Bitch Queen would burn us all. Can't say if King Aegon would be much better, but at least we'd know what we were dealing with."

"And if he was another Maegor?"

"Can't be worse than the Black Queen. Hear they call her Maegor with Tits."

You smirked, chuckling lightly, "Thank you, ma'am, for your words." You offered her a few Gold Dragons, repeating, "Harrenhal?"

"Harrenhal," she nodded, accepting the payment. "I do not know if the One Eyed Prince will answer the Rogue Prince's challenge, but that is where he lures Prince Aemond - Harrenhal. Now, how's about a nice bowl of stew? You look drenched, love, and a bit skinny - you been eatin'?"

"Your kindness is refreshing in this shit-for-a-kingdom."

You winked at her and tapped the bar in parting before turning for the door, and into the rain you ventured once more. You didn't notice the cold, your Lord kept you warm and moving; finding the Great Shadow, mounting, and shooting off into the unknown sky again.

It wasn't easy directing a dragon without a saddle nor any stabilizing reins, yet your beast was something of a decently smooth fly. You minimally directed her as you went, but in truth, her instincts directed you both more than anything. When the storm broke, you were soon flying over charred scores of land; homes smoldering and burning, the wind spreading the embers and never letting the fire fully die out.

"The fuck..." You muttered, sitting up straight as you flew through the carnage. "Seven Hells, he burnt it all, didn't he?" You whispered, needing to hold onto the spinal ridges of your dragon to keep balanced. "Gods be good," you gaped at the damage beneath you.

The sun moved into position, getting ready to set when you heard the horrible screams of feuding dragons. You couldn't see Harrenhal yet, but you heard the fight, and then, as the sun began to set, there came flashes of bright firelight that lit the sky to a new level.

It was nearly the shade of daylight with the way the flames danced against the setting sun. You were desperate to get closer, and after directing the Great Shadow over a set of charred rolling hills, you finally had Harrenhal in sight. "Go! Go, please! That's them - we need t'get there!" You begged through a small sob of panic, and if possible, your dragon flew all the faster.

You were so close, yet felt so far.

The air trembled when the pair of dragons, Vhagar and Caraxes, collided in the sky once more. They grappled and snarled and shrieked and blew flames and gnashed their teeth and slashed their talons. You paid no mind to the pregnant woman standing on the shoreline of the lake they fought over, and instead, focused on your task; feeling as if you were moving on pure instinct and adrenaline.

The Great Shadow dove low to the lake's surface as Caraxes and Vhagar came barreling to the ground. It all happened too fast. As the two dragons fell, you saw one man - in black armor - leap from his crimson beast with his Valyrian sword winking in the dying light. Just as his arm extended to pierce Dark Sister into Aemond's blind eye, the dragons were tussling enough to turn over and forced Daemon off their hide.

You gasped as you reacted - no fucking thought to your actions.

As the Great Shadow glided over the surface of the Gods Eye lake, you were leaping off her back to launch into the air; tackling the Rogue Prince hard enough to disrupt his impact on the water's surface. You hit the water all the same, but instead of it being like hitting fresh pavement, it was a softer landing due to the Great Shadow's expert and quick maneuvering.

Two dragons hit the water, three human bodies; sending a wave of water higher than the towers of Harrenhal's fortress. It was a shock to land in something so wet and cold, but your adrenaline was stronger than any feeling of freezing water. Your arms kept an iron-clad lock around Daemon's unconscious waist, surfacing as the lake rippled and churned from impact; turning a seeping red from the open wounds on the dragon sinking into the depths.

Prince Aemond never surfaced, and years from now, he'd be found still chained to Vhagar's saddle with Dark Sister still stabbed through his skull. His Red Witch standing on shore couldn't save him, it appearing that your Lord preferred the Rogue Prince to the One Eyed.

Keeping Daemon afloat was difficult, but to your shock, you were being gently propelled forward to the shore by a fatally injured Caraxes. You encouraged him best you could, trying not to choke on the water splashing around your frantic forms. When you were able, you started heaving and dragging Daemon up the lake's embankment; the crimson dragon crawling out of the lake behind you, slowly, heading towards Harrenhal. You wanted to offer the loyal beast aid or comfort, but you were much too preoccupied with his master that was dead weight in the water's surf.

You trembled as you swiftly hoisted his dragon winged helmet off to leave bobbing in the surf; unhooked his armor, shucking it off him and compressing his chest rapidly - just like a fisherman taught you to do.

"C'mon," you grunted. "C'mon, Daemon, breathe - fucking breathe, damnit! Please, come back to me - don't do this. I just found you again, c'mon, my Prince, breathe. Breathe, Daemon, don't give up - not now, not on us! Don't give up on us, c'mon, my Prince, breathe, w-we finally have our time." Sobs wracked your form. "Breathe, Daemon, please! Please! I'm back - I finally found you, please, my love, breathe!"

You shoved harder into his breast bone with increased ferocity until water came suddenly spewing from his lungs. You heard the Great Shadow land in the near distance, turning Daemon on his side to help him breathe better; choking the water out. You spoke in relief, "There, there you go, c'mon, love, breathe! Thank fucking Gods, you're all right, you're okay, get it out - you're okay, just breathe, my love."

Daemon choked your name in pure disbelief, holding one of your wrists in a vice grip that only briefly concerned you. He panted and relaxed into the embankment, loosening his grip as he turned over to look up at you in shock and wonder. "How is this possible?" He wheezed.

"It's a bit of a long story," you teased softly, caressing his cheek. "Bit of a boring tale, 'M afraid."

"How? How is - how can this be?"

"You needed me," you explained, "thought I'd return the favor since you saved me all those years ago, huh? You got me out of the sea, I got you out of the lake - we're even, yeah?"

He still panted, only staring at you as if he couldn't believe himself. "You've not aged a day," he whispered.

You smiled, petting his cheekbone with your thumb daintly. "You need rest, reprieve, aid," you whispered.

"No, no," he gulped, "not when I just got you back. T-Tell me 's done. Tell me we're done being apart."

"You have a wife still, Daemon. She won't let you go, she wouldn't let us be together."

"Tell me what your flames say."

"Now you trust my flames?"

"When they bring you back to me, yes - oh, fuck yes, I'll believe whatever those fucking flames say. Please, love, for us - consult your flames, tell me what they've said."

You frowned, petting a soaking wet lock of hair from his forehead. Quietly, you whispered, "My Lord showed me what was to pass if I did not come for you... This war, this Dance of Dragons, would claim your life, Daemon. Your wife, your niece... She'll be the end of you, my Prince. You will not survive if you go back to her. Neither of you will survive this... My Lord has shown me that Rhaenyra will meet her end in flames, but following her will cost you your life in water," you glanced at the lake. "Not a death befitting of a Targaryen Prince."

"And now?"

"Now, she will fight her own battles for the first time," you whispered, "and I will return home, and you will make a choice."

He smirked, "We've gone lifetimes apart, like you said before."

"We have."

"I would not go another day," he coughed, wincing in pain. "I do not think I can fight anymore anyways, love. Please... Please."

Daemon never begged. You swallowed harshly, asking him, "No? No more fighting?"

"No," he agreed. "'M so tired, my sweet. I-I can't do this forever," he half-slurred, making you perk up slightly in attention. "Retirement sounds all too appealing now. Rumor will spread that neither Aemond or I lived, it'll be the perfect escape."

You nodded in agreement, flinching when a new voice screeched, "YOU BITCH!"

The pregnant woman you saw on shore stormed towards you, making you chuckle dryly as you had already foreseen this Alys Rivers - pregnant concubine of the One Eyed Prince Aemond and fellow Follower of R'hllor. Alys was unique in the sense that her training was decent enough to ensnare Aemond (it seemed), but not so decent that the Lord yet favored her.

She wasn't more than ten feet from you when the Great Shadow opened her mouth and showered the Red Witch in holy flames; an end she surely did not see coming - not that R'hllor would've showed her. This all caught Daemon's attention, who flinched slightly when he had to turn and look; not expecting the flames nor the beast.

Then his eyes drifted over the land, breathing hitching, and he sat up with a painful groan. "Daemon," you worried, but instead of trying to get him down, you helped him up.

You knew what he saw.

When at Caraxes' side, you helped Daemon lower to his knees at his dragon's head. He whimpered and moaned, belly slashed open, wing torn apart; bleeding out into the cold soil he rested on. The Great Shadow moaned gently in sympathy, lowering herself around you three to let you grieve in peaceful, protective privacy and ease Caraxes to his next life.

The moon was fully in the sky when the crimson bloodwyrm took his final breath with the ebony giant's flames to warm you all. You weren't sure what could be done, but Daemon was pressing a tender kiss to his dragon's head before turning to face you - a lost, confused, vulnerable look coating his features. "Come on, love," you eased gently, helping him to his feet; knowing a few ribs were shattered and probably his clavicle, too.

"Where will we go now?"

"Well, I have somewhere safe for us t'live," you grunted in assurance, wobbling a little under his weight. "But we need rest for tonight. Any ideas?"

"I doubt anyone will venture to Harrenhal this night, should be safe..."

You agreed, and together, you and Daemon settled in the empty castle with the Great Shadow resting on the outskirts of the Keep. She was too big for the interior of the courtyard, so, she was left outside with Caraxes' corpse as you and Daemon settled in the room he had commandeered.

"How is this possible? How can you be here?" He asked, holding your hips as you worked between his spread legs. Daemon had minimal supplies at the ready; hopping up on a work bench to let you care for his injuries and wounds. He watched your every move with a softening look. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, that I'd be cursed to only remember you in my dreams. Rhaenyra said I say your name a lot at night, when I sleep."

"I'm really here, Daemon, ease yourself," you offered an assuring grin, tending to the head wounds he obtained from the fight.

"How?"

"Nettles."

"What?"

"Nettles," you repeated with a smirk. "She's one of my Little Birds, Daemon. It was not entirely coincidence she found you..."

"So she said," he frowned. "But how - "

"She told me you needed me," you smiled softly. "And when I consulted the flames, I was shown what could be. I made a decision, I just wanted you safe, no matter what that meant."

"I just want you. Fuck," he seethed, squeezing your hips, "'s been fucking decades since I've even touched you."

"You're delirious," you teased. "Sleep deprived, maybe concussed."

"Perhaps all at once, but I finally have all I've dreamt of. Please," he whispered, "do not deny us longer. I've endured lifetimes - "

"Daemon, being here and now, you know I can't walk away. But we've time t'talk it all out, I need you to let me help your wounds - so sit still."

He nodded, "One thing I do not understand, though - the dragon? How did you...?"

"Spent two years in Valyria, looking for her."

"Why were you there?"

"Searching for a dragon, of course," you smirked. "She's impressive, isn't she? And from her size, I wager she can easily support us both back across the Narrow Sea."

He grit his teeth when you cleaned his open cuts and wounds, wrapping whatever clean cloth you had around the larger wounds; easing him out of his tunic to have better access to the blackened ribs he sported. "Would you tell me?" Daemon whispered some time later.

"Of what?"

"Your life since the Stepstones?"

"Oh," you chuckled, "sweet love, you know it was dreadfully boring without you."

"Doesn't seem it, you being in Valyria two years? That's not heard of, what was it like? How'd you survive? Why go looking for a dragon?"

This lead to you both laying in bed, hands held together, resting, but not sleeping. You just spoke quietly, fingertips tracing idly over each other's faces; sharing in each others lives that the other missed, reminiscing together in fond memories.

When morning broke, you had to move swiftly. Caraxes was left where he laid and after a final parting to the loyal beast and commandeering his saddle, together, you and Daemon mounted the Great Shadow. She wasn't a fan of the restraints, but once you and Daemon were mounted, she did not fuss as it was evident you humans had an easier time with the leather contraption.

"I must confess," Daemon whispered in your ear, using you as an anchor and leaning into your back, "I fear I might feel something akin to guilt for fleeing home."

"That's natural," you assured, "you're leaving family behind, 's never easy."

"There was no winning this war," he admitted, sighing. "I lead so many to their death... Destroyed my family - "

"From what I have heard, this is not your doing," you argued sharply. "That night, when Aemond attacked Lucerys, what were you to do? Leave that kind of atrocity without consequence? No, that is not in the Targaryen's nature. You did not start this war, Daemon."

"But I knew..."

"You knew what?"

"I knew Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were Harwin Strong's, not Laenor Velaryon's. We thought if we married her sons to my daughters, nobody would care much else about lineage - but we were wrong."

"It's okay to be wrong," you promised, leaning your head back to let your forehead rest against his temple. "It's okay to make mistakes or have regret. Tell me, do you wish to return to your wife? I will take you now, no quest - "

"No. No, I do not wish to leave you. This is... This is Rhaenyra's war, I've done my part. I'm free and finally with whom I belong."

"Now it's time to heal," you told him.

"Time to rest," he agreed, squeezing your waist and placing a few kisses to your neck. "This is where I should've been all this time... After the Stepstones, I should've stayed with you, none of this would've come to pass. I regret leaving you everyday - "

"I told you, for us to get here, to this point, now, we had to separate. But look where we are," you smiled back at him, the Great Shadow soaring higher in the sky to keep Westeros at a distance, "we will not be apart again. 'S you and me, love... Until our end, which we will greet together."

Daemon's lips found yours at long last, whispering, "Together," against them before sweeping his tongue against yours.

The port was lovely this time of day, sun high in the sky to give light to the fishermen and vendors hard at work. Sailors made port, calms were being shucked, different Aristocats trying to barter and trade on their journeys abroad. You smiled at the people you passed, grateful to be home after a prolonged absence; arm looped tight with Daemon's as you both strolled the pier.

"It's hard to imagine you've done all this in a lifetime or less," he mused, a hand folded over yours, dressed in the best clothes you could find. "It's s marvel, my sweet," his compliment was sincere.

"Thank you," you whispered, hugging his arm as your skirts swished around your ankles, just tickling your bare feet. "This season's expected to be bountiful," you told him, pointing to the various teams bringing crustaceans, fish, and other sea life in different crates and traps. "I expect there won't be much of an off-season."

He glanced around, "And you don't collect taxes?"

"Why would I?" You scoffed. "We're more dynamic than that. Everyone works for their place, if you wanted to think of it that way. They are not expected to contribute, but the village seems happier that way. Being close knit, helping one another, sharing wealth. No one person has complained, so, I figure it's working so far. Even if it didn't work, I still wouldn't charge them taxes - it'd be like charging them to live. Always seemed silly t'me."

"Morning, Mistress!"

"Morning, Don," you beamed, leading Daemon towards the dock. "How are you, kind sir? Looks as if you've been working all day already."

"Aye, up before the sun," he nodded, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Wanted t'thank yah, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, yeah, with that dragon? We're hauling in more ships," he chuckled, and just overhead, the Great Shadow glided over them all to head out to sea to fetch another round of ships. "Gets us out there quick, brings us back when done, 's like a wee bit of an assembly line, ain't it?"

You chuckled, "Sounds like it, friend. Uh, Don, have I introduced you to my husband?"

"Husband?" Don grinned, cocking his head, "No, Mistress, I wasn't aware you even had a suitor. Mariam don't tell me much gossip these days," he snickered, referring to his wife. "It's nice t'meet you," he told Daemon, "name's Don, just Don - no, it ain't short for nothin'."

Daemon smirked some, shaking the man's fishy hand boldly, "A pleasure, Don, Just Don."

"Oh, this one's got a bit uh humor, don't he?" Don laughed lightly. "What's your name, lad?"

"Daemon?" A voice answered for you all, and just above you, a little further on the pier, stood an aged Laenor Velaryon.

"Excuse us, Don," you spoke swiftly, confusion marring your features. He understood or sensed the slight tension, backing off to let you approach the "dead" knight.

"Oh, my - Y/N," Laenor breathed, another aged man at his side with what you assume to be his children. No question could be asked yet as your old friend launched himself into your arms, laughing merrily, giving you a tight squeeze with his still-toned arms. "Oh, the Gods are good for this!" He laughed, rocking you slightly, "Oh, how the Seven bless us."

"You're so dramatic," you laughed back, patting him happily until he pulled back. "But I must confess, I am so fucking confused - what is this? How are you here? I thought you died, Laenor, that's what ever spy reported."

"They should've," he nodded, glancing at Daemon, "but perhaps, the explanation will be better received after some wine?" He caressed your cheek in affection before looking at your husband, nodding, "It's good to see you again, my Prince. Or is it King Consort?"

"Neither, just Daemon," he corrected, your heart soaring a little at the idea that he would abandon his title so easily. Yet you knew, there was nothing to go back to for him.

"Well, how about I introduce my family?"

"Family?" You grinned, seeing him present the others.

"My husband," he gestured, giving his name. "And our kids," he introduced the other three.

"How?" You asked simply.

"We found a Red Priest who was willing to officiate the ceremony," Laenor explained, "and the kids were sired by different mothers, too."

"Whores," the husband smiled.

"Huh," you nodded in impression. "Well, perhaps wine is best to hear that tale, as well?"

"Perhaps," Laenor grinned. "Uh, but first, we should find accommodations - "

"Oh, come off it, you're staying with us," you waved. "Your belongings?"

"This is it," he half-shrugged, you eyeing the few rucksacks around their feet, neck, shoulders... "We heard of the prosperity here, thought it was worth the move."

"How right you are," Daemon answered. "Come, old friend." He picked up a few sacks for the kids and you looped your arm with Laenor's to lead the way. How good it was to have your friend back, your husband at your side, and a functioning, happy village with your placement amongst them most important... Everything you could've wished for, it seemed, came true.

And in your womb, a Dragon Seed was planted; soon to make its announcement known. Truly, a happier ending than you thought deserved - but R'hollr worked mysteriously, blessing those deemed worthy to spread his flames.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.

#daemon #prince daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x f!reader #daemon targaryen x female!reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen angst #prince daemon targaryen x fem!reader #prince daemon targaryen x f!reader #prince daemon targaryen x female!reader #prince daemon targaryen imagine #prince daemon targaryen fanfiction #prince daemon targaryen angst

[oliviawhen]

Super honored to have worked on this interactive visual novel Doodle celebrating geographer and cartographer Marie Tharp!! She has an incredible story. This project was also done entirely in watercolor! It also as voice over by three contemporary female scientists working in geology and Earth science!  [Check it out here.] Many many thanks to Alyssa Winans who painted the majority of the interactive scenes, that inherently needed lots of iteration. Also Anthony Irwin who did the UX/UI, and many things that were not UX/UI. ALSO our engineers Gemma and Jonathan who put Everything together, and even managed to teach us how to do some basic eng things so we could have more control. It has been one of my favorite things I’ve worked on!

#marie tharp #watercolor #women in STEM #illlustration #animation #text #gif #art process #there were a lot of moments I wanted to scream on her behalf #we didn't even discuss the fact that when she confirmed plate techtonics they called it girl talk #art #google doodle

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Attracting a Mate

Female Yandere Scorpion Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Kidnapping, venom, no smut, mentions of oviposition, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.2k (I hope everyone likes this, this was done because someone requested a female Talin, so they act very similar. I am attracted to all genders so I do not mind making yanderes that are not male, I just don’t do female readers.)

 Ever since Tahlia saw her brother Talin’s tiny human mate she simply had to have one for herself. So feisty, energetic, cute, and the perfect size to pick up and move easily. You could even stuff em’ full of eggs apparently so one would definitely make a good incubator.  Tahlia did not want another scorpion-person as a mate, going into one’s territory could be dangerous if they were not seeking a mate or already had one, and if one entered her territory it could be dangerous if they did not have the best of intentions.  But these cute humans were no threat, and besides she wanted to be the strong provider in a relationship and mating with another of her species there was always a chance there would be a contest for dominance. And of course they might not even stick around after mating and she did not see any possibility that a human mate would ever want to leave.  Why would a human leave her? She was so much bigger and stronger than any other human, so surely to any human she would be the most fit mate, able to provide security, land, and food far more easily than one human could provide for another.  But how could she even find a human that was in need of a mate? She decided that she would have to travel if she was serious about having what her brother had stumbled onto.  You were part of an expedition team set out to explore the now open Treragar borderlands, near the edge of the desert. There were botanists, zoologists, geologists, a cartographer, a couple artists to draw specimens and landscapes, and you, a research assistant helping the botanists and zoologists.  The people native to this country would not even come within miles of the borderlands, telling strange tells of large skittering beasts and deadly serpents, the expedition members did not believe such superstitious nonsense, though there was a supposed disappearance of one of the first field scientists willing to come here, but it was far more likely that they just got lost and succumbed to the heat rather than any impossible fantasy beast nabbing them.  The expedition was slowly making its way to the predicted location of an oasis, and studying and documenting anything interesting along the way. The border land deserts may look barren and dead at first glance, but there was life to be found even in this harsh habitat.  The scene was almost fantastical, with sandy hills that were as white and smooth as milk. Were it not for the harsh heat of the midday sun and the sparse scrubland, anyone could be convinced they were gazing upon an endless scene of snow.    Your first days of the expedition were spent trudging through the sand and brush, collecting samples as directed. Seeds, leaves, flowers, shed scales from a creature yet unseen.  At night you would go to the far side of camp, you were not very friendly with the others and preferred to remain alone. You would start a small fire, heat up your rations, and then put out the small blaze before going to sleep in your sleeping bag.  One night you were so exhausted that your eyelids felt like they were made of lead, and you drifted off to sleep while waiting for your food to heat up. The scent of food cooking and the light of the fire caught Tahlia’s attention, who had traveled far from her land in search of a rare human mate.  She observed you silently, getting as near to the camp as she dared, she looked upon all the humans, most of them huddled on one side of the camp, but you left all alone.  Poor thing, must be the only one left mateless, so desperate for a mate to come and take care of you that you passed out while tending to your beacon that had so effectively attracted her. Well, no need to worry anymore, Tahlia was going to take good care of you.  The large scorpion woman approached carefully to the edge of the campsite where you were sleeping peacefully.  She did not want you waking up when you were sleeping so cutely, and she wanted to bring you home as fast as possible so she stung you quickly with her harmless paralytic venom that would make sure you would stay peacefully dreaming. She was anxious to communicate with you, but Talin had told her how his human had been so excitable and determined to play when he first found them.  Better not to cause any noise that may alert the other humans to her presence, she was in their territory and did not know how they would react.  When you woke up from the best sleep you had ever had your cheek was resting against a soft warm pillow… wait… that wasn’t right… and you were now leaning against something not laying down flat on your back as you normally slept…  That’s when you realized you were snuggled up close into the bizarrely warm bare chest of a woman. You blushed deeply as you inhaled her strong but not unpleasant scent. Had one of the other expedition members gotten drunk and wandered over to you? Had they gotten you drunk too? Your mind was a bit hazy.  You looked up and realized you had no idea who this woman was, her long red hair, pale skin, and surprisingly muscular physique were entirely foreign to you.  And where the hell were you? This was not camp, this was some kind of cave or burrow.  And then you looked down and shrieked. Dear gods, the stories were true, from the waist down she was a huge white and black chitinous arachnid, some type of scorpion beast.  You flailed wildly, falling back and landing on your butt. You scrambled to get up and ran in terror for the early morning light trickling through the entrance of Tahlia’s den. But your scream had woken the scorpion lady.  “Oh, you want to race little mate? So early? I think we should eat before we play!” You could not understand her and even if you could you were more focused on fleeing. She rushed after you and caught you right after you had taken your first step out of your new home.  She held you tight to her chest and nuzzled affectionately before making noises you could not interpret. “Oh, wow, Talin was right. Human mates are so eager and playful. I am just so so lucky I found you! Running off like that could have been dangerous before you had me to protect you~”  “Don’t worry my precious gem, we can play as much as you want later, but for now let me get you some food.” Tahlia picked you up easily in her muscular arms, her large biceps not even straining as she placed you back in her nest. She stroked your hair gently before going to prepare you a meal. You were too terrified to move… at the very least it did not seem like your life was in danger yet…  Maybe after you ate you two could play a while before she filled you full of nice eggs, she was sure you would love that. Keeping her new mate all cute and needy and full of eggs would certainly make sure you would never ever want to leave your new den right?  

#yandere teratophilia #yandere exophilia #yandere terato #female x gender neutral reader #scorpion monster #scorpion monster x reader #monster x gender neutral reader #My OC Tahlia #My OCs #female yandere #yandere x gender neutral reader

[bug-oc]

Bug Fables OC Tournament Round 1

Apollyon (They/It) from @fallenaither

Apollyon is a Death's Head Hawkmoth that is really just one of several characters involved in a story/bit of worldbuilding I'm making. They were born in an isolated village far to the south-east of Bugaria that borders an area of the Deadlands. It was raised from birth to take part in the worship of a "goddess" that protects this lone village from the supposed end of the world in exchange for tribute paid in the form of sacrifices. This "goddess" is truly just a bug herself, but Apollyon doesn't learn the full truth of this.

At least not for a while.

All they know is what their father, the head acolyte of the goddess, teaches to it. For most of Apollyon's life, it spends its time forced to follow their father's footsteps. This is something they despise though. They're far more drawn to the world around them than any religious duties they have and spend any free time it has trying to learn more about the plants and environment it has access to.

Later in life due to…circumstances they'd like to say they couldn't fully control, Apollyon ends up having to flee from its home. Not a single bug goes after them since, as far as they're all aware, Apollyon is condemning itself to death by leaving the village. This ends up not being the case, thankfully, and after a long while Apollyon ends travelling all the way to Bugaria. They wander around a bit, struggling to comprehend a world they were taught didn't exist, and eventually stumble into the Golden Hills.

It thankfully gets found, taken in, and nursed back to health by a beetle in the Golden Settlement named Pan and is able to eventually take up a far different path than the one given to them back in their homeland. Apollyon's knowledge and skills eventually earn them a job as a botanist for the Bee Kingdom, where it's able to take part in the study and upkeep of the flora that acts as pollinator plants for the Hive.

Butterscotch (she/her) from @w-krajobrazie-zapomnienia

Butterscotch is a mute female moth with a massive tear on her left wing. She was seen as an outcast/curse by her tribe. Because of her appearance, others usually picked on her but she learned to defend herself through her actions if not words. She's a confident and sometimes stubborn individual. She avoids being around other bugs and instead prefers to be surrounded by nature.

After she grew up she travelled to Bugaria where she took up a job as a cartograph and went on expeditions alone to save up. One fateful day, while on an expedition near Snakemouth den she was kidnapped by roach scientists and experimented on with their newly created cordyceps type which later on became sentient. Fortunately for her she didn't become a mindless zombie like other bugs who fell victim to the roach scientists..but something different became of her.

#bf oc tournament #bug fables #bug fables oc

[supersonicart]

Alessandra Maria's "RITE."

Opening on Friday, November 4th, 2022 at Galerie Fledermaus in Chicago, Illinois is artist Alessandra Maria's exceptional, must see solo exhibition, "RITE."

Utilizing a limited palette of graphite, gold leaf, and ink, Maria displays a prodigious command of craft. Her work succeeds in evoking symbolist undertones while also transcending tradition to gesture toward something entirely new.

Exploring the space between dreams and reality, between tradition and heresy, "RITE" is an incantation, a chant calling forth truths from a world shrouded in mystery and mist.  The result is the female form elevated to an iconography unto itself, inhabiting worlds of myth and magic.   

"RITE" is not meant to be viewed as a collection of separate works, but rather as illustrations for a sacred text.  Maria has created a world – a society, bound by ritual and belief, in which all elements interconnect. Her subjects are both a celebration and a subversion of the sacred feminine; primal demigoddesses of the dusk, of the space between worlds.

For Maria, "RITE" represents a homecoming of sorts. A return to the world building of her youth when her unencumbered imagination conjured mysterious realms.  She began drawing as a means of capturing these worlds of witches and goddesses, giving form to the contents of her dreams. In that way "RITE" is also a map, the work of a cartographer tracing the way back to where her world began.  

BUY PRINTS | FOLLOW ON INSTAGRAM

#art #painting #illustration #alessandra maria #galerie fledermaus

[violet-shadows]

Poison

Masterlist

Summary: A diplomatic mission goes awry, leaving Cassian and his mate stranded in the Illyrian wilderness. 

Pairing: Cassian x Reader (She/Her)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: mention of poison, using body heat for warmth

A/N:  Sorry this one is a bit late. Hope you like it!

 ⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

Cassian was unusually quiet as you flew over the dense forests of Illyria, his hold on you almost too tight for comfort. He wasn’t pleased with the plan, that much you knew, but he had agreed nonetheless at your insistence and that of his High Lady. When the message came a month prior, inviting the High Lord and Lady to a remote Illyrian camp for the purpose of improving diplomacy, the Inner Circle was immediately suspicious. Given the tenuous relationship between the Night Court and Illyrians, though, declining wasn’t an option. Initially, Rhysand had planned to go alone, but it was decided that the presence of the High Lady, a powerful female, was just enough to challenge camp leaders without pushing them away entirely. When an emergency in the Hewn City called Rhysand away, however, it was decided that Cassian, Feyre, and another delegate from the Inner Circle would proceed without him. That’s when you volunteered. 

Cassian was not pleased with the idea of having both his mate and High Lady in Illyrian territory, but as the Night Court’s cartographer and an expert negotiator, there was no one better for the job. He had begrudgingly agreed to the plan after making you swear up and down you would stick by his side, and the three of you set out within the hour. The flight to the remote camp would take several hours, and although Cassian and Feyre were dressed for the journey, you had to make do with what you could throw together on short notice. “You should have dressed warmer,” Cassian grumbled, pulling you closer as you began to shiver. The chill in the air had worsened as you approached the northern camps, and the cold wind nipped at every bit of exposed skin.

“This is the warmest thing I had on hand,” you hissed, cuddling into his warmth. You weren’t sure if it was genetics or acclimatization that gave Illyrians their incredible cold tolerance, but your mate seemed largely unaffected by the frigid temperatures. Cassian’s face pinched, a sure sign he was worried, and you added, “And I’m fine. A bit of wind chill is nothing.”

“We’ll make this quick,” Cassian replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground below. While Cassian had more tolerance for his homeland than Azriel, visiting still put him in a somber mood. In Velaris, he was the General of the Night Court and an esteemed member of the High Lord’s Inner Circle, surrounded by people who respected and cared for him. In the camps, however, a part of him would always feel like the powerless, low-born bastard of his youth and it never failed to leave a bad taste in his mouth. You knew this about him, even if he’d never explained it in so many words, and you hoped your presence at his side might remind him of his worth. 

When you touched down on the outskirts of the camp, you were greeted first by a group of sentries. Their leader, a high-ranking officer, feigned ignorance as you approached. “State your business,” he called out.

“You are honored with the presence of the High Lady, Feyre Cursebreaker, and Lady Y/N of the Night Court,” Cassian’s voice was commanding with an edge to it that you rarely heard outside of battle. When the sentries hesitated, he stepped forward, his wings flared as a look of cold fury twisted his features. You were so used to your Cassian, the gentle, jovial version you were so often graced with, that it was easy to forget just how intimidating the General could be. As he stared down the Illyrians before you, all seven Siphons blazing red, you were reminded why he was called the Lord of Bloodshed. 

After a few tense moments, the sentries relented, kneeling before the High Lady in deference. The look of indignation that flashed on the officer’s face was not missed by Cassian, who brushed past him roughly as he escorted you and Feyre into the camp. The camp lord greeted you when you reached the center, where his home overlooked the training grounds. Illyrian warriors and novices alike had gathered, observing the spectacle that was the High Lady’s arrival. There were no females or children in the crowd and your uneasy feeling began to grow. 

“My Lady,” the camp lord, an older Illyrian with a long, salt and pepper beard, bowed upon greeting Feyre. It was not quite low enough to be appropriate, but enough of a bow to avoid blatant disrespect. “We expected your husband would be joining us this evening.”

“The High Lord of the Night Court,” Feyre replied, “is otherwise engaged. He sends his regards.”

“Well, we thank you for coming regardless,” he replied coolly. “Please, do join us for a meal.” The tension in the air was palpable, and you and Cassian stayed close to Feyre’s flank as you entered. The camp lord’s table was already set, and many of the warriors from outside began to file in after you. A fire raged, warming the hall, and incense of some sort burned in nearly every corner. With Feyre at the camp lord’s right and Cassian to his left, you took care to claim the seat next to your High Lady, creating g a buffer between her and the rest of the attendees. As the camp lord gave his welcome speech, several females entered with food and drink, circling the table as they served the meal. Distracted by speech and the arrival of food, you almost missed a lone male server slip past to present the High Lady with her drink. He disappeared as soon as he placed the goblet next to her, and it struck you as odd that her drink alone was served separately from the rest. 

Alarm bells sounded in your mind as you stared at the goblet, the disquieted feeling from before growing into full-blown dread. The camp lord’s speech was ending, and he would soon call a toast to begin the feast. If you voiced your suspicion and you were wrong, it would surely be taken as a grave insult. If you were right, calling it out would likely spur them to violence, accelerating whatever sinister plan they had in place. With only moments to make the decision, you reached out and grabbed Feyre’s goblet, nudging the one intended for you to her side. It was quick enough that no one noticed except for the High Lady herself, who reacted with only a fleeting glance in your direction. 

Sure enough, the toast was called and you raised your glass, forcing yourself to smile as you did. You sniffed the liquid as you pretended to take a sip, but with the smell of incense thick in the air, it was impossible to distinguish any unusual notes. Your heart rate began to pick up as you considered your options and Cassian caught on, shooting you a look of concern. You dropped your mental shields, catching Feyre’s attention. 

‘Something is wrong,’ you spoke to her in your mind, relaying your concerns in flashes and images.

‘Cassian is worried as well,’ she replied, continuing her conversation with the camp lord seamlessly. ‘Do you think it’s poisoned?’

‘I can’t tell,’ you replied, looking around the room for further clues. Just then, the officer to your left shifted and you caught the outline of a leather sheath beneath his tunic. That was enough for you. ‘In a few minutes, begin to act woozy and say you need some air. Take Cassian with you. The moment you step outside, winnow as far as you can and head back to Velaris. I’ll stall them.’

Feyre didn’t answer for several moments, likely relaying the plan to Cassian in her mind. ‘I’ll step outside, but Cassian stays with you.’

‘You can’t go alone,’ you argued.

‘It will raise more suspicion if Cassian comes with me. I can travel further on my own and I’m not leaving you here by yourself. You and Cassian can come out under the guise of checking on me, then you can winnow him away as well.’ You began to argue, but you caught sight of Cassian, who gave you a subtle shake of the head. This was his plan. You reluctantly agreed and after a few minutes, Feyre stood.

“If you’ll excuse me, my lord. I feel I just need a bit of air,” she didn’t wait for his reply, quickly standing and slipping out the door. As she passed, you caught sight of some of the guests exchanging satisfied smirks and your blood began to boil. You rushed to engage the camp lord in conversation, hoping to distract him from Feyre's absence while Cassian kept his eye on the door, his posture rigid. As you spoke, you began to notice a tingling in your right hand, like pins and needles that began in your palm and traveled up your arm. You rolled your shoulder, hoping to alleviate the sensation, but when the tingling progressed to numbness in your fingertips, you grew concerned. It was perhaps too soon to check on the High Lady, but if the sensation was indeed poison setting into your veins, time was running short. 

“Perhaps we should check in on High Lady Feyre,” you said abruptly, moving to stand. “Excuse us.” As you walked towards the door, it felt as though the ground was moving beneath you, causing your vision to swim. You fought to keep from stumbling, swallowing back bile as your stomach began to churn. Once outside, you were relieved to find Feyre gone, likely halfway to Velaris where you would soon meet her. As you grasped Cassian’s hand and prepared to winnow, however, your feeling of relief quickly vanished. You couldn’t access your magic, as if it was suddenly locked behind a stone wall. You tried again, squeezing Cassian’s hand tight, but nothing came. Behind you, the chatter had stopped and you could hear several chairs scraping as the majority of the party was moving to stand. They had caught on.

“I can’t winnow us,” you whispered, beginning to sway as your knees grew weak.

“What?” Cassian’s gaze darted between you and the door as footfalls began to approach.

“Poison,” you murmured. The effects were coming on rapidly now, with the arm you used to lift the glass now limp at your side. The numbness had traveled to your other extremities and the world around you seemed to tilt on its axis. In an instant, Cassian had you gathered in his arms and took flight, lifting off just as the doors burst open. You didn’t have the energy to look behind you, too focused on the spinning of your head and heaviness in your limbs as Cassian flapped his wings, climbing high above the camp. 

The icy breeze from the afternoon had become a howling wind, stinging your cheeks as you flew through the night. The cold only worsened the spreading numbness and your eyelids began to grow heavy. “Stay awake,” Cassian ordered, his voice loud in your ear. “I thought you didn’t drink it.”

Snow had begun to fall in dense flakes, and the world around you was a haze of grey. You thought back to the dinner and kicked yourself, suddenly remembering another peculiarity of the male who served Feyre’s drink: he was wearing gloves. “It was on the outside of the cup,” you slurred, head rolling to rest on his chest. Cassian cursed viciously, and you could hear his hammering heart beneath your ear. He let out a huff as your eyes fluttered closed.

“The storm is getting worse,” he said, shouting over the deafening wind. “We have to land.” You hummed an acknowledgment, too sleepy to respond. The last thing you registered before you fell asleep was the jolt of landing on snow covered ground.

 ⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

Cassian was frantic as he trudged through knee-deep snow, your body limp in his arms. If he was correct about his current location, a nearby cave would provide you shelter to wait out the storm, but he could do nothing about the poison coursing in your veins until he reached Velaris. It seemed to take ages to reach the cave, the storm worsening by the minute, and when Cassian finally laid you down against the cave's rear wall, he was disturbed by your graying complexion. For a moment, he was conflicted, trying to decide between warming you with body heat or venturing out for firewood, but as the temperatures continued to drop outside, he feared a fire might be the difference between life and death.

The General rushed to collect wood for the fire as the chill seeped into his bones. Fortunately, it was still early in the season, and looming conifers of the Illyrian wilderness still sheltered dry kindling beneath their massive limbs. It was reminiscent of days gone by, when he was but a bastard in the camps, solely responsible for his own survival, and as he trudged through deep snow back towards the cave, he felt nearly as helpless. 

When he arrived back at the cave, he found you slumped against the back wall in the same position as before, and his heart stuttered as he rushed to check your pulse. It was weak and slow, but steady enough that he could step away to build a small fire. It took several tries to get the flame going and the wet wood filled the cave with smoke, but the heat was an immediate source of relief. He turned his attention to you next, working quickly to rid you of your damp clothing. You began to stir, letting out a soft moan, and he reached up tomove your hair from your face, “Just getting you out of these wet clothes, sweetheart.”

You let out another whine of protest when he stripped you of your pants, the cold cave floor biting into your flesh. “I know, I’m sorry,” he murmured, working to disrobe as well. When you were both nearly bare, he pulled you into his lap and moved close to the fire, cringing as he realized just how cold your skin had gotten. He flared his wings out, sheiling you from the cold air, and rubbed his hands up and down your arms vigorously, stimulating blood flow. In this state, it was hard to tell whether it was the cold or poison that had you so listless. 

“Can you hear me, sweetheart?” he asked, wincing as a cool gust of air hit his wings. He drew you close, wrapping his large arms around your torso and tangling his legs with yours in an attempt to warm them. Still in a stupor, you could merely groan, leaning into his touch. “Still out of it, huh?” he murmured, resting his cheek atop your head.

“Okay… it’s okay… You’ll be fine…” he said the words outloud, though they were more for his own comfort than yours. Your skin was beginning to warm, but you remained limp in his arms, making no improvement towards consciousness. Without knowing what poison afflicted you, he couldn’t even begin to treat you in the field and a flight in these conditions would mean certain death for you, and perhaps for him as well. He would have to wait until the storm died down to fly to Windhaven for help. Assuming Feyre had made it to Velaris, Rhysand and Azriel would almost certainly be there by morning. Cassian tried not to think of the implications if she hadn’t made it. That, along with his plan for vengeance, would have to wait, as he could scarcely think of anything but you, weak and vulnerable in his arms. 

Hours slipped by with you fast asleep, his supply of firewood dwindling with time. Your clothing had mostly dried, so as the flames grew weaker, he redressed your limp body, wrapping you in his jacket for added warmth. Outside, the darkness had lifted somewhat as dawn approached, but the blizzard showed no signs of stopping. Just as he was considering risking the journey anyway, you began to stir. “Cas?” Your voice was rough, but it was the most coherent you had been since the evening prior, and for that he was thankful. “Where are we?”

“A cave, waiting out the storm,” he knelt before you, his large hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “How do you feel?” 

“Tired,” you moaned, clearly fighting to keep your eyes open. “Did Feyre get away?” 

“I think so,” he replied, moving to sit next to you. He pulled you close, wrapping his wing around you as he did. “We’ll know for sure when we make it to Windhaven. We just have to wait for the storm…” A stick cracked outside and Cassian fell silent. He was up in an instant, sword in hand as he approached the cave mouth. He thought of you, still vulnerable and debilitated on the cave floor behind him, and prepared to fight for both of your lives. The crunch of snow under boots grew louder, and just as he was about to spring forward to meet them, he caught a familiar scent on the wind.

“Cassian?” Rhys called out, materializing out of the wall of white. Cassian sheathed his sword, shoulders sagging in relief. If Rhys was here, Feyre was surely alright as well. “Thank the Mother!” Rhys exclaimed when he saw him. 

“Is Feyre alright?” Cassian asked, searching his brother’s face for clues.

“Yes, thanks to Y/N. Is she–?” Rhysand hesitated, blanching when he didn’t see you at your mate’s side. “Where is she?” Cassian turned back towards the cave, motioning for him to follow. Inside, you were still slumped on the ground, fast asleep once more, though you were holding your own head up, at least. 

“Poison on the outside of the cup,” Cassian explained as Rhys knelt down to assess you. “She just woke up less than an hour ago. Rhys, do you know what would do this?”

Rhysand nodded gravely, his fists clenching, “It was most likely meant to subdue Feyre and buy time for the stronger poison in the drink to take effect. Did she drink any?” 

“She didn’t,” Cassian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Good. I’ll winnow us to Velaris, get her seen by a healer. If this is what I think it is, she should be alright by this afternoon,” he replied.

“And what of the camp?” Cassian asked, some of his fury returning as fear began to recede.

“We’ll make them pay.” 

 ⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

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#Cassian x Reader #Cassian x You #Cassian Fanfic #Cassian #ACOTAR x Reader #ACOTAR x You #ACOTAR Fanfic #ACOTAR #my stuff #ff

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Soothing Rain of His: Chapter II - An Old Friend, a New Grisha

Chapter Summary: Aleksander returns to the Little Palace, but he brings someone unexpected with him. You know everything is about to change now, but you find comfort in your strong love for General Kirigan.

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Fedyor Kaminsky, Ivan, Alina Starkov, Genya Safin

Word Count: 4227

A/N: tsaritsa – ruler, queen, female tsar moi tsar – my ruler, king Smut alert. If you don't like it or are underage, don't read from: "He makes the kiss become more passionate and intimate." to: "'Only mine,' he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours." Enjoy! Also, the last scene is from the third of season one. Inspired by prompt: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089559843/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

You're reading a book, lying in bed. Your one hand is holding the book, while your other makes traces with a stream of water in the air. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door.

'Come in,' you call and put away the book, marking the page first. The door opens and your good friend Natasha walks in. She smirks at you.

'Guess who's just returned,' she says. She wants to say something more, but you're already on your feet and bolting out of the room. Your friend sighs.

'I didn't even get to tell her the best part,' she says, pouting. 'Rude.'

You race through the corridors, your heart beating fast. You barely manage to stop a grin forming on your face. You slow down to a pace when you are near the General's chambers. It's not far, but you both agreed it's better not to place you near him.

You stop in front of the door. You can hear voices inside. You calm your breathing and knock.

'Enter,' you hear a familiar voice. You walk inside and close the door behind you. You see Aleksander talking to a few guards. His expression is serious, but you like how it softens slightly when he looks at you. Like the way he looks at you is different from how he looks at everyone else.

'Is everything clear?' he asks the guards.

'Yes, General,' one of them says. They all bow their heads slightly, then turn to leave. Only once they are gone, Aleksander opens his arms. You fall into them with a grin and he embraces you tightly.

'I was just thinking about going to see you, but you beat me to it,' Aleksander says and pulls away to give you and amused look. 'Again.'

'Well, not only you have spies in the palace,' you say, grinning at him. Your lover frowns.

'Who is your spy?' he asks.

'Like I'm going to tell you,' you chuckle. Aleksander kisses you hard. It leaves you a bit dazed.

'How about now?' Kirigan asks. You look at him and laugh.

'Natasha,' you explain, not wanting to 'torture' him more. 'I guess she saw you coming to your chambers.'

'I guess,' Aleksander says, thoughtful. You look at him closely.

'You're back earlier than I thought, though,' you point out. 'Did something happen?'

'The skiff was attacked merely two markers in,' Aleksander answers after a moment. You stare at him, horrified.

'Are they…?' you ask.

'Some of them,' Aleksander confirms, nodding. 'But then an impossible happened. A burst of light scared Volcras away.'

'Where did it come from?' you ask, frowning. A spark shines in Aleksander's eyes.

'From the Sun Summoner,' he answers. Your mouths part slightly. To say you are stunned would be an understatement.

'You found them?' you ask. Aleksander nods.

'A cartographer from the First Army,' he answers. 'She had no idea who she is until that event. No idea she is a Grisha.'

'She wasn't tested?' you ask.

'She didn't really give me a clear answer,' Aleksander answers, thoughtful. You gnaw at you bottom lip, thinking.

'She can't control it yet, of course,' Kirigan says. 'But with a proper training, Miss Alina Starkov will become a powerful Grisha.'

You freeze. Your eyes snap to his face.

'Come again?' you ask with disbelief. 'The Sun Summoner is Alina Starkov?'

'Do you know her?' Aleksander asks, surprised. You snort.

'Yeah, it's my childhood friend,' you answer. 'I told you about her.'

'The one you write letters to,' Aleksander remembers, nodding.

'So, what happens to her now?' you ask. You hope you can see your old friend soon. You missed her after you moved from Keremzin.

'Tomorrow she will be presented to King Pyotr,' Aleksander answers. 'Then, training begins.'

'Tomorrow?' you ask, blinking. 'You convinced her to come here?'

You find it surprising. Alina and Mal, her friend from the orphanage, were inseparable. And you doubt Mal is a Grisha as well. So, he couldn't have come here as well.

'Not exactly,' Kirigan answers slowly. You stare at him. For a rather long moment.

'Aleksander,' you finally start. 'My dearest love. Pretty boy. Did you take her here against her will?'

'Maybe a bit,' Aleksander admits. You hide your face in your hands for a moment. Then, you move them to cup his face.

'I love you,' you say. 'I really do. But sometimes you can be so thick.'

'What did I do?' Aleksander asks, puzzled. 'I had to take her out of here. The light was seen from miles. She was in danger. Which was proven by her being attacked by drüskelle.'

'Okay,' you sigh. 'But please, tell me, that you at least let her bid farewell to her friends.'

Aleksander is silent. You want to hit your head against a wall.

'So, she's scared, confused, lonely and who knows what else,' you say. 'Lovely.'

You turn on your heel and head toward the door. Aleksander frowns.

'You don't even know where she is,' he says, guessing your intentions. You turn to him and raise your eyebrows at him.

'The Vezda Suite,' you say. Aleksander looks at you with surprise. You scoff.

'Please,' you say. 'I've been a servant here for how long? I know which suite is the best not counting yours. And the Sun Summoner deserves the best, does she not?'

You turn once again and hurry out of the Darkling's Chambers. Soon enough you're in front of the Vezda Suite. The guards eye you warily. You raise your eyebrows at them, daring them to stop you. They don't, knowing you have the Black Genera's favour. So, you knock.

'Come in,' you hear after a moment a quiet and tense voice. You push the door open and walk inside. At once you see Alina buried in bed. Her eyes go wide at the sight of you, recognising you, even though it's been years since you last saw each other. You can't help a smile forming on your face.

'[Y/N]!' Alina exclaims, crawling out of the bed. You quickly close the door behind you. You both run toward the other and in the next second you are in each other's arms.

'I can't believe you're here,' Alina says. 'I mean, I knew you were a servant and then you wrote to me that you're a Grisha, but I mean I didn't expect you to come here. This room, I mean.'

'Alina, breathe,' you chuckle, pulling away slightly. Your friend smiles slightly.                       

'Sorry,' she apologises. You notice traces of tears on her face and her red eyes. Your look softens and you cup her face.

'You have nothing to apologise for,' you say. 'I understand this all is a bit overwhelming.'

'Yeah,' Alina says, deflating. 'If anyone can understand what I feel it's you.'

'Well, maybe not everything,' you say and take Alina's hand. 'But definitely some of it. And I'm willing to listen about the rest.'

You lead your friend to her bed and make her sit there with you. She looks at you with gratitude.

'I don't want this,' she says. 'Any of this. Can someone else be the Sun Summoner?'

'Darling, if it was possible, you'd have a line forming here for this power,' you say and sigh. 'But it's not. Trust me, I searched if it is. I didn't want to be a Grisha either. Mind you, I didn't have such responsibility thrusted on me.'

'Yeah, no pressure at all,' Alina murmurs. You take her hand and squeeze it.

'Was it hard?' she asks after a moment. 'Adjusting to a new life?'

'It had some difficulties,' you admit. 'Some Grisha weren't exactly happy that a girl that used to serve them sometimes is now their equal.'

'How did you manage?' Alina asks.

'At first I had people stood up for me and now I'm doing it myself,' you answer. Alina's face falls.

'So, you're still bullied?' she asks. You hum.

'Sometimes,' you admit. 'But I can handle it now. And if I can't, I have friends I can lean on. So do you. I'm here for you, Alina. I will help you get through this. Whatever you need, you only have to ask.'

'Thank you,' Alina says, smiling with tears in her eyes. You pull her in for another hug. You pull away after a moment.

'You must be exhausted,' you say. 'I will let you rest.'

'Will you come tomorrow?' Alina asks. 'In the morning.'

'What did I just tell you?' you ask her and smile. 'Ask and I will deliver. I promise to be here.'

'Thank you,' your friend says, relieved. You squeeze her hand.

'You're not alone, Alina,' you promise her and stand up. You walk to the door, where you send your friend one last smile before leaving.

On you way to your chambers you stop by one of the windows. You were right. Things are going to change now.

*

You finish getting ready with the help of Natasha and Jana. You hate having them serve you, but they assure you they quite enjoy it. After all, this gives them time to gossip with you like in the old days.

They've just brought up the matter of you being friends with the Sun Summoner, when there's a knock on the door. Natasha and Jana exchange a look. They both smirk. You look at them, confused.

'What is it?' you ask.

'Oh, nothing,' Jana says innocently. 'We just know who's behind that door.'

'A certain general, I should think,' Natasha teases, grinning at you. You glare at them and they giggle.

'Come in,' you call, wanting to end their fit of laughter. The door opens and… Aleksander walks in. You feel your cheeks flush. Your friends are about to die from stifling laughter.

'Leave us,' Aleksander orders them, either not noticing their condition or deciding to ignore it.

'General,' they both say, curtsying to him. They hurry out, but not without throwing you winks over their shoulders. You shake your head and turn your face to Aleksander.

'Shouldn't you be busy with preparations for introducing Alina to the King?' you ask.

'All that we're missing is Miss Starkov,' Aleksander answers, slowly walking toward you. 'And I sent Genya to help her prepare. Anyway, I have more pressing matter to attend to.'

'Oh?' you ask. He stops in front of you. You have to look up to meet his eyes.

'You were quite rude yesterday, you know,' he says. 'I've been missing you ever since I left you in my chambers before I left for the Fold. And you left me with just one kiss. I would have forgiven you, though. If you had returned. But you didn't.'

'I see,' you say, trying to contain a smile. 'How can I make amends, then?'

Aleksander grabs your hips and presses you to himself. You gasp but your breath hitches when you see the way he looks at you. His gaze is intense, burning with need. For you.

'First, I want you to kiss me,' he says, his voice low. You stand on your tiptoes. One hand goes to cup his face, while the other lands at his neck. You press your lips to his, hoping to let him know how much he means to you.

It seems to work, because he grunts in your lips and presses you even closer to himself. He makes the kiss become more passionate and intimate. You feel the arousal pooling in your core. You whine and whisper his name.

'Am I forgiven now?' you ask, pulling slightly away.

'You're getting there,' Aleksander answers. His hands reach into your pants. Your eyes go wide.

'Really?' you ask. 'Now? We don't really have time-'

'I need you,' Aleksander cuts you off. 'I need you like flower needs a sun. Like a fish needs water. Please, let me have you. We don't have to undress.'

Your heart flutters. He looks at you with his beautiful eyes and you know you are doomed.

'I hate I can't say "no" to you, pretty boy,' you say. Aleksander chuckles and lowers your pants a bit. Then, he does the same with your underwear. Your cheeks flush.

'Somehow, this feel much different than being completely naked,' you say.

'You're the one who said we didn't have time,' Aleksander says, getting ready to take out his member. 'I wouldn't care if the King himself had to wait for me. I want to be one with my beloved and nothing or no one can stop me.'

'Unless I say "no",' you point out.

'But you can't, remember?' Aleksander asks, smirking. You roll your eyes and put your arms around his neck.

'Is it okay?' you ask. Your lover just hums and grabs your bottom, urging you to jump. You do so and wrap your legs around his hips. Aleksander walks with you to a wall. He presses your back against it and then takes one hand from your ass.

'Are you ready for me?' he asks, his voice low.

'I'm always ready for you,' you whisper in his ear. Aleksander growls and puts his length into your entrance. You bite your lip, stifling a cry.

'No, don't do that,' Aleksander says, slowly starting to move inside you. 'You know I love hearing how good I make you feel.'

'What if someone comes to check on me, since we're about to go to the Grand Palace… and hears me?' you ask, blushing.

'I've put Fedyor and Ivan on the corridor,' Aleksander answers, mortifying you. 'No one will dare to walk past them.'

'But that means they can hear me!' you protest. Your lover shuts you up with a kiss. At the same time, he starts moving faster and deeper. You gasp and moan when he hits your g-spot.

'Saints, Aleksander!' you exclaim, pretty sure you're seeing starts.

'There, it wasn't that hard, was it?' Aleksander asks, satisfied, and groans. 'You feel so good, lapushka. If I could, I would spend hours like that with you. Every day.'

You shiver and clench around him. He groans and goes even faster.

'Aleksander…' you gasp. 'Yes… more… please…'

'Tell me you're mine,' Aleksander says, slowing down. Oh, the nerve of him…

'I'm yours,' you say, looking him in the eyes. He presses his lips to yours. You sigh and kiss him back. Aleksander goes fast again. Your nails scratch his back. You're almost there…

'Please…' you whisper. Aleksander puts his hand between your bodies and rubs circles on your clit.

'Moya lapushka,' he says, a bit of pride in his voice, and you come undone, wailing. He pushes into you a few more times until he stills and fills you, groaning.

'Only mine,' he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. You smile.

'Yours,' you assure him and cup his face. 'And you're mine.'

'Yes,' Aleksander confirms with a smile and kisses you again. A moment later he pulls away with a sigh.

'I want to continue this so much,' he says and gently separates your bodies, 'but we must go now.'

You nod and untangle yourself from him. Aleksander quickly cleans both of you up and then fixes your clothing.

'I will see you soon,' he says, pressing a kiss to your hand. You smile.

'Not if I see you first,' you say. Aleksander chuckles and reluctantly lets go of your hand. He exits the room, leaving you alone. You stay still for a moment, your heart beating fast. You're glad some things are not going to change.

*

When you finally reach Alina's chambers, she's with Genya Safin and she's almost ready to meet the King. Your friend smiles seeing you. You can almost feel her relief that she doesn't have to go through it alone.

'I'm so sorry, Alina,' you say, crossing the room to hug her. 'I wanted to come earlier, but something held me up.'

Well, rather someone held you up. Against a wall. Not that you minded. At all. In fact, you're really sorry that duties call both of you, because if not- Stop it, [Y/]. Time and place.

'I don't mind,' Alina says and smiles at the Tailor. 'Genya here is most helpful. She even threw away rude servants. Are they all like that?'

'No, most of them are nice,' you say, forcing a smile. You don't add that they at least used to be nice to you. A lot of them are treating you coldly ever since it turned out you're a Grisha. But you don't let Alina know that.

'Remind me to introduce you to Natasha, Jana and Tommy,' you say. 'Just prepare for an endless teasing from the first two. But other than that, they're great.'

Alina smiles. Genya looks at you with interest.

'How do you two already know each other?' she asks.

'Oh, when I was little, I used to live in the same town as Alina,' you explain. 'We've been writing to each other's letters since I left, so our friendship prevailed.'

Alina grins. But then she frowns and looks at you with worry.

'Are you alright, [Y/N]?' she asks. 'Your cheeks are a little flushed…'

You stiffen. You notice Genya turning back to Alina, but you see a glimpse of amused smile on her face. Of course, she knows about your relationship with General, seeing she's become your close friend after you were accepted into Grisha fold. So, she perfectly knows why you are flushed. And why you were late.

'I'm fine,' you assure Alina. 'More importantly, are you ready?'

'Almost,' Genya answers and puts on Alina's head a hat with a veil. The Sun Summoner is very confused by that.

'There,' the Tailor says and heads toward the door. 'Let's go.'

You take Alina's hand, squeeze it and smile reassuringly at her. You can't see whether she responds because of the veil. Still, you lead her out of the room and you two follow Genya.

'No army uniform includes a veil,' Alina says on your way to the Grand Palace.

'You look fine,' Genya says.

'Say one wanted to leave the Little Palace…' Alina says. You supress a smile.

'But everything you need is here,' Genya says.

'I-I've got some things I've forgotten back at the camp,' Alina says. 'I could just go back.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Genya says. 'This way.'

Alina blows at the veil, trying to move it away from her face. You actually find it quite funny. But Genya doesn't.

'Stop that!' she says. 'No one can see you until King Pyotr does.'

Alina stops in front of the mirror. She lifts the veil and looks at her reflection.

'It's just as well,' she says, looking herself over. 'This outfit is ridiculous.'

Well, you're not going to argue on that. Still, you grab her hand and drag her forward.

'Sadly, this is how the King sees the First Army,' you explain. 'He cares little for mud, blood or sacrifice.'

'Shouldn't I be in a kefta?' Alina asks. You all stop for a moment.

'Oh, no,' you snort. 'The King expects to see a humble girl plucked from the ranks of his army. He'll want to take the credit for you.'

'You'll get a kefta once he's witnessed your power,' Genya adds, as you resume walking.

'Right, my power,' Alina says. A moment later you descend the stairs.

'By all accounts, it'll be King Pyotr, the Queen, Crown Prince Vasily, and the King's spiritual adviser, the Apparat,' Genya says and you wince at the mention of the prince. 'He's this greasy rat-'

'Was that a library?' Alina interrupts her. 'Is it available to all of us?'

'Everything here is available to all of us,' you answer. 'The general built this home for us so we can thrive.'

'Has a Grisha ever escaped?' Alina asks, as you exit the Little Palace. '[Y/N], you were a servant. Don't you know some secret exits?'

'Oh, plenty of them,' you answer. 'But I'm not going to tell you where they are.'

'Why not?' Alina asks.

'Because that would put you in danger, meaning I would have to face General Kirigan's wraith, and I do value my life, you know,' you answer.

'Quite smart,' Aleksander praises you, showing up suddenly. 'Planning on making a break for it?'

You and Alina are both startled. Alina looks behind but doesn't see Genya. She lifts the veil.

'Uh, I didn't mean to…' she starts but decides it's better not to finish.

'Good morning, [Y/N],' Aleksander says, his gaze landing on you. You supress a smile.

'Good morning, General,' you greet him. The three of you pass the gate and you see the Grand Palace.

'Oh, Saints!' Alina exclaims.

'I think the Grand Palace is the ugliest building I've ever seen,' Aleksander says. 'How was your rest?'

'Restless,' Alina answers. 'Despite Genya's magic, I didn't-'

'It's not magic,' Aleksander interrupts her. 'It's science. Or rather, Small Science. We do not conjure from nothing. We manipulate that which already exists around us.'

'You make it sound so easy.'

'A bird makes flight look easy. But it was born to do so.'

'When it's ready.'

'So, be ready.'

'You're asking me to do something I didn't even know I could do three days ago.'

Aleksander stops. He steps in front of Alina

'Do you believe I brought you here to make a fool of you?' he asks. 'To make a fool of both of us? Just keep your focus on me, and you'll be fine. Once he sees what you can do, and we have his blessing, you will remain here to train.'

'His blessing?' Alina asks. 'I thought you ruled the Grisha.'

'He may lead the Second Army, but the King is still the King,' you explain. 'I better go. I should enter with other Grisha. So, don't be afraid, Alina. You're gonna be alright.'

You hug Alina. She clings to you, not wanting you to leave her. Over her shoulder you meet Aleksander's eyes. They soften for a moment and his lips twitch upward. But once you move away from Alina, it's gone.

Aleksander leads Alina into the Throne Room. You enter with other Grisha after them. Alina looks up at the thrones, where the King and the Queen are sitting. She looks at Aleksander and he nods. She lifts her veil, takes the hat off and gives it to a servant.

'I thought she'd be taller,' the King says.

'I thought she was Shu,' the Queen says. 'Well, I guess she's Shu enough. Tell her… Oh, I don't know… good morning.'

'I don't actually speak Shu, Your Highness,' Alina says.

'Then what are you?' the Queen asks. Alina clearly doesn't know what to answer. She looks behind her and finds you with her gaze. You send her a reassuring smile.

'She is Alina Starkov… the Sun Summoner, moya tsaritsa,' Aleksander says for her, bowing his head, so Alina does the same. 'She will change the future. Starting now.'

He calls the shadows and the room is swallowed by darkness. You can feel how uneasy everyone feels. But you're not afraid. You find comfort in Aleksander's shadows.

After what feels like forever, the room is lit up by a bright light that's coming from Alina. People gasps and cover their eyes. You simply narrow them and see Aleksander holding Alina's hand, amplifying her. You're not surprised, since your friend doesn't know yet how to summon and control the sun.

After a moment Aleksander lets go of Alina's hand. The light and shadows are gone. People clap and exclaim "bravo".

'How long will she need?' the King, who has stood up during the presentation, asks.

'Destroying the Fold will be no easy feat,' Aleksander answers, walking forward. 'She alone may not be able to do it. She will remain with me at the Little Palace to train… undisturbed.'

'Then train her quickly,' the King says. 'Our wars have been a noble pursuit, but this chatter from the West about becoming a sovereign nation, that needs to stop. The sooner we are one country again, the better.'

'Agreed… moi tsar,' Aleksander says and bows. Alina follows suit. The King turns and walks back to his throne. Aleksander takes Alina's hand and leads her toward your group. They stop a bit in front of you and talk quietly. Then, Aleksander walks past you and Grisha start hugging Alina, welcoming her.

'You were perfect,' you laugh into Alina's ear when it's your turn. 'Truly. We should-'

'[Y/N],' you hear Aleksander's voice from the stairs. 'Can you come with me for a moment?'

You smile at Alina apologetically and turn to follow Aleksander. You hear Genya telling her you're one of General's most trusted Grisha and he often asks you to do things for him. You don't hear Alina's answer, however. You're completely focused on Aleksander who waits for you on top of the stairs.

'It didn't take as much time as I thought, so I find myself with a time to spare,' he says.

'What a coincidence,' you say. 'So do I.'

'Shall we finish then what we started in the morning?' Aleksander asks. You can't help but smile.

'I would be delighted,' you answer and follow your lover. He takes you to his chambers. Outside Ivan and Fedyor make sure you are undisturbed. Life is good.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Some of you may remember that in the first part it's mentioned you've never left Os Alta, implying you were born there. I changed it a bit, so it makes sense now. Thanks again and please, reblog, like and comment if you could.

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49547866/chapters/125170144

#aleksander kirigan #aleksander morovoza #the darkling #general kirigan #reader #aleksander kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #aleksander kirigan/reader #aleksander morozova/reader #the darkling/reader #general kirigan/reader #aleksander kirigan x you #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x you #general kirigan x you #aleksander kirigan/you #aleksander morozova/you #the darkling/you #general kirigan/you #the darkling & you #general kirigan & you #shadow and bone #fedyor kaminsky #ivan #ivan x fedyor #shadow and bone smut #alina starkov #genya safin

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

Meet my OC from Star-crossed :

*drumroll*

Nina Cerasus

Pic from artbreeder

Pronunciation of her name : Nee-nuh

Family stuff:

22 standard years old born in Naboo (in Heavenbound fic she is 32)

she has a rare heart disease HCM

when her mom got sick her dad left them

her mom died when she was 7 years old

she was raised by her grandmother

she goes to law school

her best friend is Polina who is a vampire

and Anfisa a who is a fae

Appearance:

female

pale skin (comes from her disease)

160 cm, 5'2 feet

skinny but fit and flexible (side effect of her meds and pilates classes)

her cheeks looks blushed (side effect from her meds)

she has freckles

she has diastema (visible gap between her two front upper teeth)

she wears glasses at home and contact lenses when she goes out

she has brunette straight hair, mid length and with curtain bangs, she wears it in different up dos and braids like Nabooan women and likes to clip pearls and star clips in the locks

her hands are always cold (comes from the meds from her disease)

she smells like cherries, almond and mint tea (inspired by tom ford's lost cherry perfume)

she has tattoos: one is on her spine shows different phases of the moon, also it glows in the dark, several ones on her fingers she has tiny dainty stars and constellations, and on the inner side of her hip is a loth wolf in a tribal style art, and a quote on her bacl ankles "Ad astra, per aspera."

her style includes gem colored light fabric dresses, mostly pant suits with cut outs

she has a bracelet a red string with a star shaped lucky charm (gift from her gran for protection)

she has a pair of jade droplet earrings, and an enchanted red amber pendant (both gifts from Maul)

she likes sparkly make up and nailpolish

she has a raspy seductive voice (inspired by sofia bush's voice)

Personality:

she is rather introvert and close to herself

likes to argue, good at keeping information to herself (she is to be a lawyer duh)

she has trust issues, and abandonment issues

says that she doesn't believe in love or relationships but secretly hopeless romantic

only dates but never in a relationship till she meets Maul and later Wolffe in my Heavenboun fic

doesn't like jedi or any Force user, she thinks they are snobs and dogmatics, but later she'll like Master Plo and his wolf pack

she isvery inteligent speaks in several languages

she enjoys art, music, dancing and reading

she is a bit of a nerd when it comes to astronomy (not the horoscope one)

she is currious and patient (especially with Maul)

she looks down on men, she thinks they all liars, and cheaters, and only good to manipulate/to be an acessory/ to please her in bed till she founds love

she will do everything to her friends and loved ones

she has a soft spot for Anfisa (my other OC)

hard to open up but actually super sweet

maybe a bit impulsive, but at same time she has a 5 year plan already

they call her the "ice queen" because her specialty is freezing out people and always looks calm and collected but under the hard shell she panic a lot

Other:

she is a party girl but only because she loves dancing

her hobby is star gazing and her dream job is to be a star cartographer

she never left Naboo before, but dreams to travel the galaxy and make star maps in Star-Crossed fic, in Heavenbound she leaves in Couruscant

she is allergic to tooka cat fur

she can't drive a ship

pretty good in self defense and shooting (both comes from Polina's idea to join self defense classes)

she collects celestial themed jewelry

she is terrible at cooking

to quit smoking she learnt how to tie a knot with her tounge from a cherry stem, so she always carry some cherries with her

AN: So that's all I could collect in this moment. Sorry for any mistype or bad English this is not my first language. Other character deep dive list and mood boards are in plans so I hope you'll like her as much as I do.

I plan to make one about what characters and persons inspired her personality, looks and name (no it not comes from mine even though it's similar to my nickname)

💖

Nika

Taglist: @hellhound5925 @cloneloverrrrr @stardustbee @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @firstofficerwiggles

#meet my oc #nina nerasus #oc nina cerasus #nika's writing #star-crossed the fic #maul and nina #if you have questions i am so happy to answear them #character deep dive #OC info dump #OC info

[etrangersvoyageant]

2023 favorites

Tagged by @godzilla-en-mexico

Albums

It was a pretty good year for music. These are my favourites (only records released in 2023):

Croatian Armor – A Part of You in Everything

Debby Friday – Good Luck

Deena Abdelwahed – Jbal Rrsas

Fatima Al Qadiri – Gumar

Field Lines Cartographer – Phases of This and Other Moons

HAAi - DJ Kicks

Nathan Micay – To The God Named Dream

Nabihah Iqbal – Dreamer

oqbqbo – Water Tiger

RatPajama – Drunken Lost Tapes

Schacke – Synchronized Breathing

SØS Gunver Ryberg – Spine

Tzusing – 绿帽 Green Hat

zaké & friends – Live at the Gothic Chapel

VA – Kotti Island Disc – An Auditive Snapshot

Books

Disclaimer: A few years ago I took a look at my ‘read’- shelves and found them too male and too white. So hence, I like to challenge myself. As for 2023 I put these goals up: - At least 50% LGHBTQIA authors. - At least 50% female authors (I’d like it to be as high as possible, but I wasn’t planning to only read lesbians.) -Read 2666 by Roberto Bolano.

Unbeknownst to me at the start of the year, I had a lot of trouble with my own work, which limited reading in general. However, I did manage to hit all my targets. I read 21 women (63%), 17 LGHTQIA authors (51%) and dedicated a part of Summer to Bolano’s epic novel.

Looking back, my favourite books were written by the LGBTQIA authors. Audre Lorde's Sister Outsider was the definite #1, but there were also some other great efforts:

Slavenka Drakulić – How We Survived Communism and Even Laughed

Akwaeke Emezi – The Death of Vivek Oji

Shola von Rheinhold – Lote

Adrienne Rich – Arts of the Possible

Lisa Weeda – Aleksandra

Film I’m not much of a movie watcher in general, but I have m moments when I make time to watch something that seems interesting to me. Last year Nomadland (Chloé Zhao), Anatomy of Time (Jakrawal Nilthamrong) and Atlantique (Mati Diop) stayed with me.

I'd like to tag some people, but we're already a week in the new year, so I can imagine if you're not interested. That being said, if you do make one, please tag me.

#2023 #personal

[necromastersdomainstuff]

The G2 Protectors given more individuality because while G2 was rather middling in execution, it did have its fair share of neat ideas and I think the Protectors were some of their better ones. The launcher gimmicks they had were stupid fun and Korgot is De Facto The Best One by virtue of the cannon placement and bucking the “only the water tribe is female” trend of the original run.

Profiles under the cut:

The vast deserts of Po-Wahi are dangerous for any one villager to travel alone, fraught with frightful beasts, hazardous sands and the risk of being raided by bandits. Safe traversal requires a good courier, and this is where Nilkuu comes in. An expert at transporting goods and passengers alike, Nilkuu's staff and considerable combat prowess ensure safe passage. Largely mercenary in profession and demeanor, Nilkuu tends to keep others at an arm's length, but anecdotal evidence from select clients suggests that he's far softer than he lets on.

Korgot is the eldest daughter of Turaga Whenua of Onu-Koro. The vast, ever-expanding territory of Onu-Wahi is fraught with peril, and to keep her people safe, Korgot has thoroughly trained herself in multiple disciplines of combat, even going so far as to modify her own body to install a cannon in it (much to her father's chagrin.) Though serious and often bullheaded, her devotion to her people is unquestionable, and has more than earned the respect of her peers.

Vizuna is a fleet-footed archer from the treetops of Le-Wahi. While the Gukko force gets into the thick of the fray, Vizuna does his best work from the shadows, providing support while Kongu's forces keep the enemy distracted. The sensitive tendrils growing out of his ankles alert him to any nearby presence, making him nearly impossible to get the drop on. In spite of his considerable skill, Vizuna is quite modest, downright bashful even. When relieved of his shift, Vizuna can often be found tending to his treetop garden or attempting a rendezvous with Korgot.

Kivoda has the important, if not necessarily the most glamorous, occupation of cartographer, exploring and painstakingly logging the reefs of Ga-Wahi. Through his considerable knowledge, his fellow Ga-Matoran are able to find key fishing spots, chart shortcuts across the sea, and keep an eye out for dangerous predators like the Tarakava or Takea. It's arduous work, constantly growing and occassionally dangerous, but Kivoda is nothing if not devoted... sometimes to the point of being stuck in his own little world. He does quite love his family, however, and looks out for his younger sister Macku, though this often entails having to drag her back home from Po-Koro when she sneaks out to visit Hewkii.

Narmoto serves the crucial role of being Turaga Vakama's personal bodyguard. Though far from being as strong as a Toa, Narmoto is still a force to be reckoned with, equipped with twin fire whips and a back-mounted concussion blaster. Where Vakama goes, Narmoto will invariably follow, ever wary of their surroundings. While he takes his job quite seriously, Narmoto is also possessed of a dry sense of humor-- one that flies over the heads of some, but the perceptive Whenua and Nuju have been able to pick up on and appreciate.

The elderly, wizened Izotor serves as a monk and scholar at the Ko-Koro temple. Rumor has it he was a great warrior in his heyday, but his encroaching age has forced him to take on a more bureaucratic role. His sharp wit is matched only by his scathing tongue-- Izotor is brutally honest, and not one to keep quiet on the matter of the truth. The current Toa of Ice, Kopaka, respects him greatly, and when he feels Nuju is being too oblique he'll turn to Izotor for guidance.

#bionicle #protectors #matoran #nilkuu #korgot #vizuna #kivoda #narmoto #izotor #bionicle g2 #redesigns #my art

[shipcestuous]

This is one of those times I'm so glad this blog and its followers are so open about obscure fandoms, weird takes, and OCs (even when inspired by canon characters). If not for you guys, I wouldn't really have anyone to talk about this and get it out of my head!

Honestly I'm a little bit embarrassed about this, because it all starts with Disney comics. The Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck ones. In Europe and Brazil, they're still going strong, with plenty of new stories across all possible genres, about all possible characters, being published regularly. You can find more information on the topic here: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/ComicBook/DisneyMouseAndDuckComics

Anyway, not really the sort of thing people usually associate with incest or otherwise "problematic" shipping, right? But, there's this new series of stories that's still being published about an ancestor of Scrooge McDuck (Donald Duck's super rich but stingy uncle) that has always been mentioned through the comics' history as a corsair. You could call the whole thing an attempt to expand on his character and give him an origin story, as he starts out as a humble innkeeper's son with big dreams and secretly join the crew of a corsair in the employ of the British Crown against his parents' will, and as of now he's still nowhere near the fierce captain he's know as in the rest of the canon.

Well, I suppose that's already long enough for a premise! To get to the point of what I actually want to say, in the most recent story in the series, the crew Scrooge's ancestor's sailing with is tasked by the king to find a treasure with a map he entrusted their captain with, all without running afoul of a dreaded pirate who's been targeting the Crown's navy and corsair ships. However, the captain brags about this important mission while eating out with the crew and... guess who shows up on their route, after his men overhear and run back to refer everything to him?

The pirate and his crew make quick work of the corsair ship's crew but (this being a kids' story) they're ready to leave without sinking it or killing anyone as soon as the captain hands them the map. Except, Scrooge's ancestor is as hot-tempered and stubborn as his descendant, and him and another member of the crew, a young female cartographer who's as much of an idealistic dreamer as he is, end up getting themselves captured and forced to do grueling manual work on the pirate ship after refusing to accept that their captain could really just want to surrender like that and still trying to fight back even after everything was over.

Sure enough, right after it turns out the captain only surrendered so easily because he and the king set a trap for the pirate: the map doesn't lead to any treasure but to a tract of sea that ships are rumored to never come back from, and the captain's bragging wasn't carelessness but a way to set the plan in motion. He hid the truth from his crew because he was ashamed of letting himself be talked into using a trick against the enemy instead of beating him in a fair fight, but now two people under his command will pay the price for his deception... of course, the rest of the crew gets him to admit he still remembers the route on the map and to track down the pirate ship to save them despite the risk for themselves.

Meanwhile, back with the pirates, Scrooge's ancestor enters the pirate captain's quarters... and is promptly kicked out in a seemingly nonsensical (and very defensive-looking) rage, because he caught him staring wistfully at the portrait of some guy on the wall. (Very Hark! A Vagrant: Nemesis comic, if you ask me: http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=327)

Stay with me, I promise this is where things start getting good! Also, at this point I was totally already thinking "oh, is that a portrait of his dad? Maybe he was navy and he was always too busy sailing off on the king's orders to be with him, so now he's bitter...?"

Anyway, things finally clear themselves up when the pirates reach the spot marked on the map and realize they've been duped, as their ship is now stuck in an impenetrable mass of mud and algae and it looks like they'll be forced to live out their days alone on some tiny little island in the Carribean, miles away from all civilization. Tempers start running hot... until they meet a crew that suffered the same fate years ago. The older crew's captain turns out to have been a navy officer and tells them they really have no way out but offers them a place in the community he and his men have built for themselves. But then the pirate captain... starts to antagonize him right away and asks, in a very resentful tone, if he really doesn't remember him.

It turns out I wasn't entirely wrong! The older crew captain recognizes the pirate captain as his younger brother and is shocked and appalled at the man he became. But the pirate captain says he has no right to talk (or even to address him with his real name, which no one has probably called him in years after he chose a more intimidating one for his new position) after he abandoned him when he needed him most.

The older brother argues that he did no such thing, but they just view the same event from two very different perspectives. When the pirate captain was a child, the older brother, who used to live with him and their grandmother, told him he'd be leaving to join the navy because that was his destiny and he had to follow its call. The (still not a) pirate captain begged him to stay, but in return was simply told that he'd understand when he got older and found his own calling, and that their grandmother would take care of him. Suffice to say, he wasn't impressed. Instead, after the older brother left, he swore he'd one day take his revenge on all the king's ships for taking his brother away. And then, of course, the older brother's ship got stuck and he never came home to make him reconsider his goal.

In fact, back in the present of the story, the pirate captain implies he believes the older brother always meant to go away and never come back anyway, possibly because he wanted fame and fortune and their humble family life just wasn't doing it for him. And after implying that, he immediately throws himself at the older brother, sword first, forcing him into a duel. Who's winning and who's losing seems to alternate from moment to moment but, eventually, the older brother kind of calls out the pirate captain for fighting recklessly because he's driven only by his grudge and overpowers him, ending the duel without either of them getting harmed. The pirate captain claims he'll never forgive him and the older brother points out he's never asked for that, but he hopes the pirate captain will learn to see things from a new perspective now. Then he leaves him to stew in his conflicted feelings and once again stare after him as he goes away.

In the end, the corsair ship comes to save the day, minding the danger and keeping far off the coast enough not to get stuck too, and offer to bring everything back to England. The older brother and his crew have gotten so used to life on the island that they don't want to leave anymore, especially since it's not even like all the people they used to know won't have moved on with their lives in their absence. But when it comes tthe time for the pirates to choose, their captain looks to his brother again... and hesitates. A member of his crew (perhaps only out of self-interest, but I like to read a little more into it...) steps forward and helpfully points out that if they go back with the corsair ship, they will all be arrested as soon as they disembark. The pirate captain agrees and so they also stay. (Why couldn't they have pretended to go with the corsair and his crew peacefully then take control of the ship and divert it to go to Tortuga or somewhere else? Maybe they'd left all the weapons except the captain's sword on the pirate ship. Maybe it was just too risky. Or, well, maybe...)

In the conclusion of the story, Scrooge's ancestor reflects that the pirates got a much better ending than what they could have ever hoped for. But it's clear he's thinking of the pirate captain in particular, and how now he's finally reunited with his brother and can work to repair their relationship while hopefully also becoming a better person. As a character, the pirate captain actually mostly serves as a foil to Scrooge's ancestor himself, who starts the story still resenting his parents for forbidding him to chase his dreams of freedom and adventure and trying to convince him that there was no other path for him but taking over the family inn sometimes in the future when they couldn’t run it anymore, thus refusing to write to them when he had the chance to even just to tell them he's alright and doing well for himself. Thanks to him, he sees the hardened and vindictive person he could become, but also that when you're lucky enough to be given a second chance, you should take it. And in particular, he learns how important family is and how terrible it is to push it away or lose it. (His cartographer friends also helps a lot with this last thing, as she reveals to him that her real reason for sailing is that her parents were adventurers until one day they disappeared on a sea voyage and she never saw them again: she thinks they're still somewhere out there and won't allow herself to lose her hope of finding them. I hope she does in the next stories in the series, and gives me some more complex family relationships...)

Now, you get why my incest senses were a-tingle from the first to the last page, don't you...? I really hope so! It was a beautiful story, bittersweet and actually fairly mature for its target audience of kids.

And yet... it bothered me a bit how the pirate captain was mostly written off by the narrative as immature and blinded by hatred. Sure, he was a bad person doing bad things (or as bad as possible in a Disney comic, at least), he let his inner turmoil turn him from a sweet kid into a criminal, and he obviously shouldn’t have tried to skewer his older brother with a sword first thing after finding him again. But he'd clearly never stopped loving him and was deeply wounded by what he thought had happened.

And also... he did have a point, sort of? Chasing your dreams can be a good and noble thing, and that must have surely been the angle the story was going for, to support and parallel the theme of Scrooge's ancestor being a dreamer with an unsupportive family himself. But really, leaving a child with a "oh, it's just my destiny, I absolutely can't stay but also I won't elaborate any further, you'll just get it when you're older" is... yeah, no, I'm almost impressed the pirate captain didn't grow up even more messed up and angsty. (Mind you, he's the kind of character who dresses all in black, with messy long black hair artistically framing and often partially hiding his face and a cool facial scar. He's plenty emo already.)

And while the older brother had no intention of abandoning him or getting stuck on the island, and he did have a right to have his own ambitions outside of taking care of him, I still think saying “I’m sorry for what you went through, and that you thought I didn’t love you,” instead of acting alternatively indignant and stoic and insisting the pirate captain just needed to see things from his point of view, would have gone a long way? Or at least, throwing in a quick "I wanted to come back, once, but now I see I might already have everything I need on this island," instead of immediately saying "we got used to living here so we're staying," might have helped establish that he also really did care and want to patch things up, rather than making it look like the pirate captain was the only one who needed to make an effort? Plus, there's the whole thing about how the story sticks to period sensibilities for some things and going against the British Crown of all things is in itself always framed as bad even when the king proves to be sort of a dastardly scumbag himself, I guess...

So, inspired by both the positive and negative sides of the story I found myself thinking about after reading... I made up in my head a little original story loosely inspired by the two brothers (but with human characters, not anthropomorphic animals, lol) that I'll probably never write down. (Mostly because it's really just a bunch of poorly connected scenes, at the moment... and I don't really feel like doing all the research I'd need for it, not being very familiar with the historical period at all besides, like, watching the Pirates of the Caribbean movies...)

In this story, the older brother is still a naval officer who (somehow) found himself stranded in an unknown island away from civilization, unable to leave or inform anyone back home of his troubles (perhaps due to something supernatural, this time) before managing to come back with what was left of his crew after building a raft and being found and rescued by some merchant ship against all odds and probably a sea storm or two. But this time, there really was an element of wanting more than a monotonous "provincial life" to his choice to sail off, rather than just some vague inner calling, even if he did always mean to come back and see to bettering the younger brother's life as well and giving him a good education, after making enough money for all that.

While the younger brother is still a pirate captain, but this time, he's had to fend for himself ever since the grandmother died a few years after the older brother's departure (their parents having both passed away when he was very little), and becoming a pirate was a choice born out of necessity as much as grief and hatred. His first years as a young cabin boy and his climbing through the ranks until he became captain after that were anything but easy and bloodless, and he's learned to trust no one. No one, except the oldest members of his crew, who've stuck with him ever since they all staged a mutiny against their previous captain and supported him when he took the command, and who are now basically the only family he believes he has, even if he tries his hardest to keep even them at arm's length because, under a carefully curated tough, scary exterior, he's secretly terrified that if he allows himself to be close to someone else, he'll just lose them too. (He has abandonment issues the size of a house.)

Once back in their homeland, the older brother tries to get back his position in the navy, where he’d been rapidly climbing through the ranks too before his disappearance, but he can barely prove who he is, as barely anyone remembers him and he looks like some random shipwrecked sailor telling tall tales. And even after his identity isn’t in doubt anymore, him being reluctant to talk about why exactly he disappeared (again, perhaps due to something supernatural, but maybe it’s about trauma too) makes everyone think he’s a bit touched in the head and unfit to reprise his role. His pride wounded and his attempts to go back to his old life and regain a sense of normalcy about to be dashed, he impulsively vows to capture this young hotshot pirate he's been hearing about since his return and who’s been putting the king’s navy to shame and robbing his merchant ships blind, and gathers a new crew made up of what few of his men decided to stick with him instead of leaving to try and find their families and friends again (or who just didn’t blame him for getting them stranded for slong) and what few new recruits agreed to join him for what little play he could offer…

Obviously, they all get killed or captured by the younger brother. Who is about to kill the older one during a fight at sea but then recognizes him as soon as he gets close enough to strike the fatal blow and just knocks him out instead, ordering his men to take him prisoner, claiming he’ll see if they can get some ransom or some info about the navy’s plans to dealing with them out of him and his ragtag crew but really having no idea what he’ll do next. He is, of course, internally devastated and furious and so so confused, with a dash of incredulous relief and excitement he desperately tries to repress deep down inside him, under his icy exterior. His most loyal man immediately pick up on it and start suspecting something's up.

The older brother isn’t quite as keep on the uptake but, eventually, he figures out that the despicable (yet handsome) pirate whom he’s supposed to bring to justice and who keeps glowering at him while ignoring the rest of his men and making angry, cryptic remarks at him, is really the sweet, sensitive little brother he thought he’d left safe and sound at home and was crushed to be unable to find again (he tried to look for him at first when he came back, but then he didn’t find anyone when he returned to their old house, got told by locals the old lady there had died and the boy had moved shortly after, and resigned himself to having lost his family and being unable to do anything about it) and, more than that, who clung to him and begged him so earnestly to stay when he told him goodbye.

Naturally, now they’re both confused, devastated and furious at each other. Cue a back and forth of accusations that they both deny and insults that cut deeper than either of them could imagine. And both crews figuring out what’s really going on, with the older brother's men realizing they've just followed a possible madman right into a convoluted family drama and thus exasperated at both him and their own life choices, and the younger brother’s (especially the older men, who knew him when he was a novice sailor who’d sometimes let slip sad little things about his family and watched him grow into their cold, ruthless leader) doubling the hostility towards the older brother because they feel super protective of their captain in their own way and don’t want him to get any more emotionally hurt.

From then on, it’s all about petty skirmishes hiding deeper issues and a lot of hurt on both sides… because I quite simply think not nearly enough media about siblings being enemies or rivals takes advantage of all the possible childish pettiness of the dynamic. The older brother tries to corrupt a member of the younger’s crew to carry a message to the local authorities the next time they have to make port to get supplies, only for him to relay everything to his captain? “Our honored guest, the brave pirate-hunter, would do well to remember how he could never even talk his way out of a thrashing from our grandmother after sneaking out at night with his friends, before he attempts any further negotiations.” The younger brother sends down his men to the older’s cell to threaten him? “Mr. Bosun, please be so kind as to remind your captain that I used to tuck him in every night and sing him lullabies when he woke up from having night terrors, so he’ll have to do better than this if he really wants me to see him as someone I should be intimidated by.” And yet, as this goes on, sometimes it ends up sounding like a much easier sort of bickering between brothers, almost like they’re making up for lost time or they both just really really want to remember their shared childhood and to test the waters to see if the other harbors the same wish… and at some point, even the crews notice this and start to warm up to both, wish for a peaceful resolution between them (which would be beneficial to them as well, at least in the case of the older brother's crew'), and very carefully start nudging them in the right direction to try to get them to admit how they really feel.

To eventually move the “plot” on, I think the brothers would then have to team up against another threat, possibly an older and even fiercer pirate who pretended to ally himself with the younger brother only to stab him in the back later because he felt threatened by his rising star, with the younger brother already knowing he should keep an eye on him from the beginning due both to pirates not being the most reliable allies in general and to his own trust issues but being too distracted by the older brother being back in his life to really pay attention to anything else in the end.

After a bit more of a heated back and forth with plenty of recriminations (“this is your fault, none of it would've happened if you’d just stayed gone forever!” “Oh, so it’s my fault if you’re a criminal who associates him scum and, somehow, that didn’t work out splendidly for you?”) finding themselves needing to work together to survive would cause the love both brothers deny to still feel for each other to take center stage and push them to look out for one another, have each other’s back in the face of mortal danger, and finally, in the quieter moments, admit that they really want nothing more than what they used to have together and talk about what really happened to both of them openly and honestly. They’d both be horrified at what the other’s gone through in their years apart and regret causing them more pain on top of that, and even with some difficulty and uncertainty caused by the fear of being refused by the other, they’d both finally take responsibility for their own bad choices, flaws, and mistakes. And then… maybe they’d also find the courage to admit that their feelings aren’t strictly familial anymore more and that (surprise!) this has been a slowburn incest story all along. (The crews are, for the most part, supportive. Incredibly weirded out but, to be fair, most of them have seen even weirder shit at sea…)

In the end, they obviously take down the other pirate together and, after that, I could see three possible conclusions:

The navy assumes the older brother is entirely responsible for the other pirate’s capture, gives him back his position, hires his crew, and expects him to bring the younger brother and his men to justice as well. The older brother pretends to go along with all this but at the last moment he lets the younger get away, making it look like an unfortunate mistake. The two of them know one day they may meet and have to fight each other again, and quietly pine away for each other and their impossible love in a bittersweet ending.

Same as above, but it’s only the younger brother who assumes the older will accept the whole deal and, at best, allow him to get away, at worst, let him hang. Instead, the older brother credits him and his men for helping with the capture and pleads their case to the authorities until he gets them all a pardon and the chance to work as corsairs in the service of the Crown. The younger brother still has a healthy dislike for the king and the navy, but now that the older is back and loves him as family and more, maybe he can’t rightly blame them for taking him away anymore. And taking the deal (and the chance not to have to fight his brother again) is, after all, better than dying an taking all his crew along with him for his pride…

Same as above, but the older brother has become disillusioned with both the navy and the Crown through the story, so he bids goodbye to all that he started out trying to regain and refuses. The two brothers then sail off together and retire with their respective crews somewhere where no one knows them, hiding their true identities so they can all live as they wish.

In addition, somewhere during the whole mess… just because I love kink as character exploration and a bit of flustered jealousy here and there in my incest… the older brother somehow finds out that the younger has a thing for men who are older than him and able/willing to both dominate him and make him feel safe, cared for and cherished at the same time. It absolutely stems from the abandonment issues he helped cause, and anyway the younger brother never picks guys he feels he could really be very close to or have any permanent (or as permanent as a pirate could make it) relationship with (because he’d much break things off soon than stay and see if they’d run off on him later, even if during sex, he can’t help but want them to reassure him they’re not going anywhere, even if just for the moment), but the older brother absolutely freaks out when he first learns of it.

He tries to tell himself that it’s because homosexuality is wrong and he doesn’t want to think of his own brother debasing himself like that (even if he’s well aware that men getting closer over long voyages at sea might often find they have an interest in that sort of things, and despite trying to repress his own instincts for years, he's also had a couple of boyfriends himself when he was younger) and then, once their relationship has improved a bit, that he doesn't like it because the younger brother's lovers just seem uncaring and untrustworthy  and thus unworthy of him. (Maybe the other pirate they end up fighting together is the latest one on a list of unadvisable lovers, because under all the distrust there’s some simmering attraction, just to complicate everything further? Him perceiving that something's not quite right and taunting both brothers with the relationship, stirring up one's shame and rage and the other's jealousy and protectiveness and general possessiveness, would be kind of...) But near the end of the story, he’s forced to recognize that he’s simply attracted to that vulnerable side of the younger brother, that chink in the armor he’s painstakingly built over the years, and wants to have it (as well as all the rest of him) to himself only. Until he does, thought, that’s another thing driving a wedge between the brothers, as the younger one feels, on top of everything else, ashamed of his softer and more needy side being revealed to someone who hurt him and also rejected for who he really is by someone he can’t help but still care for. (And, even if only subconsciously, afraid that he might never have a chance with the older brother, after such a negative reaction...)

I realize I’ve written like a whole novel without meaning to, and I promise I’ll stop now, as well as apologize for the endless rant in your inbox. XD But damn, it really does feel good, getting all that out and sharing it with someone who I know won’t judge!

Inspiration comes from all places. No need to be embarrassed if it was a Donald Duck comic! That's a really rich, mature storyline between brothers from such a source, and the OCs and their dynamic you built from it is so cool. That would make a great novel. I'm such a sucker for brothers in an "i hate you but I don't really" situation.

I'm so glad you shared your thoughts with us!

#asks #r: brothers #original fiction #noiv #nr #walt disney comics #tw: incest

[siderealxmelody]

The Forever War: Part II

During the Daglan Civil War, Bryce was a cartographer and accompished Mage who studies the arcane secrets of magic. She and Rigelus went to the same rigorous schooling, competing for accolades as they grew in their prowess.

As the war took hold they were pulled from their school and put to work. The nature of their family alliances put them on opposite sides of the war.

They were never close, enjoying one upping each other with runic magic puzzles and traps at battle sites or other drop off points.

When Thurr came with the new army Nismera gave him he brought with him three spies under her mate's direct command.

Juniper, Danika and Fury set out to befriend Bryce. To make her feel special. She had never been the one in the spotlight - that always belonged to her sisters Imogen, the next Daglan Empress or Camryn, the tracker in Samkiel's personal Cadre. It was rumored Camryn could follow even the most elusive animal without getting caught.

Bryce had never had friends like them, she adored it - the late nights, the drinks, the tavern stops. She was seen for the first time in a long time and relished it.

When it was time Danika sprang the trap and dragged her to Nismera. There the Daglan warrior queen tortured her for information on Samkiel's movements.

She had learned from her mate that Rigelus and Bryce's souls sang the same tune. When Bryce wouldn't break she had Rigelus torture her. He couldn't, and so failed her little test.

They were both locked deep in her cells, forced to watch as the other was tortured to the point of passing out.

When the war ended and everyone began to rebuild in this new realm, Bryce and Rigelus followed Vincent to Vaalbara.

Neither wished to be close to Daglan and their politics, they wanted to be left alone.

Vincent had them slowly archive and catalog the hundreds of war records and histories for him. Bryce's sisters followed her and chose to work with Vincent to build up his court.

In this new world, Samkiel had retired fo Avallen - a mist covered island to heal with his brother Hellas and Hellas mate Anneith.

As Vaalbara grew so did its power and greed. Vincent's mate Alana set up gladiatoral pits and pleasure stables for the elite.

The bought changelings from Lanthys and Vesperus's breeding program. Eventually this culminated in Theia. She was sent to the Stables where she met Aidas. He mated her and brought her to court.

Theia slowly seeded her influence there and when was the time lead a revolution against Vaalbara.

Her revolution united the Changelings far in their archipelago. Her forces destoryed Fion and Sive's country estate, sending them and Thurr and Mala's families scrambling for safety.

The Daglan in Wendlyn were slow to act, only interceding when Achlys was hurt. She was Vincent's younger sister - as she lay dying her Daglan mate Korok ascended her to a Daglan, breaking a cardinal rule among the Daglan.

The war was slow and grinding, the Changelings had come prepared with weapons and had evolved to be naturally repellent to the magic the Daglan and Valg wielded.

As Sebastian and his friends grew up, tragedy after tragedy hardened them. Neculai's deaths saw them at the mercy of changeling forces - their parents fighting to far away from to come to their aid.

For ten years they were on their own, fighting and surviving with only their instincts.

It was Sarai that killed Theia, dealing a final blow to the female. Natalia and Maeve snuggled Theia's daughters to their Daglan mates.

Sebastian, Athril, and Viren helped Achlys take control of the changeling archipelago in the ensuing power vacuum.

Valg who had supported Achlys grew fearful of another master. Hyrieus, Theon, Furiad, and Zimri sought to run - being targeted for their children - their power.

Even Korok's siblings fought to stop Achlys rise to power - but she won in the end. She slammed wards down to keep those she deemed as threats out.

Vincent would later find and acquire the children her ex-Cadre had hidden around the realms, helping her train new Blades for her empire.

Creon, Anaxia, Shahar, Sandriel, Gavriel and Orion were honed into deadly assassins. Nismera mate Isaiah made sure to make them remorseless. Sebastian occasionally visited Creon and Orion, keeping an eye on them as he'd promised their father he would.

When the group eventually found out the truth of their birth families - some rebelled. Anaxia, Shahar, and Orion lead another revolt against her, changeling Clans rising with them.

Creon, Sandriel, and Gavriel met them, turning the war bloody. But Achlys won in the end - binding every changeling and blade's magic.

Sandriel and Gavriel were exempt for their loyalty. Creon who had nearly betrayed her for a rebel, Firebird named Lyn had his magic bound, and his voice stolen.

He and Anaxia were mates, he knew that in his bones even if they'd not completed all the steps to seal the bond.

1. Blood - one's magic sings recognizing the other's magic and complimentary power.

2. Body - the couple begins courting and building a physical bond.

3. Soul - the couple meet in a trance like dream-bridge exchanging vows and bearing their souls.

Creon and Anaxia had not gotten farther than the second step - but Creon knew Anaxia. She would follow him to the ends of the earth - to death.

He couldn't do that to her, couldn't watch her shatter like that.

So he sowed discord, pretending to fall for one of her rebel friends. Hoping that it would be a story Achlys fell for. He shattered Anaxia's heart hoping his rage and hate of Achlys would trick her into thinking he hated her.

Anything to save her from what he'd have to do. It didn't, she saw through it - but whatever was there didn't survive the argument they had. They were both too stubborn, too volatile and rather burn it all to the ground than wait.

200 years later, he'd convinced himself he'd been wrong. 200 years of being alone, of not caring of anyone or anything at all.

It all seemed hopeless till Alys appeared in one of the trade ships from one of the Summer Clan's tithes. How did she get in? How did she get pass the wards at all from Wendlyn??

She says she was looking for her sister, but could she be what they were waiting for? Could this be the sign they all needed?

He began to train her, to slowly feel again. To feel warmth and emotions for the first time in 200 years.

Slowly news began to trickle in of the other territories being stabilized. Midgard fell as some changeling female named Merka took to the city. The last stronghold Bryce and Rigelus had built after Vaalbara burned to the ground. Merka claimed it was to do with her sister - but Creon had no idea what Achlys and her people had to do with it.

He didn't much care to find out either.

He got word from Isaiah, he'd taken control of the changeling army there bringing them to the Alliance's secret base. Orion and Shahar were with him, they'd taken Bryce and Rigelus hostage forcing them fight for them.

Creon took Alys with him there, working with them to locate the bindings that Mother made real to hold the changelings hostage. Sandriel and Gavriel refused to aid him, staying loyal to their queen.

Gavriel was left injured in the scuffle, Sandriel taken prisoner. In the ensuing chaos Alys could only free his voice or his magic - Alys was young, only 22 summers.

She wished to hear his voice, to hear the words he signed to her in those quiet moments.

Creon was grateful to have his voice - but they won't win a war with that. As the Alliance began to prepare, he directed Tared (Lyn's mate) to Achlys dungeons to bring Leesan to them.

He'd been a promising scholar for Achlys - but he'd refused his duty, to bring Sarai's daughter to them.

Perhaps if they could get a call to Wendlyn she could come to them now. Leesan she said she was as morally driven as her mother was. Did this mean they'd be able to drag The Wild Ones out of retirement? Would Sebastian take up his title as Blood Shrike again? Would they have another Darkling? Would Sarai summon her blood mists?

Would they finally free his people? Would they finally get rid of foreign rulers?

Creon tried to ignore his growing attraction to Anaxia, it was Alys who had understood - who had vouched for him when no one else had. It was her who had seen him when no one else did.

But as the choices grew incredibly hard - he was reminded of her soft heart, of her nativity - could they afford that?

Could his heart afford such things?

Did he want to keep protecting her? Leashing himself to her ethics?

Or did he want to be free? To indulge the bloody chaos he knew he'd find fighting with Anaxia and by her side?

Did any of this matter when they had bigger things to worry about?

@luxmaeastra

@starlsssankt

@sankta-alina-s

#updated and more coherent #🤩🤩 #ooc post #the forever war verse

[orlissa]

Wip ask: 🌀❄

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven’t written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing…

As a slight twist on their first meeting, Aleksander responds with overwhelming desire to Alina presence, which prompts him to accompany her to Os Alta. Not wanting her to spend the night in the carriage, he commandeers a noble's hunting lodge, and, not being able to quench this physical attraction (and having an inkling that Alina might be feeling something similar), goes to her room - finding her bathing - and plainly states that he would very much like to sleep with her. After some interlude, smut follows.

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

(From the same story outlined above)

In his centuries of waiting patiently, Aleksander had taken countless possibilities into consideration regarding the fabled Sun Summoner: that they would be male or female, a child barely out of the cradle or on their way to adolescence; a Ravkan, a Kerch, a Shu, a Fjerdan, a Zemeni; a nobody, the child of a Grisha, a child of a prince. He had even considered the possibility that, through some cruel twist of fate, he himself would beget the Sun Summoner. He believed that he was prepared for everything. Well, turns out he was wrong. Because he definitely did not expect this to happen. It wasn’t that the newly found Sun Summoner was basically an adult, or a woman, or an orphan, or half-Shu. These were all factors he had prepared for. What took him by absolute surprise in the most inconvenient way was what Alina Starkov of Keramzin, Assistant Cartographer of the Royal Surveyor Corps made him feel from the very first moment he touched her—no, for the very first moment he was aware of her presence, with his back to her, not even knowing what she looked like.Desire. Pure, unadulterated, ardent, burning, all-consuming desire to protect, to comfort, to touch, to taste, to have—to explore and know her body better than he knew his own.

#ask #fanfic #darklina

[artemisia-black]

2022 Roundup

Thanks for nudge @ashesandhackles-- I've edited this slightly

Post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular),

your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year,

your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year,

and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year Five pieces I'm proud of

The seven names of Mrs Zabini- This fic was some of my best writing. I loved writing female rage and a compelling antihero.

Born as a Blackthorn Tree- my first Bellatrix fic. I loved how dark this was and the exploration of her bloodlust.

Portrait of a Lady- My Walburga fic that explored her life in little vignettes. I loved writing this bit:

The portrait she was about to pose for would ensure he suffered even when she was dead and gone. 

Sirius Black's guide to using an extraordinarily intelligent cat to order a broom. - This fic is exactly how I imagine his sense of humour- dark, whimsical and slightly inappropriate.

Sirius Black and the Goblet of Freud - I really enjoyed writing the dark humour of Sirius and Walburga in therapy.

2. Top improvements

Conveying emotions - I think I've really improved in this area and most of my characters have an intense emotional inner world

Atmosphere- I often write this world that is decadent and sensuous but also smothering and dangerous. I have found my niche, and I do it well.

Characterisation

3. Next year

Write more regularly and actually put my WiPs on a posting schedule.

Try and write more characters- not just Sirius lol

4. Favorite lines - I'm going to cheat and pick a line from each of my fave fics.

 "I became a cartographer compiling a mental map of my body’s erogenous zones and using it to command my lovers into providing me with rapturous pleasure. Devoting themselves to me like heathens prostrated at the altar of their last rites."

"Another long pause sent Bellatrix’s body tingling with the calm she always felt before the kill. A slowing of time and space, where she held the ultimate power."

"The shards of her heart tore at her chest, causing her to scream into the void of the now empty house until her voice became hoarse. Sobbing into the jumpers that retained his smell, the only thing that remained of her child. "

"Crookshanks seemed to sense this desire in me and the instant I returned to my den, he dropped the copy of ‘Which Broomstick?’ in my lap and we debated which broom to buy Harry. By debated, I mean I chose the most expensive one while he sat on my lap licking his bollocks."

"I shuddered, making a mental note to either never drink vodka on an empty stomach, or learn to masturbate before deciding to go near my phone. "

#sirius black #regulus black #walburga black #bellatrix lestrange #harry potter

[halos-top-alien-model]

Sangheili Bracket Round 2 Match 2

More info below:

Tul 'Juran:

Debuted in Halo: Shadow of Intent

Born on Rahnelo as the sole daughter of Kaiden Tulum 'Juranai on Jan. 29th, 2535, Tul served as the captain of the guard and scion to her family's keep, wielding an energy lance. In 2553, the Prelate Tem'Bhetek attacked and captured her father and older brothers, leading to a request to join the Shadow of Intent to carry out a "right of release". In a clash with the Prelate, she learned her family members were killed, but continued to aid the Shadow of Intent in their mission. She would join a small group of volunteers to destroy a prototype Halo that the Prelate's boss hoped to kill the Sangheili species with, helping Rtas 'Vadum in killing the Minister of Preparation. Following a briefing by Rtas 'Vadum to Thel 'Vadam, her performance led to both agreeing that the restrictions on female military service should be lifted.

Zuka 'Zamamee:

Debuted in Halo: The Flood

A SpecOps serving the Fleet of Particular Justice, Zuka would join the boarding of the Pillar of Autumn at the start of the conflict at / on Installation 04, nearly being killed by the Master Chief. He would be discovered and rescued by Unggoy led by Yayap in a ploy to avoid taking part in further combat, but Zuka himself would misunderstand this and appointed Yayap his replacement assistant in SpecOps. Later, he would attend a meeting where he pitched a plan to kill the Master Chief - who he correctly assumed to be a big danger, but was denied under the belief he was having "combat-induced hysteria". Not long after, the Master Chief raided the Truth and Reconciliation, causing opinions amongst the Covenant leadership to change and Zuka to be granted permission to eliminate the Spartan at any cost.

Zuka would once again correctly deduce the Covenant battle network to be compromised, leading him to purposefully leave breadcrumbs for the AI Cortana to learn of the Cartographer in the hopes of luring the Master Chief in a trap. However, his trap would go awry, leading him and Yayap to hide inside a nearby supply case while their forces were wiped out by the Spartan. Later, upon reporting his failures, the decapitated head of one of his superiors - who failed to contain the Flood - would be presented as a warning to not fail again. His next attempt at the Master Chief's life would start off with staging Yayap to be captured and taken to Alpha Base so he could act as a spy. Once Yayap spotted Master Chief inside the base, Zuka arrived in a stolen Pelican with SpecOp troops inside. An attack on the base with started and Yayap recovered, although the Spartan himself had already left the base before the attack even began. Yayap would led Zuka to the Banshee pads on the false pretenses that the Master Chief was there, but really the Unggoy wished to use Zuka's piloting knowledge to escape the battle. Even as Zuka realized the betrayal, news that the attack on the base failed made him submit to Yayap and flee.

Now knowing he would be punished should he return to the Covenant, he decided to continue going along with Yayap's plans of escape, taking on the name of the fallen Huki 'Umamee to avoid being recognized. The two would join the forces at the crash site of the Pillar of Autumn, with growing fear within Zuka causing him to be more and more submissive to Yayap. Yet the Master Chief would infiltrate the Pillar of Autumn, re-igniting Zuka's vigor. He would task Yayap to listen to incoming radio traffic and direct him on where to go, truly seeing the Unggoy as the only one he could trust. As the fusion reactors on the ship were detonated, Yayap deduced the Spartan's intended escape route and let Zuka know he could catch him at an elevator leading to the Class Seven service corridor. The final confrontation between Zuka and his target ensued - and Zuka ended up heavily injured when the elevator harshly impacted the bottom of the shaft due to Cortana. With a broken back, Zuka could only look back at up at his foe, then waited there until the destruction of the entire Halo Ring took him out at last.

#halo #halo sangheili #sangheili #halo aliens #halo elite #halo elites #halo fandom #halo tumblr #tumblr bracket #tumblr tournament #tul juran #tul 'juran #zuka zamamee #zuka 'zamamee