#Glimmer is her protective older(by a day) sister

[gexfan32]

xenoblade fanfic idea

what if, Xenoblade 3 post canon fic, by half of it is about how different major players from Aionios are in their home worlds, and the other half is a Nopon spy thriller

[suuuupernovaaa]

nìfnu

nìfnu [nɪ.ˈfnu] adv. silently

Anonymous Request: Can I have a story where it’s Ao’nung x Metkayina Reader who’s deaf and a sweetheart. When the Sullys arrive she doesn’t really interact with them so when they see Ao’nung being kind and protective towards her it they feel confused? Just pure fluff.

Lo'ak leans over and nudges his older sister, Kiri, forcefully on the arm.

"Ouch!" she yelps. "What, Lo'ak?"

He points, and she follows the line from his finger. It leads her eyes to Ao'nung, just a few paces down the beach from them, and he's with a Metkayina girl that Kiri doesn't recognize. She's tall, nearly as tall as Ao'nung, with her long hair pulled back into one large, thick braid. She wears a thin, shiny net over her shoulders, and Kiri notes how pretty it is. It glimmers in the sun. Kiri also notes how, even though Ao'nung and this girl are above walker, they are using the hand-speak to communicate.

"That girl. Neteyam tried to talk to her earlier, but she ignored him. And there she is, being so nice to Ao'nung. Who's an asshole."

Kiri elbows her sibling. "To you, he is. He looks like he's being perfectly friendly to that girl. And, I mean, she's very pretty."

"Why are they using the hand speak? They're not in the water."

Kiri shrugs. "How should I know? Stop elbowing me when you want something, Lo'ak. It hurts."

He groans and rolls his eyes, and turns his attention back to Ao'nung and the girl who rejected Neteyam.

--

"How are they adjusting?" I sign to Ao'nung, who shrugs and rolls his eyes. It's no secret that he resents having to teach the newcomers their ways, but I think it's nice. Ao'nung needs to humble himself sometimes, be more like his kind little sister.

"They are slow," Ao'nung signs in return. "I don't want to teach them. It's a waste of my time."

I reach out, pushing on his arm a little. "They seem sweet to me, especially the little one. Try to have patience with them. I would offer to help, but they don't know how to talk to me."

"Yet," he replies, and I smile.

"Yet."

--

Neteyam asks Tsireya about the girl, Y/N, the next day. He's noticed that she only uses hand-speak as well, and wonders.

"She can't hear," Tsireya says. "She's only spoken that way her whole life."

Neteyam could smack himself. He'd taken her silence as harsh rejection, when really, she just wasn't able to respond to him.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "She's, uh, really beautiful."

Tsireya laughs and smiles. "She is, but I wouldn't trouble yourself. Ao'nung has been in love with her for years." She throws a glance to her brother over her shoulder, but he's too busy making fun of Lo'ak to hear.

"Ao'nung?" Neteyam replies hardly, and Tsireya laughs even harder.

"I know. He has a soft spot for her, and her for him. If you want to compete, you'll have to learn hand-speak."

Neteyam shakes his head. She's beautiful, but not worth getting in a fight with the chief's son over. He'll just have to admire her from afar.

--

Though I can't speak, I am very proficient in reading lips. This helps me observe conversations from far away; as long as I have a clear view of someone's face, I can usually figure out what they're saying.

"Ao'nung has been in love with her for years."

That's what Tsireya said, and though she was smiling, it didn't seem as if she was joking. I dropped the plate of fruit I was carrying when she said it.

Is it true? Has Ao'nung been in love with me, and I haven't noticed?

Fruit is scattered all around my feet, and I bend over to begin gathering it again, every interaction I've had with Ao'nung recently playing over in my mind. If Tsireya is right, maybe I have been blind.

Ao'nung has always been kind, and patient and gentle with me. I knew he wasn't like that with many people, but I thought it was most likely out of pity for my condition - not out of love of affection.

A hand reaches out, picking up fruit and dropping it into my basket, and I look up to see Ao'nung himself.

Feeling flustered, I stand up, kicking the fruit basket once again, undoing all my work.

"Are you okay?" Ao'nung signs. I tuck my hair behind my ears, feeling a little speechless. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Tsireya," I sign, "she told the new boy, the oldest one, that you are in love with me. Is she just teasing him, because he thinks I'm pretty?"

"He said he thinks you're pretty?" Ao'nung signs back, quickly and furiously, glancing over his shoulder at where his sister still sits with the newcomers.

I shove his shoulder. "Yes! Answer my question."

"Well... come with me." Ao'nung reaches out, grabbing my hand and therefore silencing me, and pulls me away from the beach. We move through many huts, past the fires, and to the edge of the beach, where the sparse forest and rocks begin. Here, we are alone.

"Ao'nung!" I exclaim, breathless. "What's going on?"

He rubs his forehead. "I had a plan, to tell you. It wasn't going to be like this. I'm going to kill Tsireya."

I stand, silent, waiting for him to finish. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my palms are shaking; I'm not sure I could speak, even if I wanted to.

"For a long time, I have loved you, Y/N. I have tried to be more... understanding, and gentle, the way you deserve. But it's hard for me. I wanted to be better, before I told you. Before I asked you to be my mate."

Unable to control myself, I gasp, and bring my hands up to my mouth.

Me, the mate to the next Olo'eyktan? It's unimaginable.

"Your parents approve the match?" I ask.

Ao'nung smiles at me softly. "Of course. When I told them how much I love you, they couldn't object. They believe you will make a wonderful Tsahik, because you are so kind and understanding. My mother will teach you everything you need to know - if you want."

That thought alone is a little overwhelming, since Ronal can be so intimidating, but I also imagine she can be a good teacher.

And really, that doesn't matter. What matters is the way I feel when I'm with Ao'nung; special, adored, loved, doted upon. I feel safe with Ao'nung. I feel seen and most importantly, heard.

"I would be proud to be your mate, Ao'nung. So proud. Of course, I love you."

The smile that spreads across his face transforms Ao'nung from the sullen, anxious, grouchy man most have come to know him as. It turns him into the carefree, light and happy man he is when the two of us are together.

I am proud to make him smile like that. I promise myself then, to make him smile like that every day, for the rest of our lives.

[spxllcxstxr]

Protected • R.S

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi!! Can I request a angst/fluff with robb stark & the prompt: I’m going to protect you. Thank you so much :))) — anon

Summary: The aftermath of Ned Stark’s death

Warnings: canon character death sprinkled with a wee bit of canon divergence?, grieving, reader wears a dress and is referred to as wife (no pronouns used)

Word Count: 769 (i'm so sorry for the short length lmao)

A.N: first time writing Robb! i actually really like this ngl, hope you enjoy!

•

“That boy is going to ruin his sword.” Lady Catelyn mutters from beside you, her eyes trained on her eldest son on the edge of the tree line. Her hands fidget with the end of her braid.

Your own eyes gaze out to see your betrothed, hacking away at a tree stump, his grunts echoing throughout the silent camp.

News of Ned Stark’s horrid death spread through the camp quickly only hours prior, and the men had hid in their tents to mourn the Lord of Winterfell. It was a gloomy day, appropriately reflecting the mood of the solemn North. The clouds were heavy and grey, the air still smelling of the earlier rain.

Sighing, you watch Robb hit anything within arms reach. His moves are erratic, it's obvious even from this distance. Your teeth tease your bottom lip uneasily.

“I should go to him…” Lady Catelyn sighs, her lips tilted down into a frown.

Your hand rests on her shoulder, stopping the older woman from moving. “My Lady, you just lost your husband…go grieve. I will talk to Robb.”

Lady Catelyn nods, her eyes vacant as she turns towards her own tent. You watch her leave, making sure she gets to her destination safely before trudging through the mud to your betrothed.

The mud clings to your nice shoes, and at this point you don’t bother hiking your skirts up to avoid the filth below you. Your eyes stay trained on Robb, his forceful movement never ceasing.

A few feet away from him, you hear his grunts of anguish and frustration, his tunic dotted with sweat. You let his take one more swing at the rotting stump before you cough to gain his attention.

“Robb, I think that is enough…”

Robb freezes before slowly turning to face you. His auburn curls untamed and his blue eyes burning brighter with rage. You’ve never seen him like this at all, not when he first heard his father was taken prisoner in King’s Landing, nor when he discovered that someone had sent assassins to kill Bran. Your eyes widen at the state of your betrothed, fidgeting in place. He pants heavily as he looks at you.

“I’ll kill them! I swear to every god out there, I will kill the Lannisters for what they have done!” Robb seethes, his face red with anger. “It is only what those murderous pricks deserve.”

He flings his sword down, taking deep ragged breaths. You don’t flinch at his uncharacteristic anger, instead you inch closer to your betrothed.

All at once, as if the adrenaline drains out of him, Robb falls to his knees, his blue eyes trained on the mud beneath your feet as they glimmer with tears.

You drop down with him, taking his head in your hands, leaning your forehead against your lover’s.

“Oh darling…” You whisper, watching the grief take over his features. Your heart breaks seeing him so vulnerable.

“My father is dead,” He sobs, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. “They have to pay for what they have done.”

“They will, Robb, they will suffer for their cruelty towards the North," You tell him softly, lifting your head to place a delicate kiss on his forehead.

Robb glances up as well, his tears subsiding. “And I will protect you, my dearest. No Lannister will ever harm you,” There is a quick burst of fire behind those usually cool eyes. “they would not dare.”

“Robb—“ Your fingertips brush over his stubble.

“They have taken my sisters hostage and they have killed my father, but they will not take my wife from me.”

Heat creeps up your neck at his passionate words. You and Robb had not yet been wed but hearing his call you his wife causes you to shiver.

“I swear it to you, my love,” Robb continues, taking your hands in his rough hands, squeezing them tightly between your two closely crouched bodies. “They will not touch you.”

“I believe you, darling, I do.” You reply lightly, squeezing back, attempting to convey how much trust and love you’re filled with for him.

The sky seems to lighten, clouds parting ever so slightly to let the sun peek through enough to shine down on your camp. The moist air of the Riverlands clings onto your skin as the few rays of sun beats down on your exposed skin making your position unbearable.

Wordlessly, you and Robb rise, chins up despite the situation that just occurred. Your hands hold onto his arm as the two of you, side by side, walk back into the center of camp, ready for war.

•

[tsunami-of-tears]

Iris

Azriel x Rhys’s Sister Reader

Summary: Reader has been struggling with her inner demons ever since her brother went Under The Mountain.

A/N: This is really dark. Please, please read the warnings before clicking read more.

To preface: I’m okay, just tired and was pre-menstrual when I started this. I haven’t been in this dark of a place in a very long time, but I wanted to write this for 15-year-old Shelby who thought no one saw her. I haven’t talked about my history of self-harm much and it’s hard to reopen those wounds, but it’s therapeutic. 

If anyone is struggling, my inbox is always open. I’ve also included a few resources at the end of this fic.

Wordcount: 1.2K

Warnings: ANGST!!; major depression; disordered eating (binging); graphic self-harm; Rhys UTM

Reader

Things were bad. 

Really bad.

You had completely withdrawn from your family in the months since Rhys had gone Under The Mountain. 

Rhys - your idiot older brother - had sacrificed himself to protect you and your people; leaving you in charge of his court. 

Ruling had always come easy to him, he was born to do it whereas you struggled to switch between the required masks.

These days, the only mask you wore was one of cold indifference. 

As the shield fell into place around Velaris, trapping you inside, a wall of adamant rose around you, keeping everyone around from seeing the war raging inside your mind. 

Most of your time was spent in your bedroom with the curtains drawn, unable to look at the sleeping city below your window. 

Velaris, the city of Starlight, had lost its sparkle. 

The first week after Rhys left, not a single light could be seen. The once lustrous city had gone into mourning. The Sidra, usually glimmering like liquid night, now reflected only the deepest black. 

You only dared to leave your room during the night when you were less likely to be spotted, not wanting anyone to see the ghost you’d become.

You float down the stone hallway, robes billowing as you walk to the kitchen. 

You’d taken to eating late at night. Food, usually sweets, was the only comfort you could find.

You’re rummaging in the larder when you feel a familiar sensation around your bare ankles, the cold shadow wisping over your skin.

“Y/N,” you hear a deep voice say behind you. 

You turn, blocks of chocolate in hand, to face the one person you love more than your brother. 

“Azriel,” you reply, taking in his appearance. 

He looked terrible.

His hair was dishevelled, his jet-black curls in dire need of a comb, and his once warm hazel eyes were dull and bloodshot. Beneath them were deep violet bruises, clearly he wasn’t sleeping much. 

You can feel his gaze on you, and wonder what he thought of the shadow of life you’d become. 

You watch his nostrils flare. “Y/N, are you hurt? I can smell blood.”

You feign a laugh, “I’m on my cycle.” You hold up the chocolate as evidence. “Cravings.” 

Azriel narrows his eyes but doesn’t push you. “I… We miss you,” he says.

You turn away from him, unable to voice how broken you feel. 

“Please, I can’t lose you too,” he pleads. 

“Goodnight Azriel,” you whisper, slipping out the door into the dark hallway. 

Neither Azriel nor his shadows follow you. 

————

You step out of the shower and stand in front of the bathroom mirror, scrutinising your reflection. 

You pinch at the skin on your hips and stomach, scowling at the growing curves, before turning to the side to inspect your full breasts and butt. 

Facing forward again, your eyes fall upon the ladders of scars across your thighs and forearms. 

Angry red and purple lines jutting between faint silver. 

You started again after losing Rhys. You hadn’t done it since losing your mother. It was the only way you knew to reflect your inner turmoil. 

The day your mother was killed, you were meant to be with her. You should’ve been taken too. 

Rhys had helped you out of the pit of despair that time, but he was no longer here. Once again, you were saved while your loved ones were not. 

You towel off your skin before sitting down at your vanity. You pull out an ornate jewellery box and retrieve the ash dagger stashed inside. 

You weren’t sure why you harmed yourself. There was a part of you that felt you deserved it, that thought you were a wretch for allowing your brother to endure all that torment for you. Then there was a part that just wanted to feel something other than the numbness that ached to your core. 

You press the dagger against your skin. Not even the sting of the blade made you cry anymore. Your tears had long since dried up. 

With each slice, your self-hatred rings in your ears. 

Stupid – cut. 

Useless – cut. 

Waste of space – cut. 

You set the bloodied dagger down on the counter, feeling nothing but apathy. 

Morning starts to creep in when you finally make it to bed. As you lay there, staring at the ceiling, the little voice inside your head sneers at you. 

This was the life your brother sacrificed his for? Pathetic. 

————

Azriel

If Velaris has become a ghost town, the House of Wind was its crypt – haunted by devastation and grief.

Azriel leaned against the balcony railing, looking out on the once-shining city. 

How did it all go so wrong?

Not a day had gone by where he didn’t blame himself for everything. For Rhys. For Y/N.

Y/N. He could see the pain in her eyes. She tried to hide it, but Azriel knew better. He’d always been the one who could see through her masks. 

Azriel is pulled from his thoughts by his shadows, swarming around him in distress. 

“Y/N. Kitchen. Now.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Azriel tells them. 

“She’s hurt.”

Azriel winnows into the hallway, allowing his footsteps to be heard outside the door. He turns into the room and spots Y/N searching through the freezer. 

She slams it shut, jumping as she turns towards Azriel. 

“Oh, I didn’t realise you were here,” she says. “We’re out of ice cream.” Y/N tries to step around Azriel but he blocks her path with his wing. He looks her over, not able to see anything visibly wrong. 

“I’ll get you some more, just please come to dinner,” Azriel pleads. “Or we can go flying together, anything you want. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

Y/N shakes her head, looking at the floor.  

“He wouldn’t want you hiding away like this,” Azriel says.

“I don’t care what he would want. He obviously can’t think clearly or else he wouldn’t have left,” she seethes, pushing past Azriel. 

Azriel grabs her by the wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “Please Y/N, you’ve…” he trails off, feeling something lumpy under her sleeve. “What is that?” 

Y/N tries to yank her arm back but Azriel’s grip is firm. 

“Let me see,” Azriel says quietly. Tears start to fall from her eyes as he gently lifts her sleeve, revealing the bloodied bandages. “Oh darling, what happened?” 

Y/N just shakes her head.

“Can I have a look?” he asks.

She bites down on her trembling lip, tears flowing freely

Azriel carefully unwinds the bandages revealing the stark, straight lines. His chest aches for her; as if the scars were etched into his heart.

Azriel always cared deeply for Y/N, offering her a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on whenever she needed it. A small part of him felt hurt that she hadn’t confided in him. 

He swallowed his pain, it didn’t matter. He was here now.

“Come here,” Azriel wraps his arms around her, stroking Y/N’s hair softly as she sobs in his arms. 

Azriel knew she was struggling, everyone could see it. But no one realised just how much losing Rhys broke her.

Azriel curses himself. 

He should’ve known. After her parents, Rhys was all she had. 

No that’s not true - she had Cassian. And Mor. And Amren… 

And him. 

And he wasn’t letting her go.

Mental Health Resources*:  If you’re in immediate danger please call your country’s emergency number. Australia: Beyond Blue: https://www.beyondblue.org.au/ Mental Health Hotline: 1800 011 511 Lifeline: 13 11 14 USA:  Crisis Line (call or text): 988 UK:  Lifeline: 0808 808 8000 *If I have gotten anything wrong or if you have other resources to add, please let me know

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (V)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 2,323

CW: maniplation and bullying, toxic relationships, stalking, obssession, not beta read

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n we get to see some of aemonds perspective and lets jsut say hes a 'little' mad and obssessed with Aemma

“My Lady strong” Aemond mumbled, taking her hand in his arm as they walked into the great hall. It had been four years since the event of her ninth name day, and since then her and Aemonds relationship had become more and more turbulent. 

“Aemond!” she grumbled, walking forward, a smile plastered on her face as they entered the feast held to celebrate their bethrothal. 

She had officially become a woman in the eyes of the court and the gods. Her moons blood having arived four moons prior, allowing plenty of time for Alicent to prepare her for her wedding to Aemond, a duty her mother should have performed. But her mother scarcely came to red keep, her favorite child and only daughter had quickly become forgotten over the five years since driftmark. 

Though the past four years had been spent with sneers and loathing glares, atleast on Aemmas end, between her and Aemond. These past four years had been some of her favoruite. 

She had quickly become a favoruite at court, with lords and ladies throwing themselves (literally in some cases) at her, to get a glimmer of her attention. It seemed that the second her and Aemonds obsession with eachother ended (as far as Aemma was concerned, though Aemond still stalked her and obsessed over every detail of her, just now in secret). 

She had her beloved ladies. Girls from throughout westros, handpicked by Alicent and her mother (a very rare event and scary event, that she knew they both had loathed, and she loathed the thought of the two people that hate eachother to such a large event that the court had even taken sides, just to find her freinds) to be her closest friends and her confidant. 

There was five of them in total, Cassandra Baratheon, her dearest friend and fellow hater of Aemond, Rosia Tyrell, the youngest of them at ten and one namedays,  having replaced Yara Reed, after she was sent to bear island for her marriage to lord Rickon Mormont, then there was Cerelle Lannister, Jason lannister. Maergret Fossway, and Cersci Costayne. 

They had been her ladies for four years now, though she knew soon enough they would all have to leave, they would be married off and scattered throught westoros, and she would have new handpicked friends coming and going every few years. But she still adored them, though her and Cersci had a turbulent relationship, these girls were her sisters and she dreaded to think of life without them. Life without their daily tea and gossip, or their walks through the gardens, their days without tormenting Aemond with petty pranks. Yara had been older than them all, being seven and ten namedays already, and she being three and ten would be the youngest, and once wed would arrange all their marriages herself and be able to let them go when she felt they were ready, and not as soon as possible to help appease a waring family.

“Aemma!” Aemond sneered, they had reached the high table already, “stop daydreaming!” gods, he was annoying.

Patting down her dress and they moved to sit, she spoke “can you for once not be so cruel, we are too wed in seven days, lest us be civil” she spoke, her smile still pastered, a fasle calm to all onlookers.

But to Aemond he could tell she was worried, the pranks she would play on him had stopped, the teas and walks with her annoying ladies had halted, and she now spent most of her time in her room or the library.

Since her moon's blood, She was scared, and he had been making her scared, for years, and now they were actually getting married he could tell she was scared, of what, he wasnt sure.

He had been cruel and taken his pain out on her when she was innocent. A mistake he can never take back. And yet he had no remorse for it, as he would torment her, calling her lady strong, whispering bastard in her ear in the guise of sweet nothings. He would deliver dead pink Hydrid tea flowers (also known as Aemmas Rose), with their heads cut off in her room. Shredding what was once their favorite books, and leaving the remanst scattered in her spot in the library. He had taken over every corner she had once seen as hers.

“Hmm” he sighed “fine, prephas…on one condition” he spoke, seeing the fake loathing she loved to look at him with turn to…hope?

“What? You get to pluck out one of my eyes? Or no, I must pluck out my little brother's eye? Oh wait that is your right, an eye for an eye, something i agreed with in case you have forgotten, which if the last five years have been worth anything then you have-”

“Aemma” he shushed her, “gods, i do not want your eye, and yes i may have forgotten that you had taken my side once you found out what had happened, but that does not change that you” he whispered the next part, moving closer “are your whore of a mothers bastrad”

She flinched “that is not somehthing i can control, and you know that, so you can't fault me or hate me for it, espcially when in seven short days i will be your wife”

“Gods, I know that, I do, but everytime i look at you and i see your wretched brothers.”

“You think i dont know that, me and my brothers never gor along, do you not remember their ‘pranks’, such as the black cells? You remeber that don’t you? Rememebr how you wouldn’t rest until i was found, and when you did you were the only one who could sooth me, you were the only one who could get me to sleep. What happen to us Aemond, why did you turn to hate, when all i hver gave you was love. I understand we had somesort of obsession with one another but if it was really that bad then why did you not tell me, instead of hiding behind your pitiful excuses. We could have had a great love Aemond, and instead you made me hate you, so what what is this one conditon you desire, because i can assure you i'll do it, but it does not mean i will stop hating you, and i doubt it will stop you from hating me” she spoke these words, with a cold smile, looking out onto the feast, a fake look of happiness, as if they were the perfect couple, the couple she knew they could have been.

He remained silent, looking down at the table before standing and rezching his hand out “would you like to dance?”

She was shocked, not once in his life had Aemond asked her to dance, he despised it, would do everything to avoid the act, so the shock on her face wqas hard to disguise, as she nodded her head and accepted the outstretched hand. 

“You hate dancing” she mubled, as his hand descended to her waist, their hands outstretched.

“ i do” he nodded, before pulling her closes, and sniffing her hair. 

Gods if only she knew, knew that he only did those things so that he was always on her mind, as she was on his. “ and yet its the only way i can get this lcose to you before we are wed.”

She jolted back, not enough to worry onlookers, but enough to cause Aemond huff, and pull her even closer.

“What?!” she hissed “ you hate me?!”

“I never said that” he spoke truthfully.

She huffed “no, but it was heavily inplised” she sneered, “what were all of those-thoose…you were a bully for all thoose years, you ignroed, me berated me… called me” she looked around before whispering “my lady strong-”

“That's because you are, my..lady..strong, you are a strong and you are mine. Your mother made you a bastard but she also made you mine.” 

“YOU-” she said, a little too loudly, “you are mad”

“The best targeryens are” he replied, “i want you, i need you, i always have and always will. I just liked to play with you a little” he msiked, “ and in seven days i get to play with you even more” 

The song ended, and Aemond went to sit down. Leaving Aemma all the more confused. Just how he liked it.

Later that night Aemma sat alone in her chambers, her ladies having just left to retrie. Her conversatiuon with Aemond replaying over and over in her head.

She had always been a little slow, always compared to her great grandmother Daella. She was always called naive and had things dumbed down. And Aemond had always liked that she supposed. When they were younger he had always liked to dumb things down for her, even if she understood, making her reliant on him. She would stop thinking, stop wanting to understand things for herselves, because Aemond had made her believe he would do it for her. But she didn't know that, she overtime just started to think perhaps everyone was right, she was slow and needed the extra help. The help Aemond always amde surehe was giving her, even when she thought he hated her, he still did it. He had made her entirely reliant on him, and she would never know. 

“Aemma?” she heard someone whisper, unsure of where it was coming from.

“My lady strong?” the voice almost taunted.

“Hello?” she called out, standing up to look around “who's there?”. Aemond stepped out of the shadwos, causing her to jump “Aemond? What are you doing her” she asked, hand on her heart, and taking a deep breath.

“Too see you, my bethrothed.”

“We-we can..cannot be alone together until the wedding night..you should go” reaching for her seven pointed star pendant.

“I should, but we should also talk.” she sat down on her bed, reaching for her and pulling her down next to him.

“yes, yes i suppose so” she agreed, nodding her head, hand still wrapped around the pendant.

He smiled, not the cold one she was used to, but a warm one, one she had longed to see again (not that she would admit it) “good” he moved closer, his hand reaching to stroke her cheek.

That night they talked, it felt liek the old days, when they were the closest of friends. When they were envied by all for how close they were. It was like they were children again, and it made Aemmas heart skip a beat. 

The next day at breakfast, her ladies were told what had happen, with Cassandra shaking her head, “no! We hate him, hes a bully,” 

“Yes but he is also to be her husband, they should be close” said Cersci.

Clapping her hands, Cerelle agreed “oh its perfect, hes obsessed with you! After this we should go to his chambers and you two can go on a walk through the gardens, and have a picnic” she gusehd, grasping Aemmas hand.

Cassandra huffed “he has been nothing but cruel to her, and all of a sudden we love him? No its one of his games, hes taunting you”

“No” Aemma shook her, “no, hes changed, last night it was like we were the old Aemond and Aemma, before driftamark. He cant be-he-” she shook her head, her head dropping. “ its too cruel, even for Aemond. Why would he wish to strat a marriage based on a cruel game?”

“Beacuse hes mad!”

The ladies at the table all gasped at cassandra.

“What? He is, everyone can see that! He lost his sanity alongside his eye-”

Aemma slapped her arm “ Cassie! Dont say that, you werent there, that night was horrible!” she sighed, “ all know is that this is the start of something, we could be civil. Our marriage was meant to ease the conflict in our familes, and we agreed to try, and just let me be a little delcusional please” she laughed, “you all are!” causing the ladies to huff, “i mean it, like Maergret batting here eyes at Daeron verytime he visits and he doesnt even glance your way and he calls you Mary! And Rosia, Cregan Stark? We met him once and you have not stopped obsessing over him, not to mention he had a wife when we met him. And Cassie, lord Redwyne?” she gave her a look, “and dont get my started on you Cerelle and Cersci, i may be slow but dont think i havnet noticed to two of you!” she taunted, “let me think there might be a chance, please, and who knows you may be right, but either way in a week i will married, and he will be my husband. Whether we like him or not!”

Aemond thought she mad, not as mad as he, but as he watched her, sat in the gardens, as he hid behind a rose bush. One night of his undivided attention on her and she, well it was playing out perfectly. The games he had been playing fro years. The constant thought of eachtother on the others mind, the way he taunted her, made her beg fro his attention. Allowing one night of undivided attention to make her think they would be them old selves again. The old Aemma and Aemond. The Aemond who would slaughter the whole of Westros for her, the Aemma who believed very word he said and relied on him to do everything for her. The Aemma who when it came to the inevitable war would believe her mother had hated her, forgotten her, and that he was the only one who loved her. 

It was fun to taunt her, yes. But he loves her, always has, but he supposes the rumors at court were right, perphas all his sanity was in the eye stolen from him.

Next part

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

My lady strong: @aemondssiut@idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyya @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aelora-a @aleemendoza2425-blog @chittakii @gghoulzz @ryiana @duckworthbean @cynic-spirit @may-machin @Gianinaa19 @wolfiealina @unique7676 @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew

Hotd: @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @flrboyd @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

[mywifealhaitham]

Love your post, you’re my idol now.

I want to request Sunday with Jean! reader.

You just like him, both hold a big responsibility to city, you are the Acting Grand Master and he’s the representative of the Family.

Also both have sister that is a famous single. (Barbara and Robin)

Image proud older sibling to their lovely younger sibling.

instead of an acting grand master I'm going with an acting leader of one of the other families! anyway he sees himself alot in you. with you're hardworking behavior that sometimes can be so much to the protective nature you have over the people in the family your temporary leading. he admires that so much and adores you for it however it does kinda wake him up.

he always stops by your workplace and shoos you away from your work and makes you take a break but often times he just runs back to his office. one day you confronted him about this because his own workaholic behavior concerned you and frankly this woke him up.

now you two go on dates during the breaks you take. he likes to take you around golden hour and other dreamscapes he had a part in making and whenever you're eyes glimmer at a magnificent sight he gets all giddy inside, it makes him feel awfully proud.

as for the sister Sunday definitely set up a meeting between her and Robin. when you first introduced him to her his first thought was how lovely they are and how her and Robin would be along! once they did a collaboration on a song and both you and sunday where in the front seats with tears in your eyes like the proud siblings you are!!!!

[ennoshitas-princess]

Winning My Heart

Kenma Kozume x chubby fem! reader Warnings: fluff, slight bullying (not from Kenma), Kuroo setting the two of you up, slight subducting (comments), swearing Synopsis: you are the younger sister of a professional gamer and he takes you to a convention, even though you wanted to spend your weekend at home Word Count: 772 So, I hope you love this, bc I found the idea super cute.

Being dragged by your older brother to any place where he had to be was something you were already used to, but never quite enjoyed. In your honest opinion you found video games fine, but never enjoyed playing them. Just the thought of you being here made your anxiety skyrocket to a whole new other level.

“Look, y/n. Your older brother is cool, isn't he?” Your brother bragged about his success, even though he just gained fame because of you.

The real reason why he became famous rather quickly happened one fateful day, the day you decided to enter his room while he streamed himself playing Minecraft. You entered to check up on him, and only in seconds when the comment section of his stream started to go nuts over you.

One comment read: “Damn, I wish I could date her~”

Another read: “Is that your girlfriend??”

Another one: “I bet her pussy tastes so good~”

Just seeing those comments made you ick in disgust. Mainly, these were guys right around your brother's age, about in their twenties. You were just in your second year in high school. Just thinking about them made you want to leave, but you just stood there, rolling your eyes.

He kept on shooting each opponent down, each smearing in red as they fell onto the ground. You stood there with eyes opened up widely, shaking in place, wanting to leave and not see the bloody horror on the screen.

He eventually got shot, but never made it to the top of the rest. The highest score right when your brother died was about twenty thousand points, while he only got to like a thousand or so. You stood there wondering who was the one with all these points?

You walk away from the pouting of your brother, not wanting to deal with the big baby he is. You found yourself venturing off to anywhere to maybe find an exit, but a part of you just wandered around to check the place out.

From pro gamers, to noobs, to the in-betweens, your eyes glimmered under the lights hung right above your head. The time and dedication put into being here made you want to congratulate every single one of them, except your brother.

You eventually see a stand with a faux blond playing Mario Kart, trying to beat a rooster head right beside him.

Fascinated, you stop to check out who is going to win. A group of tall guys stand in front of you, snickering to each other.

“What is a fat ass like you doing here? Only guys are allowed. Not a girl like her.” One of them said.

“Yeah, like what the fuck is wrong with her? She should go to the restaurant right around the corner.” Another snickered.

The faux blond got distracted with the comments and turned around to glare at them.

“What is wrong with you guys?!? Anyone can be here and have fun. You guys are just jealous that she might be better than you.” His golden eyes pierced their souls.

With that, they scurried off to hide.He turned back to his game, only to lose. His eyes popped out with frustration, wanting to kick anything and everything. He lost because of those dumb guys. You weren't a problem, they were.

“Hey, you protected that girl even at the cost of you losing Kenma. Why?” Kuroo teased the guy.

“Because people like them are just dumb and don't deserve to even exist, like they are just wasting our oxygen.” Kenma shrugged it off.

Kuroo being himself, he knew there was something more with him and you.

“Hey, Chibi-chan. Who are you and do you have a boyfriend?” Kuroo called out to you.

Your face scrunched up with a hint of blush. A random hot guy is asking you if you have a boyfriend. How could this be happening?

“Umm… no, I don't.” You glance down to the floor.

“Great! Hey Kenma, why don't you go out with her?” He teased him.

His head turned around to where you stood. His face turned into a tomato seeing your cute chubby cheeks. Your outfit too made you even more adorable.

“What is your name?” The rooster head asked.

“L/n y/n.” You replied to him.

Cute, I guess. The faux blond thought.

He reminds me of my kitten. You thought.

“Do you play video games?” Kenma approached you with a hint of hesitation.

“No, but my brother does.” You point to where your brother sat.

“Oh. I thought we could play together. I could always teach you some time.” He suggested.

“Sure!” You smile happily.

A/n: hello, the post I promised of Kenma!! I will post the winner of the poll soon!! Hopefully you enjoyed reading this!!

Thanks for stopping by!!

∘•······································•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•·······································•∘

All rights reserved copyright ©

ennoshitas-princess

Please DO NOT repost on any other platform!!

Reblogs are acceptable

[oneshotnewbie]

how are you??

i was looking at your list and saw that you write for the walking dead and was wondering if you’d be willing to do a request on it for me? thank you!!

so it’s basically maggie greene (rhee) x teen!reader where reader is like a daughter or a younger sister to her. it’s nothing special or major, but maybe just a cute little story where reader gets sick or hurt and maggie takes care of her and is all motherly/big sister-like with reader?

also reader’s carl’s age, so i think about fourteen then? again, you can change the age if you need to, i don’t mind!

- 🍄 anon

Authors note: Hey, sweet mushroom. I am doing okay so far, I hope you are doing great! At the same time, I hope you like this little story ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The world was a shadowy landscape of ruined buildings, deserted streets and the faint echoes of past civilization. The earth, once vibrant with life, now lay in the grip of a post-apocalyptic silence.

In the middle of this desolate scenario, between rusty walls, lived Maggie with her small "family" - a group of survivors who had come together to survive in this unnatural world. Among them you, whose real name had long been lost in the turmoil of time.

It was the icy wind of a wintry morning that intensified the already bitter cold of the Forsaken Land as an ominous cough snaked its way through the silence of the house. Maggie sensed the icy breath of sickness beginning to spread through the ranks of the community. You, who had previously been a steadfast and indestructible pillar of the group, were among those affected and woke up with a feverish chill.

The symptoms appeared quickly: fever, chills and an exhausted look that bore the marks of suffering. But Maggie, a woman with an aura of determination and keen eye for your needs, recognized the gravity of your situation. Your body heavy, limbs aching, and eyes bloodshot from the fever that burned within you like a raging fire. "Hey, how are you feeling today kiddo?"

"Mags, I feel like I've been torn apart by a pack of wild dogs," you whispered, every movement making your body tremble as the older one approached your bed. Your voice, a faint breath in the gloomy silence, betrayed the exhaustion and weakness that the illness brought with it.

She sat down in an empty spot on your bed and gently placed a hand on your forehead. "You're literally burning. I have to see what I can find to help you. Otherwise the fever will kill you," she spoke with a look that told stories of loss and will to survive as her inner turmoil filled the air. "You want to leave me?"

"Just to get you and the others medicine,“ The group had hardly any remedies left to fight the disease. Medicines were in short supply, and the improvised teas offered no protection against the creeping germs. The post-apocalyptic world was not forgiving, and illnesses often became inescapable judgments. But the woman in front of you refused to just abandon you to your fate. Her connection to you was deeper than anyone else's. You had become like a little sister to her, someone she wanted and even needed to protect and support. "Carol will stay with you for the time I'm gone and take care of you. I'll get back to you as soon as possible. I promise."

With one last goodbye kiss, she left you in bed and set off with Daryl to do everything they could to bring you relief while, without her, time blurred into an endless succession of feverish hours and cough-ragged days.

The sun had long since hidden behind the toxic clouds in the sky when the search for medicine became a fight for survival in the shattered ruins of the buildings. The footsteps on broken glass and the constant gusts of wind blowing through the dilapidated shutters seemed to underscore the urgency of the mission.

She searched for medication in numerous abandoned pharmacies and barricaded doctor's offices. Her hands, battered by the cold and the endless digging through rubble, searched for the glimmer of hope amid the devastation until she finally came across locked cupboards, the only contents of which were a few bottles, expired medication and a few blankets. Maggie wasn't discouraged and took everything she could find. With a tenacity driven by her love for you, she returned to make use of what little she had found.

"Here, take this, sweetheart," she said, handing you a handful of expired medication. "It's not much, but it should at least bring down the fever a little." You smiled weakly and accepted the pills gratefully, barely getting into a sitting position. "Thanks. I don't know how I would do this without you."

She waved it off as if it were obvious. "In these times, we need to stick together. No one should wander alone in the dark. Especially not you," she helped you take the pills and then spread an extra blanket over you. "You're like my little sister, y/n. If something happened to you- I would never be happy again."

Over the next few days, your bedroom became a kind of makeshift hospital room and she began to care for you with a mix of old survival instincts and an unwavering caring nature. Blankets and hot water bottles became weapons in her fight against the invisible threat that took over your body.

The wind howled around the corners and an icy storm raged outside as the brunette spent the next few days cooking soups that she laced with fever-reducing drugs. She woke up by your side nightly, placing wet towels on your hot forehead and whispering soothing words into the darkness while you slept. The nights were long and quiet, interrupted only by the patients' wheezing and the crackling of their movements.

The group watched as the woman, who otherwise seemed so stoic and aloof, cared for you tenderly and self-sacrificingly. The others, who otherwise only knew the harsh reality of everyday life, witnessed a love between strangers that became family and that was more precious than any resource in these times.

Time crawled by and the disease tried to tighten its ugly claws. But Maggie's care and love proved to be powerful weapons. You fought against the disease, strengthened by their tireless help and solidarity support.

You lay weak, but your eyes still sparkled with life. In the quiet moments between feverish bouts, you and Maggie found time to talk quietly. "You have to stay strong, y/n. The world may have fallen apart, but we can't let it break us," she spoke as she cooled your forehead.

You smiled weakly, your eyes glassy with tiredness. "You're like a mother to me, Mags. I really can't imagine what it would be like without you."

Maggie just sighed quietly. "You are my family. I can't imagine what it would be like without you either."

The days passed and the illness slowly faded away like the side after a storm. You struggled back to your feet, strengthened by her unwavering belief in survival. The post-apocalyptic world may have been one of destruction and loss, but in this small corner of reality, humanity shone in its purest form, igniting a flame of hope for every survivor who walked the streets of Alexandria.

[yellowcry]

Isabela headcanons

 

Isabela Belén Rojas Madrigal. Born 7th of August 1928

 

Childhood

Was the golden child since her birth. Obviously, she wasn't forced into perfection since day one, but still was favourised for being the first grandchild.

Isabela said her first word when being babysat by Pepa and Bruno. Pepa called her brother "dumb". Isabela had repeated. (Can you tell me Pepa wasn't crying from how proud she was?)

Extremely stubborn. You couldn't make her stop if she wanted to do something. No matter how many candy you'd give her.

Used "I'm older so you should listen to me" card all the time. Especially when it came to her sisters.

Friendly teased Luisa for being younger. It didn't happen with Mirabel much because Isabela was busy exploring her cool new gift when she was born.

Was fascinated with flowers. Enjoyed making flower crowns even before getting her gift.

She was slowly rising in perfection even before Mirabel's ceremony. But it wasn't very obvious. Failed ceremony just made the process way faster.

 

Adult years (pre-movie)

 

Enjoyed reading about various plants. Could easily give advice about any plant. Did anyone used it? No

Actually pretty good in sport. Had won several award in school, mostly for gymnastics. Probably the second most sportive Madrigal after Luisa.

Made flower crowns manually in her room as a way to distract herself and calm down when she was overwhelmed.

Started to date Mariano because she didn't want to upset him or Abuela. Mariamo was the one to confess his feelings (ableit to his Abuela), Alma didn't set them up.

Had thoughts of running away several times to escape perfectionism and always felt guilty for it.

Started to have gray hair at the age of seventeen. Always styled her hair the way when it would be hidden. As Isabela thought it wasn't perfect

If she has to go on a date with Mariano, she'll try to get them to the meadow. There Isabela could at least withness a beautiful nature.

Disliked Mirabel because felt that her sister wad getting everything without an effort. And was jealous of the fact that their parents were closer to Mirabel. Isabela didn't realize the full extent of how her actions hurt Mirabel too.

Had nearly no relationship with Luisa, taking how busy they both were.

If anyone dared to misgender Dolores, even prior WECID, they would wake to see their house wrapped in roses. Thorns work just as good as cacti.

Post-movie

Changes her dress every odd day. Coloring it, cutting, whatever she can think off. Girl knows no consistence. Her favourite colour also changes constantly. Today it's sky blue, tomorrow will be green and yesterday it was gray.

Same goes for her hair. She regularly paints it. And don't forget glimmering silver! She doesn't hide it anymore.

Julieta cried when she saw Isabela having gray hair. Because it made her realize just how much she had grown up

Experiments with herself all the time. How else should she find herself?

It took her a while to get comfortable with showing her true self to people outside of the family. Sometimes she still wonders if others actually like her.

Grows avocado around just to add it to her food. She's allergic to avocado.

Adds milk to people's coffee just for the sake of it. Only drinks café con leche with an extreme amount of sugar.

The biggest drama queen you could meet.

The favourite niece to both Bruno and Pepa.

The most talkative and outgoing out of her sisters, won't shut up if you say a word about plants and will spend hours talking on it.

Protective. Will join Luisa on fighting whoever had insulted their sister/cousins. If not fight all by herself of course. 

Relationship.

Alma: Has a bit hard time with her post-movie. Doesn't hate her grandmother and probably still close to her, but does have troubles with expressing herself to her for the first few years. Eventually gets over it and starts to show her messy side in all its beauty.

Pepa: They are very similar. Isabela adores her Tía. Pepa probably often joins to gossip with Isabela and Dolores. Both are emotional and very dramatic. Pepa also helps Isabela with expressing her emotions via plants with her gift. Same way the weather express her emotions. .

Bruno: Isabela likes her Tío. But feels awkward around him for the time being. The last time she saw him was when she was eleven. And he was barely socialising even back then.. She likes him. And Bruno seems to understand her pretty well, as he was the favourite back in his youth too. She probably the first one ut of grandkids to be comfortable around him.

Julieta: Likes her mother, but they aren't overall close. Isabela is an adult, and way more active and crazy than calm and responsible Julieta.

Agustín: Closer to her dad, expessially as she doesn't smell like flowers all the time anymore. But the thing of being an adult is still in work. It's easier to open up to her Tíos rather than to her parents.

Félix: Cool but pretty distant. 

Dolores: Best friend since childhood™, gossip about everything. Isabela was the first person Dolores had confessed her feelings for Mariano after the engagement failed. Attached to the hip and together almost all the time. They were close even when both still were involved into the whole thing with Mariano.

Luisa: Grew closer as both became free from expectations. They like to tease eachother and playfully fight (which is usually Isabela trying to hit Luisa and Luisa blocking her). Isabela uses her muscles as a pillow whenever she wants. Luisa pays the favour by using Isabela as an armrest.

Camilo: Arguing and competitive relationship. Both are active for the sake of being messy. Probably will fight eachother just for the sake of it. Isabela was very jealous of Camilo and found him annoying pre-movie (even more than Mirabel). She still thinks Camilo is annoying but enjoys messing with him.

Mirabel: Now both are pretty cool. They still argue from time to time, but it's never even half as bad as it used to be. Mirabel encourages Isabela from time to time, and Isabela looks after her sister especially when Luisa's not around. Both try to make it up for all the problems in their relationship

Antonío: Wasn't close to him before, giving an age gap. Now adore spending time together as two the most passionate about nature. Isabela often takes Antonío out to show him wild outskirts where he can see many animals

Nicknames:

Isa (by Mirabel, Luisa, Dolores, Agustín and Felíx)

Bela (By Dolores, Luisa, Camilo, Julieta, Pepa, Alma and Bruno)

Hermanita (By Luisa when Isabela annoys her. Or when she wants to annoy Isabela)

Señorita Perfecta. (Mirabel when Isabela annoys her. Other grandkids as a joke. Isabela herself when she refers to her old self)

Mi Flor (Alma, rarely her parents)

[atzjuyeon]

MEET THE SEOS .ᐟ

SEO CHANGMIN ⚡︎ FATHER

changmin’s only goal in life since having a family was to protect them. he vowed to do so to her mother when she died, and that especially goes to his youngest, juyeon. he’s very doting towards juyeon, always being there to cheer her when she’s sad, and reprimanded her siblings when they seriously hurt her feelings. out of all of his children, juyeon looks the most like their mother, therefore he has a softer spot for her.

he has tried his hardest to help juyeon through her mental struggles. he put her in therapy and did everything he could to try to understand and help her. all he’s ever done was try to help her grow into a good person, a person she could be proud of. he encouraged her to do the things that make her happy and to live well.

juyeon and her father have a relatively close relationship. they talk at least once a week and juyeon feels comfortable talking to him about things that are going on and how she’s feeling.

SEO JINAH ⚡︎ OLDER SISTER

juyeon and jinah used to be extremely close when they were kids. jinah loved having a younger sister and juyeon looked up to her. she would try to dress like her and wanted to be like her. jinah encouraged juyeon’s growing creativity and was her biggest supporter.

this all changed once their mother passed away. jinah blamed juyeon for it and their relationship was never the same. from the day she died, jinah treated juyeon like a bad omen, believing that she brought nothing but trouble. she refused to talk to her and avoided her in any way she could. as juyeon’s mental state worsen, instead of being understanding, jinah called her crazy and difficult. anything good that juyeon did was always outweighed by her mistakes.

there has been a few glimmers of hope in recent years. jinah congratulated juyeon for her debut, juyeon made jinah a cake for her college graduation. they obviously still care about each other, but they awful memories they share make it difficult to move forwards. nowadays, they don’t really talk outside of important events or milestones.

SEO JISEUNG ⚡︎ OLDER BROTHER

juyeon and jiseung have a neutral relationship. they don’t hate each other, but they aren’t close by any means. jiseung has always seen juyeon at the “annoying little sister.” he soft bullied her, calling her annoying and a nightmare, which would later influence jinah’s opinion of her.

jiseung doesn’t hold a huge grudge against juyeon like jinah does. he can’t fully put the blame on her and understands that she couldn’t’ve known. he’s actually grown to be protective of her, unbeknownst to juyeon. he defends her around others and has the mentality of “only i can make fun of her.” he has tried to help her when she engages in unhealthy behavior, like smoking underage and hanging around people that aren’t good for her.

[hotdwriter]

Our beloved Targaryen - Aegon III x Ofc

Pairing: Aegon III Targaryen x Velaryon ofc

It was mere months ago when it happened. When Daeron Velaryon drowned in the Stepstones, leaving two orphans behind. The two girls have already lost their mother Hazel, who died due to the winterfever. When Alyn Velaryon attacked at the daughters´ war in 133 ac, his cousin, Daeron, died and left his two young daughters behind.

Alyn didn´t hesitate when he proposed the idea of taking his nieces as their ward to his lady-wife Baela Targaryen. The two were still young and Baela wasn´t happy with his opposition, knowing she´d have to look after the sisters on her own while her lord-husband would continue to sail to the sea, just like their grandfather -mayhaps father, no one knew of Alyns true parentage- Corlys Velaryon, named the sea snake.

Baela relucted but gave in nonetheless. She grew to be fond of the two girls, for they were well-mannered and respected their elders. Daenaera, the younger one, was a happy child. She didn´t understand the concept of death yet and was therefore not inconsolable, unlike her older sister, Vaelys. The girl of thirteen was no fool, she knew of her current position as an orphan and was aware that she couldn´t behave badly when her kin fostered her and her little sister.

Therefore she always put on a smile, despite her inner turmoil. And her sweet sister always made Vaelys feel at ease, which made it easier for her to act happy. She vowed herself to protect little Daenaera, she couldn´t loose her babysister , after the passing of her parents, for which she would truly and utterly be alone.

When the realm received the news of queen Jaehaeras passing, everything suddenly changed. The hand of the king, Unwin Peake, along with the rest of the kings regents, declared for a ball to be held, where the king would choose his second wife and new queen. The people called it the Maidens´ ball day

The restriction of the ball were clear; only maidens of high nobility and under the age of thirty were allowed to attend the feast.

When house Velaryon heard of the news, they inclined to attend the feast themselves, to which they didn’t exactly get an invitation. But it was an open invite, right?

Unwin Peake wasn’t exactly fond of the rogue princes daughter, who was as reckless as her father. Aegon III didn’t have any heirs, his previous marriage remained fruitless, to which Lady Baela was now second in line to the iron throne. The hand of the king couldn’t stand that fact, he’d rather be hanged than watch the wild girl sitting in the iron throne.

Which was why he was so adamant on wedding the king to a new maid, preferably his own daughter. Many even speculated that he had a ‘hand’ in the death and many disappearances of the girls which were to attend the ball.

Those were still only rumors, and even if they did have some truth in it, no one could exactly prove it.

Nevertheless, lots of maidens around Westeros traveled to Westeros, including Vaelys.

When Baela and Alyn spoke to her about their idea, she couldn’t exactly deny them. They gave her and her little sister a home at a much needed time and they were well fed.

Vaelys knew that with her becoming consort, the Velaryons would hold more power over the realm than before and she was keen on returning a favor, especially when it meant that Daenaera could stay on Driftmark.

She would simply do anything for the well-being of her sister, after all.

Vaelys was still young though and didn’t wish to be married so soon, especially because she already had already blossomed which meant she was ready to be bedded, despite her young age.

The idea of it scared her senseless, she was mature for her age but she heard enough tales to know the risks of bedding girls too early, miscarriages, death on the birth bed and much more.

Baela assured her she wouldn’t be bedded until she was four and ten, where the risks wouldn’t be as high.

A glimmer of hope believed her kins words, but it wouldn’t even be sure if the king would choose Vaelys as her second wife, especially when over a thousand other maiden were presented in front of him?

Baela and Rhaena decided to have a dramatic arrival, riding into the great hall on horseback. Vaelys was behind them on a separate horse. She felt anxious when she noticed hundreds of people staring at her. Before departing for kings‘ landing, Rhaena made sure to dress Vaelys in a beautiful light blue gown, a necklace of sapphires was around her neck as her hair was braided into a halo, her white braid was decorated golden clips and she wore earrings that matched her necklace.

Vaelys worried about her sister, Daenaera who was left at Driftmark, together with Lord Alyn Velaryon. She missed her little sister dearly and worried if Daenaera was misbehaving or any of the sort, scared of her sister losing her place in the lords‘ castle.

She held her head high nonetheless, and kept her posture up while she rode behind her kin. When the lord commander demanded Baela to step off the horse, she replied with:“ His Grace my brother can command me. You cannot.“ Baela then shifted her attention to the king and Rhaena smiled fondly at him.

„Your grace, we’ve brought you the queen you want“, Baela spoke before Vaelys gracefully stepped off her horse, holding up the skirt of her dress while she walked towards the throne.

Vaelys then curtsied, gifting him a charming smile of hers. As she stood in front of him, she now could see him clearly. He was the same age as her, and had the same color of hair, which he kept to his shoulders long. He had a bored look on his face before she arrived, his fingers impatiently tapping against the side of a sword.

His eye color was the one of dark purple, it looked almost black. His eyes reminded her of the ones of a doe, while Vaelys herself had eyes of violet, like the flower viola.

„I am Lady Vaelys of house Velaryon, your grace“, she elaborated while raising her head.

The weary boy mirrored her expression, gifting her a smile of his own, much to the surprise of the people around them.

„You are very pretty, Vaelys“, he complimented. She was the first to be showered with affection by the king, much to the disdain of the lord hand.

Vaelys flushed at his words, feeling her cheeks redden by the sudden show of affection. She had heard of the boys’ attitude and was surprised being granted with his newfound attention.

“I am flattered, your grace”, she bowed once again and couldn’t control her lips from grinning widely at him. Her happiness somewhat affected the king, who was now also feeling more positive than before.

After Aegon nodded, Vaelys found her place next to Baela and Rhaena and the three of them waited for the rest of the maiden to be presented to him. Aegon only gave each of them a quick nod and his gaze sometimes switched to Vaelys.

After the everyone was finished, the king brought Gaemon to his side and whispered his decision into the boys’ ear.

Gaemon grinned at his friend and loudly declared his choice.

“The king will wed Vaelys Velaryon”, he smiled happily while Aegon sheepishly avoided the girls gaze.

Vaelys’ blood ran cold at the mention of her name.

Sure, Aegon was a beautiful boy and it would be an honor to be his queen but she didn’t really expect him to choose her.

Her eyes widened at the mention of her name and quickly looked to the two women at her side, who nodded in approval to her. They knew they made the right decision when bringing Vaelys to court with them

Unsure of what to do, Vaelys bowed her head out of respect and forced a smile of her own. The maidens were sobbing in the hall when they heard Gaemons words. Unwin was practically fuming at the boys‘ choice and was certainly not content with him.

When the guests were dismissed and left the hall afterward, Baela and Rhaena stayed with Vaelys. She bit her lip and felt her anxiety rise when the king arose from his throne. He dismissed himself rather quickly and wandered off to his chambers.

A servant then walked toward her and curtsied before asking her if she’d wish to be shown her new chambers.

Vaelys bid Baela and Rhaena a quick goodbye before she followed the older woman into the halls of the red keep. When they arrived, Vaelys unsurely looked around to take her new surroundings in. The servant quickly left her alone after she told her she’d then call her for a shared supper with the king himself.

Vaelys gulped at the mention of him, the reality slowly setting in. She was just a young girl without parents, thrown into a huge responsibility. Perhaps she’d find common ground with the king, but she did not know, yet.

The girl walked toward the window and held up her skirt before sitting on the window sill, watching outside the castle. She’d have to mentally prepare herself before being able to stepp foot outside her chamber.

It did not take long to wait until being called by the servant, since it was already late. Vaelys quickly stood up and smoothened out the wrinkles of her gown, making herself look presentable before following the maid toward the hall where the dinner was served.

When the guards declared her presence, Aegon looked up at her from his seat. She held his gaze for a short moment before he averted his gaze to his plate. Gaemon sat on one end of the table while mushroom, the jester, was on the other side. Vaelys then took her seat opposite from the king and a servant quickly filled her goblet of wine.

„your grace“, she acknowledged his presence and lowered her head before plucking a grape and eating it.

Aegon nodded at her and a hint of a smile was noticeable on his face. It was enough to make the girl flush once again, like in the great hall before.

Mushroom made one of his jests to which Gaemon giggled and Vaelys failed at hiding her chuckle. Mushroom was aware that he could never make the king laugh, but atleast his company seemed to be delighted by his humor.

Aegon kept quiet most of the time, but a rare smile graced his lips as he watched the two others enjoy themselves with mushrooms jests.

After their shared meal was finished, Aegon was going to dismiss himself to go to his chambers before Vaelys stopped him.

“Could you show me where the library is?”, she girl asked shyly. She could have asked any other servant to show her the hall, but she instead wants his presence near her.

She noticed that Aegon was a passive boy who would not make the first move, so Vaelys tried to spend time with him so they could warm up to one another. They were to be wed after all.

A servant came in between, offering the girl to show her the library themselve, before Aegon quickly interrupted them.

„I will do it“, he spoke lowly and motioned for Vaelys to follow him, which she gladly did.

The two dismissed themselves and walked down the hall, a sworn protector following in their heels. When they made halt in front of the library, extended his hand for hers which Vaelys gladly took.

The knight stayed outside the door, giving the two of them privacy.

„Do you often spend time here?“, she asked while her eyes trailed along the tall bookshelves. She let go of his hand as she walked toward a small shrine that caught her eye.

Aegon *almost* wounded at the sudden loss of contact, for he felt comfort from her warm touch.

“No, I’m not very fond of reading”, he replied monotone. His eyes followed her silhouette while she looked for a book, before she grabbed one from the shelve and sat on the comforter.

“Do you wish for me to read to you?”, she asked him while she made enough space for him to join her.

When he hesitated, she added:” My parents used to read to me when I was younger. When I’m in need of comfort or miss them, I read to someone. It reminds me of the affection they gave me.”

Aegon nodded and took a seat next to her on the cushion, leaning back. He was hopeful it would also help him with the loss of his own parents, which he missed dearly.

“Place your head on my lap, it soothes one”, she said. Aegon gulped, knowing it would be an intimate position for the two of them. He wasn’t ready to let his guard down around her so soon, but he was desperate to try and forget his loss fore one second.

He then did as he was told, slowly nestling himself in her lap. Her gown was surprisingly comfortable, he thought.

Vaelys opened the book and began to read to him; the story was about the failed of the sea snake. His adventures on sea and the things he encountered.

Vaelys had a soothing voice, it was soft and warm. It reminded him of his own mother. The candles gave the girl enough light to read the words on the pages, and when she felt him begin to shift more comfortably on her lap, she began to play with his hair.

The motion of her fingers on his scalp in combination with her soothing words made the boy fall asleep quickly. Vaelys didn’t notice and instead grew tired herself rather quickly. Before she realized, she fell asleep, the book was placed on the table next to her before she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

It was a long time ago when Aegon had a sleep this deep and comfortable. When the hour grew too late, the knight slowly entered the library to check up on them when he saw the two entangled with each other.

He was unsure whether to wake them or not, he knew it wasn’t a very compromising position they were in. But he was aware of the kings demeanor and it was a rare sight to see him so at ease.

The king had trouble sleeping most nights, only sleeping a few hours before he stood up and watched the stars in the night sky.

The knight decided not to interrupt but to wait until morning where he’d quickly wake the two up before the servants could see them in the position they currently were in.

Aegon was sleeping peacefully in her lap as Vaelys was had him in an embrace. When the morning arrived, the guard quickly entered the library and ushered for them to wake up. Aegon slightly stirred in his sleep before he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the resting face of Vaelys.

He blushed as he remembered the previous night, quickly sitting back up before he gently shook her. “Mhm..?”, she bounced a couple of time and realized their closeness afterward.

“Oh”, her cheeks reddened and she quickly stood up, still rubbing her sleepy eyes. The guard then spoke:” Mylady, you should go to your chambers before the maids find you.”

She nodded and quickly bowed before Aegon and then walked out of the library where a different guard showed her the way.

“You won’t tell any one of this”, Aegon declared to the knight who then also bowed. “Of course, your grace.”

Aegon then hesitated before he also left the hall. He wasn’t quite sure what to think of the previous night. Vaelys was right when she said that reading to someone would help. He hadn’t slept like that in a long time, especially in one’s embrace. Aegon felt warm inside when he thought of her and he was eager to see her again.

He wasn’t used to this feeling, especially from a girl. It would take some time until he finally felt comfortable enough around her but he knew they both had the same trauma and could help each other.

He knew he made the right decision, to wed Vaelys Velaryon.

_____

(The text is weirdly formatted, idk why tho)

[mania-sama]

rule #22 - if trees could talk

Rule #22 - If Trees Could Talk - Fish in a Birdcage

➼ information ❧ Bungou Stray Dogs ❧ Pairing: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi ❧ Additional Character: Beast Beneath the Moonlight (Byakko) ❧ Tags: ambiguous relationships, human sacrifice, japanese mythology & folklore, no ability users au, historical au, bittersweet, angst, blood, temporary character death ❧ Summary: Every ten years, a young boy no older than a day over thirteen must be sacrificed to Byakko, the deity that protects the small settlement called "The Village of the White Tiger". Akutagawa Ryuunosuke is a boy born out of luck, and he knows that one day he will be sacrificed to keep the compact made a thousand years ago between the villagers and the tiger. When he is laid to die at the feet at the White Tiger's shrine, he finds himself enraptured in the strange presence of a young boy instead of the guardian deity he's supposed to be eaten by. ❧ Word Count: 2,945 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 12 October 2023

➼ whumptober 2023 ❧ Day 12: Sacrifice | Character Death ❧ Previous Day ❧ Next Day ❧ Masterlist

A small village resides at the bottom of a valley. A gushing, torrential river marks its western boundary, and an expansive forest on the north and south border keeps the villagers tucked safely inside. A winding dirt path in the northside wilderness is the only safe way for people to come in and out of the village.

There is no way through the village, at least not by a carved trail. On the south side, a short, stone-paved path will only bring travelers to a massive, well-kept shrine. The tall white walls glimmer only in the moonlight, making the painted wood appear striped and alive. At night, the villagers can hear the call of a tiger as it roams it stalks the wilderness, hunting down prey and watching the villagers as they sleep.

Byakko protects the Village of the White Tiger. Not once has it ever fallen to outside forces, and its people never jeopardized to the steel of a blade nor the crack of a whip. The natural boundaries of the village are a shield of sorts, designating where the harmful world ends and the sanctuary of the White Tiger begins.

Long ago, a band of wandering travelers wanted to finally settle down and start their families. They found the perfect area — a clearing with enough space to build houses and fires, expansive wilderness to hunt live game, a river for washing and fishing, and a mountain to shield them from the worst of the wind currents. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to them, then, that the area was already occupied.

On a bright full moon, these travelers struck a deal with the White Tiger. If he would share his land and offer his protection, they would feed him in turn. Once every ten years, when the moon is yellow and his constellation prowls the sky, a boy not a day over thirteen will be sacrificed. They will bind him by his hands and feet, and they will leave him in a gleaming white shrine.

He will taste like the Heaven and the Earth, and he will be enough to satiate the White Tiger’s hunger until the next decade.

Byakko agreed to these terms, and every decade since then the village has sacrificed a young boy without fail. The boy has never come back, never escaped his bonds, and the village, in turn, has never been harmed by outside forces.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke is a twelve-year-old orphan boy born with an incurable cough and parents who died at his birth.

He is a boy born to die.

Murderer is attached to his name before he can let out his second scream as a newborn baby. He roams the dirt paths of the streets and steals where he won’t be caught, works where he is allowed, and sleeps where the dogs can’t sniff out his urchin stench. His sister drew the luckier end of the deal; being born mere minutes before him, she kept her babe hands clean of blood and death. Gin was adopted into a family unable to conceive a child of their own.

She doesn’t abandon him, though. When she can, she waits in his favorite hideout spot; a small cove on the side of the mountain. Made of stone, he can fit little bits of carefully packaged food that can be eaten on a day when his poor health doesn’t allow him to be out for long. It lets in enough air to be ventilated while also enclosed to trap a comfortable amount of heat. The only downside is its vulnerability to flooding, so he has to wait days after a storm for the water to recede before he can return to it once more.

Gin will sometimes bring food, other times entertainment that he can’t find elsewhere. She teaches him how to knit, mend his clothes, and read his own name. It’s the best part of his week, usually, to see her in his cove. She’s the only person who has ever greeted him with a genuine smile on her face, and a gentle hug to cure the scrapes and bruises of a cursed life.

But he knows they run on burrowed time. It’s his fate; he’s reminded every time he works an odd job, when he looks to the sky and sees the White Tiger prowl for his unfortunate prey when he side-steps the jaws of a snapping hound. He was born to be a sacrifice, and nothing will change that.

For some reason, when he steps into his cove in the middle of the day after a particularly bad coughing fit left him crippled and heaving, he’s still stupefied to be greeted with tears streaming down Gin’s face.

Her hug is as gentle as ever, and she whispers broken apologies in his ear like it’s somehow her fault. She warns him that they will seize him the next time he’s in the village, but that they still don’t know where he returns to sleep at night.

“You still have time,” she says, shaking against his weak body, “you could still run.”

His cove floods in a storm that afternoon, and the villagers find him hidden away and asleep under a shop’s overhang to escape the cold. Ryuunosuke wonders if Gin would be disappointed in the fight that follows — if it can even be called that. It more consists of desperate thrashing of punches and kicks until one man grabs his arms, and another his legs, and they pin him to the ground after just thirty seconds of resistance.

He’s stretched on the ground like yarn being woven to cloth, and a third man binds his legs and arms with two segments of horse-hair rope that rubs the skin of his ankles and wrists raw. He is taken away without fanfare or allowing him to say goodbye to his sister. The wind whips through the darkness of the night, making his hair stick to his mouth. The white tips turn red as he coughs onto them.

One man carries him on his shoulder down the stone-paved path, and the other two hold flickering torches to light the way. The moon provides nearly enough light by itself, but he supposes they don’t want to risk losing their sacrifice. They don’t know what will happen if Ryuunosuke doesn’t make it to the shrine in time. Even he is not keen to find out.

The shrine doors open easily under the push of the leading man, and they set Ryuunosuke at the base of the statue of the White Tiger. It’s made of marble, and the way the moon shines through the open window slots brings it to life more than the walls ever could. Ryuunosuke only ever took a peak once, when stars aligned to allow Byakko to hunt the sky, and he’ll never forget the way the shrine seemed to leap out at him. The ornaments dangling off the overhang made it look like the jaws of a roaring beast.

Now, he sits in front of the white marble statue, closer than he ever was before to the deity destined to devour him. His bound hands rest in his lap, and his back presses uncomfortably against the hard edges of the base of the tiger. The men have long left, and with them, they took the heat of the torches. There is nothing to protect him from the cold wind rustling the rags he wore for clothes and the straggling strands of hair that hang from his head.

It’s quiet. Much quieter than he expected it to be. He closes his eyes and wills his heartbeat to slow down. Perhaps he doesn’t want to see the jaws of the real beast close over his head.

“It’s been ten years already?”

Ryuunosuke’s eyes snap open. It doesn’t take him long to find the source of the voice, for a boy stands in front of him. In his deathly tight grip is a broom, and he looks as though he’s just seen a ghost. The only response Ryuunosuke can give him initially is a fit of coughs that he can’t muffle in his arm. It sprays blood all over his lap and the ground in front of the marble statue.

The boy makes an odd, startled noise. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re sick!”

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” Ryuunosuke replies, licking his lips of any blood he can stuff back into his body. It’s best he saves the most he can for the White Tiger to consume. “Who are you, and why are you here? You’re not the sacrifice.”

A clattering sound resonates in the near-empty shrine, and the boy rushes over to crouch in front of Ryuunosuke. Up close, he can see clearly what he thought he might have been imagining before: the glow emitting from his eyes. The upper halves are colored purple, but the one that truly shines through is the yellow lower half. His black pupils are narrow despite the darkness shrouding them, and Akutagawa wonders who this boy really is.

Despite the shrine’s persistent cleanliness, no villager actually attends the shrine. There have been many legends passed on to explain the phenomena, but no one truly stuck with Ryuunosuke. He’d blamed it in part on his lack of parentage. Now, he sees the truth with his own eyes; a truth that will stick with him until the White Tiger takes its meal.

The person who upkeeps the shrine is just a boy.

“My name is Atsushi. I clean up around here,” he says, and he reaches out to touch Akutagawa’s unkempt hair. His sharp fingernails tug at the knots. “What’s your name?”

“Ryuunosuke,” he introduces, albeit hesitantly. He’s gotten into the habit of introducing himself by his first name in order to avoid affiliation with his sister. He does it for her sake, not his. The fewer foreign travelers spread the word of the Akutagawa family name, the easier it would be for her if she were to ever want to marry outside of the village.

A single strip of hair indicates that Atsushi once had bangs, but for some reason cut them into the hideous part he has now. A black streak cuts the monotony of his white hair.

Ryuunosuke narrows his eyes, and a coiling snake constricts his gut. “The White Tiger is meant to eat me,” he says, pulling away from Atsushi’s fingernail-claws ever so slightly. It’s enough to get him to retract his hand, and the boy has the audacity to turn pink in bashfulness.

“I don’t know about that. Byakko is…” Atsushi sits down fully on the ground, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on top of his knees. His skin is pale in the moonlight, illuminated in a way not so dissimilar to the marble statue. He doesn’t finish his statement. Instead, he focuses his glowing yellow eyes up at the statue, regarding it with a thoughtful gaze.

Ryuunosuke asks, for the second time in the few minutes they’ve spoken to each other: “Who are you?”

Atsushi returns his gaze back to him, and his lips stretch into something that’s supposed to be a smile but doesn’t quite hit the mark. “I was the first boy ‘sacrificed’ to Byakko.”

It makes sense. Ryuunsouke recalls the first thing the boy said to him. It's been ten years already? Only someone who has seen a hundred boys be torn apart can really say something like that.

“Are you alive?”

“Maybe,” he says. “Maybe not. It depends on what you would call alive.”

Ryuunosuke doesn’t know what to make of that answer. From the outside, Atsushi looks as alive as any of the other villagers do. His breaths crystallize in the cold air, his hair moves with the wind flowing from the open windows, and the fingers that carded through Ryuunosuke’s hair feel real.

Yet Atsushi has been present for a hundred meals, making him a thousand years old. No human has ever been recorded as living that long. Only deities and powerful kitsunes — who may as well be deities themselves — can dream of having such a long life. Though, if every day is spent cleaning a shrine for a tiger that ate them is that life, Ryuunosuke can’t imagine it as much of a dream rather than a nightmare.

“Is it hard,” Ryuunosuke starts after an awkward silence, “to watch boys die every ten years?”

Atsushi seems to struggle with that answer. His gaze flits left and right, he bites his lip, and he pulls his legs to be under him rather than in front. He sits on top of his calves now, and he scratches at his arms with his long fingernail-claws. 

When he finally meets Ryuunosuke’s gaze again, he sighs. “I don’t know how to answer that. Nobody has ever asked me before and I…I’ve never seen one die.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can try to hold stifle it, his next coughing fight wracks his body. It’s the worst he’s had all week, and it leaves him breathless even from where he’s sitting. Clotted blood dots on the floor, and they land all over Atsushi’s skin since he moved in to support Ryuunosuke’s collapsing body. However, they don’t quite stain his white shirt or black pants.

Once Ryuunosuke recovers, albeit slowly, from the attack, Atsushi answers his question. “I’ve talked to the boys before, but they’ve all been too scared to hold a conversation with me. And then I’ll close my eyes for only a second, and they’ll be gone.”

“Then don’t close your eyes,” Ryuunosuke responds without thinking. His entire village is on the line. What will happen if Atsushi doesn’t allow the White Tiger to eat him?

Atsushi stares at him owlishly, and Ryuunosuke realizes the boy hasn’t once blinked. Has that been what he’s trying to do all this time? Is that millisecond of time enough for the White Tiger to silently take away the boy Atsushi talks to?

Ryuunosuke doesn’t know what to make of the situation. He doesn’t know what to make of Atsushi, who blurs the line between the living and the dead, the human and the deity. All he knows for certain is what he did before a boy is sent to the shrine every ten years to be eaten by the White Tiger that protects the wilderness.

But so far, all Ryuunosuke has been met with is a boy who has lived for longer than he should’ve. He wonders just how true that ancient legend of the founding of the Village of the White Tiger is. Nobody currently living in the village had been alive back then, and no boy had ever returned to the village to tell the story of Atsushi and the cared-for shrine.

Then the wind whistles a dreadful tune, and a white tiger phases through the closed doors of the shrine.

Byakko is huge. His head nearly knocks against the high ceiling, and just one paw takes up the same amount of space as Atsushi does while sitting. The enormous size of the shrine clicks to Ryuunosuke in a way that it hasn’t before. A deity this big needed a large place to rest and eat its human meals.

And a deity he is. His white fur is lined with a glow that can only be described as otherworldly, like the night sky itself has attached itself to outline his body. His black stripes stick out against the pure white, and it reminds Ryuunosuke of the single strand of black hair in Atsushi’s bang. Byakko inclines his head down, and he does not look at Ryuunosuke.

His piercing yellow gaze is on the boy now standing in front of him, his back turned and his arms out to hold the cheeks of the White Tiger.

Suddenly, the world narrows around Akutagawa, and he gets it. Atsushi, Byakko, and the shrine. They are all different, but they are all one and the same. They operate together to protect the villagers, even if it means sacrificing a boy every ten years.

Even if it's the same boy that has been sacrificed for a thousand years, a hundred times over. Even if it’s just to protect one life.

Somewhere in between Byakko’s arrival and the gaping jaws leaning in to devour the white-haired boy, Atsushi had cut the rope in two. It has to have been his fingernails that weren’t really nails at all, but claws he’d gained after a thousand years of being devoured. His eyes weren’t narrow from being acclimated to cleaning the shrine in the dark, and they didn’t glow from simply being the most colorful being in the room.

Ryuunosuke escapes through an open window, and he feels the hands of a hundred boys before him climbing out of the same sill. They don’t return to the village. They run around the sacred forest and find their way to the dirt path, and they leave using the only safe path available. They don’t look back, and they don’t ever return.

And Ryuunosuke gets it. He preserves Atsushi’s sacrifice just as the boys from a thousand years before him. He feels their hearts pounding just as his beats, and their feet walk on the same roots he trips over now.

Byakko protects the people in the village, following the promise he made with the travelers long ago. He protects the old and the young, the weak and the strong, and the boys outcast from the village — the ones born to die. Ryuunosuke understands that now. He and the boys before him understand it better than anyone in the village ever will.

[ohheyitsjustbear]

K, no one asked but here's the backstory I guess

Renari Brightveil grew up in the cozy yet bustling inn known as The Silver Wave, nestled at the edge of a mountain town where steep cliffs kissed a tranquil sea. Adopted by his parents, loving worshippers of Selûne, Renari's home was always filled with warmth and laughter, especially shared with his older sister Lirael, a wizard in training, and two younger brothers, Edrin and Thorne. The soothing light of Selûne’s influence infused their lives; stories were spun about her celestial moonlit guidance that seemed to whisper hope into every corner of their lives. Together they navigated both ordinary childhood battles against rival clans in improvised games, as well as deeper struggles entwined with prejudice against Renari's heritage, while working to help their parents manage the tavern. However, life wasn’t without its challenges—Renari bore the burden of being different as a tiefling in this small town.

As an adolescent yearning for acceptance amidst teasing jests from local children, he found himself fiercely protective of his brothers when they faced bullies one fateful day. It was there that fate turned cruel; while defending them from harsh words that cut deeper than steel—or so it felt—his left horn shattered against the stone wall during a scuffle. Pain lingered but was eclipsed by deep familial loyalty—a bond forged stronger with each challenge overcome together. Years later brought new darkness upon The Silver Wave—a terrifying night when goliaths descended upon their townsfolk under the direction of their savage leader, Grithar Bloodfist, whose madness twisted them into insatiable beasts bent on destruction. Fuelled by righteous fury for justice and protection over his family, Renari wielded divine power to repel these marauding giants using light-infused strikes from above while tending to his wounded kin below. Renari fought bravely alongside his siblings using both magic-imbued faith and whatever makeshift weaponry they could grasp to protect those dear to them, but their resistance ultimately fell before overwhelming might.

In those desperate moments thick with fear and chaos, Renari received unexpected solace in the form of Rowena—a sleek grey cat sent by Selûne herself to guide him through shadowy paths ahead. After two days wreathed in bloodshed followed by liberation courtesy of nearby warriors answering distress calls—his home reduced to hollow echoes and ashes—Renari made solemn vows to Selûne, taking the first steps in becoming a cleric of The Moonmaiden. With Rowena at his side, an unwavering determination ignited within him: he vowed not only to hunt down these goliath marauders but also to protect those whom fate deemed weak or helpless like himself years ago. As moonlight cast glimmers on distant horizons filled with threats unknown yet calling forth adventure's promise, Renari stepped beyond the boundaries of home toward an uncertain destiny waiting beneath celestial veils—a warrior at last forged by shadows and light alike ready to claim justice for those silenced too long under tyranny's grasp.

[pearlsephoni]

Sink Me Deeper

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: E

Fandom: Psycho-Pass

Pairing: Shinkane (Akane/Kogami)

Characters: Akane Tsunemori, Shinya Kogami, Shion Karanomori, Yayoi Kunizuka

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Akane leaves the lingering summer warmth behind for an entirely different heat down below.

A/N: Written for @shinkaneweek day 1: God or nature as providing protective or spiritual care! also happy birthday Kogami, ya big dope hehe further author's notes can be found on AO3.

🥀

Twice a year, Akane was seized by the strongest sensations of mourning and excitement: mourning for the life she was leaving, and excitement for the life she was returning to. This time, she was mourning the cottage she shared with Shion, the beautiful meadows and groves that she brought fruit to with her beloved older sister.

“Be careful on your travels,” Shion murmured, squeezing Akane tight. “Remind your big important husband that I won’t hesitate to make another eternal winter if he lets anything happen to you.”

“Shion!” Akane laughed, her words muffled in her sister’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Sho won’t let anything happen to me.”

“Good.” With yet another kiss to Akane’s temple, Shion finally pulled away, though she still held her little sister by the shoulders and stared sternly at her. “Do you have an obol for Sho?”

“Yes.”

“And your vial is intact?” Before Akane could answer, Shion peered at the tiny glass vial hanging around her neck, making sure the cherry blossom inside was still alive. “Remember—”

“The magic is for emergencies only,” Akane recited with a sigh.

“Good girl.” Despite the curve of her lips, Shion’s eyes were melancholic as she gazed at her sister. “Well…I suppose that’s it, then.”

“I’ll be back before you know it, Shion,” Akane murmured, wrapping her in one last hug. “Safe and sound, like always.”

“Being queen of the Underworld has made you sound way too responsible,” Shion sniffed. “Go on, then, return to your kingdom, little blossom.”

“I love you.” Akane pulled away with a kiss to her sister’s cheek. She was unsurprised to see tears welling up in Shion’s eyes, but her heart still twisted at the sight.

“I love you, too. Now go.”

🥀

Her return to the underworld was a bit of a whirlwind, as it always was. Her arrival was expected, but she liked to keep the precise date of her return a mystery. She couldn’t help the fact that she relished the sight of everyone greeting her with surprise, joy, and just a touch of panic.

“His Majesty won’t be happy to be the last person in the household to welcome you back,” Yayoi hummed with a wry grin as she wrapped Akane in a warm hug. Her long, pitch-black hair seemed to blend into the silken material draped around her body, with tiny jewels glimmering along the expanse like stars in the night sky. It was fitting garb for the goddess and personification of night.

“If he’s upset about my arrival, he can direct his complaints to Shion,” Akane scoffed fondly. “She’s the reason I’m here a day late.”

“Is that so? And, ah…how is your sister these days?”

Akane grinned at the goddess of night’s terrible attempt at seeming casually uninterested. “She’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of her, with the nights growing longer this time of year.”

Yayoi narrowed her eyes, but couldn’t do anything to hide her faint flush. “Kogami’s last meeting won’t end for another hour or so. Would you like to call for some food?”

Akane could see right through the older goddess’s abrupt change in topic, but didn’t point it out beyond a tiny smirk. “No, no, I…I think I’d like to return to our chambers, actually.”

It was Yayoi’s turn to smirk. “I’m sure you would. Would you like someone to accompany you?”

“No, that’s alright. We’ll see how well I remember this place.” She stole one more tight hug from Yayoi before making her way to the chambers.

She could barely hold herself back as she walked through expansive halls, trying to enjoy the dark columns illuminated by torches and glittering gold frames around beautiful paintings. Plush rugs cushioned her steps and jewels sparkled along the edges of the stone floors. It really was a beautiful palace, worthy of the King of the Undead. But that didn’t keep her from bursting into a sprint as soon as she was deep enough into the palace to be the only one in the hallways.

She felt silly, girlish, like the maiden that her sister tried to preserve for so long. But this was different from all that. Now she was a full-fledged goddess, Queen of the Underworld, dashing through the halls to see her husband.

Catching up with all of the chthonic gods must have taken longer than she’d realized, because when she reached the chambers, they were already prepared for her arrival: her favorite garnet sheets were freshly-stretched across the bed, her clothes returned to the wardrobe, even a platter of grapes and cheese with a decanter of ruby red wine.

Then she took a proper look at her clothes in the wardrobe and discovered the true explanation for the preparations: there, hanging front and center, facing forward in a silent request, was Shinya’s favorite dress. It was a deep red that reminded Akane of the pomegranate seeds that had sealed her fate, with gold clasps over the shoulders, sheer material that would drape over her arms, and a gold, braided belt around the waist.

The servants hadn’t moved quickly. Shinya had prepared for her arrival, going as far as to request her favorite food be brought to the royal chambers.

“You spoil me, My Lord,” Akane sighed, fondness curving her lips and longing tugging at her chest. It was foolish, she knew it was foolish, but her amusement at teasing Shinya was fast melting into a desperate impatience to see her husband.

There was nothing to be done but enjoy a bath, put on the dress, and pour herself a glass of wine. The rich notes of the wine washed over her tongue and eased the nerves that lingered in her stomach.

How much time had passed? An hour? Yayoi had said he would—

“Akane?”

She spun to the great doors, which stood open, forming a perfect, darkwood frame to the only sight she’d been longing for. “Shinya.”

He was dressed in silks that were such a dark blue, they looked black. Only the comparison of their hue against his messy hair revealed their true color. His black hair was shorter, as though freshly-trimmed, but it still threatened to fall into his eyes, that flinty, stony gaze that matched his kingdom so well. He looked every bit the intimidating King of the Underworld…except for the light flush on his sculpted cheekbones and the bitten-pink of his parted lips.

He wasn’t just the king of shadows and shade. He was her husband, her beautiful husband who she’d missed dearly.

And yet…there was always a space of time when they were newly uncertain of each other, a bittersweet result of their time apart. Shinya was slow, deliberate as he shut the doors behind him and stepped towards her, and Akane mirrored his pace, taking careful steps until they stood within arm’s reach of each other.

Then he lifted a careful hand and brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek in a mere breath of a touch, one that she leaned into, eager for any scrap of his warmth that she could steal. “You’re here,” he whispered, skating his fingers along her jaw and under her chin.

“I’m here,” she whispered back, her words ghosting against the thumb tracing her lips.

“I…I missed you…my queen.”

“I missed you, too, my king.”

Those soft words finally brought a smile to Shinya’s lips, a sight Akane only got to relish for a moment before she was humming into a sweet, gentle kiss. “Mm…you’ve been enjoying the wine?”

“Only a sip.” She slid her arms around his shoulders with a blithe smile. “I was waiting to enjoy the rest with you.”

“An ever-generous queen,” Shinya chuckled, letting his hands trace the curves of her body and settle on her hips with a light squeeze. “I’m afraid I had a more…selfish pleasure in mind.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm…” His eyes dragged across her features until they fell open her lips, the weight of their gaze making Akane bite at her bottom lip instinctively.

“Well, then, Your Majesty,” she purred, stepping out of his embrace with a small smirk. Holding his gaze steadily, she slowly loosened the belt at her waist and unfastened the gold clasps holding her dress together, letting the deep red fabric go slack around her, only held up by her hand at her chest. “Enjoy me.”

Shinya’s gaze darkened with desire as he followed her steps towards the bed, shedding his own long chiton until he reached for Akane and pulled her against his naked body. “Does Her Majesty have any special requests this evening?” he asked, coaxing her hands away from her dress and letting the material fall to her feet, leaving her completely bare.

The cool, still air of the Underworld sent goosebumps skittering across Akane’s skin, except for where Shinya’s body was pressed to hers. He had always been warmer than her, down to the scent of brimstone and amber that rose from his skin. She took hold of his wrist, guiding a hand from her waist, along her hip, and between her legs. His hand left a path of warmth across her body, and even when he cupped her mound, the heat of her arousal was smothered by his hot skin. “Show me how much you’ve missed me,” she breathed against his lips, gasping when a single, broad finger delved between her folds and dipped into her arousal.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

He guided her backwards until the backs of her knees bumped against the bed, then gently lifted her until she fell against the soft covers. She’d barely stopped bouncing before her legs were pressed open by his wide shoulders and his dark hair tickled her inner thighs. That was all the warning she got before his tongue opened her up in a firm, wide lick. “Oh!” she gasped, burying her fingers into his hair.

He only hummed in response, his focus fixed on sucking her clit between his lips and rolling his tongue around it. Six months…half a year of longing for him, only able to soothe herself with her own fingers, and now here she was, being feasted on and spoiled by his attentions. It was almost overwhelming, being so suddenly caught between his clever tongue lapping at her clit and his broad fingers coating themselves in her desire before pressing into her. He hadn’t forgotten anything about her body, knowing exactly where to curl his fingers up and how to ghost his teeth against her, making her cry out as her hips arched off of the bed.

“Shin-yah!” she cried, rocking against his mouth as he soothed her clit with his tongue. “Ah, ah, oh, stars, I—!”

“Already?” he chuckled, his low tone almost rumbling through her. “How much did you miss me, my queen?”

“So much,” Akane gasped, her words rising into a whine when she looked down and found him gazing up from between her legs, chin and lips soaked in her arousal. “I missed you so much, Shinya, every single day— aaahn!” Her desperate words brought his lips back around her, sending lightning sparking through, stronger and stronger until she thought she could glow from pleasure. “Close, I’m close,” she said breathlessly, earning a low chuckle that vibrated against her. Shinya didn’t pull away, only rolled his tongue around her and sped up his curled, thrusting fingers, driving into her sweet spot until the pressure was too much to bear.

She broke with a long, drawn-out wail, hips jumping against Shinya’s fingers and lips in time with the waves that washed over her again and again and again.

She didn’t know how long she shuddered with her orgasm, but eventually she tugged Shinya’s head away from her, giving her swollen clit some reprieve from his overwhelming expert attention. “You’re stunning,” he breathed, gazing down at her with blown-out eyes and a soaked nose and mouth. “I’d almost forgotten. Can you give me another one? Let me hear your music again?”

The awe in his voice paired with the way he licked his lips nearly made Akane agree. But she held strong, shaking her head and using her fingers in his hair to guide his lips to hers. “Later,” she murmured, brushing a kiss to his lips. “Right now, I need you in me. All of you, Shinya.”

Shinya swore softly before taking her lips in a proper kiss, licking into her mouth and letting her taste her own desire as he carefully lined his cock up to her swollen pussy. When he began to carefully rock forward, she fell away from his lips with a cry, too focused on the stretch of his bulbous cockhead. Nothing, nothing compared to this, the impossible fit of her husband’s long, thick length into her tight cunt. She was still swollen and sensitive from her first orgasm, but she was also dripping wet, easing the slow breach of every roll of his hips.

“Fuck, Akane,” Shinya groaned, letting his forehead fall to her shoulder, his wild hair tickling her throat. “You feel divine…I almost forgot how well you take me.”

“Yes, yes,” she whined, dragging her fingers through his hair as she tightened her legs around his hips to urge him deeper inside. “Only you, Shinya. Fuck me, please, nothing fills me up like you.”

When their hips finally met, they were both trembling, Akane from the tight fit and Shinya from the effort to not move. By the end of the night, once they made up for lost time, he would be able to drive into her without any warning besides her begging. But for now, after so long, their bodies needed extra time to remember how to fit together. She loved him like this, ever-so-careful of her comfort and waiting so patiently for her to whisper, “Move.”

Then, with a growl, he pulled his hips back until her walls clung to only his tip, before rocking forward, filling her all the way in a single thrust.

His rhythm was relentless from then on, filling the room with the sounds of their moans and the wet slap of their skin. She felt consumed by him, being both filled up and surrounded so completely by his broad form while being pinned by his dark gaze. She could barely see the gray of his irises, his pupils were so blown by desire. It should’ve been at least a little unnerving, but she couldn’t look away, feeling drunk on how thoroughly he wanted her.

She was almost disappointed when he fit his hand between their bodies and drew circles over her swollen clit, making her orgasm suddenly crest over the horizon. She’d wanted more, wanted to feel bruised from his size and pressure, but she couldn’t resist falling over the peak with a cry of his name.

Her walls rippled and clenched around him, drawing him deeper and deeper, until he was groaning with his own orgasm. The feeling of him filling her up made her tremble with another pulse of pleasure, leaving her whimpering by the time his softening length slipped out of her. Without thinking, her hand shot down to cup her mound, keeping his seed from leaking out. Her cheeks burned when she realized what she’d done, but her embarrassment burned away when she found Shinya staring at her messy fingers, teeth sinking into his kiss-bruised lip.

“I, um…could I have a towel?” she quietly asked when he made no move to leave the bed. He blinked back to himself with a small jolt, his cheeks flushing prettily under her eyes.

“Of course,” he murmured, hurrying to stand on shaky legs.

Akane wasn’t really in any hurry—she was perfectly content to melt into the bed, feeling loose and pliant with satisfaction. But she was still eager to take a damp cloth from Shinya and wipe herself clean while he poured fresh glasses of wine. “Well?” he hummed when he sat on the edge of the bed, holding her glass out for her to take after she tossed aside the cloth. “Was that to your satisfaction?”

“I dunno,” she giggled, smiling around the lip of the glass. “It might take a little more than that to really satisfy me.”

“Ah…is that so?”

She hummed, sitting up and stealing a kiss that tasted of rich wine. “The night is still young, no?”

“So it is…” He ducked in to trail kisses down her neck, gently grazing his teeth against her pulse. “What else can I do for you, my queen?”

“Right now…just hold me.” She smiled when he pulled back, watching his surprise melt into fond understanding. “Tell me how you’ve been, Shinya, truly.”

“Well then.” He suddenly stood, fetching the tray of cheese and grapes and carefully setting it on the bed next to Akane. “We’ll need some sustenance.”

Conversation flowed as they caught each other up on how they’d passed their months apart, feeding each other and occasionally pausing to pass sips of wine between kisses. Akane had missed this, the easy conversation and lighthearted debates, as much as the sex, maybe even moreso. That was the best thing about their marriage, and the thing that made their separation so difficult: Akane missed him, Shinya as a whole, longed for his quiet laughter and small, serious frowns as much as she’d missed his lips and fingers and heavy-lidded eyes.

“What?” he suddenly asked in the middle of the story, brow raised.

Akane shrugged, letting her fond smile linger on her lips. “I’m just happy to be back.”

Shinya’s sharp features softened as his fingers found hers. “Me, too. I missed you, Akane.”

“Show me.”

And for the rest of the night, he did, wiping away any lingering thoughts of their time apart until all Akane knew Shinya, King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead, Receiver of Many, and, most importantly, her husband.

[clatoera]

I really am so obsessed with your Cashmere she’s just so so cute. Like totally why wouldn’t she curl the twins hair and it’s totally fine because she’s using a heat protectant! And painting their nails! On a specific day! I feel like enobaria has to just indulge her with certain things but she’s truly the sweetest girl of all right. Why do I feel like glimmer feels like the older sister half the time 😂 maybe because she’s literally a mom haha

🥹✨ Cashmere is the girly we all want to be (me i’m the girly who wants to he her).

She’s like a really unique perspective that I know a lot of us want in that she ISNT their mom..she’s just their fun aunt! She CAN do their hair and let them play dress up and paint their nails and do all the fun things you can do with little girls that she couldnt do if she WERE their mom! Mom’s have to be ready to be responsible and parent them. Fun aunts don’t have to!! Cash gets to do allll the fun stuff then send them home to their mom and gets her 9 uninterrupted hours of beauty sleep and her 10 step skincare routine! Cashmere lives the dream fr.

The nail thing is actually a little bit of a carry over from this idea that Glimmer and Cashmere would get their nails done together EVERY other Wednesday as long as they can remember (sans wartime). Thats why a different nail shape was a red flag she knew her WELL. And this is like..the idea that it carries over to the girls and that once they were old enough (like 2) they joined semi weekly wednesday morning nail time. It’s a sister bonding activity.

I love Cashmere. I love fun auntie cashmere. And so does Enobaria.🩷✨

[ziggystarguss]

Hunted

“Are you Ben’s girlfriend?” My skin was hot, tacky with sunscreen and glimmering with sweat. I was young and pale and easy to bruise, just out of sixth grade and not a day younger. I don’t remember what swimsuit I was wearing, but I remember being ashamed of it. A blue pool penetrated by the sun, there was nowhere I could truly hide. And here, suddenly encircled by a handful of middle-school-aged boys, I was confronted with this question. I was nobody’s girlfriend, certainly not Ben’s, but I couldn’t say that, the sun peering down upon my bare and surrounded body.

“Why are you ignoring them?” It was all I could do, turn away and leave without answering. My sister wouldn’t stop telling me how rude I was being, how all they had done was ask a question and I shouldn’t treat strangers that way. My Missouri-reared mother was nearby, and I knew as well as my sister that impolite behavior was not tolerated. To this I also said nothing. My only power was in silence.

Ben was not in the group of boys confronting me about our relationship status. He was at the public pool that day, but he remained at an arm's length - I could see him hovering in my vicinity, stealing glances that felt greasy and wrong. This exchange functioned just like the rest - only this was analog. He could cruise from afar and no one but me, my bathing-suit clad middle-school body the subject of his relentless fascination, could know the extent of my fear.

Ben was a year my senior, but looked even older. Ben towered over me, or it felt like he did. He was an angry, entitled little boy either too scared or too smart a predator to act in person. His approach was subtle initially, we went to the same school so his following my public Instagram was not weird by itself. What became weird was his blooming obsession with me, articulated by disgusting comments and messages about my body and what he wanted from it. He began digitally catcalling me within an echochamber of people I saw and spoke to everyday. I tried to let it blow over, but he just wouldn’t stop. I told myself I was freaking out over nothing, that he wasn’t really hurting me, so I stayed quiet. I held on tight to the myth we teach little girls, that the feelings of boys and men are more important than keeping yourself safe. Eventually, he had scrolled to the beginning of my estimated 3,000 posts (I had NO friends) and found my Kik handle from an old, old screenshot I had posted. He began messaging me there, and that’s when I’d had enough, so I blocked him on everything. Then, all Hell broke loose.

Suddenly, hundreds of sock puppet accounts began following my account daily. My phone buzzed incessantly with filth. Presumed anonymity made him uglier. He followed my sister, but never interacted with her. He just lurked. I was a lonely, closeted 12 year old whose inner world was destroyed by a boy who felt that he deserved to be a part of it. It broke out of that world into the real one when he began telling people at school I was his girlfriend. I learned this when the jeering started, for Ben was, quite impressively, less popular than I because everyone, aside from myself a month or two prior, knew he was a huge creep. Why didn’t anyone warn me? They must have thought we deserved each other.

I remember crawling under my desk to cry after one particularly gross comment. I remember looking over my shoulder in public, at the library, grocery store, at my brother’s basketball games. Paranoid he would approach while I was either alone or with my family. I didn’t know which would be worse. I began grabbing the mail before anyone else could get to it, in case he’d gotten my address from the school’s registry. Suddenly, all I could do was abstain from surrendering the months of surveillance Ben had subjected me to. I became responsible for protecting him. I was explicitly not supposed to be on any social media, and the digital footprint I’d amassed by the time Ben came along would be enough to give my poor mother a heart attack. In the end, no difference would be made, because a punishment is a punishment. Ben’s stung like a fresh welt, still lapped at me like autonomous tongues on the brink of starvation. Why should my family know what Ben already did? The blame would inevitably circle back to me. Even with almost a decade of hindsight I can’t say I would’ve done anything differently. Between the cruelty of children and the ignorance of adults, I was left with no one to trust.