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fieldofdaisiies · 2 years ago

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I’m so sorry and I know it says your requests are close so you can ignore this but this is stuck on my mind and I will literally forget about it but I feel like azriel would be the person to adopt because the child reminded of him when he was younger.

Anyway hope you’re having a good day/night whatever time it is for you(timezones suck)

oh I love this thought, I will turn it into headcanons. I really don’t want to ignore it, so I hope it is fine that way❤️

it all happens on a visit to Windhaven

when Azriel walks up to the hut of Devlon he will notice a little boy sitting in the mud, one wing crumbled, hanging lifelessly behind his back

he meets Azriel's eyes through a glassy gaze and when Azriel walks up to him he starts crying Azriel's heart breaks and he reaches his hand out. "Hello, buddy. I am Azriel, let's get you inside, you freezing out here."

Azriel picks up the little boy, he must only be three to four years old and Azriel's heart break when the little boy immediately snuggles to into his chest, fisting his Illyrian leathers

instead of Devlon's hut, Azriel opts for Rhysand's mother's old hut

he brings the little boy blankets, and a hot cocoa

when Azriel wants to leave him alone for a little bit, but the little boy grabs his scarred hand and holds onto it

Azriel stays with him, preparing a little meal for the boy so he can it

only later he finds out that the boy is an orphan, he does not know his father and his mother died due to an illness

the little boy is all alone and this nearly destroys Azriel because he knows what being alone feels like

when Azriel leaves in the evening he tells one of the laundry women to take care of the boy for the night and he will return in the morning

at home he discusses it all with you, saying he would like to adopt

your hesitate for a moment, but then the answer is actually clear

YES

and so the next day you both go to Windhaven and Azriel picks up the little boy whose name is Barrian

he introduces him to you and you immediately see so much of Azriel in him even though they are not related

Devlon needs no convincing to let the two of you adopt the little boy, as long as he joins the war camp once he is old enough

for now you agree

and obviously you ask the little boy if he wants that and if he wants to move to Velaris with you

he does, obviously and smiles for the first time

and so a completely new life, one no one out. of the three of you could have imagined just two days before

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar x reader #azriel headcanon

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selfproclaimedunicorn · 9 months ago

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No Fragile Thing

Wrote a thing from Aldreda's backstory because I guess part of my hiatus involves her grabbing me by the throat & saying "We are about me now. Figure it out." So there's no Aldricent, but hey! Peak into part of why she is the way she is! Aldreda Tag | AO3 Series

The great hall of Lonely Light was vast, it had to be since anyone who came would be staying for months to make the trip worth it. Its stone walls were painted with scenes of the sea; krakens rising up from the waves and bare-breasted seal women with their mouths open in silent songs. Long wooden columns, carved with swirling knots and longships and the dour face of the Drowned God, were spaced evenly throughout the round chamber, holding up the ceiling of intricately laid wooden beams. A large open fireplace took up most of the center of the room, with long tables surrounding it all the way to the dais where The Farwynd sat at the high seat, presiding over his court with all the authority of the High King of the Iron Islands. With how isolated the main branch of House Farwynd was, he might as well have been.

Aldreda swallowed as she peered out from the archway, half hiding herself at the landing of the stairs that led down from the bridge between the smaller, residential tower of the castle where her rooms lay and the main tower that held the court and, at the very top, the flaming beacon that served the longships that ventured so far out into the Sunset Sea. She so rarely asked The Farwynd for anything, and it was only the bone deep need of it now that saw her doing as much. When she stepped out from the archway and onto the worn, wooden floor of the great hall, it felt like her footfalls landed harder than was possible. The walk to the high seat had never felt so long. Without Orwen there to make her be “just his younger sister” so many men’s eyes on her felt wrong. Everything felt wrong without her favorite brother. Siren’s tits, it felt wrong without any of the older ones! The absence of eight men and one who nearly had been made the great hall feel haunted.

The Farwynd was all graying hair and great, braided beard that hung down to the center of his chest. He was silent as he looked down at her from the dais, a raised eyebrow the only indication he expected anything. In the plain, cushionless, seat beside their sire, Trystifer shifted uncomfortably. His feet did not quite touch the floor and the place where Euron, and then Barrian, and then Corwen had filled so comfortably swallowed the boy of ten.

“I want to raid.”

The men in the hall were who started it, laughing like Aldreda had told some great jest just to entertain them. Trystifer joined them, eager to be seen as a man grown now that he was The Farwynd’s heir. Aldreda’s cheeks grew hot, and she balled her hands into fists at her sides. She wanted to bite and claw at whichever of the men at arms had started the laughter. Drawing blood would make them take her seriously. For his part in all of it, her sire did nothing but look at her with an appraising eye.

When he finally spoke there was an air of passive judgment to her sire’s deep, almost scratchy brogue. “Is that why you parade yourself around in such a state?”

She wanted to reach up and run her fingers through the ends of her newly cropped hair. Her head felt so light now, and her back was unexpectedly cold. When Lady Melusine came into her room last night, she had burst into hysterics when she caught her daughter cutting her hair to her shoulders. After Aldreda had explained herself, she had calmed and helped her to make sure the cut was at least even; that did not mean she liked it, though. Still, it would appear Lady Melusine hadn’t said a word of it to The Farwynd. Or, if she did, he had simply forgotten.

“I wanted it this way.” She squared her shoulders even as she struggled to meet his eyes, even as the lifeless bodies of all her dead brothers balked at her from her memories and imaginings. It was like they rose up from the sea to stare at her, judging for her half-lie with the seal eyes they had all inherited from the man who sat before her.

“Will a husband, I wonder.” It was a statement more than a question, and it bit into Aldreda’s chest with the intent to take a hunk of meat.

“I don’t care what a man thinks of me,” at least not one who intended to bed her, “I want to raid.”

“A girl of three and ten will not replace twenty good men.” The Farwynd leaned forward in his chair, right arm sliding forward till his hand hung past the carved seal’s head it had been resting on previously. So she was a woman when he wanted to send her away, and a girl when she wanted to raid, then? Either way, she was not as wanted as a son.

“Did Orwen fill your head with enough glory stories that you thought you could?”

Her favorite brother's jovial laughter mixed with The Farwynd’s dismissive judgment, with the claps of thunder from the storm that took him, with the barks of the harbor seal she decided was him when she went down to their rookery after word of the longship's sinking came. It made Orwen sound otherworldly and cruel, like his ghost was agreeing with the voice of their sire in her mind when he told Aldreda that she could not replace the three sons he just lost.

Her fists curled even tighter, short nails digging into her palms. Would they pierce her skin if they were longer? Would that be better? Would her own blood prove her worth, or would it be another reason to call her useless and dismiss her like some fragile little girl and not the only living child by The Farwynd and his rock wife? Born and bred of iron and salt and stone to carve through the waves and to reave, to fill the gaps left by eight dead men and two who would have been.

“I can fight, and I can sail. Orwen made sure of it!”

The Farwynd snorted dismissively, and leaned back in the high seat. Aldreda curled her lip, and her thin brows furrowed over black eyes that were stormy as the churning Sunset Sea had been those three nights. She jerked her head back, pointing at her younger salt brother with her chin. “I’m better than him.”

Trystifer slid himself out of the heir’s seat with such force it looked like he jumped onto his feet, and his hands were fists just like hers. He stamped his foot as he glowered down at her from his spot on the dais overlooking the hall. “No you aren’t!”

The Farwynd slammed his fist on the arm of the high seat, making Trystifer and all the men in the hall straighten with attention. “Conduct yourself with some dignity, boy! You are my heir, fucking act like it.”

“Yes, Lord Alfric.” Trystifer was stiff and his cheeks were pink. Even though he faced forward, his eyes were on his feet. The boy's deference only earned him a dismissive snort and an eye roll, however.

“Lord Alfric. You spend too much time with Mayra.”

Of course he spent time with his mother. He was a boy, and he had only been made to work on a longship three years ago.

“Who's ship are you serving on, boy?”

“Sylas Goodbrother.”

“That is who you should be spending time with. It'll put some hair on your chest and have you addressing me in the old way. The proper way.”

“And what about me?” She spoke louder now, to draw his criticism away from Trystifer. That was her little brother, regardless of how Lady Melusine talked about the salt wives.

“You’re still on that?”

“You lost good men, and I can replace them. They need to be, and I’ll fight anyone in this hall to prove I am good enough!” She could be better than them, if she wanted to be. Not just the men at arms who drowned with Corren and Orwen and Randar, but her older brothers too. All of them.

“Even if you bested some ship boy or barely blooded whelp, no one would take you.”

“I would.”

Aldreda followed her sire’s gaze to where her cousin stood. Westley had taken a step away from the long table where the men under his command paused in their sitting back down after The Farwynd’s commanding of attention. At eight and ten, he had not won much glory, but as the oldest son of The Farwynd’s rock brother he received enough favor to captain his own longship. He was also their cousin closest to Orwen, and a man he had told Aldreda to be more wary of than she wanted to be. It was a stupid warning. Her brother would not be friends with someone who prompted caution.

“Forgive me, Lord Reaver, if I spoke out of turn,” Westley took another step forward and dipped shallowly at the waist, “but it would be wrong of me to not look out for Orwen’s sister.”

“You want her?”

Westley’s eyes strayed from The Farwynd, to her. It was only for a moment, but it was long enough for Aldreda to see his charming, roguish smile was for her. “I do. I have seen how Orwen taught her, she's not beyond use. With a little work, I think Aldreda could make a fine raider.”

“Work you are willing to put in, of course.”

“Of course.”

The Farwynd looked over them both, his gaze hard and unreadable. Aldreda dug her nails further into the meat of her palms; it stung something fierce, but it was better than fidgeting or breaking eye contact with her sire. Either of those would sway him further from seeing her as worthy of the acknowledgment he gave his ten dead sons, perfect and saintly in the Drowned God’s halls where they were only memories and imaginings who could not disappoint him.

After what felt like an eternity, he relaxed back into the high seat and waved them both off. “Do what you wish. You have three years with her, and if she does not prove as fine a raider as you claim she could be I am sending her off to The Boatly. His rock wife died a year ago, he could do with a replacement, and he will not care if the new one could give him sons since he already has them.”

Aldreda inhaled sharply, and her eyes widened with indignation. Aldreda was not her mother. And even so, Lady Melusine said that it was not her fault that her husband sought the comfort of his salt wives after Ronas died, it was not her fault their second child was a daughter that saw him retreating from her without return. Westley took her by the bicep before she could even think about what it was she wanted to do. She would not do it, whatever it was; to injure The Farwynd was to injure Lonely Light itself.

“You will not be disappointed, Uncle Alfric.”

He said nothing, and just waved them off again. Aldreda heard Westley sigh through his nose, and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. The longer black hair at the top of his head fell into his eyes; they looked tired, and they were lighter than hers, grayer and warmer than the near pitch black of all of The Farwynd’s children. Did Westley want softer words and an acknowledgement of effort as well? Was that what was keeping him at Lonely Light instead of returning to Sealskin Point now that he was a man grown with some two years of adulthood under his belt? He looked back up, his attention solely on her now. “Come on, Aldreda. We’ve a lot to do in three years.” Westley squeezed her arm, and it was almost like Orwen. He let go of her, and then gave another shallow bow to The Farwynd before turning on his heel and strutting across the great hall towards doors to the main yard. Aldreda followed his lead, bowing before turning and running off after her cousin.

#my writing #oc: aldreda farwynd #hotd oc #(alfric & westley farwynd I am in your walls)#asoiaf oc #fyeahhotdocs #fyeahgotocs #afahsl drabbles

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jelzorz · 8 months ago

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163d.

163a+b+c

"So what's the story, then?" asks Soren.

It is early, as always, and the tea is getting low, which means it's almost time for them both to set off and go their separate ways for the day. Opeli already misses it--the silence, the safety, the proximity to him that she won't allow herself until before sunrise again tomorrow. These meetings are growing too short and too far in between, even if they're happening daily now, and even she is getting wary of the way she has grown so attached to them.

"The story of what?"

Soren nods at her, and then at the window, swilling the last of his tea around the bottom of his mug. "Why do you head out so early every morning? Is it a High Cleric thing?"

Opeli smirks at him. "It's abysmal that you don't know your own mythology."

"Technically, I'm half Del Barrian."

"You don't know any Del Barrian mythology either."

Soren snorts at her, rolling his eyes affectionately and daring to nudge her elbow with his. Opeli lets herself chuckle at the playfulness of it, trying not to think about how little it is, and also of how much. These little touches, the warmth in his eyes, the laughter that slips from her--these are not allowed after sunrise. Once they've left the kitchens, they are Captain and High Cleric again, and these are... questionable at best, and forbidden at their very worst. Still, she sips her tea, deliberately leaving the final bitter dregs in the bottom of her mug in an attempt to draw out the darkness before dawn.

"It's just an old tradition," she tells him. "You know the story: that Justice has four sisters, but that she alone passes judgement, and that she must be alone to be fair. Some sources say she was a woman before she was ever a goddess, but she is blind in every iteration, and the Sun is always her companion and her friend in the dark. Even when he sets, he lights her torches, his gift to her to ward off the cold when he is needed to light other lands. In exchange, Justice stays, and Justice waits, her faith in his return never wavering or lost."

"What's that got to do with you walking to Temple Hill every morning?"

Opeli chuckles and touches his arm. The leather of his bracer is cool under he fingers and she tries not to think about the warmth beneath it. "As High Cleric, and as the representative for Lady Justice herself, I meet the Sun in her place."

Soren lets our an "Oooh," of understanding that makes her roll her eyes. "I mean that's cool," he says, "but don't you get lonely? That walk in the dark every morning by yourself?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Opeli tells him. "The sun rises. The city wakes. It's beautiful from up there."

"But the other clerics don't join you?"

"They can't." Opeli smiles a little ruefully down at her cup. "They are representatives for other virtues. Only Justice meets the Sun."

Soren hums thoughtfully. "What about me?" he asks after a moment. "Can I join you?"

She blinks at him. "I go alone, Soren, I thought we established this."

"No," says Soren insistently, playfully, like there's a loop hole here to be exploited that she hasn't yet seen. "You said that the other clerics can't join you because they stand for the other virtues and that Justice has to be alone, but even she lets herself hang out with the Sun."

Opeli blinks again. Then she laughs at his absurdity, his hubris. "Are you calling yourself the Sun?"

"Why not?" he says. "I meet you every morning already."

"That comes awfully close to hubris, don't you think?"

He shrugs. "The sun's not our god. Can't be hubris if we don't even worship him."

There is a pause. Opeli blinks at him and comes to the realization too late that he is being entirely serious, and that he is... also entirely correct. She is, officially, a stand in for Lady Justice, and she met him every morning for weeks now before she has even greeted the sun. Does his smile not warm her just the same? Does her face not burn when his skin brushes hers? Do they not part afterwards only to meet again at dawn the next day?

Soren smirks knowingly at her and nudges her elbow. "So can I walk with you this morning then?"

Opeli barks out a laugh. "Yes," she says after a moment, her smile wider than it should be at the concept.

He blinks, his own grin growing wider. "Really?"

"Yes," says Opeli again. "You're right. Even Justice allows herself the company of the Sun. I don't think anyone can argue with you about that."

#sorpeli #in anticipation #lady justice and the sun #one day ill put this set up on ao3 #watch me make up an entire mythology and religion just for Them

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madame-mongoose · 1 year ago

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Does barrian have any other clothes?

Nah. The robes are like??? Kinda his body??? There's not actually really anything underneath em. Just hot air and dense gasses. Kinda hard to change clothes and have your form not dissipate

#plus he doesn't really need to change anyway #not being organic and all #the librarian #oc stuff #monnie answers

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dreaminginmysoup · 1 year ago

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Wow queer people real!!! Happy Birthday to all gay people!!!

suggestions courtesy of @trans-metalsonic @lunalycana @theultimatemercenary69 (nice) @squidthechaotickid @sagethegremlin @metalikkblog @limon-florcempoalli @khalewren and my bestie @lunapegasus

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cosmicellis · 1 year ago

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My homie challanged me with Yuma in Character ask game. The ultimate ADHD child

My first impression of them -That he was one weird looking boi even by yu-gi-oh standarts. Not to mention, at first he gave me strong “lol randumb” energy

When I think I truly started to like them -Through the seson progression the antics and very lively attitude kinda got to me. Plus I do dig characters with positive attitude and being a bit... dim XD

A song that reminds me of them - Fall Out Boy - The Last Of The Real Ones

How many people I ship them with -Canon: Astral, Mist... sometimes Shark -OC... Machi >u>

My favorite ship of them -I like Keyshipping, but I’m weak for Tentacle\lockship even if I can never make it healthy :v I like keyshipping because it feels like had the most development and it feels like these worked out their relationship from hating each other to sacrificing their faces for each other Lockship... Sometimes my inner sadist is whispering: yeee, make everyone suffer in this relationship, dew it

My least favorite ship of them -Skyship. No hate on this ship, nor on Tori, I always had a personal dislike towards “childhood friend” stuff

A quote of them that you remember -Aside from Kattobingu is a very cute “Ye” he did in the manga in a very beggingng, when Tetsuo said :You can also put spells face down

Your favorite outfit of them -His school uniform is a chef kiss

Your least favorite outfit of them -That fancy official one. Not my aesthetic choice...

Describe the character in one sentence -WILD

What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character? -Explosive positivity and hunger...FOR everything

Sexuality hc! -Uh I guess Yuma, as a true golden retriver, loves everyone

Your favorite friendship they have -With Shark. Because only Yuma can annoy somebody enough to become friends with them (Manga including)

Best storyline they had -The plot with him going to Astral world was pretty narly

Worst storyline they had -Barrian onslught. I can only take so much of Yuma crying and being sad

A childhood headcanon -He seemed to be pretty normal, until his dad decided to invite him into a cult of Kattobingu

What do you think their first word was? -I say “mom”, cause it feels like she was around him more when he was smaller (You know, work and all)

How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc) -I believe he was norm, up until certain point. He would like something, loose interest, get sad, get happy, but then... The key happened (when his dad gave it to him) and he decided to exclude “giving up” out of his vocabulary

The most random ship you've seen people have with them -You can’t surprise me. He was shipped with everyone under the sun

A weird headcanon -Yuma can cook pretty good, he’s just lazy

When do you think they were at their happiest? -I feel like when he reunited with Astral.

When do you think they were at their lowest? -Uh yes, 3 episodes of depression when Astral died

Future headcanon -He will become a Duel champion, but then quit, because of constantly changing meta and the fact that you can’t play your favorite deck forever. Power creeping and exploits would be just an end of fun

What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone? -That in the beggning he felt lonely, even with friends around (But then Astral canceled his personal space and Me time)

When do you think they acted the most ooc -Yuma is a wild-child. Whatever he does can be explained with “He felt that way” cause that’s how he operates. He just feels that he had to do it... das it solid logic

When do you think they were being "themselves" the most? -When he was trying to save vector from Don Thousand. Cause he clings to his friends like a gum to hair

If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet? -I’ll be boring here and say Yusei

The most unnecessary thing they ever did? -Trusting Vector. I know Yuma trust people like Tokonoske, but with Victor it felt bit much, but that’s my perspective

How do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?) -Probably would try mimicking his dad

The funniest scene they had? -There are too many. But the one I like is where he has conversation with Astral about takoyaki and it perfectly represents how my two last braincells work. Source: https://www.tumblr.com/ask-games-from-a-weird-girl/673569359300640768/character-ask-game

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