Temptation drove the Flame of Mars from her sacred duty and guilt trapped her in exile. When she is summoned by the one she betrayed will she find absolution or will everything she'd believed she'd ever known about her Queen be upended?

When blood is stronger than all else, Alexandra Danvers, Kinkiller is deemed unworthy of Kara Zor-El Danvers' radiant light. Yet is the darkness of her banishment more than the Last Daughter of Krypton can bear?

In the wake of the defeat of the Glorious Strategist, the Jade Empire has entered a golden age under the rule of last daughter of the Sun. Yet the Heavenly Lily sits upon a lonely throne and the keeper of her heart and the Heroine of the Empire has vanished. Does Heaven's Scion have power to reclaim the woman she loves...from herself? Will the Fate of Creation decide their path?

40 years after the defeat of Galaxia Earth is a shining Utopia with Crystal Tokyo as its crown jewel. Within the twinkling spires of the city her guardians go about their daily lives. The soldier of water and wisdom will find her routine disrupted by the most unexpected of sources...but perhaps such a thing is not unwelcome to a solitary heart.

The pursuit of love lost and denied is a bittersweet song, rife with sour notes and riotous disharmony. The Lioness slowly grows deaf to all other songs than the burning lament of love deemed unremarkable and unworthy. Even the lilting tune of redemption and enduring love will not turn her from her path. Love is pain...pure and absolute and the Lioness finds rapture such cruelty.

Seiya has a strange dream that sends the Starlights back to Earth. Yet the darkness of destiny looms over Earth and her kin. Do those that avatar the planets of the Sol system have the strength to combat destiny? Is destiny what they assume it to be?

In a world torn by war, love is fleeting as the winds while duty is the only absolute. For two hearts torn apart by this creed perhaps they will find that this absolute truth is what they decree it to be. Kassandra/Daphnae

Reflections of the Unohana heart, torn in twain by a mask that has become a face.

As the malevolent designs of the world eater loom over Nirn, Skyrim rips itself in twain with Civil War. For Legate Rikke, who shares none of her race's customary hatred all she knows is that the land of her birth runs red with the blood of its children. Can a soldier, with no Nord blood and no Skyrim born heart be the answer that Skyrim and the Legate's solitary heart require?

Lydia of Whiterun dreamed of greatness, adventure and service to a worthy master. Instead she was given to an Altmer/Redguard halfbreed, whom the gods were cruel enough to bless as Dragonborn. Yet there is something about this reluctant hero that will change how one Nord housecarl views herself and the world. Something stronger than prejudice or fear.

The first taste is the most intense. There is no place in a warrior's heart for love. For Aela the Huntress, moonborn daughter of Whiterun these two adages were everything. Can an outsider offer her more in life than her woods and her hunts? Mara's light will teach the Huntress the true meaning of pack.

In the Vulcan culture, seven is a sacred number. For Michael Burnham it is merely a reminder of her failure to stop the avarice and ambition of the Klingon Empire. ST:D

Hunger is an enemy that knows no boundaries, felling noble and peasant alike. Yet it is not just the nourishment of the body that leaves the flesh and mind weak and lacking. A heart beating for its pair and long denied knows the ravenous pangs of hunger better than the forgetful belly and for the Empress of Orlais the madness of Hunger has clawed at her soul for far too long.

Within the machinations of the Grand Game there is a place for many emotions: hubris, ambition, fury. Yet love is deemed too weak for the dance of deception and manipulation. As the voice of the Inquisition, Josephine Montilyet can not afford to be seen as weak. Yet will she find love's strength within the horn crowned Herald?

A game well played leaves only a fool's reward to the victor. As blood drips crimson roses and Orlais falls, Briala must pay the price of her choice to turn her back on the Lioness. The dread wolf howls in triumph for a soul's ease is no more.

To conquer, to posses, to rule. That was the right of Heda, the terrible burden that Leksa of the Trikru bore upon weary shoulders. That right could not...would not be denied, not even by the Wanheda.

Vaatu recalls the Cycles and revels in a victory millennia in the making.

Her smile could lighten up a room, and could cause thunder in the soul of one that loves her. Within the downpour a lesson is learned...love can be so fair to a select few and so very cruel to all others. The plight of finding completion too late.

At the end of the world when man and demon wear the same skin, is there a force greater than Hatred's cruel embrace? For a spymaster damned in love and in deed she can only hope it is so. Briala of Orlais can only hope the blade of mercy can salvage a love battered yet everlasting.

Love can be as a shining jewel, but like a precious stone it can become clouded and uncertain. What will a thief with a hesitant heart do when such a jewel is placed before her?

From Maferath, came love's betrayal. Yet none speak of the Maker that took his wife or the war that usurped his glory. None speak of the losses one must endure to protect a greater truth. None remember that Frail Love can not thrive under the weight of leadership. Yet Celene I of Orlais remembers. For it is a lesson etched upon her soul.

Those that have not the strength to trust have not the strength to love.

To what lengths is a shattered soul willing to go to for the sake of love's embrace?

Those that bow before dignity will shatter before love.

Within a fading breath, do the echoes of a deep longing bear fruit?

When all hope is lost, only the the echoes of a broken heart are left behind.

What must one risk to heal the wounds life has wrought?

Sometimes love isn't enough..