#collect your courage

[forwithinthishollowcrown]

Would anyone be up to see family trees for my House of the Dragon fics? Cause I have most of them planned out if anyone wants to see them.

I'll add the other families later but here's what I got so far!

Here's the family trees for "A Crown of Bones"

Velaryon Family Tree

Hightower Family Tree

Targaryen Family Tree

Now for "What A Dragon Wants"

Dragonstone - Targaryens (including future kids - Jaehaerys and Alysanne)

Red Keep - Targaryens (including future kids - minus Jaehaerys and Alysanne)

That's all for now!

[steppedoffaflight]

Sorry for dumping in your inbox, this is the only place I feel safe saying this because everyone else seems to love it but I haaaate Van's hair 🫣

Don’t be sorry, I am here to be the voice of long-haired-Van haters, and it is a duty I take on gladly!! You are safe here comrade ✊🏻

[designernishiki]

nishiki’s the type to roast the shit out of majima in the 90s for choosing to wear such tight pants and would laugh wildly when majima retorts saying “just wait. everyone’ll be wearing shit like this soon, i’m just ahead of the curve”. and then when the 2000s come around and skinny jeans are the new norm he sits in his office in the dark, head down on his desk, and cries. because he’s proven to be a failure even at the things he’s most passionate about– and worse, he got bested by goro majima

[jtownraindancer]

love thrifting because sometimes you'll stumble across a $200 silk shirt in perfect condition for just $2.

[irenicash]

Falling in love with my solitude ☕️

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Maybe you should listen to “dust bowl dance” by Mumford and sons and do the opposite of calm down

[leftistfeminista]

Gaza's women are just like any other women: they are wives, lovers, partners and feminine beings with desires, interests, drives and needs. The mocking of their lingerie by dozens of IDF soldiers isn't just a depraved and childish act; it's indicative of a dehumanization trend in which Palestinian women are viewed as entirely alien and otherized - that the presence of lingerie in their bedroom drawers is so shockingly surprising & unexpected, it is worth playing with and showing off as battlefield souvenir. I remember vividly how widespread lingerie stores were throughout Gaza City and how they were such a casual thing. In fact, I remember numerous instances of seemingly religious men with beards and the Quran playing in the background having or operating underwear and lingerie stores and stands, with their wives or female salesladies even helping them with customers.

These images by IDF troops will have long lasting consequences and will undermine de-escalation and de-radicalization efforts, particularly in a conservative society that views female-related spaces, items and topics as particularly sensitive and private/sacred. This isn't about worn out soldiers blowing off steam during battle; it is a sick lack of discipline & lackluster standards & operational security protocols. These images are deeply disrespectful and offensive and further alienate a civilian population that is paying the price for circumstances over which it has no control.

A Revolutionary Feminist Hip Hop collective released this diss track to the IDF. Inspired by the fierce lioness dignity of PFLP women commanders who have had their underwear publicly displayed. The IDF pigs have been hanging the lingerie of Marxist-Leninist women from the PFLP and DFLP to distance them from their Islamic comrades. Women from the secular leftist revolutionary organizations of Palestine have had their underwear especially targeted. The IOF had worked very hard to "otherize" Gaza as medieval, playing down Marxist-Leninists like PFLP who showed solidarity with Heather Heyer and BLM. They want to distance Gaza from western leftists. But women Marxists who dress like western women have their underwear paraded by IOF.

Yes it is mortifying for Marxist-Leninist PFLP commanders like Shireen Said to be waging guerilla war in the ruins of your homeland. While IOF pigs taunt that they can taste your juices on your stolen underwear. But she fights on with more determination in spite of it all. They can't take away her revolutionary dignity. And even if her panties are something very private, personal and intimate to the proud Marxist commander. It has been the IDF chauvinist pigs who have been more shamed before the world by their behavior.

Shireen Said's brave, dignified, courageous response to the IDF's attempt to humiliate her with her stolen panties, was turned into this hip hop anthem.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Building A Culture

Culture is defined by a collection of morals, ethics, traditions, customs and behaviours shared by a group of people.

Hierarchy and Social Structures

Within every culture, there is a hierarchy. Hierarchies are an important part of any culture, usually do ingrained that one within the culture wouldn't even question it. Hierarchy can be established either by age, gender or wealth and could even determine roles within their society. Sometimes hierarchy can may be oppressive and rigid whilst other times, ranks can intermingle without trouble. You should consider how these different ranks interact with one another and whether there are any special gestures or acts of deference one must pay to those higher than them. For example, the Khasi people of Meghalaya (Northern India), are strictly matrillineal. Women run the households, inheritance runs through the female line, and the men of the culture typically defer to their mothers and wives. Here are a few questions to consider:

How is a leader determined within the culture as a whole and the family unit?

Is the culture matriarchal? Patriarchal? Or does gender even matter?

How would one recognise the different ranks?

How would one act around somebody higher ranking? How would somebody he expected to act around somebody lower ranking?

Can one move socially? If not, why? If so, how?

Traditions and Customs

Traditions are a staple in any culture. These can be gestures or living life a certain way or to the way a certain person should look. Traditions are a personal detail to culture, they are what make it important. Tradition can dictate how one should keep their home, run their family, take care of their appearance, act in public and even determine relationship. Tradition can also be a double edged sword. Traditions can also be restrictive and allow a culture to push away a former member if they do not adhere to them, eg Traditional expectations of chastity led to thousands of Irish women being imprisoned at the Magdelene Laundries. Customs could be anything from how one treats another, to how they greet someone.

How important is tradition?

What are some rituals your culture undertakes?

What are some traditional values in your world? Does it effect daily life?

Are there any traditions that determine one's status?

Values and Opinions

Values and Opinions are the bread and butter of any culture. This is the way your culture sees the world and how they approach different life hurdles. These may differ with other cultures and be considered odd to outsiders, what one culture may value another may not and what opinion another holds, one may not. There will be historical and traditional reasons to why these values and opinions are held. Cultures usually have a paragon to which they hold their members to, a list of characteristics that they expect one to if not adhere to then aspire to. The Yoruba people value honesty, hard work, courage and integrity. Here are some questions to consider?

How important are these ethics and core values? Could somebody be ostracised for not living up to them?

What are some morals that clash with other cultures?

What does your culture precieved to be right? Or wrong?

What are some opinions that are considered to be taboo in your culture? Why?

Dress Code

For many cultures, the way somebody dresses can be important. History and ethics can effect how one is meant to be dressed such as an expectation of chastity, can impose strict modesty. While other cultures, put more importance on details, the different sorts of clothes worn and when or what colour one might wear. The Palestinian people (من النهر إلى البحر ، قد يكونون أحرارا) denoted different family ties, marriage status and wealth by the embroidery and detailing on their thoub.

Are there traditional clothes for your world? Are they something somebody wears on a daily basis or just on occasion?

Are there any rules around what people can wear?

What would be considered formal dress? Casual dress?

What would happen if somebody wore the wrong clothes to an event?

Language

Language can also be ingrained as part of a Culture. It can be a specific way one speaks or a an entirely different language. For example, in the Southern States of America, one can engage in a sort of double talk, saying something that sounds sweet whilst delivering something pointed. Bless their heart. I have a post on creating your own language here.

Arts, Music and Craft

Many cultures are known for different styles of dance, their artwork and crafts. Art is a great part of culture, a way for people to express themselves and their culture in art form. Dance can be an integral part of culture, such as céilí dance in Ireland or the Polka in the Czech Republic. Handicrafts could also be important in culture, such as knitting in Scottish culture and Hebron glass in Palestine. Music is also close to culture, from traditional kinds of singing such as the White Voice in Ukraine and the playing of certain instruments such as the mvet.

Food and Diet

The way a culture prepares or intakes or treats certain foods are important to a culture. In some cultures, there is a diet yo adhere to, certain foods are completely banned. With Jewish culture, pork is prohibited along with fish such as sturgeon, along with shellfish and certain fowl. Meat must also be prepared in a certain way and animal byproducts such as dairy, must never be created or even eaten around this meat. This is known as kosher. The way one consumes food is also important to culture. In some cultures, only certain people may eat together. Some cultures place important on how food is eaten. In Nigerian culture, the oldest guests are served first usually the men before the women. In Japanese culture, one must say 'itadakimasu' (I recieve) before eating. Culture may also include fasting, periods of time one doesn't intake food for a specific reason.

What are some traditional dishes in your world?

What would be a basic diet for the common man?

What's considered a delicacy?

Is there a societal difference in diet? What are the factors that effect diet between classes?

Is there any influence from other cuisines? If not, why not? If so, to what extent?

What would a typical breakfast contain?

What meals are served during the day?

What's considered a comfort food or drink?

Are there any restrictions on who can eat what or when?

Are there any banned foods?

What stance does your world take on alcohol? Is it legal? Can anybody consume it?

Are there any dining customs? Are traditions?

Is there a difference in formal meals or casual meals? If so, what's involved?

Are there any gestures or actions unacceptable at the dinner table?

How are guests treated at meals? If they are given deference, how so?

[theplotmage]

Fantasy Royal Hierarchy & Government Explained for Dummies

👑 The Royal Hierarchy:

High King/High Queen: The ultimate ruler of all the lands. Addressed as “Your Majesty.” They oversee multiple kingdoms and have the final say in all matters.

King/Queen: The rulers of individual kingdoms. Addressed as “Your Majesty.” They manage their own territories, make laws, and lead their armies into epic battles.

Prince/Princess: The children of the king and queen. Addressed as “Your Highness.” They’re next in line for the throne and often have their own mini-kingdoms to practice ruling.

Duke/Duchess: High-ranking nobles who control large regions within the kingdom. Addressed as “Your Grace.” They’re like the regional managers, handling local governance and military affairs.

Marquess/Marchioness: Nobles who oversee border territories. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” They’re responsible for defending the kingdom’s edges and often have a mix of military and administrative duties.

Earl/Countess: Nobles who manage smaller regions within the kingdom. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” They’re like the middle managers, ensuring everything runs smoothly in their areas.

Viscount/Viscountess: Nobles who assist earls and countesses. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” They’re like the assistant managers, helping with local governance and administration.

Baron/Baroness: The lowest rank of nobility. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” They control small areas of land and are responsible for local justice and order.

Lord/Lady: A general title for nobility. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” Lords and ladies can hold various ranks and responsibilities within the kingdom.

Government Structure:

🏛️ The Council: A group of high-ranking nobles and advisors who help the king or queen make important decisions. Think of them as the board of directors.

🧙 The Wizard: The royal advisor with magical powers. They provide wisdom, cast spells, and sometimes meddle in politics.

⚔️ The Knight Commander: The head of the royal army. They lead the knights and soldiers into battle and ensure the kingdom’s defense.

📜 The Chancellor: The head of the kingdom’s finances and administration. They manage the treasury, collect taxes, and oversee the kingdom’s bureaucracy.

🎭 The Bard: The kingdom’s storyteller and historian. They spread news, sing songs of heroism, and keep the royal family’s image sparkling.

Other Classes:

🌳 Elves: Graceful and wise, elves often serve as advisors, scholars, or elite warriors. They have a deep connection to nature and magic, making them invaluable in both court and battlefield.

🌾 Peasants: The backbone of the kingdom. They work the land, pay taxes, and sometimes get caught up in the schemes of the nobility. Despite their humble status, they can be heroes in their own right.

💀 Necromancers: Masters of death magic. They can raise the dead, drain life energy, and command undead minions. Often feared and misunderstood, they can be powerful allies or dangerous enemies.

📚 Scholars: Also known as sages, librarians, or loremasters. Scholars are the kingdom’s intellectuals, possessing encyclopedic knowledge. They study ancient texts, advise on matters of history and magic, and often uncover secrets that can turn the tide of events.

⚔️ Heroes: Brave individuals who embark on epic quests. They can come from any class—knights, peasants, elves, or even necromancers. Heroes are defined by their courage, skill, and willingness to face danger for the greater good.

🙏 Priests/Priestesses: Spiritual leaders who serve the gods and goddesses of the realm. They perform rituals, offer guidance, and sometimes wield divine magic. Addressed as “Father,” “Mother,” or “Your Holiness”.

🐉 Dragons: Sometimes pets, sometimes pests. Always epic. They can be guardians of treasure, wise advisors, or terrifying foes.

Servants and Other Castle Inhabitants:

Steward: Manages the household and estate. Addressed as “Master Steward.”

Chamberlain: Oversees the private chambers and personal needs of the lord or lady. Addressed as “Master Chamberlain.”

Marshal: In charge of the stables and the training of knights. Addressed as “Master Marshal.”

Cook: Prepares meals for the household. Addressed as “Master/Mistress Cook.”

Maid: Responsible for cleaning and maintaining the castle. Addressed as “Mistress Maid.”

Squire: A young noble training to become a knight. Addressed as “Squire.”

Falconer: Takes care of the hunting birds. Addressed as “Master Falconer.”

Gardener: Maintains the castle gardens. Addressed as “Master/Mistress Gardener.”

Where They Dwell:

🏰 Castle: A fortified structure built for defense and residence. It includes towers, walls, a keep, and often a moat. The castle is the main residence of the king or queen and their court.

🏛️ Court: The royal household and the place where the king or queen holds court. It includes the throne room, great hall, and various chambers for the nobles and advisors.

🏡 Manor: The residence of a noble, usually a lord or lady. It’s less fortified than a castle and focuses more on comfort and domestic life.

Pro Tips:

Royal Drama: Expect lots of intrigue, secret plots, and power struggles. It’s like a medieval reality show.

Magic: Always a wildcard. It can solve problems or create new ones.

Quests: Royals love sending heroes on epic quests. It’s their way of handling problems without getting their hands dirty.

---

Oh hey, you made it to the end! 🎉 I see you’re still here because you’re passionate about your book and maybe a bit stuck with worldbuilding. Don’t let that WIP sit around for another 5 YEARS! 🚀

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[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 6: Where…?

The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?

Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…

You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.

The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.

After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.

You’ve always been such a stupid girl.

After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.

You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.

You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.

It’s cute.

Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.

A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”

“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.

You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”

“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.

You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”

Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”

“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.

“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”

You nod.

“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”

You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.

“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.

“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.

You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.

“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.

“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.

“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.

“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.

You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”

The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.

You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”

“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.

“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.

You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”

“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“

“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ‘blah blah blah’ motion.

Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.

You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.

You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”

“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’

You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.

John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”

You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”

John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.

“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

Bonus:

“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.

“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.

You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.

The three of you fit together so well…

John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.

“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.

Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.

Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…

He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.

“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

Simon just grunts.

“She’s good for you.”

“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.

To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!

Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am

[forwithinthishollowcrown]

I got super inspired by @fromtheboundlesssea's idea of Aegon taking wives from Westeros to better connect the Kingdoms after taking them over and so decided to add my own twist to it. But anyways here we go!

Aegon I Targaryen (27)

Aegon is a rather cold individual, with his only true friend being his bastard half-brother Ory Baratheon. Whilst a great warrior he only views it as a necessity, he takes dislikes violence being seen as entertainment and rarely participates in tourneys. Although he had originally wished to remain faithful to his sister-wives, he understood the stability his reign would achieve as well as the urgency in marrying woman from the Great Houses—especially as his marriages to his sister-wives remain childless.

Visenya Targaryen (29)

The elder sister and first wife of King Aegon Targaryen, having wed as per the customs of Old Valyria. She is known as a stern woman who does not yield easily to whims of womanhood. She is considered by many to be an unforgiving woman, however, if a person gains her trust, she becomes fiercely protective. She is considered to be Aegon's greatest and most advisor and the true power behind his throne. It is often said Aegon married her for duty.

Rhaenys Targaryen (26)

The younger sister and second wife of King Aegon Targaryen, he went against tradition and took Rhaenys as his second wife. Rhaenys is the more openly kindhearted than her older siblings. However, she has a more impulsive nature that leads to some jealously when more wives are deemed necessary to bring stability to Aegon's reign. She is a great art of the arts, and when she isn't riding her dragon, she is spending time with her husband or composing poetry and songs.

Falia Greyjoy (24)

Falia is the granddaughter of Harren the Black and a skilled sailor in her own right. She is often seen in the company of Visenya, helping advise her on the difference between the Ironborn's ships and those of Westeros and how to best use that to their advantage as Aegon begins his reign as King over an entire continent.

Jocelyn Tully (23)

Jocelyn is the eldest daughter of the new Lord Paramount of the Trident. She is a confident young woman who was handpicked by Queen Rhaenys. She enjoys hawking and hunting, is often seen racing Falia on horseback. She is often seen in the company of Rhaenys, although it's speculated that it's more for the woman to watch one another than a want for companionship.

Alys Arryn (22)

Alys is the cousin of the last King of the Mountain and the Vale. She is a very blunt about how different each Kingdom is from each other and often advises Rhaenys and Visenya on how they can turn these differences into strengths. She smiles easily and tends to keep herself in the background, she is cordial with Aegon's other Queens.

Lyarra Stark (19)

Lyarra is the eldest daughter of the former King in the North. She is usually found tending to the weirwood tree sapling that she brought from the North with her. She is the more seclusionary of Aegon's Queens, although a pleasant woman who greatly enjoys songs and it is greatly believed by many that she is a greenseer. She has a more neutral stance within the Royal Household but often spends her time with Visenya.

Shiera Lannister (18)

Shiera is the niece of the last Lannister King of the Rock. She is charming and of an ambitious nature, she is often seen in the company of Jocelyn or Alerie. As a Lannister she was raised to believe she deserved nothing but the best, so the idea of her as the wife of a king and possible mother of to his future heir soon became quite appealing is exactly the thing she believes she deserves.

Alerie Tyrell (17)

The youngest daughter of the new Lord Paramount of the Reach. Alerie is the youngest of King Aegon’s wives and is often seen as the more neutral party, she is greatly fond of reading and is often seen with Shiera pouring over the books in the library. She is often referred as the "littlest sister" by the other wives and occasionally her husband as well. She shows little to no interest in having children or in trying to attract her husband's attention. She is viewed as the most financially intelligent of Aegon's Queens.

[veritasangel]

if we're being honest

⋆ ˚｡⋆ any pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none ↣ just soft simon {wc: 1.5k}

There was a dating app on Simon’s phone, he hated the thing but hadn’t uninstalled it yet.

It usually all went the exact same with everyone who messaged him. They’d ask Simon some shallow questions and then instantly begin flirting. Sure, maybe that was what it was for, but it felt so forced to Simon and he never had an urge to flirt back.

He’d keep the conversation steady and at least try to get to know them. But then the sexual remarks would begin almost instantaneously. Maybe others would be okay with that, but not Simon.

He could hardly stand such topics with people he knew, let alone sexting a stranger, he never got the appeal. It was very clear that most of the ones talking to him had focused on the ‘soldier’ part in his bio and ignored everything else. 

He had actually been meaning to delete his profile because it clearly wasn’t working, but as he opened the app to do so, your profile popped up.

You looked pretty, a sweet smile too. He couldn't help himself and clicked on one of the other photos available, one of you smiling with a cat. He tilted his head as he looked at the giant fluffy cat.

'Hmm, might be a slight problem one day' Simon thought to himself as he glanced at his dog beside him. He was already getting ahead of himself at that smile of yours, alone.

He sighed, trying to shake away the thought of messaging you. He had opened the app to delete it, but there was something about you that had his brain, or maybe his heart, screaming at him to just go for it one more time.

Simon contemplated for a good few seconds but who was he kidding? He knew he would end up messaging you.

The first conversation with you was a breeze, you were throwing all sorts of jokes his way and honestly for a moment he thought Soap was pranking him because your humour was almost the same.

He’d later learned that you were nervous so the jokes felt like a better icebreaker and honestly it made him feel better to know you were nervous as well. The messages between the two of you were more like two friends getting to know one another, there wasn’t a hint of anything romantic even after you guys had been talking for a little while.

And maybe that’s what Simon wanted.

Falling for a friend felt much more real to him and if that friend was you, well he liked the idea even more. You were caring, funny, intelligent and honestly everything about you was what he wanted in a partner. You made him feel comfortable, even asking at the start what topics were out of bounds and as a man with a lot of trauma, that was a huge sigh of relief.

Eventually he got the courage to ask if you would want to go on a date with him, and thankfully you said yes.

Simon picked a nice restaurant a good distance between the both of you so neither one had to travel far. Everything leading up to it was perfect, but right as he was about to leave, he had a slight panic.

He had to call Johnny and try not to let it turn into a full blown panic attack. Soap kept him calm, talked him through it, even suggested that it'd be best if Simon probably cancelled the date. That last part wasn't really what he wanted to hear though, Simon didn’t want to cancel, he wanted to see you so badly. Needed to.

Eventually, after a long conversation, he reluctantly agreed with Soap, getting off the phone to send you the dreaded text.

Sorry, but I’m gonna have to cancel or maybe reschedule tonight's date. I think it’s the going out to the restaurant part that's setting me off and I just can't do it right now :/ Again, really sorry.

He puts his phone down and he already knows how this is going to go. You’ll think he’s a dick, send an annoyed response back and block him before he can explain...but instead his phone starts ringing.

"Si, you alright?"

He just takes in the soft sound of your voice as he takes a deep breath and collects his thoughts.

"Uh yeah-" he mumbles, "I'm really so sorry if I've wasted your time, you probably got ready and everything and I-"

You cut him off mid ramble before he can overthink anymore, "It's okay. "Talk to me, are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine, feeling a little better, I just-" Simon begins, "Just had a little panic, it’s not you, don’t worry. I just haven’t done anything out and about in a while, I think the restaurant was a little daunting. I really apologise."

"You really don't need to apologise Si. I'm sorry you're feeling that way." you say softly, worrying about him over the phone and Simon knows it, can hear it in your tone.

"I'll be fine, love, really. Just wanted you to know it’s not a cop out. Swear I really wanted to finally meet you. Properly."

"Well I don’t want to push any boundaries so feel free to say no. But maybe I could still come over?" you say tentatively, "We don't need to go out to some expensive restaurant, could just be comfortable at your place...If you want of course, no pressure."

“Really?” Simon asks, hope emanating as he listened to your words.

“Yeah, I mean, honestly home stuff is cosier anyway.”

“I don’t have anything in the fridge.” he says, almost as if he’s trying to dissuade you. He doesn't want to of course, but he just thinks for a moment that maybe he's imagining you.

“Didn’t you say there’s a nice Vietnamese place near yours that delivers? I’m down for that.” you suggest.

“Really?” Simon repeats, an actual grin on his face now and he's thankful you can't see him.

“Yeah, why not?”

And that was that, Simon was already smiling to himself, thankful to everything that he hadn't deleted that stupid app when he was going to. Even his dog gave him a look of sorts and he just laughed,

She might be the one, little guy.

When you turned up, Simon absolutely forgot how to speak, all nerves and blushes as you hugged him. But it was good nerves, and ones that died down relatively quickly once he'd shown you around and spoken to you a little.

Honestly he found himself staring a little too often and had to keep reminding himself to not look too much like an obsessed weirdo. The evening flew by pretty quickly, you guys ordered your food, eating it in front of the tv. It was a real casual setting but he liked it and you did too.

The conversation was just as relaxed in person and even his dog liked you, snuggling up against your leg during the evening, not even sparing Simon a glance.

Damn traitor

“I’m glad you called.” Simon begins nervously, as he looks over at you, “You know, as in, instead of thinking I was an ass.”

“An ass for what?” you ask, confused. One of your hands absentmindedly rests on his arm and it's a feeling Simon could get used to, one that felt natural.

“Well...for potentially cancelling.” 

“Simon, you were anxious. If anyone has been mad at you for cancelling for that reason before, then they’re the asshole, not you.”

And he feels so lucky to have met you, grateful he went through with messaging you that day. The warmth of your presence, the natural ease of your conversation, and the genuine concern you showed meant so much to him.

This wasn’t just a random fleeting encounter. It felt like the beginning of something real, which is exactly what he wanted.

As the night grew late, you both found yourselves laughing at a silly movie, hands wandering slightly, but not too much. Honestly the two of you were so comfortable, anyone would think you were already 5 years deep into a relationship.

Your laughter was infectious, and for the first time in a long while, Simon felt a sense of peace wash over him. The worries that usually plagued his mind seemed distant, almost insignificant. Eventually, you both fell into a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's company. His dog, fast asleep at your feet and a sure sign of approval if there ever was one.

“Tonight was really nice,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, it was,” Simon agreed, his voice equally soft. He glanced over at you, your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the TV. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

You smiled, a warm, genuine smile that almost made him blush again. “Anytime, Si. I mean it.”

“Can we do this again?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

“I’d like that,” you replied, your smile reassuring him.

And as the night eventually came to an end, Simon was laying in bed, a content smile on his face as he finally deleted that damned app, but this time for a good reason.

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[street-smarts00]

Weirdest Place

Spencer Reid x gen neutral!reader

Summary: The team finds out you and Spencer have been dating during a night out.

WC: 1.1k

A/N: this is yet another fic based on an episode of friends, specifically a scene from the blackout episode but i added a fun twist lol

Tags: conversations about sex but not smut, established relationship between r & reid, consumption of alcohol

After the team was finished at the BAU they all went out to a local bar for drinks. As the night went on JJ and Hotch left to be at home with their kids. With their boss gone and the tipsiness from their drinks, the topic of conversation got more and more inappropriate.

“A boat?” Rossi asked

“Yes,” Derek confirmed

“A boat?” Emily spoke this time.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Derek asked, slightly offended.

Emily raised her hands in defense, “It’s not that we don’t believe you.”

“It just seemed like your weirdest place would be a bit more adventurous based on how you brought it up,” Rossi voiced.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, “and a boat isn’t adventurous?”

“No it is,” Penelope chuckled before reaching for her drink. Of course, she’d already heard about Derek’s nautical escapades.

Derek directed his attention back to Emily, “And what about you? What’s your weirdest place?”

She leaned back in her seat with a tinge of embarrassment she tried to hide with smugness. “That’s classified,”

Rossi and Derek cringed at Emily’s diversion.

“Oh god,” Rossi chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.

“Do I even wanna know?” Derek asked half joking.

Emily shrugged instead of answering. Derek decided he was better off not pushing Emily to share her story. He then brought his attention to the man across from him.

“What about you, pretty boy?”

Spencer’s head darted to him with raised eyebrows. “Me?”

“You got a weirdest place?”

“I- um.”

His ears started to turn a shade of crimson and he stuttered on his words, or lack thereof since he was caught off guard.

“It’s probably like a library or something,” Rossi jokes, earning a bright laugh from Derek.

Penelope set her drink down, “don’t make him say it if he doesn’t- “

“Actually it was.”

Everyone froze and turned to Spencer.

Emily was the first to speak, “What?”

Spencer shifted in his seat while the courage he had before started to dwindle. His face was now officially turning red.

“Me and um- someone were at the library because I was showing her it’s Edgar Allen Poe collection. Then at some point we ended up in … um the second floor bathroom.”

“Oh my god,” Penelope giggled before placing her hand on her mouth in shock.

“I can’t believe I was right,” Rossi commented.

“I can’t believe Spencer Reid was getting freaky in a library,” Derek said with a humorous grin.

“Shut up,” Spencer squeaked in a high pitched voice.

He hoped the topic of conversation would quickly be dropped so he didn’t have to reveal too much about his love life. But he suspected that wouldn’t happen once you came back to the table.

You and Spencer had started dating a few months prior and wanted to keep things to yourselves. You both intended to figure out the beginning of your relationship without the eyes of your friends.

“The line for the bathroom was so long,” you complained as you approached the table and sat down next to Spencer. “What did I miss?”

“Oh we never heard Y/N’s place,” Penelope excitedly pointed out.

You looked at her confused, “What place?”

“I have no clue how we got here but they all started talking about the weirdest places they’ve had sex,” Emily explained.

“Wow. Well, when I’m done I need to hear all of yours,” you pointed your glass in a motion towards all of them before drinking the last sip.

“I usually don’t venture outside the bedroom but out of the few times I have I think there’s two tied for first place.”

“What’s one of them?”

“Library.”

Silence fell over the group. Spencer’s stomach dropped to the floor at your answer. His face turned cherry red and his eyes remained frozen on the table in front of him.

You on the other hand were baffled at the reaction from your friends.

“What?”

While your eyes scanned the group you were met with relatively neutral expressions that didn’t match the growing tension in the air. All of them looked as if they wanted to say something, but not one of them was ready to speak.

Embarrassment and regret were creeping their way towards you in silence. Your body tensed up and you folded your arms in front of you.

“Come on guys, it's not that weird. It’s not like we were in an aisle, we were in the bathroom,” you tried to defend yourself.

That sentence seemed to spark something in the group. Their body language started to relax but still had a bit of hesitation. They all knew at this point, but they wanted you to confirm it.

“What floor?”

You followed the voice to Emily “Excuse me?”

“What floor was the bathroom on?”

You couldn’t wrap your head around her question.

“Why does that matter?”

“It does, which floor?” Penelope questioned this time.

“Second I think,” you hesitated, still confused.

“Oh my god!” Penelope squealed. “You guys are sleeping together?”

With your eyes wide, face hot, and heart pounding, you stared at her. Trying to figure out how a story like this was one they already heard. You forgot until now that they were already playing this game before you got back.

Turning to the side you playfully smacked Spencer’s arm. “You told them that?”

He gaped at you and grabbed his arm. Face still red of course now accompanied with a crack in his voice. “I didn’t think you were gonna tell them. I thought you would have talked about the other time.”

“Why would I tell them that?” You said in a quieter tone.

“What other time?” Derek interrupted, filled with curiosity.

Rossi pipped in next, “you said two places were tied for weirdest, what’s the other place?”

You and Spencer went quiet. You looked at each other before returning your gaze to the group.

“I think this is a great time to get a refill,” you grabbed your glass and stood up. “Spencer, coming with?”

He quickly scrambled to stand up, “Absolutely.”

The two of you made your way to the bar as your friends all started murmuring.

“So, you didn’t want to tell them you had sex on a plane?” He asked with a slight smirk.

“No, of course not!” You squealed which earned a laugh from him.

“Eventually they would’ve found out we’re dating and I didn’t want them to figure out it was on the jet,” you explained.

“It’s not like any of them were there,” he said before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“I still don’t wanna get fired.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

Never say never || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request I love it!! @ghostlythinggoingaround

Warnings: swearing, sofia is insecure abt herself. other than that, nothing really

Word count: 1,317

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

"Who are you looking at?" JJ asked, his curiosity piqued as he followed Sofia's intense gaze across the room. His eyes landed on Rafe, who stood by the pool table, exuding his usual air of arrogance. JJ let out a loud sigh and turned back to Sofia, concern etched on his face.

"Sof, you gotta stop," he said, frowning deeply. Sofia looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, her hands mechanically wiping the glasses clean behind the bar. "Stop with what?" she asked, her voice tinged with feigned ignorance.

"Thinking you have a chance with Rafe," JJ replied bluntly. Sofia's hands paused for a brief moment before she resumed her task, her shoulders tensing. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that—well, I did, but—" JJ stammered, his voice trailing off as he noticed the sadness clouding her eyes.

He sighed heavily, "Rafe doesn't do relationships, you know that, right? He'll string you along and then break your heart. Besides, he's a jackass." JJ scoffed, his eyes flicking back to Rafe, who was now laughing loudly with a group of friends.

"Who's a jackass?" a familiar voice chimed in from behind them. JJ and Sofia turned to find Sarah, John B, and Pope approaching the bar. Sarah settled into a bar stool beside JJ, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Your brother," JJ stated, his tone flat. Sarah snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "He's worse, trust me," she said, her eyes shifting to Sofia with a knowing look. "Don't tell me you still like Rafe?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with incredulity.

Sofia swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sof—" Sarah began, but Sofia cut her off. "Don't. JJ's already said enough," she sighed, placing the last glass back on the rack before leaning against the counter, her posture defeated. "I just don't understand why he doesn't do relationships."

"Commitment issues, probably," Pope suggested, his eyes following the group's collective gaze towards Rafe, who was in conversation with Topper. "He's got way more issues—" John B started, but Sofia shushed him urgently.

"Stop, he's coming this way!" she whisper-yelled, quickly pretending to be busy as Rafe sauntered over. Rafe walked past them all without a second glance, his attention solely focused on the bartender at the far end of the counter. Sofia took a deep breath, mustering her courage as she approached him, ready to offer her service.

But just as she reached him, Rafe glanced her way, his expression indifferent, and turned to the other bartender to place his order. Sofia's heart sank, and she turned back to her friends, who were watching her with sympathetic eyes.

"See? He's an asshole, Sof. Don't waste your time on him," Sarah advised, her voice softening as she watched Sofia's sullen expression. "I guess," Sofia murmured, her gaze lingering on Rafe for a moment longer.

~

"What time do you get off? I was thinking we could have a fire tonight and have drinks at the chateau," John B suggested, leaning casually against the bar. "I'll be off at seven, and that sounds great," Sofia replied with a bright smile. The others chimed in with their agreement, the excitement of the plan evident in their voices.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sofia noticed you standing by the counter, catching her attention. "I'll be back," she said to her friends, making her way over to you with a welcoming smile. "Hey, can I get you something?" Sofia asked, her eyes meeting yours as you lifted your gaze from your phone, a friendly smile on your lips.

"Hi! Can I just get a Long Island Iced Tea, please?" you replied. "Sure, coming right up," she said, her smile widening as she turned to prepare the drink. As she mixed the ingredients, Sofia couldn't help but steal glances at you. Your natural beauty seemed effortless, and she felt a pang of envy. Your perfectly styled hair, flawless skin, and confident demeanor made her acutely aware of her own insecurities.

"That's a gorgeous necklace you got there," Sofia remarked, her eyes lingering on the shimmering pendant that caught the light with every movement. You smiled warmly, your fingers instinctively reaching up to toy with the delicate chain. Sofia's gaze remained fixed, silently estimating its worth and admiring its intricate design.

"Thanks, my boyfriend gave it to me for my birthday," you chuckled, a note of fondness in your voice. Sofia nodded with a smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of envy. She turned back to prepare your drink, but you called out, "Babe, did you want anything?"

Sofia's eyes widened in surprise as she turned and saw Rafe standing beside you, his arm protectively draped over your shoulder. "Whatever you're getting," he replied smoothly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You smiled at Sofia, who struggled to mask her shock and disbelief.

"Can I get another one, please?" you asked, your tone polite and cheerful. Sofia's eyes darted between you and Rafe, her heart sinking as she realized the truth: your boyfriend was Rafe, the guy who supposedly never did relationships. The realization hit her hard, leaving her momentarily stunned.

Rafe noticed the awkward silence and turned his attention to Sofia, who still held your drink. "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a hint of impatience.

Your eyes widened in embarrassment. "Don't be rude," you whispered to him, trying to diffuse the tension. Snapping out of her daze, Sofia mumbled, "Sorry," and placed your drink on the counter with a clatter, spilling some of its contents in her haste.

As she prepared the next drink, Sofia couldn't help but eavesdrop on your conversation with Rafe. "Do you wanna do anything this afternoon?" Rafe asked, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. "Got any ideas?" you chuckled, resting your hands on his arms, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"Could take the boat out and have dinner?" he suggested, causing your smile to widen with excitement. "That sounds great—" you began, but were interrupted by a loud thud. "There's your drink," Sofia said, pushing the glass toward you with a bit more force than intended. You thanked her and reached for your card, but Rafe quickly swatted your hand away.

"Don't even," Rafe said playfully, making you sigh jokingly. "Rafe—" you started, but he cut you off, chuckling. "You know to just put it on my tab." Sofia's annoyance bubbled over, her fingers tapping rapidly on the counter in frustration. "Just put it on my tab, Cameron," Rafe repeated, not even glancing at her as he took both drinks.

“Thanks again,” you said with a polite smile to Sofia before walking off with Rafe. From behind the bar, Sofia watched with a mix of emotions as you settled onto Rafe’s lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. Laughter bubbled up between you, triggered by something one of your friends said, a scene that ignited jealousy and heartache in Sofia.

She exhaled shakily before returning to her friends, attempting to distract herself from the sight. Unbeknownst to Sofia, her friends had witnessed the entire scene. “Did you not know?” Sofia asked Sarah, wiping down the bar in an effort to focus her thoughts. Sarah hesitated before responding, her expression conflicted. “I did…” she trailed off.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sofia’s voice quivered with confusion and hurt, her brows furrowing. “I didn’t know they were together!” Sarah’s voice was defensive yet apologetic. “I thought they were just hooking up, but I guess not…” She shrugged, a look of regret crossing her face.

“How long?” Sofia finally spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. Sarah hesitated, meeting Sofia’s gaze for a fleeting moment before answering, “About a month, now?” Sofia fell silent, her lips pressed tightly together as she struggled to maintain her composure. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them spill over.

“Shit. They’re even matching clothes and everything,” Pope muttered under his breath, the disbelief evident in his voice. His words were abruptly silenced by a firm slap from John B on his chest.

“Sofia…” JJ began, his tone soft and filled with concern. But Sofia, determined not to let her emotions show, dismissed him with a wave of her hand. A solitary tear had slipped down her cheek, betraying her true feelings, which she quickly wiped away.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They look good together anyway,” she added, casting a fleeting glance at you and Rafe. The sight of you both seemed to sting, but she tried to mask it.

Clearing her throat, Sofia straightened up, striving to maintain her composure. “I’m just gonna go back to work,” she said, her voice steadying as she turned away. With a final, determined breath, she walked off, leaving her friends behind, trying to hold herself together.

[treecakes]

i also successfully navigated a conversation with another anthro major today :)

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)

This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.

As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.

TW: violence, monsters

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]

You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.

"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.

You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.

Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.

Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?

You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.

There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.

"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.

You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.

Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.

After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.

The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.

A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.

Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.

"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!

Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."

The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.

"You're not him, are you? But then again..."

"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."

"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.

"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"

"The exit to...where? You're outside."

You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"

"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."

Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.

"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."

You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.

Something just grabbed you.

Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.

You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.

Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.

The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.

You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.

"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."

The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.

"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.

Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.

"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."

"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"

"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 

You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 

You just want to sleep.

You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 

"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 

His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.

Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 

"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.

Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.

"What do you mean?"

"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"

"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."

A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.

"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 

The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 

"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."

As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 

A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 

"Found you."

The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.

How will you get out of this?