#♔ || verse three.

[jeoseungsaja]

🍸 + not a question, but rather please take an equally drunk patrick stumbling over to his dear friend to ask him to hold something for him....it's patrick's hand. that and patrick will also be kissing his dear friend on the cheek once they're holding hands 😊

@ofgentleresolve ♚ from x.

♔ ———–

   Once again he’s sitting on the floor, his back pressed to the couch and his hand still holding the neck of a half-empty bottle of Soju. It almost feels like déjà vu, akin to that day where he was sitting right on this spot, waiting for Patrick to come back from the bathroom. The difference is that this time, his dear friend is not the only one drenched in tipsiness but he, too, is drunk to the point of feeling a bit of dizziness swirling in his head. 

   How did he manage to get like this? Well, the conversation kept flowing and he never noticed the drinks continued to be poured down the glass until part of his speech became a little slurred. Then again, not noticing has become something common when it comes to spending time with his best friend --- Hyuk forgets everything else but the fact that Patrick is there, with him. Why would he focus in the quantity of distilled spirit, when he rather remember the number of times Patrick laughed? 

    So now he’s here, under the roof of a familiar place, away from the table and stuck to the ground. His eyes close for a second, free hand pressed to his forehead as something similar to a grumble escapes his alcohol-stained lips. One eye opens when he starts to hear the sound of something hitting another something, head tilting to find Patrick clumsily walking and a bag with art supplies (that Hyuk bought recently) toppling over. He thinks he hears his dear friend apologizing (though he doesn’t know if the apology is aimed toward him or the bag); palm moving to be waved in dismissal. 

    “Leave it there, I’ll....I’ll pick--pick it up ‘morrow.” 

     Even in this hazy state, he doesn’t want Patrick to make any unnecessary efforts. Besides, what if he tries to pick up the brushes which rolled out of the bag and ends up hitting his head against something? No, no; it’s best like this. 

    “It’s fine. Could...you...come sit down, here, here---” 

     And he pats the space next to him; leaving the bottle of Soju somewhere away from his grasp so both of his hands can lazily land on his lap. Seconds later and he’s hearing more stumbling; torpid sight following Patrick’s silhouette making it to where he is. The signs of his dear friend being inebriated are present: red-flushed cheeks, rolled up sleeves; dopey (but vastly endearing) grin...and words that Hyuk can’t fully understand at first, but that must be because the detective is also under the influence. 

    “What? Y’want me...to hold somethin’?” 

    He repeats in the shape of a question, Patrick’s sluggish nod confirming Hyuk’s ears didn’t fully fail him. The detective’s hand stretches out, palm up and ready to receive anything his best friend wants him to hold. He doesn’t even hesitate, just accepts his request without even asking him what, exactly, wishes for him to temporarily have. 

    A plop is heard and the warmth of his friend is felt, meaning that he’s finally sitting nearby. Soon enough, weight is added to Hyuk’s waiting hand; head turning to see what it is. He blinks and frowns. That’s...Patrick’s hand, and he doesn’t feel an item or anything between their hands now clasped together. 

    Wait.      Wait.     It takes him longer to connect the dots when drunk.      Curse him for being a lightweight.

    “This is what y’wanted me to ‘old?” 

     And he lifts their intertwined hands --- funnily enough, Hyuk doesn’t let go. Not even for a second. A vague nod comes from his friend, along with the sudden planting of a kiss on Hyuk’s cheek. It’s not long enough before pink begins to bloom on his skin, along with a muzzy smile. Does this mean...Patrick is also prone to flirt when drunk? That’s something Hyuk didn’t know about...not like this, at least; a brand new door unlocked due to the stages they’re moving through.

    Because, at this point, it’d be insanely silly to say they’re just friends, right?     They can deny it all they want, but their hearts would challenge them, wouldn’t they? 

    Hyuk’s smile widens. He likes this. Likes that he’s getting to know more about another side of Patrick, likes that these lines and actions are aimed to him; likes that he gets to have this moment with his best friend --- likes him, Patrick, more than words can express. 

    “Okay. I’m taking good care of it.” 

     He tells Patrick, looking at him and that kind face which tends to send odd sensations (they’re called butterflies, but he’s too rusty to recognize that) to his stomach.

  Eyes dance over dear friend’s features; drunken stupor adding a boldness to let his sight freeze on the shape of his best friend’s lips. There they are again, the thoughts, the what if’s, the undisclosed wishes. But instead of letting them win whilst drunk, Hyuk ends up allowing his head to fall on Patrick’s shoulder; temple comfortably pressed there. 

     His thumb, it begins to draw soft circles on Patrick’s hand; eyes dropping to catch the view of their hands holding each other. It does feel like déjà vu. 

    Except, except.      There is no thoughts of ‘I should let go’.      No, in fact, he squeezes his dear friend’s hand.      In fact, he decides to twist their arms a little so Patrick’s fist is facing him.      And when this happens, he brings the professor’s knuckles to his lips and kisses them.      Presses a hearty kiss there, between bones. 

     “I’m taking good care of it.” 

     He repeats, his eyes slowly closing; sleepiness somehow kicking in. It’s this peace, he knows. The peace he feels when Patrick’s near --- he’s the one who calms his raging waters; the sea that constantly threatens to lift high waves. 

    “Good care...of...you. I promise.” 

———– ♔

#ofgentleresolve #♔ || interaction (patrick). #♔ || verse three. #♔ || the puzzle of our friendship is the most comforting (patrick). #EXCUSE ME AS I WEEP OVER THESE TWO OMGIWUEDHKASHIWEUDHAKSHDUWEHD #I FINALLY FOUND THE ENERGY AND TIME TO WRITE IF ONLY FOR A FEW MINUTES AND I COULDN'T HELP BUT JUMP ON THIS IN A HEARTBEAT #I'M NOT EVEN QUEUEING THIS I'M JUST GONNA POST IT PLEASE #FERRE HAVE I TOLD YOU HOW MUCH I ADORE THEM AND EVERYTHING THEY ARE #HAVE I TOLD YOU HOW MUCH I ADORE YOU AND HOW THANKFUL I AM OF ALL THE DYNAMICS WE HAVE TOGETHER #HAVE I TOLD YOU!!!!!! HOW I'M CRYIN' AND SOBBIN' AND IWUEHDKASHDIWUHED #oK SORRY I'M JUST A MESS WIUEHKASDHUWIEDHIWEHD #LOOK AT PATRICK BEING SMOOTH EVEN WHEN BEING DRUNK #I also remember that you told me that Patrick is a little bit...flirtatious? When he's tipsy/drunk? So I mentioned that in my reply #I HOPE IT'S OKAY #AND I HOPE??? EVERYTHING I WROTE IS OKAY BUT IF YOU'D LIKE ME TO CHANGE ANYTHING PLS LET ME KNOW #Look at my son --- is it obvious he's all heart eyes over his best friend --- LMAO WIEUDHASJDHWIUEDH #I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL FERRE AND THAT!! EVERYTHING'S GOING WELL ON YOUR TRIP <3 #PLS TAKE CARE AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY ;W;

[sheyearns]

@geleum​

        “I never said we’re going to play this game fair and square~”

#geleum #{ I hope this is oke!! } #{ I LOVE KAEYA! } #{ but I don't know why I can never write his name correct XD } #{ it takes me two or three times before I get it right } #♔ ▌.IN CHARACTER┆⟨ there’s a void in her soul and it leaves her feeling cold ⟩ #♔ ▌.VERSE┆⟨ this disaster binds us absolute ( before tragedy ) ⟩

[fxulplay]

(   AKAASHI VERSES   )

High School ( Default )

Takes place anywhere between his first and third years of high school. His amputation is still relatively fresh when he enters high school and he's still in the process of re-structuring his life around using a prosthetic, but by his third year, he's more than comfortable in the newly defined shape of his body and is very vocal about disabled activism.

College / Mangaka

Akaashi attends college for four years to obtain his Bachelor's Degree in Fine Arts, all the while refining his skills as an up-and-coming mangaka. His most well-known work heavily features themes from his own life as an amputee and it's been a hit with is community. He definitely keeps to himself a lot more at this point in his life, going weeks on end without contacting anyone, but he's always available when someone reaches out to him.

Half-Faerie

Born to two mothers, a witch and a faerie, Akaashi has always been drawn to magic like an addiction. His faerie mother was a strong elemental with an affinity for storm magic, which he inherited and mastered as easily as breathing. His witch mother warned him against the temptation of magic, a warning he readily heeded, but fate had other plans. He lost his faerie mother in a territorial skirmish with the empire that bordered their small colony and he was ripped away from his witch mother to become a concubine prisoner due to the allure of his faerie lineage. He would later assassinate the emperor who held him captive and went on the run as a wanted criminal.

Greek Mythos

A demigod of Hekate, Akaashi inherits the gift of spellcraft. He frequently practices as a hedgewitch, drawing his energy from nature and focusing his skills on rather mundane things such as tarot reading, sigil making, and minor rituals, though his magic is capable of so much more. He has befriended an owl familiar named Tsukiyo (meaning "moonlit night") with whom he can communicate on a spiritual level not quite the same as telepathy, but deeper.

#♔‘ﾟ‣ ❪ akaashi ⋮ verse 001 ❫ — ❝ i’m holding on but my body’s caving in ❞ #♔‘ﾟ‣ ❪ akaashi ⋮ verse 002 ❫ — ❝ i feel inspired at quarter to three a.m. ❞ #♔‘ﾟ‣ ❪ akaashi ⋮ verse 003 ❫ — ❝ i’m that song you wouldn't sing ; just a broken melody ❞ #♔‘ﾟ‣ ❪ akaashi ⋮ verse 004 ❫ — ❝ you built up a world of magic because your real life is tragic ❞ #no bnha verse bc my head is empty

[dejwrites]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀human, choso kamo

it's been two years since the fall of the jujutsu world, and now choso kamo is finally able to keep the promise that he made with special-grade sorcerer yuki. to no longer live life as a curse but as a human. just his luck; his bubbly next-door neighbor is the one that helped guide him through it.

♔ ˖ ✧ — general warnings: female reader, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, black reader written in mind and their will be descriptors, modern au but also in jjk verse, kinda my own interpretation and theories on how jjk will end, super self-indulgent bc it's my bday, neighbors to lovers (is that a trope), love making yay, mention of other jjk characters, a lot of jumps that are separated by dividers btw, somewhat plot twist at the end // smut warnings: missionary position, hand holding, mentions of hickeys/love bites, usage of spit, big d*ck choso is a warning in itself, implied of oral (m.receiving), handjob // word count: 5.5k, minors dni.

YOUR NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR, CHOSO, WAS EXTREMELY MYSTERIOUS. He only came out of his apartment for a couple of things—going grocery shopping, possibly working, and jogging. You never saw him being friends over. You never saw him bring a lover over. Nothing. Your curious mind always wondered if he was just a loner; maybe he didn’t have any family members alive. It was just him in the small countryside of Japan, and he was just taking his very lonely days day by day. Or was it cruel of you to assume? It wasn’t really your business as a young foreigner just enjoying her youthful years of traveling. 

You’ve been everywhere, searching for a permanent home after deciding to step away from your actual job. Malaysia, Nigeria, Brazil—you have been traveling for a while, and now it seems you may have found your permanent home for good. The small town wasn’t as busy as Tokyo, but it got lively when the people got together to throw small festivals to celebrate things. If you recall, tonight’s festival celebrated the anniversary of the eldest married couple living in the community. Everyone was prompted to bring a dish, baked goods, or gifts. You took it upon yourself to make onigiri because it was one of the easiest dishes you couldn’t butcher without the eldest questioning your cooking skills.

With your best outfit, you glanced at Choso’s door and began your journey down to the main court of the community with your dish. You could hear the laughter and music of the people in the community as they were setting up. You could see the eldest couple, Mr. and Mrs. Aoki, slowly dancing to the music that was blasting through the speakers. Huge smiles on their faces caused their eyes to crinkle and for them to hold on to each other a bit tighter. Despite such a fast-paced song playing, they took their time indulging in each other’s company as if they wouldn’t have each other anymore the next day. 

“You look gorgeous,” You heard one of your friends, Hinata, say. 

“I can’t let you outdress me this time,” You joked while placing what you brought on the table with the other variety of foods. 

“It’s only room for just one hot person in the small community, and it seems like it’ll be me,” He responds. “Now it’s three,” He jokingly sighed in despair.

“Three?” You questioned as you were glancing over the drinks that were offered.

“You, Me, and your neighbor,” Hinata responded. He ran his fingers through his sandy brown colored hair before speaking again, “I’m so jealous. I’m stuck with Old Man Keigo as my neighbor.” 

“He’s not that bad.” You laughed.

“He knocks on my door at three in the morning, asking if I have seen his cat. I didn’t even know we were allowed to have pets.” Hinata sighs.

“Choso literally never leaves his place. I don’t even think he watches tv,” You responded. 

“Still better than Keigo,” Hinata answered. 

“Is it, though? You’re not curious about why he’s so lonely? If he has a family? Friends? If he wants to make friends?” You asked, and Hinata’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Maybe he’s running away from his past life,” Hinata said while searching for a plate. “You should give him some food.”

“Why do I have to do it?” 

“You have an adorable, friendly face. Would you rather Old Man Keigo do it?” Hinata’s head motioned to the older man, who was nodding off to sleep in the corner. The children in the community managed to begin to place items on his lap to see how long he wouldn’t notice.

“The goal is to get him out of his apartment, not scare him in.” You grabbed the plate out of Hinata’s hand. “How am I supposed to know what foods he likes? If he’s allergic to anything?” 

“Hm, just give him one of everything. Now my lovely friend has arrived to help me get through this party. Toodles.” He disappeared in the sea of people, leaving you alone with a plate of food.

You knew he was most likely meeting with his local drug dealer, getting his weekly weed fix to get him through his work week as an administrative assistant at a law firm. 

You did what Hinata suggested, placing one of everything on the plate. You were positive that the amount of food on the plate would have been the same amount that the community's people would give him. Especially considering that some already whispered about him. They weren’t bad whispers or gossip but whispers of kindness. You remember Mrs. Aoki telling you how he helped her carry her groceries in her house. Or the young mother that lived in the home down from your complex told everyone that Choso taught her young son how to ride his bike without training wheels. So, if Choso were to finally leave his home—maybe he would see how kind everyone was and how this community was like a huge family. He had already been helping out around here.

As soon as you were done, you returned to your apartment. Your steps were slow and steady to prevent you from spilling food everywhere. When you reached Choso’s door, you mentally prepared yourself for what to say. Should you do an introduction first before giving him the food? Should you lie and say Mrs. Aoki told you to bring the food? What if he doesn't accept the food? Well, that wouldn’t be so bad. You were his neighbor who only said hi or bye to him, giving him food. He’ll probably think it’s been poisoned or something.

You knocked three times. Two times softly before a loud one that could be heard in the small apartment. You stepped back when you heard the sound of the door unlocking. When he stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist, your heart glanced down in embarrassment. Your brown skin heated, and your heart felt like it was flinging around your chest like a balloon that had just deflated. You never thought a plate of food was so interesting until now.

“Uh, I’m sorry for interrupting your plans. I just thought that I should bring you food from the festival. Mr. and Mrs. Aoki are celebrating their anniversary.” Your words were moving so fast that he even was trying to comprehend what you were saying.

You took a deep breath before speaking again, “You never leave your apartment, so I thought it would be nice to get you some food. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I bought a bit of everything.” Your hands extended the plate outward, and he grabbed the plate out of your hand with the hand that wasn’t grasping on the blue-colored towel that was wrapped around his waist. 

Now that the plate was no longer in your hands, your curious eyes couldn’t help but take a peek at his body. His body was like it was sculpted by the best sculptor in Japan. The many Greek statues of God’s body used him as a reference if possible. 

“Thanks,” Choso says, and his lips curve into a sly smile before he returns back into the comfort of his own home.

With a smile on your face, you turned around to return to the celebration and Choso on your mind. The festival continued, and you even shared a rolled blunt with Hinata to end the night as you gossiped about random things. He asked about Choso and could tell by how your glossed lips curved into a smile that it went well. He didn’t question more of it since the intoxicating high of marijuana finally hit him. However, he did point out that he believed Choso and you would get along quite well. 

Hinata’s prediction wasn’t far off, considering two weeks afterward, Choso tagged along with you to go grocery shopping. You remembered dragging your shopping cart down the stairs loudly as he followed you. 

“What’s up with the cart?” He asked as he walked by your side; he noticed that you didn’t take the usual turn towards the community exit but instead went towards one of the elder's apartments.

“Oh, I usually go grocery shopping for some elders. It helps so I won’t have to carry all the bags from the grocery store.” You gave him a smile. “You have to work smarter, not harder, so you won’t have back problems in your early thirties.” You joked.

Choso’s lips formed a perfect shape ‘o’ as he realized how smart the idea was. The closest grocery store is about a fifteen-minute walk from here; it would make sense to have something that would be easier for you to carry your bags. His dark eyes followed you as you went door to door, asking some of the older people if they needed anything from the grocery store. You did with such a bright smile that Choso found his cheeks growing hot as he watched you respectfully bow before wishing farewells to your neighbors. 

Kindness, you had so much of it and weren’t afraid to give it out. Perhaps that’s why Choso admired you so much. You were like a ray of sunshine; he questioned where you were during the Shibuya, Culling Game, and other events that shook the sorcerer world. How could someone like you be so kind and bubbly when such events happen? He wondered if you had family members that died during the Shibuya incident. 

“I have three people's grocery lists and money. You know you don’t have to tag along if you don’t want to.” You said as you dragged the cart behind you. 

“I have nothing else to do, and I have grown to enjoy your company compared to your friend,” Choso admits as he walks by your side. “He’s a hyper one.” 

“Oh, Hinata? Yeah, you have to catch him when he’s off work. Other times he’s either high on weed or caffeine.” You chuckled. “I appreciate the company, then. It isn’t a lot of people around our age that live here.”

“I noticed,” Choso responds. He shoved his hands in his leather jacket pockets. “I like it like that compared to the city.”

“You used to live in the city?” You asked as you stopped at the crosswalk. 

“Well, I work in Roppongi as security at some clubs. That helps pay the bills and such. I did live there originally, but it was too busy there. As if Roppongi never sleeps or something. So, I moved.” Choso explained while you two crossed the street.

You noticed that your arms kept bumping into each other with each step you took next to each other. It was like two magnets that kept gravitating toward each other despite being far apart. 

“You as a security guard? You don’t give me security guard vibes,” You chuckled.

“Really? My boss says otherwise,” He runs his fingers through his hair. “He said I look intimidating.” 

“Maybe it’s the mark across your face.” You motioned to your own face. “What is that anyway? A tattoo? Birthmark?” 

You watched as Choso rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. His cheeks staining the color of red before speaking, “Birthmark.” He says before his eyes averted downward in embarrassment. 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” You nudge his side. “It’s cute.” She adds before skipping ahead to enter the grocery store. 

Choso followed behind you with heated cheeks as you held the first list. You were putting stuff in the cart you brought along. “Have you always lived there? Seem like everyone knows you.”

“Only for about four months now. I traveled a couple of places before settling here.” You answered. “I must say that Hinata did make it much easier. I was like you at first. All bottled up in my apartment, and then Hinata became my friend. The rest is history; Hinata even decided to set me up with one of his friends.” 

“And how is that going?” Choso asked. 

“He canceled the first two dates, and we’re supposed to hang out another day,” Your shoulders shrug as you look at Choso, who couldn’t quite comprehend how nonchalant you were taking the situation.

“What about you? Anyone special in your life? Met someone nice during your security gigs?” You asked while grabbing another thing off the shelf. 

Choso took the other list out your hand and started to search if any item on the list was in the aisle you two currently were in. You couldn’t tell if he started helping to avoid your question or if he was genuinely being kind. He reached behind where you were standing to grab something behind you. 

“I don’t really do relationships. Yeah, I have had flings here and there.” Choso explained. “So, there’s no one from my security gigs.” He chuckles. 

Your eyebrows raised in curiosity at his question, but you didn’t want to pry anymore into his business. You took the list from his hand and motioned for him to pull the cart. With a sly grin, Choso followed behind you. The dark-haired male was growing comfortable with you, and he couldn’t explain to himself the warm feeling he felt when he was around you. 

A DRUNKEN HICCUP ESCAPED your lips as you let your head fall into the palm of your hand. Your mind felt like it was spinning, and your body felt like it was a bowl of Jell-O. You brought the glass to your taking another sip of the intoxicating alcohol that you knew you had too much of. Finishing the last bit in the glass before letting your face collide with the table you sat at. You knew it was irresponsible to drink alone, especially considering you had to travel about five blocks to your house. But you didn’t think you would get stood up by Hinata’s friend. They were supposed to be here to walk you home and ensure that you got home safely. But they didn’t bother again.

You sat up, running your manicured fingers through your coils, before you saw a familiar figure walking by the bar that you were in. It seemed like he felt your drunken glare since his eyes met with yours when he turned around. Choso. You hadn’t seen him since he told you about his brother when you guys walked together to the grocery store. You watched as he raced to the door to approach you, and you couldn’t hide the foolish grin on your face. 

“Choso! Come, sit down and have a drink with me!” You shrieked, holding up the empty bottle of sake. 

“You’ve reached your limit, Y/N. It’s time to go home.” He says.

“But he hasn’t shown up yet. Hinata’s friend didn’t come.” 

“Just stay here while I pay your bill, okay? Don’t move!” His finger points at you, and you can only smile and give him a thumbs up.

You plopped back into your seat, watching as he paid for the drinks you had within the night. He returned and helped you up, but you stumbled back, causing him to grab a hold of your wrist to catch you. He noticed the short skirt you wore tonight and wanted to question if you were cold, but right now, he had to get you home. A long sigh tumbled from the dark-haired male before he unzipped his hoodie. He tied the hoodie around your waist and turned around. “Hop on.” He says, motioning to his back. 

“Choso, you’re going to carry me all the way home. You’re such a gentleman.” You happily sigh as you climb onto his back. 

He carried you in silence until you were so curious about why he was out so late. “Why were you out so late? It can be dangerous out here when the sun goes down, you know?” Each word that left your mouth was interrupted by a hiccup. 

“Says the drunk one; someone could have taken advantage of you if I didn’t see you.” Choso lectured. “You’re so irresponsible, you know?”

Your lips formed a pout as you wiggled your legs with each step Choso took. “I just thought he would show up. I’m sorry for my ir-responsible-ness.” 

Choso chuckles at your words, considering that you completely butchered the last part of your sentence. “It’s okay. But to answer your question, I just went to the cemetery to visit my brother. It’s much more peaceful for me when I go at night.” 

“Well, did you enjoy your visit?” You asked. 

“I did. I’m sure he’s tired of me bothering him, though.” He responded.

“Well, I wish I would have been able to meet him. If he’s as cool as his older brother, I’m sure I would have liked him and his company.” 

“He would have liked you also. Especially considering you being so nice to me. Seeing the good in every fuckin’ body. Including that guy that stood you up.” 

You grew silent. Choso’s words suddenly sober you up. You blink several times before speaking, “He promised he would come.” 

You found yourself repeating that phrase again and again. 

“I heard you the first time you said it,” Choso answered as he began to walk up the steps connected to the complex's top level. “Just wish you would see that the guy clearly isn’t interested in you.” 

“And how would you know that? You told me weeks ago that you don’t do relationships or haven’t even been on a date. Just hookups,” You backfired. 

“I don’t need to be a relationship expert to see that you deserve better than to get stood up in some busted bar that hardly anyone knows about as if the guy is ashamed and is afraid to be with a foreigner. Now, can I have your keys to open your door?” 

Silence overcame the two of you again. Why were you two so comfortable enjoying each other’s silence? Why was his silence so comforting? Why did it calm you down? Why did his words hit you so hard like that? 

“I think I left my purse at the bar.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’ll just go wake the landlord up; I’m sure he has a spare key. Then I’ll just go get my purse tomorrow. I'm friends with the owner, so I’m sure she’ll put it up for me.” 

Choso didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked next door to his apartment, unlocking the door. “No need to be a nuisance to the landlord so late at night. You can crash here until the morning, and I’ll get your purse.” 

“You’re so kind. One day I will pay you back plus some.” 

Choso opened his apartment, and you were in awe at how he decorated his small space. Maybe, your mind was mentally hyping it up due to the alcohol in your system. But you felt at peace in here; it could have been because it smelt like Choso. A scent that you grew familiarized with the more you spent time with him. You noticed how clean his place was. He had a couple of plants in the corner that were clearly taken care of. He had a record player in the other corner with a stack of vinyl records. Your eyes couldn’t help but remember the small details in his apartment. So caught up in your surroundings you don’t even notice Choso kneeling down to remove your heels after your feet finally hit the ground. 

“I could have done that myself.” You said.

“Mhm, sure.” He sarcastically responds before searching his closet for something you can change in. He gave you a shirt and some shorts. “The bathroom is all yours.” 

You stumbled into the bathroom to change into the clothes. The shorts and shirts are clearly too big for you. Your arms wrapped around your waist as you glanced at yourself in the small mirror above the sink. You looked a mess, and you couldn’t believe that Choso saw you in this manner. Felt like he was viewing you at your lowest all because you got stood up by some guy. 

Choso seemed to be getting ready to shower when you were done in the bathroom. You swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in your throat before walking further into the room, “I can sleep on the floor. I am the intruder here.” 

“Nonsense, I don’t mind sharing the bed. Unless you’re like-“ 

“No, it’s not that. It’s just you’ve done so much for me tonight. Carried me home, paid my bill at the bar, now this.” 

“It’s okay. It’s kinda on my list to be kind to someone similar to how my brother would be.” Choso answered truthfully. 

Your eyebrows raised at his comment, but you didn’t argue as you climbed into the bed and got comfortable. You rolled over on your side and tugged the blankets further on your frame to attempt to sleep. Choso went on to take a shower, and minutes later, he joined you in the bed. The bed sank downward when he joined you, and you hated to admit that you wanted to move closer foolishly. You bet he was a wonderful cuddler; he had the arms for it. Before you could utter goodnight to Choso, the alcohol you consumed caused your body to finally relax on the fluffiness of the bed. Your eyes fluttered, attempting to fight your sleep until you finally fell into a deep slumber. 

When morning came upon you, you woke up and could feel an arm around your waist and warmth upon the back of your neck. If you concentrated hard enough, you could even feel Choso’s face upon the top of your coils. It took you by a shock that you didn’t fall asleep twisting your hair and throwing on a scarf, but then you remembered the events of last night. You remembered the piggyback ride. You remembered the talk about you being too kind and always seeing the good in everyone. You remembered forgetting your purse. You figure you were such a nuisance, so you had to make your grand mistake.

You attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, but the grip got a bit tighter. A subtle groan escaped from Choso before you wiggled your way to turn around to face him. Your lips gasp apart to stare at the sight in front of you. His black hair sprawled across his face creating the most reckless bed hair. You took in the way he let out a soft snore here and there. How long his eyelashes were. The birthmark that decorated his pale skin started from one cheek to across the bridge of his nose and to the other cheek. Your cheeks heated, seeing his eyes flutter open and catch you staring. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.” You stuttered your words out in embarrassment before turning around to break eye contact. You’ve given up wiggling away at how close the two of you were, but he didn’t loosen up the grip either. Actually, he pulled you closer. As if he didn’t want to let you go. 

“Choso?” You asked as you could feel the tip of his nose on the back of your neck. 

Your skin was littered with goosebumps, and your body's hair stood up. 

“Hm.” He groggily answered. 

“I may have been drunk, but I do recall you mentioning a list. You said one of the things on the list was to be kind to a person the same way you would think your brother would. Is that what you’re doing with me?” 

“Yes.” 

Now you were back, turning around to meet his sleepy alluring gaze. “And you think your brother would do this? As in, cuddle his neighbor?” 

“He’ll carry you on his back if you were too intoxicated, but I don’t know if he’ll do this. I can stop if you want,” His arm detaches itself from your body, and your body suddenly feels cold without it. 

You grabbed it and put it back on your waist. “No, I’m okay with it. It’s just I’m curious to know why me. Why be kind to me?” 

“Because you’re kind to me. Always been kind to me.” He answers truthfully. His fingers brushed one of your coils out of the way, and those goosebumps returned again. 

“I know, but no amount of kindness equals cuddling and shit.” You said. “I’m not complaining because this is very comforting, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to be kind to me-“ 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

“What? Choso, that’s such a-“ 

“I know, and I’m not expecting a response to that just yet. I know it’s quite hard to process especially considering that you’re most likely hungover at the moment. But I am willing to wait whenever you’re ready.” His eyes shifted closed as if attempting to fall back asleep.

“And what if I have a response to that right now?” You asked.

“Then, spit it out already.” 

When those words left his mouth, you rolled a bit closer to place a kiss on Choso’s lips. It started off innocent at first. Quick, subtle pecks before the kiss deepened. Before he pulled you closer, by the way, to taste more of you eagerly. Just as his strong arms brought you closer, you could feel his cock poking at your plush brown thighs—rubbing against you for some form of friction that caused Choso to let out a breathy sigh in between breaks of the kiss. Your hand climbed in between the two of you to rub at his hardened cock through the gray fabric of his shorts. 

“Shit,” Choso’s head fell back on the pillow after biting at your full plump bottom lip. 

The heated makeout session lasted until the two of you were breathless, and your mouth was wrapped around his cock until he began to feel your pussy around him. You tore each other's clothes off until they decorated the wooden floors. The taste of Choso stained your tongue, and you felt like you were intoxicated. Not due to the alcohol you consumed the previous night but to Choso’s actions. He kissed your neck and collarbone with his body on top of yours. The kisses on your golden skin made you whimper out for more, and for you to grow wet. His teeth bite down, and the gasp that you let out causes all the blood to rush to his cock. Choso’s fingertips tip toed in between your bodies to cling onto the fabric that was in between his callous fingers from indulging in toying with your clit. 

His plush lips kissed your lips, and in between the heated kiss that was causing Choso, he could only say. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

When you made eye contact with Choso, you felt so soft inside. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you stared up at Choso. You lean up to kiss his lips, but he pulls back. “Tell me what you want,” He’s dipping down to kiss upon the bite mark he left on your flesh. “Use your words.” 

“I want you.” 

Those were the words Choso wanted to hear. In just a quick and eager motion, he’s pulling your panties down. Like a hormonal teenager, he’s letting his hardened, clothed cock rub against your wet folds teasingly. Your juices staining the cotton fabric of his grey-colored Calvin Klein briefs. You wouldn’t believe labeling him as a tease, but he drove you insane. How can he make you confess that you wanted him and edge you on until you can feel your own essence staining the inside of your thighs? 

He kisses you lightly, but it feels heavy and rough because it takes your breath away. His right hand tugged down his boxers fully, and you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat increase at the weight of his cock on your abdomen. He hawks some spit in his hand to coat his cock in it, wanting to make this experience pleasurable and comfortable for you. With his fingers intertwined with yours, he’s sliding inside you. Choso felt how tightly you gripped at his hards, with your eyes squinted shut, getting used to his large size. 

“I’m sorry.” He’s repeatedly saying as he’s peppering your face with subtle kisses. His cock rested inside you until you finally opened your eyes. 

The once intense feeling of his cock stretching you out was replaced with the satisfying feeling of wanting more. Choso didn’t need to hear your voice to begin moving. His hips rotate forward into the cushion of your spread thighs. It was quite a sight to see how your pussy was swallowing his cock with each thrust forward or roll of Choso’s hips. However, the half-curse-half-human couldn’t think straight with how your moans echoed in his ear. They sounded so sweet, so wonderful. One of the most beautiful things he has heard after that band Tame Impala. His callous hands, you were sure had many sins imprinted on them, push your thighs apart just to tug his cock out of you.

“You’re going to make me come, fuck.” He said breathlessly. 

Even with his comment, he still pushed himself fully inside of you again. Surrendering in wanting you to feel full once more. The sound of his headboard smacked against the wall, and Choso was so grateful that you were his neighbor because any other person would have been knocking on his door for him to keep it down. 

You never really thought that this would happen. That you and he would cross such a line to express how you felt for each other. But you weren’t complaining; you enjoyed the way Choso’s hand grasped at every part of your body. You enjoyed the way his face was red as ever due to a mixture of the feeling of his cock being balls deep inside of you and exhaustion. Or how he let his fingers rub at your clit to send the most dangerous electric shock down your spine. 

“I’m about to come.” Your words tumbled out like a broken record. 

Before capturing your lips onto his—Choso says, “That’s what I want.” 

And with those words cursing your lips, you felt like you were on cloud nine. The enthusiastic feeling felt like you were tugging a rubberband back and letting it snap back into its rightful shape. The lower half of your body felt like it went through a slight shock as Choso fucked you through your orgasm. In your mind, you were screaming for him to just come inside you. But you knew that could have just been the bliss of the moment. As if he read your mind, he’s pulling just as his face scrunched up in pleasure. His cock twitches in anticipation as thick ropes of cum begin oozing out, decorating your tummy. The only thing you could do was admire the sight of Choso coming down from the fleeting feeling of busting a nut. 

Just like that, your relationship with Choso blossomed when his body collapsed next to yours, and the only thing that you could hear was your loud thoughts about a mere promise you made two years ago. But you knew that the only thing that mattered right now was the fact that Choso was happy. 

The autumn leaves crunched under your shoes as you walked around the cemetery. You grew accustomed to visiting here once every month since you managed to start the progress of that promise you made to him. When you finally found the tombstone you were looking for, you could tell that someone had stopped by possibly a day before you. Bright red tulips were next to his picture to replace the ones you put out a week ago. Placing the flowers down before kneeling to pay your respect, you smiled brightly before speaking. Quite odd to be talking to a tombstone, but you were sure he could hear you somewhere. 

You placed the flowers on the grave as you kneeled to show your respect. You smiled brightly before speaking to the tombstone that sat in front of you. It was wonderful to see that the gifts and flowers that were around still looked fresh. You assumed someone else most likely was here before you. 

“Hey, Itadori, it’s me. Y/N. I just wanted to update you on the promise I made to you.” You let out a sigh, realizing that you had lied to Choso.

You fed him some story about moving here to Japan after exploring the world, despite you technically already being familiarized with Japan. You’ve witnessed it all before deciding to leave the sorcerer world behind for good. Granted, it sat heavy in your heart, and you felt like a coward not helping in the gruesome war of taking down Kenjaku and Sukuna. But you had to put yourself first, which you wanted many of your friends to do. 

“Choso is doing well, just like you said he would. He’s okay, and he’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about him, Itadori. He’s adjusted to the human world quite well. He no longer feels like a curse but a human. ” 

​━━ ♡ ​TAGS // @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @violxtbxbyy @shirohyorin @kama-star @maxi8898 @calandra24 @tashniko @certifiedlovergir1 @alekstraszas @soumies @thismf7 @shyartnerd564 @longloes @succubusonthedoorstep @stunnababyyabyyy @comatosebunny09 @si00p

#choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo smut #anime x reader #anime smut #female reader #black reader #jjk x black reader #anime x black reader #x black reader #black fem reader

[a-koschyei]

VER. THE RED SORCERER WILL WAKE THE SLEEPER & SILENCE THE BELLS

♔. synopsis : canon adjacent, mixing in elements of deathless and taking this verse as koschei's alt. tsar of life origin story. rewriting some details & emphasizing the undercurrent of the plot to reveal koschei faked his death in book 2 and was the mastermind behind the events of the series. he usurps medved, and becomes the new summer-demon towards the end of book 3. most plots can take place after the series, when he's on the brink of waging a war to take over medieval rus' and the other chyerti realms, particularly morozko's.

in the 11th cent. during the reign of vladimir the great, yuri, a polovtsian khan who plundered and traversed the entirety of the great steppes with his nomadic warriors, sacked a village near serbia and took a country girl as his wife. the girl's name was danika, and she belonged to a balkan line of witches & sorcerers who worshipped the giver, dazbog (the chyert of summer and tsar of life).

some time later, after confirming she had the ability to see the unseen chyerti, dazbog gave her his jewel, the alatyr stone. he promised to protect her so long as she wore it and did not let him fade from memory. when the time came, she was to pass it down to the youngest of her three sons. she only had two at the time.

that year, yuri led an unsuccessful attack against prince mstislav, son of vladamir. yuri was killed in combat, but danika and her sons were spared, though taken as slaves, under the condition that they assimilate and convert to christianity. danika converted, for the sake of her children and the unborn one she carried, but hid dazbog's jewel, wove him into her prayers and never forgot about the chyerti.

♔. the polovtsy / polovytsians. turkic nomadic warriors (aka the cumans). the name comes from the old slavic word for "blonde" "pale yellow" due to the color of their hair and/or their cream colored akhal-teke horses, known for their speed and golden metallic sheen. by the events of the book (14th cent.) the polovtsy fled from the mongol invasion of rus' to different countries, but many also joined the golden horde and became generally referred to as tartars, along w other turkic groups. (koschei's fairytale is based on a famous polovtsian, khan konchek) ♔. dazbog / medved. a slavic solar deity who resided in buyan but also the underworld. in the summer, he was a man in his prime, accompanied by wolves. in winter, he was a one-eyed old man who wore a bear skin during his hibernation in death's realm. canon doesn't say this explicitly, but medved is lame daba, aka dazbog after his demonization, which christianization (and koschei) caused. very few know him by his old name & nature. ♔. alatyr stone. in this verse, it's a red-gold jewel connected to dazbog's power and a gateway to buyan. it's his equivalent to the sapphire morozko passed to vasya. in book 2, it's the stone koschei uses as a decoy death.

i. three roads, three sons: koschei was born and raised in tmutarakan as a slave, serving first as a groom, then a farmhand, and when he came of age, he and his brothers were dragged into a war between princes for vladamir's throne. koschei's mother gave him dazbog's jewel hoping it would protect him, and it did, but during the winter march, his brothers were taken by the frost. in the spring when the war was in full bloom, koschei's contact with dazbog became more direct and frequent. he often carried him away from the brink of death in the battlefield in the spirit of a wolf to buyan, where he'd heal him, feed him, and teach him the art of war and magic.

eventually, dazbog aided koschei in deserting the war. during this time, he traveled the principalities around kiev freely, but the past, the threat of death and imprisonment, and the growing disdain for witches and sorcerers chased him out of every place he hoped to settle. he went to baba yaga's midnight country where he formed a romance with tamara and earned the favor of the golden mare and firebird, zornitsa, the fastest horse of yaga's flock. with her, koschei was able to outrun any threat or foe, and was carried to farther lands, away from kiev and the church bells.

♔. the golden mare / firebird : diverting from the book, koschei's mare is named zornitsa, the morning star, and she's the same in every verse. koschei wins her favor on his own, as he was a worthy rider at the start. later, he loses favor and that's when tamara & the golden bridle ( without spikes !! ) come into play.

ii. the wolf, the firebird, & the horse with a golden mane: he ended up in the newly founded village of moscow when it was still pagan, and was set on making his home there. ivan yurovich was the name he used to avoid recognition (given his growing reputation in kiev), and upon his arrival the lord offered him riches, land, and a seat at his table if he sold him his golden mare. koschei accepted, but used sorcery to transmute a wolf into the likeness of zornitsa, then asked her to hide in the wood in her firebird form.

the lord's sister, yelena tomislavna, had the gift of sight too. she caught on to the ruse, but kept koschei's secret. in time the two fell deeply for one another, but koschei was not a preferred match. he contrived a plan to have the lord spot the firebird during a hunt, and as he suspected, the lord promised yelena's hand to anyone who'd manage to catch it for him. koschei rose to the occassion, again presenting a wolf who simply forgot it was not a firebird, and the wedding was set.

♔. ivan yurovich : his birthname in this verse (see this post to dive into the rabbit hole). after his brothers' deaths, their nickname for him (due to his lankiness) continued to be his preferred name. he goes by koschei yurovich through his pre-immortal travels, then later koschei bessmertny. kasyan lutovich is the current alias. after his identity reveal he goes back to being referred to as koschei bessmertny. it's a name he's proud of, so if you ever call him ivan, it's on sight !!

iii. the midwinter feast : during their engagement celebration, morozko was an honorary guest, as it was his midwinter holiday too. he took great interest in yelena and had her tend to him the entire night, much to koschei's agitation and moscow's speculation. when the frost demon left, a panicked idea took root among the folk that yelena could not marry. she would need to be morozko's tribute for maslenitsa, the sunfeast, or else they'd face a late summer and risk another deadly famine. to escape the hysteria, koschei and yelena fled to a secret place tucked between realms in the midday road which koschei called yaichka for it's golden wheat fields that looked like a sea of yolk.

it was in that field, while koschei was stealing food from buyan, that the noon wraith, sent by dazbog, lured a lounging yelena into a trance and danced her into midnight and then back into moscow. when koschei found out, he and zornitsa raced through the midday road from buyan to moscow, but a devotee of dazbog could only find the middays of spring and summer. what felt like hours of riding were actually weeks. he arrived on winter's last sunset, through the red flash of the last day of the sunfeast, but the people of moscow had already strangled yelena in the snow and tossed her body into the sacrificial fire.

koschei begged morozko and dazbog to undo what the people had done, using the water of life and the water of death, but the twins refused to intervene with fate. herein laid the trappings of a secret war, where koschei set his heart towards revenge against the people of rus' and the twins who'd wronged him. for the moment, they were none the wiser. dazbog took koschei into buyan and continued to mentor him until he eventually used the knowledge to formulate a spell that would have him take dazbog's power and remove himself from death's reach so that he could confidently enact his revenge on the frost demon and people of rus'.

♔. the chains of the winter king : this feast was the memory vasya found morozko imprisoned in, and the man she saw was koschei ("ivan"). as tamara's sister later explains, kasyan's face is not koschei's real face which is why she did not immediately recognize him. so this is the first glimpse we get of him in the series. i'm establishing that koschei, working through medved, was responsible for the creation of this prison memory, but it was just that. a magical simulation on loop. no historical events could be changed by meddling.

iv. the golden bridle: zornitsa urged koschei against his plan, but he needed her speed to catch dazbog's chariot in his journey towards death's country, when he was most vulernable. he created a golden bridle that would bind zornitsa's will to his own. then he seduced tamara once more, and tricked her into placing the bridle on zornitsa. with the bridle on, koschei seized his opportunity and struck his fatal spell on dazbog just before he could reach morozko's country. but the spell was complex and too slippery for a human mind. they both tumbled into rus', and when koschei finally came to, he found himself immortal and alone, but not entirely successful.

v. lame daba : killing a dual natured god in one blow was impossible. in the fall, dazbog split in two: his primary form (the summer wolf) was killed and absorbed by koschei; but the winter bearskin of his hibernating form still remained, and koschei's spell had inadvertently reanimated the husk in the effort to make himself deathless. koschei's life force was removed from his body, but was stored in medved, the eater, whose mind and memory became a mangled and rotted version of dazbog's, tainted by koschei's essence and vision of him. medved then represented a mockery of life fueled by it's hardships and became the tsar of the upyr, the insatiable undead.

medved had no true recollection of his previous life and neither did anyone else. koschei then realized that to kill and usurp a god meant to erase them from memory, and when medved began to wreak havoc on rus', morozko imprisoned his brother with a murky recollection of the time before they were at odds. likewise, the world had an obscured recollection of koschei and who he was before -- but the witch women of midnight and the crossroad demons who had witnessed what he'd done remembered. they did not have the means to intervene, but yaga did cast out her daughter tamara, and shut all the roads of the chyerti realms to her and koschei so they could never come back.

vi. the tower of bones. now unable to reach buyan and the sleeping bear to retrieve his death and finish what he started, koschei set up camp in a place he called, bashnya kostei, the tower of bones. he offered tamara a place at his side, but she refused and left him. thus began the campaigns against the people of kievan rus' that inspired the tales of koschei the deathless. eventually, he took to keeping a lower profile, used sorcery and glamors to hide his rotting appearance, recruited the surrounding chyerti to do his bidding, and conjured scrying spells to keep morozko blind to his machinations and whereabouts.

vii. the bear & the nightingale. in dreams, koschei could sense any perturbances with medved given their inconvenient entanglement. after years of nothing, he saw a young girl with familiar green eyes and the gift of sight approach the bear at his clearing. if koschei could not get to buyan, he figured the sacrifice of a witch could summon medved into rus'. so he riled the bear awake in secret and planted the idea in his subconscious. the bear was successful, through the death of a different witch, but when he was foiled and bound again by the sacrifice of a father. koschei moved on to the back up plan: a counterspell to yaga's banishment using the alatyr stone, the red flash of the last winter sunset on maslenitsa, and the power charge of a witch from her bloodline.

book 2 & book 3. from here, we set up the events of book 2. koschei's core motive is a power grab, particularly for buyan and the chyerti. not knowing where vasya ran off to, he took on the alias of kasyan lutovich to infiltrate moscow and investigate vasya's remaining family there, hoping to find another witch/sorcerer with the sight who could charge and destroy the stone, thus "killing him" but really his body disintegrated and reappeared in the water of life in buyan, where he began to gather his own chyerti forces and used medved as a puppet & distraction in book 3 to buy himself time.

taking over moscow & destroying the bells was supposed to be an added treat that went a little haywire (understatement), but was not the primary goal. this was getting medved bound again at the right time while koschei was in buyan, getting his death back, hiding it somewhere else unknown, and merging with what remained of dazbog's power so he could become the new tsar of life. when vasya returns to the clearing seeking medved's aid, she finds his bearskin limp and koschei standing in his place. further notes & divergences can be discussed and/or will be posted as hcs.

#♔ . ⧽ v. winternight * 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔯 & 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔰 #this is long but really just ask that you read the indented footnotes/divergences #everything else is for reference & context and went in a little deeper bc tbh this is going to be my secondary verse of choice #and the backbone of all his other non-deathless verses #anyways let's give the series a lil extension w a new villain who loves the drama of faking deaths teehee #major spoilers ahead if you haven't read the books!

[godsvvept]

º   .   ♔   ⸻   the  capital  of  king’s  landing  welcomes  GWYNESSE  of  HOUSE ( s )  LANNISTER  (  by  marriage  ) &  GOODBROTHER (  by  birth ),  the  LADY  of  LANNISPORT.  the  THIRTY  year  old  CISWOMAN  is  reputed  to  be  ENTERPRISING  and  MELLIFLUOUS,  but  with  the  eyes  of  court  watching  their  every  move,  they  might  turn  out  to  be  IMPERIOUS  and  DESENSITIZED.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  THE  TIDE  VICIOUSLY  BREAKING  AGAINST  THE  SAND  AND  SPLASHING  AGAINST  THE  WALL,  A  NEVER  ENDING,  ALL  TOO  FAMILIAR  CALLING  ;    “WHAT  IF  I  TOLD  YOU  I’M  SPLIT  IN  HALF?  WHAT  IF  I  TOLD  YOU:  I’M  THE  KNIFE?”  ;  PENELOPE,  THE  QUEEN  OF  ITHACA,  PATIENTLY  TENDING  TO  THE  WEAVING  OF  A  SHROUD  AND  OF  A  FUTURE  OF  HER  OWN  DESIGN.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSE  LANNISTER  OF  LANNISPORT  /  HERSELF,  where  they  conspire  to  GET  RID  OF  THE  SQUABBLES  ON  HER  SHIPYARD  AND  INSTAL  HER  HUSBAND  AS  RULING  LORD.  but  in  the  end  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.

full  name  :  gwynnesse  lannister,  née  goodbrother. alias  /  nickname  :  gwyn,  ness,  senne, the  gilded  siren. age  :  thirty. gender  and  pronouns  :  ciswoman  and  she / her. orientation  :  demisexual  demiromantic. occupation : lady  consort  of  lannisport  ( as  wife  of  the  lord  heir ),  secretly  acting  regent  of  lannisport. faceclaim :  naomi  battrick.

date  of  birth  :  first  month  of  the  year  of  270. parents  :  gorold  goodbrother  &  eydis  farwynd. siblings  :  eleven  sisters  (  two  older,  nine  younger ) and  three  brothers ( all  older ). significant  other :  tba  lannister,  lord  heir  of  lannisport. offspring  :  at  least  five  children.  she  does  not  always  remember  their  names. religious affiliation : the  faith  of  the  seven ( public;  converted  by  marriage ),  the  drowned  god ( by  birth ). 

inspirations : eleanor  guthrie ( black  sails ), jocelyn  castell (  jamestown ), penelope  of  ithaca ( odyssey ), cersei  lannister ( asoiaf ), ariel ( the  little  mermaid ), georgia ( ginny  &  georgia ), isabella  the  she  wolf  of  france (  history + knightfall ), livia  drusilla ( domina ), emma  of  normandy ( history + vikings  valhalla ), nurbanu  sultan (  magnificent  century +  history ), caroline  collingwood  and  marcia  roy ( succession ).

                    application  ; full  statistics ; tdlr  and  connections  below  the  cut.

trigger  warning  for : toxicity ( both  for  her  #girlboss  gaslight  gatekeep  ways  and  for  her  actually  poisoning  her  father  in  law  oop. )

as  the  third  born  daughter,  it  seems  all  that  she  could  be  has  already  been  taken  by  either  gael  (  begrudgingly,  the  childrearing  )  or  gyda  (  their  mother’s  old  chainmaille  )  —  straining  for  individuality  or  selfishness  (  one  and  the  same,  at  times,  but  who  cares  ),  young  gwyn  would  attempt  to  reach  out  for  father  instead,  an  endeavor  that  while  others  (  most  of  the  other  goodbrother  girls  )  would  fail,  she  would  succeed.  before  the  rebellion  made  him  harder,  and  even  afterwards,  she  took  prize  in  being  one  of  the  few  to  pry  a  smile  out  of  him,  and,  most  of  all,  she  enjoyed  accompanying  him  to  the  family  mines,  learning  of  the  ores  and  the  business  and  economy,  while  taking  home  whatever  shiny  little  rock  she  could.

although  she  trained  with  the  sword,  as  well  as  the  needle  (  her  mother  had,  after  all,  been  a  notorious  shieldmaiden  and  now  she  was  a  loyal  wife  who  had  given  her  lord  fifteen  children  ),  gwynesse  preferred  the  former,  if  only  because  being  a  lady  paired  up  well  with  what  she  was  truly  good  at  :  cunning.

still,  once  she  was  sixteen,  she  asked  to  take  a  part  of  a  crew  that  would  travel  to  essos.  although  she  cared  nothing  for  physical  exertion  activities,  she  greatly  enjoyed  the  trip  —  it  made  her  realize  that  the  iron  islands  were  nothing  compared  to  the  world  and,  perhaps,  she  would  rather  be  elsewhere.  somewhere  better,  greater.

the  realization  of  her  wish  was  a  double  edged  sword:  while  she  did  manage  to  go  somewhere  greater,  she  almost  died  (  or  actually  died,  and  was  brought  back  to  life  by  the  drowned  god  who  wished  to  set  her  to  greatness,  in  her  own  mind  )  when  the  ship  wrecked,  and  she  washed  around  westerland  waters.  she  was  rescued  by  the  heir  to  lannisport,  who  took  a  liking  to  her  and  took  her  to  his  home  to  be  cared  for.  there,  fearing  she  would  be  killed  or  worse  for  being  an  ironborn,  she  pretended  to  be  amnesiac  and  was  allowed  to  remain  at  the  castle  out  of  courtesy.  

during  that  time,  she  effectively  managed  to  make  the  lord  heir  fall  for  her  (  and  if  she  fell  for  him  too,  it  was,  then,  a  sweet  consequence  ).  once  she  fell  with  child,  she  arranged  so  her  brothers  would  come  retrieve  her  —  the  shot  gun  of  sorts  wedding  was  a  good  enough  deal,  for  she  did  bring  a  big  dowry,  even  if  her  father  -  in  -  law  (  and  possibly  her  husband,  though  he  was  easier  to  bend  )  was  not  very  pleased  with  having  an  ironborn  for  a  daughter.

within  two  years  after  that,  her  husband  was  called  to  lead  a  part  of  the  lannister  fleet,  and  gwynesse  remained  at  lannisport,  bregundigly  bearing  babies  and  facing  scrutiny  from  the  westerlanders  who  thought  of  her  as  too  foreign  to  be  trusted  —  a  sentiment  her  father  -  in  -  law  shared,  refusing  to  allow  her  in  and  aid  him  with  anything  of  importance,  much  to  her  distaste.  at  some  point,  she  begins  poisoning  him  with  lead  (  something  that  has  no  taste,  no  smell  and  that  slowly  can  drive  one  to  madness  and  several  other  unpleasant  physical  ailments  ),  which  leads  him  to  become  more  dependent  on  her  and,  of  course,  she  takes  advantage  of  that  to  help  him  rule  lannisport.

currently,  it’s  been  over  ten  years  since  the  poisoning  started,  and  if  anyone  points  at  her,  gwynesse  is  offended  and  can  easily  begin  tearing  up  if  necessary,  even  offering  to  take  on  his  food  and  drink  if  they  are  so  suspicious.  her  husband  defends  her,  likely  unbeknownst,  something  she  is  glad  for.  gwynesse  has  no  qualms  in  engaging  in  falsity,  and  even  takes  enjoyment  of  that,  of  this  power.

her  father  -  in  -  law  is  greatly  debilitated,  of  course,  and  she  is,  for  all  purposes,  mistress  and  ruler  of  lannisport,  a  duty  she  does  not  take  lightly  and  tries  her  best  to  always  stay  on  top,  either  that  be  to  know  who  comes  into  town,  what  goods  arrive  and  of  the  deals  happening  in  it — it  is  an  understatement  to  say  she  is  controlling,  and  likes  things  her  way.  while  some  may  frown  at  such  power  being  granted  to  an  ironborn,  most  have  come  to  terms  that  she  is  as  westerlander  as  one  can  be,  proved  by  her  loyalty  to  lannisport  and  to  the  many  children  she  has  birthed  and  raises  under  the  light  of  the  seven.  

truthfully,  she  does  not  feel  westerlander  —  but  also  she  no  longer  feels  ironborn.  this  is  not  a  sentiment  that  disturbs  her  much,  however,  for  she  is  content  with  her  position  and  very  busy  occupation,  but  she  is  growing  more  bothered  by  the  day  by  the  ironborn  growing  bolder  around  the  westerlands  coast  and  how  that  may  disturb  her  security  in  her  role.  besides  mother,  wife,  ruler,  daughter,  sister,  she  is  now  being  pushed  to  be  a  diplomat,  a  position  that  may  be  all  too  suited  to  her  silver  tongued  ways,  but  that  she  is  less  pleased  to  juggle,  as  it  may  jeopardize  all  that  she  prizes  and  worked  so  hard  to  build.

i’d  love  more  goodbrothers,  particularly  geirdis,  her  twin  sister  (  annie  has  put  the  wc  on  the  main  with  all  the  information  but  i’m  glad  to  help  out  with  more  ideas  if  needed  ).  the  goodbrothers  are  often  around  lannisport,  either  for  business  or  for  familial  affection.

the  friendship  is  not  entirely  stretched  to  the  other  ironborn,  but  it  wouldn’t  be  unlikely  some  do  come  in  lannisport  and  i  think  interactions  between  gwyn,  who  has  definitely  been  ‘corrupted’  by  the  way  of  the  westerosi  and  enjoys  dealing  with  the  gold  price  rather  than  the  iron  price,  and  her  old  countrymen.

anyone  from  the  westerlands  or  who  stops  by  lannisport  really.  this  also  includes  people  who  have  not  come  to  lannisport,  but  do  deals  within  the  city  or  with  the  lannisters  of  lannisport,  as  she  often  speaks  for  them  all

due  to  the  children  and  to  her  duties  at  the  realm  of  lannisport,  she  is  not  often  away  from  it,  but  it’s  possible  her  husband  could  have  taken  her  to  some  nearby  places,  or  even  acquaintances  from  that  travel  over  a  decade  ago,  when  she  was  just  one  out  of  many  goodbrothers

the  lannisters  of  lannisport!  please!!!  at  the  moment  i  only  have  her  husband  and  his  sister,  but  they’re  both  pretty  interesting  —  there’s  all  sort  of  things  to  explore  with  her  husband,  his  position  at  sea,  the  shift  to  proper  lordship  and  how  he  deals  with  her  ambitions  and  everything  else  in  their  relationship;  his  sister  is  rosamund  lannister,  who  is  acting  as  lady  /  doppleganger  for  myrcella  on  kings  landing.  i’ve  sent  wcs  for  the  both  of  them  but  i’m  very  game  to  discuss  or  change  anything  if  necessary!

#oath.intro

[westerosei]

º . ♔ ⸻ the capital of king’s landing welcomes LORAS of HOUSE TYRELL, the SER of HIGHGARDEN. news borne by a raven sends word that he bears a resemblance to ALI GOZUSIRIN. the TWENTY-SEVEN year old CIS MAN is reputed to be GRACIOUS and LOYAL, but with the eyes of court watching their every move, they might turn out to be SPOILED and IMPULSIVE. when songs are sung, their verses speak of IMPECCABLY POLISHED ARMOR (PERHAPS TOO ELEGANT, TOO EXTRAVAGANT, BUT WHO WOULD TELL HIM THAT?) ; THREE ROSES IN A FIELD OF GRASS, STRETCHING TOWARDS THE SUN, FOREVER UNTOUCHED ; A CHARMING GRIN ON HORSEBACK, SHARED WITH ALL, AND A SECOND, SOFTER SMILE, SHARED WITH ONE. whispers throughout the seven kingdoms claim that their allegiance lies with HOUSE TYRELL & RENLY BARATHEON, where they conspire to SHIFT THEIR GRANDMOTHER'S SUPPORT TO RENLY'S CAUSE. but in the end, fealty means little when you play the game of thrones.

hi all !! i’m s, and i write loras :) it’s my first time diving into the got rp scene in a while, so bear with me as i regain my footing, but i’m so excited to be here! my headcanons for loras are below the cut, i can’t wait to get writing with all of you!

as a child, after robert’s rebellion, loras was sent to squire for renly baratheon in the stormlands - while he hated the place, longing desperately for the warmth and sunshine of the reach, he found a distraction in lord renly himself. he would never admit it aloud, but loras would go anywhere (even to the depths of the north, though loras despises the cold) if it meant being at renly's side.

loras is incredibly fond of his siblings, despite the fact that he's closer to margaery's age than his elder brothers'. he would die for any of them, and he hopes that he's proven that, not only in word, but in action. he fears they may not feel the same way about renly's quest as he does, but he hopes that he'll be able to convince them as much as he hopes to convince his grandmother of renly's capabilities.

though loras' strength and prowess with a sword is something that's unquestionable, his book smarts are lacking. when he was being tutored as a child, he always wanted to get away, frequently sneaking off to find other things to do. he much preferred to be outside, running in the gardens or practicing swordsmanship. he was a troublesome child, but, in his mind, it wasn't as if he was going to be lord of highgarden at any point - willas was the one who needed to do well in tutoring; loras wasn't even the spare to the heir. he could handle his father's disapproval, but never his grandmother's, though - she was always the person he was trying to impress.

loras truly believes that renly would make a better king than stannis. he knows that stannis' claim is too strong for renly to pass it by without major repercussions, but stannis' personality is lacking, while renly is charismatic and charming, in loras' mind. he thinks renly would make a better king, and he would admit that (albeit only to renly and loras’ own inner circle) if asked.

loras genuinely believes that he is one of the best fighters that westeros has ever seen. he knows that his reputation precedes him, as well as the fact that some believe he's a better jouster than he is a fighter, but he knows better than to take those words to heart. he knows his worth, and he believes that anyone who doesn't see that worth will be proven wrong in due time. despite knowing his own worth, though, loras is reckless, and would never turn down a challenge. he knows that this could get him into trouble, but he hasn't yet found himself in a situation he couldn't get himself out of.

loras is wary of the whispers of a targaryen return to westeros. he knows of the history of his family intimately - the tyrells and the targaryens had always been closely intertwined. in fact, it was this intra-familial association that led to loras being sent to the stormlands to squire for renly, in an attempt to prove house tyrell's newfound loyalty to house baratheon after king robert ascended to the throne. his ancestors may consider him a traitor, but they are long dead, so he tries to pay that thought no mind. his devotion to renly is unshakable, and no targaryen from across the narrow sea could change that, even if those whispers about three dragons are true.

#oath.intro

[farewcllwanderlvst]

⸻ꜰʟɪᴘ ᴀ ᴄᴏɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴡᴀʏ ɪ ꜰᴀʟʟ | 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐉𝐎𝐘

º   .   ♔   ⸻   the  capital  of  king’s  landing  welcomes  THEON OF HOUSE GREYJOY,  the LORD of  PYKE.  news  borne  by  a  raven  sends  word  that  he  bear(s)  a  resemblance  to  JUNG JAE WON.  the  28  year  old  MALE  is  reputed  to  be  PASSIONATE and  BUOYANT,  but  with  the  eyes  of  court  watching  their  every  move,  they  might  turn  out  to  be  INSECURE and  HAUGHTY.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  A MIRROR SHATTERED , SHARDS DRIPPING CRIMSON, A PORTRAIT AS LOST AS THE REFLECTION WITHIN | A PIECE TRYING TO FIT, IT DOESN’T BELONG | AT WAR WITH TWO SIDES,  A HOWL IN YOUR HEART,  SALT IN YOUR BLOOD ; THERE IS NO VICTORY whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSE  STARK,  where  they  conspire  to  ASSIST THE STARKS, RETURN TO THE IRON ISLANDS & PROVE HIMSELF TO HIS FAMILY (BLOOD AND NOT).  but  in  the  end  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones. 

Headcanons  ⸻

Rose Colored Memories. Balon Greyjoy knew fairly early on that his youngest son was unlike the children he previously sired. He was too compassionate, too eager to please, and too emotional for the iron blood that should have been in his veins. He discarded the boy, and focused on the three children he could make use of. Alannys Greyjoy loved her youngest son all the same, and with Balon’s absence of love she attempted to compensate (she could never quite tip the scales, though she did succeed in citing the envy of her elder children. they all knew who mother’s favorite was). Theon, only a child, did not understand why his father never so much as glanced his way, why his siblings barely tolerated his presence, and why his father was so eager to pawn off the son he never had use of. Theon looks back on his time in Pyke with rose colored glasses and unhealthy idolization. He was too young to see the true picture of the life he lived. When asked about his time in Pyke and his family, he would say his brothers and uncle were far too playful sometimes (they weren’t cruel, they weren’t bullies, it was all well meaning fun), his mother was a wonderful storyteller (she wasn’t losing her mind, she always recognized him, why wouldn’t she?) and father mourned the loss of three sons, not two (he loved theon. he truly did! any bruises left on his skin were meant to make theon tougher, to make him strong. and his father never turned a blind eye to his tears because theon had never cried). 

A Fruitless Rebellion. Theon recalls the day with a vivid clarity in his mind. His elder brothers were dead, his mother was his tears, and his father’s dreams had been crushed into ash. He had attempted to comfort the man, only to be swatted away and stumble into his weeping mother’s arms. The bargain had been struck behind closed doors, and Theon had not been privy to the brokered deal deciding his fate. His mother had told him between her sobs, and Theon tried his very hardest not to shed any tears for the sake of his mother (and for the sake of his father as well, because iron born men did not cry). Theon had desperately tried to meet his father’s eyes, but the man did not spare him a glance. In his stead, he met the eyes of a man that Theon later found out was called Eddard Stark. Warm eyes despite his attire meant for the cold, he held gaze with the frightened child and Theon, for the first time, felt seen. More than a burden, more than a child to protect, but as a person. At the time he didn’t understand the feeling, deeming it strange, and unlike anything he had ever known before. It was a long time before he realized that gaze was a trait, but not of the North.  

Stranger in a Strange Land. The North was terribly cold. It was Theon’s first observation upon arrival to Winterfell but far from his last. The people acted strangely, he was their hostage and yet all he had ever known of the word appeared incorrect. Did hostage have the same meaning in the North as it did in the Iron Islands? In Pyke, a hostage meant shackles, a cell, lackluster food if any at all, and a clear lack of freedom. That could not be said for Winterfell, at least for the ten year old child who had played no part in his father’s uprising. Instead Theon was given warm furs, a room of his own, schooling and a friend in the form of Robb Stark. His memory was scarce on how the friendship came to be, only that it had never felt like obligation and it had made him feel safer than any hostage should have felt. 

Panopticon. It was with age that Theon began to learn, though vastly different from the ways of the Iron Islands, that the North did have shackles upon him nonetheless. Despite being treated as a ward in most respects (for which he should have been more grateful then he was), there were many ways to remember he was, just as well. a hostage to the North. A walking reminder came in the form of Jon Snow, the bastard son of Eddard Stark. What Theon first saw as favoritism, he later learned was indifference. Catelyn Stark favored her own children as any mother would, and in her eyes, neither Theon Greyjoy nor Jon Snow had a place in Winterfell. The worst of it was when other Lords and Ladies would visit Winterfell. He and Jon would be ushered away, out of sight or in the back of the room like they were some dirty secret the Starks kept behind locked doors. It was far easier taking out the ire he had on the bastard, and so Theon did. With taunts and cruelties he knew would hurt the lad the most. 

Hidden Afflictions. Distorting the past was far easier than the present. The Starks were his captors and he should have detested them, despite being aware of this (how it should have been) Theon knew it wasn’t true. Jon Snow was a target for his anger, and a rival (in the iron islands that would have been it, nothing more) but Jon Snow was also fun. Not only in his teasing and prodding (though those played a part as well) but as someone to challenge Theon, to be honest with in a way he could with little others. Little Rickon who toddled after him even when Lady Catelyn called him not to, with the most efficacious smile a toddler could possibly have. Little Bran, who Theon was sure would not remain so little, he would spring up like a weed and outgrow them all. He was already climbing to greater heights than the rest of them, it would only fit. There was Arya, who had a better aim than either of her brothers (not that theon would ever tell them, he would be admitting to seeing her practice weaponry). Sansa was more distant than the rest, much like her own mother, but Theon still remembered when she had only begun needlepoint. To this day, he didn’t know what possessed him when he offered his own clothes for her to practice (especially not when he purposely cut a hole into his own favorite shirt for her to fix up, but she’d been so delighted so there was no regret). Friendship with Robb Stark hadn’t been a choice, not a responsibility, and if Theon had given it a word to it he would have chosen honor. Someone to josh with, who wanted nothing in return but friendship, someone who cared what happened to Theon probably more than anyone he’d ever known (he’d like to think if his father did try a rebellion again, Robb would fight for his life but it was something Theon would never dare to ask). 

Heart in the North. When Eddard Stark became the hand of the king, Theon didn’t think much of it. It seemed more natural than not. If anything, little Sansa becoming a princess was more interesting news (not by much, it was fitting for her frankly). Then King Robert Baratheon was murdered, Eddard Stark was put on trial and Theon felt fear like he had never known before. It was more than the day Balon’s rebellion failed, when he’d lost his brothers and his home. Not only was Lord Stark at risk but Sansa and Arya as well. The thoughts were suffocating. Theon imagined never seeing Sansa and Arya ever again, he had always thought he’d watch them grow, see who they would become. He imagined never seeing Eddard Stark ever again, nevermore seeking his advice, never again seeing a fatherly gaze (he remembered meeting those eyes for the first time. that day when his father had refused to see theon, ned never hesitated). Winterfell was not his home, and the Starks were not his family.  So why did even the thought of their loss hurt so much more than any heartache he’d ever known? 

Loyalty in a War(d): The first time Theon received word of Eddard Stark’s survival, it had felt like a dream. If not for the wilting presence of Jaime Lannister, it would have felt far too surreal to be true. The sentencing was unkind but Ned Stark remained breathing, and that produced more relief than Theon could believe. Calling Robb Stark ‘King of the North’ came as easily as the breath in his lungs. It made think of his own father, and for the first time experienced seeds of doubt for the man’s actions. Balon Greyjoy struggled with something Theon had found terribly simple. Bending a knee to a remarkable man wasn’t an act that needed twice of thought, let alone a rebellion. Perhaps Robert Baratheon was not the great man that Robb Stark was? Or perhaps Theon Greyjoy was not the same man Balon Greyjoy was. Did this make him stronger of a man, or weaker of one? 

Plot Points⸻

An extension of the first plot point, is Theon’s warring viewpoint of what he was taught in the Iron Islands vs what he was taught in Winterfell. When Robb Stark is called King of the North, pledging fealty to him comes naturally to Theon, which makes him wonder why his father struggled so terribly with it (though struggling may be an understatement). He’s wondering if loyalty is something that makes him a weaker man than his father, or a stronger one? Is kneeling a weakness or a strength? Are the Starks his family or his captors? 

The second plot point is Theon’s opinion of his own self, and in relation, his place in the world. He wears his arrogance and pride like armor, as if it would hide all his many insecurities. It’s far easier boasting, cracking jokes, putting others down, than allowing any smidge of his own self worth into the forefront of his mind. He knows so little of his people, of the Iron Islands, the home he was supposed to return to someday (if he was ever to return at all, but that was a thought he often didn’t allow). Not to mention the sword hanging over his neck the day his father decided his son’s life wasn’t a worthy leverage any longer. The fear that he mattered to no one, that if he were to die his memory would be buried with the word unimportant just like his brother’s had been. Theon wanted to matter, if not only to the world but to others as well. Even the ones who claim to care for him, he harbors doubts. There was nothing Theon could offer them besides his own self, and that wasn’t much worth at all. 

#ᶠˡⁱᵖ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʷᵃʸ ᴵ ᶠᵃˡˡ | 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐉𝐎𝐘 #oath.intro

[gylesfarwynd]

º   .   ♔   ⸻   the  capital  of  king’s  landing  welcomes  GYLES of  HOUSE  FARWYND,  the  LORD  of  THE LONELY LIGHT.  news  borne  by  a  raven  sends  word  that  he  bears  a  resemblance  to  ANDREW KOJI.  the  THIRTY-FOUR  year  old  CIS MAN  is  reputed  to  be  OBSERVANT  and  CHARISMATIC,  but  with  the  eyes  of  court  watching  their  every  move,  they  might  turn  out  to  be  BLUNT  and DISTRUSTING.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  CALLOUSED FINGERTIPS ON SOFT PALMS ; THE GROUND, WARM WITH BLOOD FOLLOWING A FIST-FIGHT ; THE TASTE OF SALTWATER ON THE AIR .  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with GYSELLA GOODBROTHER and HOUSE GREYJOY,  where  they  conspire  to  CLEAR HIS FAMILY'S NAME and GAIN NOTORIETY.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones. 

BIO — tw :// violence, blood, abuse, neglect

ONE.

You are the oldest of three brothers, the lord heir to the Lonely Light, a title that is mocked as much as you take pride in it. The Iron Islands, surprisingly, treated you well as a young child, trained with a wooden sword in hand since your fingers had the dexterity to hold one. You played out on the beaches with your brothers, born in quick succession after yourself. Close knit, the three boys and their father were a quiet and desolate house, keeping mostly to themselves, finding friends only in the servant children. Reclusive. You showed a kindness innate in your heart that was not present in every house in the clash of fake weapons ringing with laughter and the sharing of meals as abashed as throwing food under the table for the dogs only when the coast was clear. The Farwynd boys were sweet children, but kindness is not always repaid in full to ironborns. It was too easy to be made a fool of, to be taken advantage of, and so the warmth you offered aged and turned to ice, cold and ruthless.

You don’t hold any animosity towards your family, even with your youngest brother’s birth costing your mother her life. The same could not be said, however, for your father, a once loud and eccentric man gone quiet with grief, his stoicism turned madness felt throughout the castle you called home. It was only you boys then, yourself no older than ten when you became the emotional caregiver of your younger siblings, a heavy burden for one so young. It turned you distant, reserved. You were to take over this house one day, and you could only shoulder so much distress before you began to bend and break under the very weight of it, your own sanity occasionally slipping with the neglect of your own psychological needs, “If you take care of everyone else,” therefore births the question, “Who takes care of you?”

TWO.

You remember the first time you were ordered to punish a servant, it haunts your dreams to this day even after having killed men, decades of piracy and battle, gore red and slick between fingers and caked under nails, splashed on your chest and neck leaving a horrible rust stain. You remember being fourteen and being told to leave more than a bruise, the feeling of a cane in fresh fingers, still a child but cruelty is bred in the veins of noble houses and, eager to please, you had done your worst. Still sometimes you wake in a cold sweat by candlelight and see the red ribbons of skin, but you had won something that day; praise. This, you were taught, is what it meant to be a Lord, to be the heir to your house. This was what it would take to be someone.

THREE.

House Farwynd’s name, particularly the branch of the Lonely Light, came with a reputation, a stereotype. You were called skinchangers, accused of lying with seals and birthing half-human children. You were considered mad by most. A nasty reputation, one that filled the oldest Farwynd son with hatred, the taste of poison on your tongue since you were old enough to understand the things said about your family, about your brothers. They were a quiet house, surely, kept to themselves on their land and rarely ventured out for politics or otherwise, and therefore they must be different; distasteful, animals. 

Fighting became your lifeblood, trained under many different masters you learned the art of battle, more fond of hand-to-hand combat than swordsmanship. You’re a ruffian, a monster on the battlefield, and loyal to a fault. You won’t hesitate when it comes to someone you love, those far and few between; your brothers, Asha Greyjoy, Gysella Goodbrother, and if necessary their families as well. You stands all too willing to lay your life on the line for the sake of fealty, of promises you had made either stone sober or drunk off of dinner wines, face flushed when you placed your hands on either of Asha’s shoulders after knowing her for so many years and said with earnesty, the dark pits of your eyes serious yet hazy, voice stern, fighting against a wretched warble, “I will not forget your goodwill, and I will fight with you as long as you will have me.” The laugh that followed and the breaking of a smile on both faces as she patted your back, a crooked grin. Though amused, you stood by the consequence that she believed you, and thus it was written in stone and blood. Above all else you are a man of your word, not a liar nor a thief. A distrustful, destructive, and harrowed creature, but gravely honest. 

FOUR.

She took you in, she trained you herself alongside Gysella Goodbrother and there a bond was built that would last, as far as you’re concerned, the rest of your life. She offers you something you had never had; independence, a choice. You had always been shackled to your name and made to play the part of the boy heir and the caretaker of your brothers. You gave everything you had to your family, and you would do it all again, but now they weigh on you, they hold you back. You’re a man now, a fighter, and you cannot bear to spend the rest of your days rotting away on the island and patiently waiting, as sick as it sounds, for your father to die. Gysella offers you the position of first mate, when she does it’s still a bit of a pipe dream, a long way to go to success, and at first your father vehemently refuses to allow you to leave as the heir to his house. He doesn’t want you to waste your time becoming a pirate, and you don’t want to be a pawn. The only hope he has as he watches you leave is that perhaps you’ll marry the Goodbrother girl, a hope that after a decade at sea seems to diminish with time. He hopes, you postulate, you marry at all. 

Your brothers, younger than you, have already found wives, fathered children, and you waste your time at sea, refusing all the proposals your father works so hard to scrounge up for you. You do not say this, but you still believe in a fantasy as old as time; love. The word, though demure and enticing, tastes like blood in your mouth so you swallow it down and instead say that marriage does not suit your lifestyle, and children even less so. Sometimes when you close your eyes and listen very closely, you can hear death knocking at your door already, “Are you sure,” it asks, teeth sharpened and dripping with black, “that this is how you want to die?” elongated canines and obsidian eyes, as if to taunt you, concludes with just a single word, “Alone?”

#oath.intro #i promise i write better than this i SUCK at bios #like bad #im gunna do a wc page and everything in a bit but i wanted to get this up rq

[quinnied]

#   pυinniǝb   :         independent   &   mutually   exclusive   𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑵𝑵   𝑭𝑨𝑩𝑹𝑨𝒀   of   fox’s     glee   .         headcanon   based   portrayal   set   primarily   within   season   one   -   three   of   the   show   ,   with   a   plethora   of   crossover   verses   available   .        𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎   𝖗   -   𝖒*𝖗𝖕𝖍𝖞   .         exploring   tropes   such   as   :         all   guys   want   cheerleaders   ,   stepford   smiler   ,   fallen   princess   ,   break   the   haughty   &   academic   alpha   bitch   .         penned   by   caroline      (   21   +   ,   she   /   her   ,   gmt   -   3      )

caard     ♔     interest tracker

other blogs  :     caroline forbes  ,  clarke griffin  ,  elizabeth cooper  ,  feyre archeron  ,  hailey upton  &  multimuse

#p. #updated : 05 / 23 / 22

[convxction]

Walhart: You forget your place, BOY. I am the Conqueror! I will unite the world! Chrom: No! ...I will. And not by FORCING all the people to choose the sword or the knee. Peace will only come by stoking people's hearts...not their fear.

🇨​🇴​🇳​🇻​🇮​🇨​🇹​🇮​🇴​🇳​: a STRONG belief that is not likely to change, or the strong feeling that your beliefs are RIGHT.

Independent & Selective & canon & *headcanon compliment & **mix between Eng. & Jp portrayal & multi ship & multi verse & oc friendly ♔𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐦 of Fire Emblem: Awakening / 覚醒Kakusei / 13 Roleplay blog. Shepherd by Faty and you can find me also @/sentofight a multi muses blog.

*headcanon: I have built chrom for years now so he is mostly based on how I interpret some events & dialogues & interactions featuring him or other characters who have mentioned him.

**mix of eng & jp: I do not entertain the idea of chrom being the butt of jokes in the f.e. h.eroes universe or any other eng. localization. don't get me wrong, i love a good humor but only when it does not rib and butcher a muse's character. i add some elements from the japanese lines to compliment my own portrayal of him. you are free to ask me to elaborate more about this. i love to share no worries! that does not mean that all eng lines are crap ok? i stand by the "You deserved better from me than one sword and a world of troubles." best line for chrom and it is the english one. in your face haters.

the three big rules: ♔have fun & ♔be patient & ♔be respectful & ♔drink water--ah, these are four LOL

♔SHEPHERDS' HQ || ♔ RULES || ♔KING || ♔ INQUIRIES || ♔ VERSES || ♔HEADCANONS || ♔ THREADS || ♔ SUPPORTS

#ooc.|| faty speaks #pinned post.|| #[two years later in making this ... finally. #[the aesthetic are all over the place but eeeeeeeeeeeh

[musiinqs]

♔   ◜  —   𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑀𝑂𝑁𝑇𝐸𝑆𝑄𝑈𝐼𝐸𝑈 𝐼𝑁𝑆𝑇𝐼𝑇𝑈𝑇𝐸 :                                                                𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒.  ◞

     ⟨ ♕  ⟩                       your royal highness,      it is our greatest  honour to extend to  you an invitation  to attend      the montesquieu institute for higher education. you are to be part      of a select few, alongside the other highly gifted candidates of our      educational program and so we offer our deepest congratulations.      we hope  the institute  will be a place  for you to  call  home, as we      wish   for  our  staff  and  facilities   to  cater  to  your   every  need.

the montesquieu institute  is an institution for higher education located just outside of the swiss city of geneva. founded in 1806, amidst the political upheaval of the early nineteenth century, the institute has set out to strenghten monarchal international relations and cooperation within europe. today, invitations to the acclaimed institute have been extended to royal heirs all across the globe who, as future leaders of the world, are key players within the future of power and peace.

giving the students ample opportunity to further not only their own education but their diplomatic relationships to other nations, the montesquieu institute offers excellent educational standards and everything else needed to shape their pupils into competent leaders. aside from the usual educational spectrum they focus especially on activities that further both leadership skills and team work, such as team sports or student government activities. knowing this, one  might  assume montesquieu students to be busy with self-improvement all day but while this is certainly the image the institution portrays to the outside world, it looks much different within its walls. here, these royals are after all just one thing: young adults, far removed from the tight shackles of their homelife and families, experiencing what might be their very first taste of freedom  at a place where, for once, they aren’t within the public eye.

♔   ◜  —   𝑆𝑈𝑀𝑀𝐴𝑅𝑌.  ◞

montesquieu institute is an 18+ discord verse telling the stories of both students and staff members at the renowned montesquieu institute for higher education. the institute caters to royal families across the globe, aiding these young adults in  not only  obtaining a degree, but in developing the skills to become the leaders of future generations. while some may grasp every chance of self-improvement, others see a whole new set of opportunities presented to them on a silver platter  —  away from the prying eyes of their families and the press, they can finally shamelessly experience their youth. or,  well,  let's not draw any conclusions before seeing next week's magazine headlines.

♔   ◜  —   𝐺𝑈𝐼𝐷𝐸𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆.  ◞

𝑶𝑵𝑬 .    just keep into account some basic roleplaying etiquette.  this means no godmodding, bubble roleplaying or metagaming. make sure to communicate with each other in case of (potentially) triggering subjects, and message the admins about any major plots. since we’re a small group, we also expect everyone to be welcoming  &  treat each other with respect. out of character drama will not be tolerated, and we ask you to please approach one of the admins, should you encounter any issues.

𝑻𝑾𝑶 .   the group has a total of fifteen muns, of which three slots are reserved for the admins. each mun is able to apply for  three muses  at the start, and can apply for a maximum of six over time. muns can pick up a fourth, fifth or sixth muse when demonstrating consistent activity for all others. we may expand on the number of muns within this group if possible or requested. all muns are expected to be eighteen years or older, and all muses  &  faceclaims should be between  twenty and thirty-five.

𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬 .   interest checks will be posted in our server on a weekly basis to take note of members’ engagement with and interest in the group. members will have twenty-four hours  to react to the interest check, otherwise they will be removed. hiatuses are possible, please contact an admin in that case !

𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 .    diversity is heavily encouraged  &  we ask all muns to consider using faceclaims of colour, or faceclaims who are gender diverse and / or body diverse. we ask that for every mun, at least half their characters are diverse. this means that for your initial three characters, at least one must be diverse.

𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬 .   we really urge members to be diligent when choosing faceclaims. for monarchies of non-white countries, we expect you to choose faceclaims whose ethnicity (partially) matches the country of your choosing. for example, thai royals will have to be thai. they may be of mixed ethnicity. we also allow for royal families of colour in white countries, as well as royals of colour for white countries as half siblings or adopted siblings, but not vice versa.

𝑺𝑰𝑿 .    please be mindful of others when writing (potentially) triggering content  &  use trigger warnings, the nsfw channel feature or spoiler tags whenever necessary. we also ask you to communicate with your writing partners, just to ensure everyone is comfortable writing mature content. the list of triggers we would like you to keep into account this group can be found below.

♔   ◜  —   𝑀𝑈𝑁 𝑆𝐿𝑂𝑇𝑆.  ◞

the discord verse has a total of  eighteen slots  of which currently  one  are available.

♔   ◜  —   𝑀𝑂𝑅𝐸 𝐼𝑁𝐹𝑂𝑅𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁.  ◞

for more information about  montesquieu institute  we invite you to join our discord server  in the source link.  the server will include more information, such as application format, current members, established royal families  &  wanted connections. for any questions, feel free to approach us via tumblr  or  message any of the admins through discord !

𝐽𝑂𝐼𝑁 𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝐷𝐼𝑆𝐶𝑂𝑅𝐷 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑂𝑈𝑅𝐶𝐸 𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐾 !

#rpt #discord verse #discord rp #appless rp #royal rp #she's finally here

[gryffindordaughterofathena]

MEET MY OPEN HEART MC

Although all of us play with the same main character for Open Heart, yet the characters that we have created in our head are vastly different from each other and even from our in game version. So I thought I'll make this post with the two versions of my MC, Diana Ramirez. Because I love them both.

Just a normal girl who gets thrown into things that can hardly be considered normal during her three years of residency at Edenbrook Hospital.

*I use the white MC face in game, despite my MC being Indian-American, because the Hispanic MC's smile creeps me out a little.

Over the past one year Dr. Diana Ramirez has become a comfort character. So here's everything about her.

♕︎𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝔻𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕒

♔︎Name : Dr. Diana Torsha Ramirez

♔︎Home : Her family has two homes, one in Kolkata in West Bengal, India and another in Chicago, Illinois (her parents currently stay here)

♔︎Ethnicity : Indian-American

[Note : Her Dad's American while her mom's Indian. We will learn more about them soon.]

♔︎Nicknames : Di, Rookie and Torsha

♔︎Immediate Family : Stephen Ramirez(Father), Indrani Mitra Ramirez (Mother), Daniel Stotra Ramirez (Younger Brother)

♔︎Education : John Hopkins University

♔︎Appearance : Long Wavy Black hair, dark brown eyes.

♕︎𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖 ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕞 𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕤 𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝔻𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕒

❁She's almost never seen without her glasses as she's highly myopic. Her nearsightedness has lead to many embarrassing situations all throughout her extremely awkward school years.

❁She is well versed in English, Hindi and Bengali.

❁Diana is a mythology nerd and a huge potterhead.

❁She is extremely close to both her parents and although she will never admit it she loves her brother to death.

❁She keeps in touch with her best friend Valerie Thomas even now, they have monthly video chatting sessions where they catch up about their respective lives.

❁Di says she's an animal person if asked whether she's a cat or a dog person. But she secretly a little biased towards cats (don't tell that to Jenner 🤫)

❁On her 17th birthday her maternal grandmother gave her a watch that used to belong to her, she wears it on every important event of her life.

❁She can recite Bengali poems and she often sends Tagore poems recited by her to her family in India.

❁She's terribly arachnophobic.

❁Unlike popular belief, she's one of those rare doctors who can function without multiple cups of caffeine.

Tagging:

❁She and Naveen often have long discussions about their shared cultural heritage.

@genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @drariellevalentine @rookie-ramsey @aleynareads @openheartfanfics @miss-smrxtiee @terrm9 @aestheticartsx @fireycookie @maurine07 @starrystarrytrouble @schnitzelbutterfingers @tsrookie @anntoldstories @iemcpbchoices @stygianflood @sophxwithers @actuallybored @iloveethanramsey @natureblooms24 @chemist-ana @mercury84choices @casey-v @uneravine @mm2305 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @smilex1104 @missmiimiie @shanzay44 @sweetheartdetectivex @potionsprefect @headoverheelsforramsey @jerzwriter @mainstreetreader @coffeeheartaddict @adiehardfan @mia143 @kdjdhdvksojs

#dr. diana ramirez #open heart #choices #choices stories we play #pixelberry #meet my mc #oph meet your mc

[godsvvept]

º   .   ♔   ⸻   the  capital  of  king’s  landing  welcomes  ELIA  SAND  of  HOUSE  MARTELL,  the  BASTARD  /  LADY  of  SUNSPEAR.  the  TWENTY - FOUR  year  old  DEMIWOMAN  is  reputed  to  be  GREGARIOUS  and  VENTURESOME,  but  with  the  eyes  of  court  watching  their  every  move,  they  might  turn  out  to  be  UNCOUTH  and  TEMERARIOUS.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  A STEADY HAND WRAPPED AROUND A LANCE, READY TO STRIKE AND BREAK INTO A HUNDRED PIECES AGAINST THE OPPONENT; "I AM SEEKING, I AM STRIVING, I AM IN IT WITH ALL MY HEART"; BLACK BRAIDS, OF THE HORSE AND OF THE GIRL RIDING IT, ALMOST AS ONE.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSE  MARTELL,  where  they  conspire  to  COMPETE  AND  COME  OUT  AS  VICTORIOUS  ON  THE  KING’S  WEDDING’S  FESTIVITIES’  JOUSTS  &  PROVE  HERSELF  WORTHY  OF  TAKING  PART  ON  HER  FATHER’S  PLANS.  but  in  the  end  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  

full  name  : elia  sand. alias  /  nickname  :  el, lady  lance. age  :  twenty - four. gender  and  pronouns  :  demiwoman  and  she / they. orientation  :  bisexual  biromantic. occupation : n / a  ( bastard  of  sunspear  +  aspirational  jouster? ) faceclaim :  banita  sandhu

date  of  birth  :  eleventh  month  of  the  year  tba. parents  :  oberyn  martell  and  ellaria  sand siblings  : four  older  half - sisters  and  three  younger  sisters. significant  other : n/a. she  has  no  intention  of  nor  inclinance  for  marriage. religious affiliation : the  faith  of  the  seven.

                   application  ; full  statistics ; tdlr  and  connections  below  the  cut.

trigger  warning  for : mild  mentions  of  sexism.

names  have  power,  a  weight  to  them  that  can  lift  you  up  or  carry  you  down  —  elia  sand,  fortunately,  lives  a  life  that  allows  her  to  pick  the  first,  disregarding  any  comparisons  between  them  and  their  more  infamous  namesake.  the  name  is  the  only  thing  they  have  in  common  anyways  —  the  name  and  oberyn  martell,  possibly  the  one  true  center  of  this  elia’s  world.  as  the  oldest  of  the  new  generation  of  sand  snakes,  elia’s  life  is  much  inspired  on  her  father,  from  her  preference  to  her  sisters  over  anyone  else,  to  her  liveliness,  even  to  her  hobbies.

they  first  ride  a  horse  as  an  infant,  oberyn’s  left  arm  around  them  and  the  right  hand  at  the  reins.  elia  doesn’t  think  she  has  stopped  riding  ever  since  —  either  that  be  with  her  father,  her  mother,  her  sisters,  her  cousins,  and,  finally,  alone.  it  is  easily  the  thing  she  likes  doing  the  most,  and  she  treats  horses  both  as  faithful  companions  but  also  as  a  reliable  travelling  method.  

elia  loves  traveling,  and  has  consistently  explored  dorne  for  the  past  five  years,  mostly  as  a  semi  -  anonymous  presence  granted  by  her  bastard  status,  her  carelessness  about  her  own  outlook,  the  blades  she  carries  in  her  body  and,  oddly  contradictory  but  simultaneously,  the  very  poignant  features  that  tell  just  who  she  is  (  and  anyone  in  dorne  knows  better  than  to  cross  a  daughter  of  the  house  martell,  much  less  one  of  the  viper’s  own  spawns  ).  as  such,  she  has  gained  quite  a  knowledge  of  not  only  the  dornish  terrain,  but  also  of  the  people,  noble  born  or  not.  

unfortunately,  this  does  not  stretch  to  beyond  the  borders  of  dorne,  for  as  wild  as  she  may  be,  elia  knows  she  can  not  tip  too  much  outside  of  the  line  not  for  her  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  those  who  love  and  worry  about  her  (  they  had  one  elia  leaving  dorne,  and  never  returning,  and  this  elia  knows  that  as  much  as  she  tries  not  to  catch  up  with  ghosts,  there  is  only  so  much  she  can  do  about  it  ).

she’s  lived  her  life  mostly  unencumbered  due  to  her  privileges  as  oberyn’s  daughter,  and  her  mother’s  worries  of  allowing  her  in  the  martell  schemes,  but  elia,  too,  was  granted  a  role,  only  recently.  for  years,  she  has  yearned  to  be  a  part  of  the  notorious  sand  snakes  —  the  sisters  she  has  admired  for  her  whole  life,  each  more  terrifying  and  magnificent  than  the  other  —  and  even  if  that  has  been  delayed  (  now  for  her  own  sake  ),  it  would  have  been  very  hard  for  her  elders  to  keep  her  out  of  it  when  an  actual  targaryen  comes  to  share  a  roof  with  you,  along  with  her  essosi  companions  and  whole  three  dragons.  

elia,  unlike  nymeria  or  tyene,  lack  the  finesse  for  politics,  and,  unlike  obara,  she  lacks  the  toughest  skin  of  a  true  warrior  and  yet  unlike  sarella,  she  has  often  skipped  all  of  boring  history  lessons  given  on  the  water  gardens,  but  elia,  too,  is  a  note  -  worthy  member  of  her  house,  and  she  can  be  of  help.  

less  infamous  than  her  sisters,  the  martell  hope  she  can  use  that  “anonymity”  in  their  favor,  learning  of  kings  landing  and  telling  both  about  it,  and  also  dorne,  to  a  queen  who  is  more  foreign  than  she  is  westerosi.  is  it  a  ploy  to  keep  her  obedient  and  feeling  as  if  she  belongs,  as  if  she  matters?  perhaps.  is  it  working?  well,  we’ll  see.  elia  definitely  is  trying,  and  is  excited  to  do  so  —  it’s  better  that  she’s  been  advised  to  act  as  if  nothing  out  of  normal  is  happening,  and  that’s  what  she  hopes  she  can  do,  even  in  such  an  unfamiliar  place  as  king’s  landing.

fondly  known  as  lady  lance  around  her  acquaintances  and  some  competitors,  elia  has  started  jousting  as  a  teenager,  inspired  by  their  father’s  own  remarkable  career  on  the  chivalrous  sport.  despite  some  prejudice  faced  by  her  insistence  on  playing  and  running  when  it  is  not  a  typically  feminine  sport  (  not  that  she  is  typically  feminine,  anyways  ),  elia  is  headstrong  and  continuously  pushes  to  make  themselves  known  and  a  viable  competitor  on  the  tiltyard,  something  that  they  intend  to  also  happen  in  king’s  landing  —  no  better  opportunity  than  on  a  wedding’s  celebrations,  after  all.  

#oath.intro #this will likely still be edited #but i wanted to get it out so i can properly start plotting for my bb

[proeliarp]

𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐖𝐈𝐍  𝐎𝐑  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐃𝐈𝐄.  once  again,  thank  you  all  so  much  for  the  dedication  put  into  applying  here  at  proelia  ;  it’s  truly  been  a  pleasure  reading  all  of  your  applications  &.  we’re  tremendously  grateful  (  if  your  application  is  not  listed  below  please  check  your  dms  ).  we’re  looking  forward  to  both  speaking  &.  plotting  with  each  of  you  tomorrow  (  bear  with  us  while  all  pages  &.  doc  are  properly  updated  as  blogs  are  received  )  —  welcome  to  proelia  !  please  review  our  checklist  and  sail  to  westeros  within  the  next  twenty - four  hours.

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  freyja  stark  née  umber,  the  queen  of  the  north.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears the  resemblance  to  janet  montgomery.  the  thirty -  two  year  old  cis  female  was  incisive  &  collected  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  austere  &  withdrawn.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of   a  heart  locked  behind  a  steeled  cage  for  only  few  to  view  plainly, for it beats too passionately  and  betrays  an  icy  veneer. fire; fury hidden behind a collected gaze . blue roses woven into dark locks ,  as  clear  a  statement  as  any  crown  would  be. a cloak swept against the snow : she wolf - queen in the north.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  the  north /  king  alaric,  where  they  conspire  to  rule  &  protect.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  kay,  24,  est, she / her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  roselia gardener,  the  princess  of  the  reach.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to  synnove karlsen.  the  twenty-six  year  old  cisfemale  was  bewitching  &  educated  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  opinionated  &  stubborn.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  thick  caramel  tresses  flowing  undone  long  down  her  back  with  red  undertones  ,  stoic  green  eyes  ,  salty  waves  breaking  against  her  elegant  skirts.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  gardener  and  the  reach,  where  they  conspire  to  create  solid  unions  and  alliances  to  benefit  her  people  and  secure  her  family's  seat.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  a  ,  27  , pst  ,  she/her  .  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  perrianne  gardener,  the  princess  of  the reach.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to sophie cookson.  the  thirty-three  year  old  cis woman  was  gregarious  &  playful  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  dishonest  &  greedy.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  bright flowers woven into pale hair , fingertips stained red with the juices of berries , lips twisted into a mischievous smile, holding in a hidden mockery.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  gardener / themselves,  where  they  conspire  to  leave  the  reach  and  be  adored.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  shay,  25+,  gmt, she/they.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  MINISA DURRANDON NEE TARTH,  the QUEEN CONSORT of THE STORMLANDS.  a  raven  sent  word  that   she  bears  the  resemblance  to  SAI BENNETT.  the  THIRTY  year old  CIS WOMAN  was  VEHEMENT  &  PROTEAN  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  QUIXOTIC & TRACTABLE.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  THE SCENT OF JASMINE AND HONEY, BEAUTIFUL AND PIERCING DARK GAZE, SOFT BROWN HAIR, FALLING DOWN IN CURLS.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSES DURRANDON & TARTH  where  they  conspire  to  PROTECT HOUSE DURRANDON’S INTERESTS.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  ( ginny,  26,  gmt,  she/her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  derran  drumm,  the  second  in  command  of  the  iron  fleet  /  lord  of  old  wyk.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bears  the  resemblance  to  daniel  sharman.  the  thirty  five  year  old  man  was  intelligent  &  assured  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  zealous  &  morbid.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  boy  in  a  grip,  like  cataleptic  rigidity,  the  fatal  hold  of  ancestral  ghost  stories  and  paternal  devotion,  swirling  in  the  water  below  like  an  eddy  that  threatens  to  pull  everything  under ;  blood  spilled  in  the  water,  life  is  gifted  to  the  waves  and  is  granted  in  return ;  iron  skeleton  braves  any  storm  with  confidence,  for  death  has  come  and  his  price  already  paid ;  divinity  is  in  his  bones  and  he  will  not  squander  it.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  greyjoy  /  the  iron  islands  /  the  drowned  god,  where  they  conspire  to  support  the  salt  king  and  serve  the  drowned  god.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  logan,  23,  est,  she/her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  toman  storm,  the  bastard  of  storm’s  end.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bears  the  resemblance  to  chance  perdomo.  the  twenty  five  year  old  man  was  kind  &  hardworking  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  uncertain  &  susceptible.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  a  name  that  doesn’t  suit,  cannot  describe  a  gentle  rain  that  cools  the  afternoon ;  fate  playing  a  cruel  joke  and  the  world  points,  marking  a  child  as  the  punchline ;  soft  whispers,  tender  smiles,  the  hint  of  truth  in  dark  eyes ;  he  is  not  a  storm  yet,  but  it  is  coming,  is  it  not ?  steady  the  floodgates,  child,  do  not  let  yourself  drown  in  your  own  hurricane.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  themselves,  where  they  conspire  to  make  something  of  himself.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  logan,  23,  est,  she/her.  )

    ♔  →  westeros  presents  JOANNA SNOW,  the  BASTARD SEER of  GREYWATER WATCH.  a  raven  sent  word  that  SHE  /  THEY  bear  the  resemblance  to  JESSIE  MEI  LI.  the  TWENTY  SIX  year  old  DEMIWOMAN  was  INTREPID  &  LIONHEARTED  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  OBSTINATE  &  UNCOUTH.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  THE EYES, A GATEWAY TO THE SOUL : MURKY VIRIDIAN FOG GIVING WAY TO VESTIGES OF WHAT ONCE WAS, WHAT IS, WHAT WILL BE — DO WE CALL THIS PROPHECY OR CURSE? HAS THERE EVER BEEN A DISTINCTION? ; SEE THE IMAGE OF A WOLF? THROW IT AWAY. THERE IS NO WOLF, THERE IS NO BARING OF TEETH, NO SNARL AND BITE AND SNAP. THERE IS THICK FLOOD AND LICHEN AND A WHISPER OF WINTER ABOVE. THERE IS A SNAKE, UNASSUMING, VENOM LYING IN WAIT ‘NEATH ITS TONGUE FOR WHEN IT IS HURT. THE LINE BETWEEN PREDATOR AND VICTIM IS ALWAYS TOO THIN. ; THIS ANCIENT, TERRIBLE THING INSIDE GROWS TEETH AND GNAWS ON MARROW AND IT LOOKS LIKE A MIRROR IMAGE OF HERSELF. THERE CAN BE LOVE IN LETTING YOURSELF BE DEVOURED.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSE REED  /  THE  NORTH,  where  they  conspire  to  BE LEGITIMIZED AND HELP HER BROTHER PUSH FOR AN END TO THE WAR OF THE NORTHERN KINGDOM. but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  neve,  twenty one,  ast,  they/them.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  MEDA STARK,  the  PRINCESS  of  WINTERFELL / THE NORTH a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to  ADELAIDE  KANE.  the  TWENTY EIGHT  year  old  CIS WOMAN  was  ASTUTE  &  COMPASSIONATE  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  PROUD  &  HOT-TEMPERED.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  THE REGAL TILT OF A HEAD BORN FOR GLORY; A LONG WOODEN MAP TABLE STREWN WITH SIGILS AND BANNERS; A SHE-WOLF CIRCLING HER PACK, BARING HER TEETH AT INTRUDERS.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSE STARK / THE NORTH,  where  they  conspire  to  END THE WAR OF THE NORTHERN KINGDOM AND UNITE THE NORTH UNDER STARK RULE, AND SECURE THE SAFETY AND PROSPERITY OF THE SUBJECTS OF THE NORTHERN KINGDOM  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  hayley,  21,  cst,  she/her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  tomar  stark,  the  prince  of  winterfell.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bears  the  resemblance  to  francois  arnaud.  the thirty-three  year  old  cis male  was  intelligent  &  agile  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  recluse  &  sarcastic.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  retreating  to  quiet  corners  in  the  evenings  with  a  book  , steel  clashing  as  his  grin  widens  , wanderlust  that  never  seems  to  fade  no  matter  where  he  goes  , fingers  gripping  hips  of  strangers  every  other  night  , chills  to  the  bone  that  never  seem  to  fade  ,  trading  stories  by  a  roaring  fire.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  stark,  where  they  conspire  to  protect  his  family  and  help  bring  the  entirety  of  the  north  back  under  stark  rule.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  lucy,  24,  aest,  she/her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  serana  gardener,  the  princess  of  the  reach.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to  aurora  ruffino.  the  twenty - seven  year  old  cis  woman  was  vivacious  &  intrepid  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  irreverent  &  obstinate.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  minuscule  life preserved  within  a  golden  tear  of  amber  ,  the  doe  that  raises  its  head  to meet  the  eye  of  the  hunter  ,  a  fair  maiden  riding  nude  upon  a  silken  steed.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house gardener,  where  they  conspire  to  ascend  the  family  throne  unfettered  by  marriage.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  taryn,  21+,  pst,  she  and  her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  peregrine ‘pip’ gardener,  the  crown prince  of  the reach.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bear(s)  the  resemblance  to  josha stradowski.  the  thirty  year  old  cis man  was  lighthearted  &  optimistic  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  rakish  &  unreliable.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  wine spilling from an open, laughing mouth, the teeth and tongue stained burgundy; the kiss of an arrow to the cheek, and the drip of blood left behind;  too many rings scraping against a goblet, afternoon light cleaving through the gems like stains on the table wood.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  himself & house gardener,  where  they  conspire  to  avoid taking his ancestral throne at all costs.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  abby,  24,  pst,  they & she.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  aeron  kenning,  the  lord commander  of  the nights’ watch.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bears  the  resemblance  to  tom hardy.  the  forty - three  year  old  cismale  was  disciplined  &   protective before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  blunt  &  irritable.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  the sound of a sword being unsheathed from its holster, trading in full sentences in favor of speaking only through grunts, & an unwavering gaze from atop the wall.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  the north,  where  they  conspire  to  protect the seven kingdoms.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  alyssa,  twenty - three,  est,  she/her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  herah of myr,  the  red priestess  of  the dreadfort.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bear(s)  the  resemblance  to  anna diop.  the  thirty-three  year  old  cis woman  was  hawk-eyed  &  ambitious  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  inflexible  &  unforgiving.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  a dark hand passing through flame, uncharred; hills of rolling green and frosted white, shot through with crimson cloaks catching in the winter’s wind; whispers in dark corners, gathering like shadows between the lamplight.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house bolton and the temple of r’hllor,  where  they  conspire  to  earn the trust of the red king and leverage the red priests as close advisors.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  abby,  24,  pst,  they & she.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  vaelena  velaryon,  the  lady  of  driftmark.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to  sasha  sup.  the  twenty - three  year  old  cis  woman  was  refined  &  perceptive  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  detached  &  cunning.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  your  reflection  cast  in  the  great  black  eye  of  an  unidentifiable  beast  ;  the  uncanny  grace  of  a  woman’s  body  rising  from  dark  waters  ,  still and  pale  as  a  knife  glinting  under  moonlight  ;  gowns  silver  and  thin  as  sea  mist.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  themselves  and  their  brother,  where  they  conspire  to  amuse  themselves  through  chaos  and  rectify  doubts  in  house  velaryon  left  by  a  senile  father.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  taryn,  21+,  pst,  she  and  her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  alyssa  arryn,  the  queen of the mountain and vale.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to  lindsey morgan.  the  thirty one  year  old  cis woman ��was  confident  &  witty  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  sharp-tongued  &  overly- zealous.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  the disquiet one may sometimes feel in the presence of a powerful and calmly imposing person ; beautiful but sharp features , both enchanting and deadly at the same time, daring to test the limits for the sake of a bountiful reward.   whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house arryn and the vale,  where  they  conspire  to  become the queen the vale she deserves by helping bring about more glorious progress through innovative plans and thereby also etching her name in history amongst other legendary arryns and making her late father proud.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  ( garnet,  27+,  gmt+8,  she/they.  )

     ♔ → westeros presents yadgar greystark, the ruling lord of house greystark. a raven sent word that he bears the resemblance to cengiz coşkun. the thirty five year old cis man was steadfast & resolute before the dawn of winter, but has now become intransigent & bellicose. when songs are sung, their verses speak of the menacing scrape of a great axe on the ice; howling winds through desolate guard towers; frostbitten earth crunching beneath ragged paws; a shame of ancient trespass staining his mantle the red of betrayer; recoiling from the spread of dense and blinding shadows as they overtake what he once fiercely loved; a hound’s teeth and wolf’s blood; the ache of winter deep in his bones that turns all softness to verglas; trees in the godswood calling his name. whispers throughout the seven kingdoms claim that their allegiance lies with house greystark, house bolton (tentatively), and the north, where he conspires to see king rogar restored from his shadowy plague and house greystark well-seated in a unified north. but in the end, fealty means little when you play the game of thrones. ( grey, 21+, cst, she/her. )

     ♔ → westeros presents vyros velaryon, the master of ships / lord of the blackwater peninsula / house velaryon. a raven sent word that he bears the resemblance to henry cavill. the thirty seven year old cis man was ardent & intuitive before the dawn of winter, but has now become aloof & disillusioned. when songs are sung, their verses speak of the sting of salt in a weeping wound; a seafarer’s tragic trade of infinite horizons for duty’s stagnant shore; a lonesome tower, an island damned; palms torn raw by heavy rope; the roar of the insurgent sea at the hulls of a masterful fleet; a siren’s eerie whisper ever curling at his ear. whispers throughout the seven kingdoms claim that their allegiance lies ( almost begrudgingly ) with house velaryon, where he conspires to see his younger sister rule in the stead of their diminished father so that he can remain active at sea. but in the end, fealty means little when you play the game of thrones. ( grey, 21+, cst, she/her. )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  vivienne  hightower  née  redwyne,  the  ruling  lady  of  hightower.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to  emilia  clarke.  the  thirty  year  old  cis  female  was  bold  &  compassionate  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  stubborn  &  spiteful.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  silk  dresses  with  flashes  of  skin  ,  a  mother’s  love  ,  reaching  for  a  rose  only  to  be  pricked  by  a  thorn  ,  salt  air  blowing  soft  silver  strands  across  her  face  , a  cool  exterior  that  hides  warmth  beneath  it.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  hightower,  &  house  redwyne,  where  they  conspire  to  further  her  own  connections.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  lucy,  24,  aest,  she/her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  seren mormont,  the  lady of bear island.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she  bears  the  resemblance  to  millie brady.  the  twenty six  year  old  cisfemale  was  personable  &  venturesome  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  judgmental  &  vulnerable.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  sitting at the roots of a shaded tree with a book of lore, a strong feminine presence that instills fear and curiosity, rumors whispered of changed forms from woman to bear.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house stark, house mormont,  where  they  conspire  to  bring house mormont honor by any means.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  ren,  28,  pst,  she/her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  qoren  sand,  the  red  priest / sworn sword  of  the  dreadfort.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bears  the  resemblance  to  remy hii.  the  twenty seven  year  old  male  was  loyal  &  determined  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  zealous  &  wary.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  brown eyes lit red with the reflection of the flames from which they draw life and loyalty,  sparks flying from the clash of two blades clenched together in brutal warfare, & a sheet of inky dark hair being unwound from it's tight braid over shoulders knotted with scars of flames long put out.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  bolton  /  the  lord  of  light,  where  they  conspire  to  spread the word of the lord of light and reclaim the seat of the red king.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  juno,  23,  gmt+12,  she/her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  gwynesse greyjoy,  the  high queen  of  the  iron islands.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bears  the  resemblance  to  phoebe fox.  the  thirty two  year  old  female  was  witty  &  diplomatic  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  has  now  become  ruthless  &  exacting.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  a whip sharp smile and a curse falling from the same set of lips, the hiss of the wind rushing along the walls of a stone keep and a persistent candle-flame burning long into the night, and a clear voice calling like a gull to the people of the isles, her people, for whom she would do any and all things.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  greyjoy,  where  they  conspire  to  strengthen the isles and solidify her sovereignty.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  juno,  23,  gmt+12,  she/her. )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  jillyan  lannister,  the  princess  of  the westerlands.  a  raven  sent  word  that she   bears  the  resemblance  to  sobhita  dhulipala.  the  twenty - eight  year  old  cisfemale  was  clever  &  adaptable  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  vindictive  &  distrusting.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  the lingering scent of seawater mixing with warm vanilla, open books scattered throughout a sunny bedroom, & tiny bejeweled daggers hidden in lacy garters.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  lannister,  where  they  conspire  to  further the power of her family.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  alyssa,  twenty - three,  est,  she / her.  )

     ♔  →  westeros  presents  drakel  ‘ drak ‘  stark,  the  prince  of  winterfell.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bear(s)  the  resemblance  to  timothee  chalamet.  the  twenty  five  year  old  cis  male  was  structured  &  progressive  before  the  dawn  of  winter,  but  have  now  become  competitive  &  austere.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  crows looming above moldering terrain of frosty white snow alike a blanket of demise that will ultimately devour a lone soul whole ; impregnable walls sculpted of stone and wars and blood shed by the innocent that have observed you raise from boyhood into a man and carry vile whispers ; abrupt snap of crimson - soaked jaws of a cornered wolf, it will fight and spar until the very final breaths are ripped from its lungs.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  stark  /  the  north,  where  they  conspire  to  play  his  part  in  ending  the  war  in  the  north  &  ultimately  find  his  place  in  the  world.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.  (  polar,  21+,  aest,  they  /  them.  )

#accepted

[soulcluster-moved]

@spakona​ : ✔ ♔ ☀ ➸

✔: A plot you would love to play out with your character

let’s go with an adamora plot, for reasons. honestly, going out and doing their own thing? like the guardians are a bigger group but the individuals often break off to do their own thing. and gam and adam always pairing up, sometimes drax too. cause it just warmed my heart to see all three of them (adam + the mean & greens) taking on the church of universal truth together. it’s good i love it. OK BUT BACK ON TRACK so adam and gam pairing off to do missions or whatever together. and one time being in this alien town, walking around, just having fun looking at stuff and getting new gear if gam wants it (adam doesnt really need much) and like...getting little gifts for each other?? ;a; just enjoying themselves. they def hold hands cause i said so, and doing something kinda normal ????? my heart

or oh o h him flying with her. just for fun tho! you know, a trip around a planet, see the sights, stop somewhere secluded and admire the view. I JUST WANNA GIVE THEM SOFF THINGS CAUSE THEY DESERVE IT 

♔: A character (in general) that you'd like to interact with

*picks up all my tomb raider muses* lara croft or uncharted muses. or OR more marvels. those kinds of verses in general, the action adventure treasure hunting or space stuff. 

☀: Another Mun that you really admire/respect

have you met @delamuertes​ ??? It’s been so long but I love carol and just getting to know her and talking with her so much, I really respect and admire her for a multitude of reasons. like, knowing exactly what she wants in regards to rp and sticking to what makes sense for her muses, the principle behind that, knowing where her interest lay, her dedication to her muses, setting her own boundaries, idk i just feel like meeting her and becoming friends has really helped me in my own personal growth. and we’re just often on the same wavelength about a lot of things. it’s one of those friendships that’s like, i dont know who I would be if I had not met this person 

➸: Something you like about your fandom

w-which one.... I will say that when I was more active in the fallout fandom, I was absolutely floored and adored all of the beautiful OCs that were present and I hope that’s still a thing. like six? i love six. i love six sm. 

#spakona #ooc #answered #there's a million adamora ideas in my head