#our king is blessing us with so much content like this

[schumi-nadal]

Roger Federer - Former tennis player & model

[thesirenisles]

Mars’ Warriors

𓃭 aries 𓃭

✨💥planet energy, mythology & astrology obsvs✨💥

Aries Sun, Aries Rising, Venus, Mars

mars dominant, mars in the 1st house

Mars ruled.

Mars- Ascendant aspects, Sun-Mars Aspects

Strong Mars placements, Aries Stellium

✨💥“Her enemies had fallen. Sanguine showers painted the Earth a ghastly ruby hue. Wailing cries of defeat created a victorious symphony of which she savored…. cackling up at the heavens.”𓃭✨💥

Do not steal any of my original work & writing. Photos are either from Pinterest or collaged by me. All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles | Leave a tip if you enjoy!

✨Majestic Martian,

Ruled by the blood-red planet of Mars, you blaze a path on this Earth with an unwavering air of confidence.

✨💥Regal is the word that comes to mind.

Never needing reassurance, you literally believe you have already won before ever touching the battlefield.

Mars has blessed you with an innate, instinctual battlelust... an energy that inspires some, frightens others, but entrances ALL.

While everyone else contemplates... you act. You win the battle and even after you've won... you're still not satisfied.

✨💥You crave the next battlefield.. another King to slay.. another display of your hard-earned glory and greatness.

Even though January starts our calendar year, March begets Spring, the season symbolizing the beginning of life. Is it no surprise this month is named after your planetary ruler and the beginning of the zodiac?

Mars the planet is named after the Roman God of war and battlelust (Ares to the Greeks, Sekhmet to Ancient Egyptians) The Greeks deemed him the spirit of battle and child of Zeus and Hera.

With this energy, you have a natural, primal and intrinsic ability to tap into pure... red... RAGE. ✨💥 𓃭

While it sounds a bit frightening, this manifests as an incredibly useful gift in so many avenues of life. A Martian or Aries will always be ambitiously setting goals, achieving them, and writing more before they can catch a breath.

✨💥You have the spirit of a winner. You do not even fathom the thought of failure.

You move through life aware of the power of every single person in your immediate space, ready for someone to challenge the crown that you bled for.

This may be due to having literal experiences being attacked, bullied, and just… bothered. Your energy is akin to Plutonian/Scorpio, whose ancient ruler is Mars.

The element Fire clarifies and you are Cardinal Fire! You're literally blazing the trail. 🔥

A natural debater and concise communicator, you often find yourself defending yourself and others. (Always going to clear the room! Esp. to defend the ones you love. I love this for you all).

You have probably been admonished for your bold nature and aggressive style of communicating by adults, teachers, and maybe even... employers.

✨💥But, you are just being real. Your energy thrives in authenticity.

You hate being given orders and have probably fought hard to get into a career with relative freedom... this could manifest as entrepreneurism or content creating.

✨💥 She who mauls... 𓃭

The Mythology of Mars

While attempting to gain understanding of the energy of this sign and pIanet, I discovered the very simliar origin story in the Ancient Egyptian, Sekhmet, ("She who is powerful"). The goddess is depicted with the head of a female lion and ruled the desert sun, war, total chaos, and healing. I do want to clarify. This is not a male lion with the extravagant afro (symbol of Leo.)

Sekhmet manifests as a female lion because they are the fierce protector and huntress within the pack or pride, literally embodying primal female rage.

A female lion mauling is much like aftermath of a Martian or Aries temper explosion. It's not always a defensive energy, but a prowling one where the Martian sets its' sights on an easy mark.. or prey.

This could be a person or a task.

Egyptian mythology states she was created from the literal wrath of the sun God, Ra.

✨💥As the story goes:

Disappointed with the ungrateful treachery of men, Ra conspired with Set, God of Chaos to harness and manifest the wrath in which he felt... creating the embodiment of female rage, Sekhmet.

The stunning maiden possessing the spirit of war, is unleashed upon the people of Ancient Egypt, mauling anyone in her path until the waters of the great river ran...red.

Sekhmet was insatiable and her bloodlust lasted days.. She literally maniacally drank and gorged herself on the blood of the people. (Think: Akasha, Queen Mother of Vampires, in "Queen of the Damned")

Ra attempted to stop her, but being a daughter of the Sun... his powers had no effect. This drunken slaughter lasted until Thoth (Mercury to the Romans, Hermes to the Greeks) God of Trickery finally convinced her to drink wine under the guise of blood. The Goddess drank and fell asleep, calming the spirit.

✨💥I believe this is a valuable lesson anyone with dominant Mars energy has already learned quite a few times. You must utilize caution and strategy before rushing in.

✨💥THE ROMAN CIRCUS

On one hand, this is bad betch, rockstar, DIVA energy that can cosmically entrance the senses.

On the other... it can get a bit delusional…

✨💥 When I think of Aries energy, I think of the Roman Circus... (The Circus Maximus: Chariot Races, Gladiators, Live Animals, and Drunken Splendor.)

The event lured in many..under the guise of a celebration and glory. In reality, it was a grotesque sacrificial blood offering.

✨💥 To win the Roman Circus... was to suffer and harm many others. So, was it really a win at all?

This can be applied to the life struggles for some Martians or Aries who pursue a person or thing that is projecting a false but glorious image with everything they’ve got.

✨💥 I once knew an Aries sun who would always fall into silent competition with others girls because of just ONE Libra male in our social circle.

The Libra was a shameless flirt and seemingly a ladies man. However, he was very nonchalant towards the Aries sun... unresponsive to her direct energy. (Air sign men🙄)

She attempted numerous times, throwing very unsubtle hints sprinkled with arrogance. She knew that she was beautiful and wondered why he did not respect it.

✨💥 As beautiful as she was, she could not take the rejection. Aries HATES to lose. She needed to win.

Unbeknownst to the Aries sun, the guy was actually in the closet! Hiding his sexuality, he would only show his interest to women he knew weren’t interested... It was all a show and he was only projecting for societal benefits!

I share this story because I see this re-enacted amongst Martian and Aries women too often.

✨💥 In the spirit of battle, you set your sights upon who you deem as the most masculine man/woman or the one with the most options... because you want them to choose you above all.

You need to win. He becomes your Roman Circus. 𓃭✨💥

(Think: ariana grande & other people’s man; 1H mars 👀)

This happens to Martian men too… often rushing into a woman’s life before reading the fine print… only to have a cataclysmic collision of short-lived passion. 🫣

While I do applaud healthy competition, the female Martian complex often leads towards the Aries woman being trapped in a mothering role supporting a loser she only got because he used to be “the hottest guy in her area and everyone wanted him". (Giving major: Peaked in highschool mental vibes🤮)

✨💥You have a natural need to asess and rank a room according to power... or perceieved power. Badly aspected or unevolved Mars & even Pluto can make you exert force over those you deem weak.

However, those you perceive as powerful or heavily sought after seem to capture all of your romantic attention.

You want to conquer the most manly man and be the fierce queen at his side.

However, this desire comes from a need to feel glory. So people can become trophies… i.e. trophy wife or trophy husband.

HOWEVER, The problem with a "100% manly man… Toughest Hood Niiga… Greek God" archetype is that most men with these aesthetics did nothing to really gain them because they’re born handsome or are literally aware of the power of their own aesthetic!

Because your assertive energy is so direct and rivals that of a man at times… you can attract those pretty boys who are benefiting from male-pretty privilege & female sexual projection (i.e. the hottest and buffest guys girls assume will be the most sexual etc. NATE JACOBS CORE LOL)

✨💥Always remember… a less capable man is going to overcompensate!

He’ll be a knock-off designer... a fake… a fraud... and I am sorry to say, but I feel the biggest risks are (an unevolved Aries😭, Libra, Sags, GEMINI or Leo men...)

Not all of them, but they do have the tendency to exaggerate or be performative with their manhood. Pisces does this too, but they are not fooling an aries LOL.

✨💥This can become that gross Mommy and Son energy I mentioned. Eventually... if they are lucky.. the Martian can snap out of their bloodlust daze to realize this guy was just acting... Any additional mental manipulations is what can create a toxic bond which is draining over time.

This relationship dynamic will be fun at first but it fizzles out when you realize he has the maturity of a child!

✨💥Run away from the man who puts on the show, ladies! It's what I call.. the Roman Circus.

With this energy, you can definitely be a bit overbearing when you are trying to show that you care. This is never minded too much by those who know your fiercly loving heart.

✨💥 You are a queen! Remember that what’s meant for you does not always have to be won over. It can manifest organically!

You are multi-faceted. Embrace diplomacy and take time to contemplate decisions like your sister sign, Libra.

Your Martian sibling, Scorpio also teaches the lesson of patiently waiting and observing the situation before action.(No one is plotting like a Scorpio Mars 👀)

However, a Martian never stays down for long and always bounces back improved from life’s perils!✨💥

✨💥 Aries vs. Scorpio

Scorpio is a water sign, balancing out the fiery energy creating warm and inviting waves to lure you in.

Aries is a fire sign finding natural comfort in its sizzling Martian ruler and Solar energies... VA VA VOOM HOT..

✨💥The spirit of war lays waste to the lands and the God of the Underworld waits patiently to collect the souls.💥✨

𓃭

I believe Aries are our public leaders, change makers, warriors, and fierce inspiration. Their protective maternal energy is inherent and divine.

Sekhmet was equally feared and adored!

The likeness of the goddess can literally be found today in Egyptian art and architecture guarding the Pharoahs.

Much like Sekhmet and Ares, both Martian signs are an unstoppable force once in motion.

✨💥In the 1st house, Mars defines the personality and appearance. A perfect example is the feline-faced Nicki Minaj (Mars in the 1st house) on the left can be seen in what appears to be a Sekhmet inspired headress with lioness ears.

On the right… her Roman Circus🫣🙊😂(other 1H Mars women are Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande. Both have infamous love history!!)

✨💥I can literally hear Nicki’s iconic maniacal laughter… it legit sounds like what I’d imagine of blood-thirsty, Sekhmet after she’s slayed a Kingdom!

This can get a little egotistical… but she IS a queen. 🤷🏾‍♀️

I love my Martians though. You guys are so inspiring and honestly age like fine wine!! The youthful fire within you never really stops burning.

✨💥Be sure you are a productive force and not destroying all that lays in your path!

Thank you for reading! Wishing you blessings! ✨💥

@thesirenisles | masterlist | Enjoyed? Support!🧜🏾‍♀️

[livelaughlovesubs]

Do you write about michael from whb? If its fine with you, can you write a hc what his going to be as a yandere? Reader could be anything but i prefer if they our normal mc ^^

Oh, alright, so yandere Michael with ra-on as reader? Sure then, I’ll gladly oblige! Sorry that you had to wait so long, but now that the new event came out, I have a pretty good idea how I want to portray him.

Yandere Michael

Warning: dark content, disturbing topics, blood, gore, obsessive behaviour

I headcanon him, like many other angels, to be a total psycho when in love. That’s pretty much canon. The question is just, how crazy would he be?

- he’d never blame you for all your deeds, it’s always the fault of another

- in other words he is doing everything he can to delude himself into thinking this is alright, it’s not against the rules he set for himself

- god wanted him to love you, it was destined to happen

- “you were just so bright, and there was no way to explain it, it must be gods will”

- that’s what he’d say to himself among other things

- if it wasn’t clear enough, he’d kill for you, even his own brothers, except lucifer

- he’d go down to hell and declare war on your favourite king/ noble, his excuse? They were taking you away from him

- you could stop that though, by finally putting him on a leash

- no matter what you did to him, he’d still love you unconditionally, his love would never falter like his faith

- you could do the most unspeakable things to him, treat him as if he was a mere toy, as if he was nothing more than a pretty face

- and he’d thank you for your attention, greeting you with a smile brighter than his halo

- ruin him, mind and body, bruise him or break his leg, he doesn’t care, as long as you keep touching him and give him your full attention

- honestly, you could make him into a devil and he wouldn’t care, rip his wings off and make the blessing of god leave him

- it would make him have an internal crisis, since he isn’t supposed to be like this, but he’d put the blame on someone else

- this man is so prideful a no narcissistic, he only cares about his own feelings, god, lucifer, and now you too

- which is why he doesn’t care about anything else, as long as he gets to feel good and ‘loved’ (even though you are brutalising him) he’s content

- the worst type of of yandere, would totally kidnap you, even if the punishment is amputation

- he is one hell of a nuisance, there is literally no other way to deal with him than locking him up

- otherwise he’ll just keep attacking hell, or kidnap you, or kill other species, no matter how you reprimand him. He got away with it for eons, what makes you think you can change him?

- it’s not like he loves you anyway, he only loves you because you are a replacement for god and his dear brother, only because you are as kind and as forgiving as they used to be

- oh you naive child

- if you don’t lock him up and keep him away, he’ll eventually annihilate the devils, unless luci steps in that is

- but he’ll definitely kidnap you, hats so obvious! He’ll want to keep you all to himself, he’d even make alternations to your body to keep you from leaving

- he has trust issues, remember? All because of god and his lovely older brother

- words alone aren’t enough, he needs to know you can’t leave him, like you mentally and physically can’t

- if you don’t want that, there are two other ways, and that is using what he’d do to you against him

- like if you do restrain him.. keeping him chained like what he did to you, making him be alone for months without knowing when you’ll come back (that’s still the nice way to threat him, trust me)

- then he will finally stop causing harm! Though the second you get him out of the restains, he’ll clench onto you, hold you, tell you how much he loves and missed you, looking up at you with those obsessive eyes of him and a furious blush covering his cheeks, and kill anyone that dares to get close to you two

- which is why I recommend the more inhuman way to treating him if he does become your yandere, unless you love him enough to spend all your time with him, tending to his every need and sacrificing yourself in the process

- rip his other eyes out, watch him scream in agony, call ronove to amputate his arms and legs

- he can shoot lasers out of his hand, I repeat, he can shoot those out of his fingertips

- make him disabled, enough that he become a weak and helpless animal that can’t do anything to threaten anyone

- oh, I forgot to mention but rip his wings too, he shouldn’t be able to fly

- once you did all of this, maybe cut off his tongue while you are at it, he tends to have a foul mouth

- who knows, maybe he can shoot lasers from there too?

- honestly, it will be hard to keep him alive at this point, but if you still desire to do so, Welp, congratulations, he is totally harmless now!

- and as soon as he hears you enter his room, his cheeks will turn red and sounds of joy would escape his throat

- what a joke he is, he still ‘loves’ you so dearly after all you did huh?

- God, do you see this? This is the result of your action, unyielding love and affection from those beings that called themselves pure, how amazing

[reallyromealone]

Do you think you could write Alpha Steve x Pregnant Omega Reader, I love your omegaverse content so much

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷

"welcome to family video--""Stevie" Steve looked up at the sound of his very pregnant mate, (name) looking at the snacks almost drooling "what's going on? Did your water break?!" Steve fretted and like magic Robins head popped out "is my god kid coming?!" She said panicked and (name) shook his head "no no, I am basically a messenger" (name) said with a small laugh "the pups and Eddie would like to know if they could host a session at our house"

God damn it Munson was all Steve could think, knowing the brown haired alpha used his brother to convince Steve "that sneaky bastard" Steve grumbled and robin snickered "what are your thoughts?" Steve asked his Omega who pursed his lips "they offered me (snack)" he said softly and Steve looked at his mate bemused before sighing "they bring their own snacks"

"I'll go tell Eds" (name) said happily but Steve halted him "I'll drive you, not letting my mate wander by himself"

Robin waved them off as Steve started his break, the Alpha leading his mate to the car only to see Eddie and the pups "I didn't have to go far" (name) said happily with the smile that he shared with his brother "he said yes!" (Name) informed his brother who in turn gave him his beloved snacks.

(Name) fed his mate a bit as Steve looked at his brother in law unamused "you used your pregnant brother to ask me a question" Steve huffed and Eddie shrugged "it was effective"

"Steve! Can we watch a movie before!" Dustin asked excitedly and (name) hummed at this but Steve shut it down "no, you shitlings already got dnd" he said sternly "maybe next time ducklings" (name) said fondly before grunting "are you ok?!"

"Yeah he's just using my bladder for sports" (name) said "I'll drive you home" Steve ushered his mate to their car, Eddie watching carefully.

It was hard for Eddie to move past 'king Steve' but he saw how loving and careful he was with (name)... It's why he gave Steve his blessing to begin with.

"Can we get pizza tonight?" (Name) asked and Steve smiled "sure babe"

[ofcowardiceandkings]

so in those [mumble mumble] years between BotW and TotK, the Zora replaced the weathered and unreadable monuments with new history writing by Sidon, and their contents have left me hmm emotionally compromised ??

i was gonna list em out in full but then i read them all and Sidon waffles so much bless him LOL

full transcripts below (+ the 11th monument in the Domain itself) expect Sidon being an adorable goof, Zora Deep Lore, waterbending, SO much gushing over Mipha and Link, Zelda being a sweetheart, and surprise Yona content !!!

just for clarity, i've highlighted the first word of each on-screen chunk of text ... i love Sidon so much but he's so verbose i kept missing the full log lol but im glad he went all in, its earnest, descriptive and poetic :') 💙 RIP the stonemasons ...

Learnings of the Zora, Part One The Waters of Zora's Domain As told by Prince Sidon

Long, long ago, right here in Lanayru, incredible transformations, both subtle and drastic in nature, shaped the land. The tall mountains birthed clouds, these clouds cried tears of rain, and this rain filled our deep valleys past the brim. In time, this overflowing water became the Zora River, which bred waterfalls that fell and nourished the vast Lanayru Wetlands. Perhaps it was inevitable that my Zora ancestors, who wandered in search of precious water, would finally settle here. The mountains of Lanayru are blessed with high-quality stone. The structures built from said stone are solid yet refined. Just like the Zora and our domain, our buildings exist in harmony with the water. It is a beautiful symbol of our way of life. If you go to the edge of the domain, close your eyes, and listen closely ... you shall be greeted by the gentle sound of water. This kind, soothing sound is a testament to the happy life the Zora are so grateful to have found here. As one born of royal Zora blood, my duty is as clear as it is unshakeable. I, Sidon, swear here and now ... I shall protect our home with my very life, that the gentle sound of water may never cease in our beloved domain.

Learnings of the Zora, Part Two The Legend of Ruto, Our Great Ancestor As told by Prince Sidon

It is written that long ago there was a strong-willed Zora princess who was as meandering as a winding river. This princess, who was dearly loved by her fellow Zora, was noble as she was innocent. Her name was Ruto. One day, a powerful and wicked man tried to take over Hyrule and brought great ruin to the once-peaceful Zora's Domain. Our tales speak of falled Zora soldiers drifting down the river as it sadly reflected the chaotic retreat of the terrified Zora. Princess Ruto bravely fought back her tears and she bore witness to the tragic misery unfolding in the domain. Even amid her heartbreak, the Zora princess did all she coult to help the weak and elderly escape. Next she swam against the river's current and climbed the mighty waterfall to challenge her foe. The details of this fight have fallen victim to the haze of time. Few details remain. Still, it is said she was aided by the princess of Hyrule and the hero of legend, and together they saved Hyrule. So the legend goes. I, Sidon, prince of the Zoram cannot help but ponder these events as I listen to the Zora children play in all their innocence. As Princess Ruta's descendant, it is my fate to carry the torch of her brave acts into tomorrow and beyond. I shall not fail.

Learnings of the Zora, Part Three The Great King Dorephan As told by Prince Sidon

Several springs after I lost my dear sister, Mipha, a large group of Lizalfos attacked the domain. It mattered not that this was my first true battle. The expectations of those around me weighed heavy on my shoulders. The absence of Mipha, who had always been there to encourage me with loving kindness, was like a spear to my heart. As for my own spear, though I was highly trained for its use, it seemed to only cut the air and slash the water's surface. I was taken off guard by a surprise attach from three Lizalfos hiding at the water's edge, each with their blade fixed on me. I knew that my time had come ... and that is when the three Lizalfos disappeared, as quickly as they had arrived. In their place, I saw the towering figure of my father, the great King Dorephan, who had just bested my foes with ease. "Sidon, my son," he said firmly. "You allwed your heart to falter. That is the quickest way to fall on the battlefield." His words cut deep, but as I stood on the brink of dispair, a familiar gently encouraged me. "Your king needs you." Many soldiers later attested they were certain they had also heard the sweet voice of Mipha on that day. From then on, my heart was true and my resolve firm. By lending strength to our king, we were able to save the domain.

Learnings of the Zora, Part Four Two Sisters of Different Blood As told by Prince Sidon

When I was young, I had an irrational fear of strangers. I was particularly bashful around Yona. Paralyzed, even. She was already so mature in manner, and she treated me like a little brother, even though we were not related. There came an unseasonably heavy rain that quickly flooded the river. Us children, who were playing there, were swept away. I was battered by the water's strong flow, my fins helpless to resist. It was Yona who dragged me to the safety of the shore. The water continued to swell as the shore waned, but Yona was unflappable, sweetly comforting me as I shivered in fear. It was Mipha, my dear sister, who finally showed up to rescue us with other Zora adults in tow. I still remember Yona's face as she gazed up at Mipha in admiration. My face must have looked the same as I gazed at Yona. As a child, I had two big sisters. One by birth and one by chance. Yona looked up to Mipha, and I was in awe of them both. Before I knew it, years had passed, and my feelings for Yona became more difficult to quantify. Then, one day ... My father informed me that the amazing young woman who had once been a like a sister to me was to be my bride. Perhaps these feelings and memories are too dear and private to commit to history, but such is the tale of this Zora prince.

Learnings of the Zora, Part Five The Zora Armor She Left Behind As told by Prince Sidon

For some time after I lost my beloved sister, even in the light shining on the water seemed dark and dreary to my eyes. But as they say, time heals all wounds, no matter how deep. I can now speak of her with a smile, as is only fitting. I shall now tell the tale of the Zora armor that my sister crafted for her future husband, as per our ancient custom. One dark day, the domain was in great peril, and I sought help from a traveling Hylian to save our home. He was sparing with his words, yet I trusted him at once. As fate would have it, he was a childhood friend of Mipha's. My father, King Dorephan, troubled by the domain's suffering, requested his help. The swordsman agreed without hesitation. Father bequeathed my sister's Zora armor to this courageous soul, along with her hopes for the safety of the domain. The armor fit Link perfectly - so perfectly that councilman Muzu, who then harbored a hatred of Hylians, could not object. My sister had already left this world, and with her went the dearly held intentions that she had instilled within that special armor. Yet, with Link's help, she shined a light on the Zora in our hour of need, reaching between worlds with gentle fingertips.

Learnings of the Zora, Part Six The Story of Mipha Court: The Beginning As told by Prince Sidon

There was once a terrifying monster on Ploymus Mountain, loosing shock arrows on all who dared to cross its path. It was of utmost importance to drive the beast away, but as the Zora are weak to electricity, our efforts were futile. That is when a lone Hylian arrived at the domain. This swordsman who was sparing with his words ... his name was Link. Unlike us Zora, he was immune to shocks! Well perhaps that is an exaggeration, but one thing is certain. He was very brave. After careful preparation, he ascended Ploymus Mountain and defeated the foul beast all by himself. As if in celebration of newfound peace, clean water mysteriously began flowing at the top of Ploymus Mountain. That is when many Zora, if not most, voiced support for building a place that all could enjoy in that formerly frightful spot. Yet the many tree roots and stones made this task tricky, leading to a focus on the no-less-difficult matter of the name. "Zora Park" was too obvious. "Ploymus Park" only conjured images of the former terrors found there. When I candidly asked whether we should focus on the hard work at hand rather than the name, they all turned my way. "Prince Sidon," they asked. "Surely you must have a good suggestion?" To that, I fell silent, and stayed so for a long while. I shall write the conclusion of this story on another monument.

Learnings of the Zora, Part Six The Story of Mipha Court: The Conclusion As told by Prince Sidon

The first half of this tale can be found on another stone monument. If it is not too much trouble, I advise reading that first. I now present the conclusion. When posed with the task of naming this storied location, I, Prince Sidon, fell silent. After a time, I timidly proposed the one and only name that came to mind for this place of newfound peace. I suggested that we name it after my beloved sister who had long been lost to us ... Mipha Court. I worried they would think I was unfairly favoring my own family's legacy by naming it after my kin. A hush fell over the group. After a time, one of the stonemasons raised his voice in agreement. More voices joined his, one after another. The idea was embraced whlly, and the craftsmen all returned to their work. Though the work was grueling, from then until the completion of Mipha Court, the air was filled with laughter and singing. This incident drove home to my very core how much everyone loved my sister. I hope one day to inspire such admiration. If there is ever to be a Sidon Court, I must work tirelessly to earn that honor.

Learnings of the Zora, Part Seven The Prince and the Swordsman As told by Prince Sidon

The rain always stops ... except when it does not. This humourous saying was once repeated with a soft chuckle around here. Then, one day, heavy rain started falling in the domain, and no matter how many days passed it did not cease. Although the Zora are a water-dwelling sort, we came to miss the warmth of the sun and dry winds upon our backs. Alas, as fervent as our desire was, we had no means of stopping the cause of this unprecedented disaster. When all had given up hope, I, Sidon, took it upon myself to invite a Hylian to the domain. This young swordsman of few words was named Link. I trusted him at once, sensing great devotion in his kind eyes. It was immediately clear that my instincts were correct. Thanks to Link, we were able to face the thread head on. Our battle with the source of the disaster was intense by my newfound friend and I refused to yield until we finally triumphed. Sometimes, writen words flow so much more readily than those spoken ... Link, my dearest friend, you are an unparalleled swordsman, and I admire you so very much. He may lack fins and gills, but it matters not. This hero among heroes exudes magnificence tempered with steadiness. Though we are different, our hearts both yearn to serve a higher calling. I learned much from him, and I am eternally grateful. As I recall my best friend, it occurs to me that though the rains have ceased, perhaps a true adventure never does.

Learnings of the Zora, Part Eight The Princess of Hyrule As told by Prince Sidon

One that despicable disaster had ceased to plague Zora's Domain, a distinguished yet humble lady paid us a visit. This young woman who appeared with Link at her side was none other than Princess Zelda of the royal family of Hyrule. "I beg forgiveness," she said earnestly. "Because of the royal family, Princess Mipha ..." She paused, unable to continue. Small, silent teardrops tumbled down her cheek and hit the floor, one after another, each saying a thousand unspaken words. She gently wiped her eyes and lifted her gaze to meet the king's, speaking kind words of gratitude for Mipha's sacrifice. We knew well that what had transpired was the result of a decision shared by the Zora and by Princess Mipha herself. There was no need for the princess of Hyrule's apology, and even less so for her sorrow. King Dorephan, along with the rest of the Zora, were moved by the depth of Princess Zelda's sincerity. She had held that unthinkable disaster at bay for nearly 100 years with nothing more than the sheer force of her own will. Yet she was not prideful. She dutifully set to work, traveling across Hyrule to secure cooperation for the kingdom's restoration. She was adored by all, yet so humble. She possessed an inner strength, but now I am not so certain. I feel a strong calling one day to acquire this same sort of strength within myself.

Learnings of the Zora, Anecdote One The Solid Water and the Fluid Spear As told by Prince Sidon

The Zora are not associated with water because of our dwelling place alone. We each also, to varying extents, possess the ability to actually manipulate water. We use this gift for many purposes. We use it to swim faster, to achieve mighty leaps from the waves below, to gather fish, and so much more. For me, the true awakening of this ability that many of my childhood chums already possessed came upon me quite suddenly. One day as I was training at Veiled Falls, the rain slickened my grasp, causing me to drop my spear. I reached to grab it, but it was already too far away. Soon it would fall to the bottom of the cliff, never to be seen again. I knew that I must take old of it, and at that moment, droplets created a stream extending from my outstretched hand. The water stream twisted and turned until it finally took hold of my falling spear and deftly returned it to my grasp. In that moment, the water was solid and my spear fluid. This sensation forever changed my approach to spearplay. I was reminded of how my sister, Mipha, described it ... and everything clicked. Water and spear became as one. Gaining yet another layer of admiration for my dear sister, I devoted myself to my spear training from then on.

Learnings of the Zora, Anecdote Two The Great Task Entrusted to Me As told by Prince Sidon

I, Sidon, was entrusted with the great task of renovating the Zora stone monuments that had fallen to ruin. There are 11 stone monuments total find in and around Zora's Domain, including the one you are now reading. The former text written by my father, King Dorephan, could not be salvaged, and so sadly it had to be replaced. Despite my royal blood, whispers abound that it is improper for someone my age to write over the king's glorious words. Ah, but do they not realize that it was King Dorephan himself who ordered me to undertake this restoration project? Father says it is not set in stone that I shall be the one to inherit the throne, as it is not a matter of blood alone. If we ask the eternal skies above whether I am fit to rule, they shall remain silent, and so we must look to our fellow Zora. He urged me to use these monuments to share my learnings and speak to our people straight from my heart. Father is older and wiser than I. His sage advice is a gift. As such, I have inscribed my thoughts upon these 11 stones. I do not know how far-reaching my words shall be, but it is my hope that they will reach whoever needs to hear them most. Until one of the descendants writes over my musings many years from now, I pray they resonate with whoever reads them.

WELL there we are, thanks for the history lesson Sidon you absolute sweetie fhjdkdjf i have thoughts and feelings and emotions but i wont make this post any longer than it already is but i love these characters byeeeEEE

[mariequitecontrary]

2024 TF Reverse Mini Bang Memories Part 1

With the @tf-bigbang discord server closing today, I thought I'd share just a few of my favorite memories during my first community fandom event :)

Not to be dramatic, but this event changed the trajectory of my part in the transformers community for the better. It felt like I was at a 4 month long summer camp! I had so much fun talking to everyone and making so many precious, precious friends that I truly hope to stay in touch with.

So buckle in and grab some boba or your preferred drink of choice, because this is going to be long and sentimental.

A Welcoming Start

I joined at the beginning of April, due to someone reposting the Big Bang's twitter post about how writers were still welcome to join. I thought, "Only 5k word requirement over the course of a few months? Yeah sure. I can do that." Little did I know I'd actually committed to writing a fic almost 5 times that length

The vibes in the discord server started out with a bang (heh). Everyone was immediately kind and welcoming to one another. It was an immediate safe space to be excited, let loose and show our freak XD I loved how ferally affectionate we were with bringing new friends into the fold.

A sketch by @nepetacataria-art perfectly shows this I think XD

The Support and Love Shared

The sheer amount of love, comradery, and support shared with one another was astounding. Almost 200 writers and artists shared tips and tricks and offered advice and encouragement to each other! It was unreal and I learned so much. It truly encouraged me to improve in my craft and even inspired me to want to learn how to draw again!

Oh, and the RECS everyone shared!!! Everyone shared so many fics and art pieces that I am now obsessed with! I have been blessed with a LOT of quality, amazing content that I never would have seen otherwise! My tbr list grew from large to neverending haha <3

Teasing the Artists Before Match Ups

I'm ngl, I had WAY too much fun once the sketches were released to the writers and the secret-authors-corner channel was made. We all OBSESSED over all of the art and fangirled over each one! But we also talked, and talked, and talked. And dropping out of context messages into the public channels for the artists to see was too much fun!

Talking Transformers

IT WAS THE BEST THING EVEERRRRRR!!!!! WOWOWOWOWOW! I loved raving about characters and lore, both canon and fanon! Even when I wasn't a part of the conversation, just lurking and reading what people talked about whether it was AUs, comics, shows, character breakdowns, brainstorming ideas...it was all so cool and so fun. Everyone is so creative and thinking about the sheer amount of fun we all had makes me tear up.

Like, SO MANY plot bunnies were made with everyone! Myself included! Sometimes people would just say a random ass thing and then five others would hop on, riffing against each other and developing that little idea into something concrete and so so JUICY.

Two out of many MANY conversations that I personally loved were the video games x transformers ideas and talking tentacles and transformers in the nsfw channel XD

Writers Panicking, As We Do

It was all in fun, but it was very entertaining and validating to be in a space where we can all stress about our writing, our fics, and approaching deadlines.

The mods clearly enjoyed adding endless fuel to the fire and (lovingly) watched us all scream and run around in a fiery chaotic panic over every little thing.

Streaming

I didn't get to join many, but it was always so cool watching artists draw! I also had a lot of fun streaming Hades 2 with a few friends with it was first released :)

Team 0 - A King Julien Starscream Fic

It all started when Writer's Choice Period began...and the example inspired many of us writers to obsess over this...I'll let the screenshots tell you XD

A King Julien Starscream fic just WORKS and you can't tell me otherwise! @mendely's sketch REALLY sold it to me as a thing that's GOTTA happen.

Madagascar AU FTW

AND THEN THE MODS MADE IT A THING THING

@useless19's king julienscream puppet owns my soul and their little vid is possibly the finest piece of silent cinema I've ever watched in my entire life. I was ENRAPTURED.

@sxpaiscia's art KILLS ME. PUTS MY HEART IN A CHOKEHOLD. Julienscream lives in my head rent free and 50% of it is imagined with their art in mind.

The sad end to the story is...the Team 0's fic wasn't completed within the time requirements to be posted with the rest of the Mini Bang's fics :( Do we still plan on continuing and finishing it? HELL YEAH WE ARE!

To Be Continued...

Did you know that there is a limit to the amount of images you can share in one post? SMH.

Link to Part 2!

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon 2 - Zaldrīzes se zokla

Summary:

The time has come for Aemond and Vaelys' youngest daughter to wed Rickon Stark.

Warnings - Fluff, Angst, Language, Praise, Body Worship, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut - Kissing, P in V, Wedding, Celebration, Allusion to Same-Sex Relationship, Time Skip, Valaryian Ceremony.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

Word Count: 4930.

A.N - Zaldrīzes se zokla = Dragon and Wolf.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

"Do you remember our promise?" asked Aemond quietly.

Vaelys turned to him, her amethyst eyes sparkling with the same warmth and love that had captivated him since they were children. She smiled, a gentle and knowing smile that spoke of memories cherished and vows kept.

"I do," she replied, her voice steady and sincere. She took his hand in hers, their fingers intertwining just as they had so many years ago under this very tree. Looking deeply into his eye, she repeated the words that had bound them together from the start:

"I promise to marry you. I promise to protect you, to honour you, and to love you with all that I am, for as long as I draw breath."

As the sacred words hung in the air, the weirwood tree seemed to hum with the resonance of their shared past and unbreakable bond. The leaves rustled softly, a natural chorus that seemed to bless their renewed vows.

Aemond's heart swelled with emotion, the love he felt for Vaelys encompassing every part of his being. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss upon it, sealing their promise once more.

"And I promise to stand by your side, to support you, and to cherish you, always," Aemond said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Issa dārys” whispered Vaelys as she wrapped her arms around Aemonds neck, their bodies pressed together (My King).

"Was it all worth it?" asked Aemond, his voice tinged with the weight of years and experiences, of battles fought and victories won, of losses mourned and joys celebrated.

Vaelys looked up at him, her amethyst eyes meeting his with unwavering certainty. She smiled, the kind of smile that held a lifetime of love and understanding, the smile that had seen him through his darkest days and brightest triumphs.

"It was," she replied, her voice soft but resolute. "Every moment, every challenge, every joy and sorrow. It was all worth it."

Aemond's heart swelled with emotion, and he couldn't help but return her smile. Her words, so simple yet so profound, filled him with a deep sense of contentment and gratitude. He had always known that Vaelys was his strength, his anchor, and hearing her affirmation now was like a balm to his soul.

With a gentle squeeze of her hand, he whispered, "I'm glad."

"So-" she began with a hint of mischief in her voice, "-Does that mean you’re glad that you didn't marry Floris Baratheon?"

Aemond wrinkled his nose in mild disgust at the thought, his expression causing Vaelys to laugh softly. "Very glad," he replied, his voice filled with mock seriousness. "I shudder to think of the endless stormy weather and the presence of stags."

Vaelys laughed again, the sound warm and melodious, a balm to Aemond's soul. "And here I thought you might enjoy the prospect of a lifetime supply of venison."

Aemond shook his head, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "I much prefer the company of Issa dāria zaldrīzoti," he said, his voice softening with affection. "No one else could ever compare." (My dragon Queen).

Vaelys' smile deepened, her eyes shining with love. "And I much prefer Issa nēdenka gēlenka zaldrīzes," she replied, her tone tender and sincere (My fierce silver dragon).

Hand in hand, they walked back towards their family, the lightness of their banter a reminder of the deep bond they shared. The weirwood tree stood as a silent witness to their enduring love and promises, its ancient presence a testament to the strength and resilience of their union.

“Does this dress look ok? I just-I’m not sure about the colour” muttered Vaelys as she ran her hands down the smooth fabric.

“You look beautiful-stop fussing” replied Aemond.

“I-just-our youngest daughter is getting married today and I want everything to go ok, she’s nervous and oh-Aemond are we doing the right thing by marrying her to Rickon” exclaimed Vaelys.

“As much as it pains me to admit that issa byka rūklon is now a woman grown, she might be nervous, but I know she loves Rickon and she’s ready for this marriage” said Aemond (My little flower).

“I know-I’m being annoying” muttered Vaelys.

“No-your being a mother” said Aemond furrowing his brow as he watched Vaelys looking at her reflection in the looking glass, her teeth gnawing at her lip.

“I’m not sure about this dress-“ said Vaelys her voice tinged with panic.

“Woman-tell what you see in the looking glass” said Aemond as he rose from the chair.

“I-I don’t know” whispered Vaelys softly as her husband came to a standstill behind her, his arms encircling her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“Let me tell you-I see every great thing a man could possibly want in a woman, eyes so deep a man could get lost in them, skin soft as satin-a body fit for a goddess” whispered Aemond.

“-Aemond” gasped Vaelys blushing.

“Look how beautiful you are” replied Aemond.

“I-I don’t-“

“-I’m so lucky to be blessed with such a wife-Issa dāria, issa jorrāelagon, issa mēre se mērī” whispered Aemond as he began placing gentle kisses along her neck (My Queen, my love, my one and only).

“Valzȳrys” moaned Vaelys.

“-Here, feel how hard you make me” muttered Aemond as he took her hand and placed it on his cock, that was straining against the fabric of his breeches.

“Oh Aemond-we surely don’t have time for this” whimpered Vaelys as Aemonds hands slid around her front, moving up the fabric of her bodice to cup her breasts.

“We do-Issa dōna” exclaimed Aemond (My sweet).

He placed his hand in the middle of Vaelys’ back and urged her to bend forward slightly.

“A-Aemond” muttered Vaelys as he pulled up the fabric of her skirts, bunching it around her hips.

“Fuck-“ growled Aemond as he saw how wet and ready she was for him.

“Oh-Please-“ whimpered Vaelys as Aemond slowly ran a finger over her wet folds.

“I’m going to fuck you in front of the looking glass, I want to watch your face as you take my cock”.

“D-Don’t tease me-I need you to fuck me” moaned Vaelys.

“Oh, like this?” asked Aemond, and a second later his hard length filled her cunny in one smooth stroke.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Vaelys

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance.

Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, plunging his cock into her cunny over and over, thrilling to hear Vaelys’ moans of need echoing around their chambers.

Desperately clutching the wooden edges of the framed mirror, Vaelys pushed against him so he could shove his cock in. Harder and faster.

Aemond stared into the looking glass, watching his wife’s face as he fucked her hard.

Gods she looked so beautiful, her teeth digging into her lip, her cheeks tinged pink.

Aemond felt his stones draw in; his peak was approaching. He snaked a hand around Vaelys’ body and played with her clitoris, stroking it with his fingers.

“Oh gods” moaned Vaelys as her whole-body shook.

“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond, his thrusts starting to jerk.

He was close. So close. Fuck he needed to spill his seed.

Vaelys screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

Aemond’s own peak nearly took him off his feet. The sensation took over his body as he spilled rope after rope of his seed, he had no recollection of what he did or said for the good minute it took for his peak to crest, then subside.

“I love you-I love you-gods I love you so much” muttered Vaelys.

“I love you too” replied Aemond as he slowly pulled his softened cock from his wife.

“That was close-“ muttered Vaelys as there was soft knock at the door.

“Your Graces-it’s time” said Ceci.

“We’ll be out in a moment, thank you” replied Vaelys as she picked up a small cloth.

“What do you think your doing?” asked Aemond as he relaced his breeches.

“Cleaning myself of course-“

“-I will permit you to clean yourself now-but know that I plan to fill you up again later-I swear by the gods that once we retire to our chambers tonight, I will not be pulling out” replied Aemond.

“Promise-promises” said Vaelys smirking.

The Sept was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, casting a serene and almost ethereal atmosphere over the gathered guests.

The air was filled with the scent of incense and the gentle murmur of whispered blessings. Aemond and Vaelys sat together, their hands intertwined, as they watched their daughter Rekara stand before the altar, about to marry Rickon Stark.

Rekara looked radiant in her wedding gown, the intricate lace shimmering in the candlelight. Her long silver hair was braided with delicate chains of gold, and her amethyst eyes sparkled with happiness.

Beside her, Rickon stood tall and proud, his Stark features softened by the obvious affection he held for his bride.

Aemond glanced at Vaelys, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Can you believe our little Rekara is getting married?" he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and nostalgia.

Vaelys squeezed his hand gently, her own smile warm and full of love. "It feels like just yesterday she was running through the gardens, throwing worms on her cousins," she replied softly. "Time has passed so quickly."

As the ceremony progressed, Aemond's thoughts wandered back through the years. He remembered the day Rekara was born, the first time she had wrapped her tiny fingers around his, the countless nights spent telling her stories of dragons and heroes.

He had watched her grow into a strong and compassionate woman, embodying the best qualities of her Targaryen heritage.

When the septon spoke the sacred words of the marriage vows, Aemond's grip on Vaelys' hand tightened slightly. He felt a deep swell of emotion, knowing that his last daughter was embarking on a new chapter of her life, filled with its own challenges and joys.

But he also felt a sense of peace, knowing that Rekara was marrying a man who truly loved her and would stand by her side through anything.

As Rekara and Rickon exchanged their vows, Vaelys leaned her head against Aemond's shoulder, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She's happy" she murmured, her voice choked with emotion.

Aemond nodded, his own eyes damp as he watched his daughter. "Yes, she is," he agreed. "And that's all we ever wanted for her."

The ceremony drew to a close, and Rekara and Rickon turned to face their guests, their faces alight with joy. As they walked down the aisle, their family and friends showered them with rose petals, the air filled with cheers and well-wishes.

The throne room of the Red Keep was alive with vibrant energy, a dazzling array of colours and sounds as lords and ladies from across the realm gathered to celebrate the wedding of Rekara Targaryen and Rickon Stark.

 The grand hall, with its soaring ceilings and majestic tapestries, was filled with the hum of conversations and the clinking of goblets raised in toasts.

Long tables laden with sumptuous feasts stretched across the room, offering an array of delicacies from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. Golden platters bore roasted boar and venison, while silver dishes were heaped with fresh fruits, exotic cheeses, and rich pastries. Servants moved gracefully among the guests, refilling wine glasses and ensuring that no one wanted for anything.

At the head of the room, seated on the dais beneath the Iron Throne, were Vaelys and Aemond. As Queen and King Consort, their presence commanded respect and admiration. Vaelys, resplendent in a gown of crimson and black decorated with patterns of dragon scale, her silver hair braided with jewelled pins, smiled warmly at the revelry.

Aemond, his posture regal and composed, kept a watchful eye on the proceedings, his expression softened by the joy of the occasion.

Rekara and Rickon sat nearby, the centre of attention. Rekara’s laughter was bright, her happiness evident in every glance she shared with her new husband. Rickon, his Stark features softened by a rare smile, looked every bit the proud and devoted husband.

Music filled the air, the melodies of harps and lutes intertwining with the lively rhythm of drums. A group of dancers twirled and spun in the centre of the room, their movements graceful and enchanting, drawing appreciative applause from the assembled guests.

Lords and ladies from every noble house mingled together, setting aside their differences for the night in celebration of the union that promised to strengthen the bonds between the North and the Crown.

Representatives from House Lannister, Tyrell, Baratheon, and many others shared in the joyous atmosphere, their finery a testament to the grandeur of the occasion.

Aemond watched as Vaelys rose to her feet, lifting her goblet in a toast. The room quieted, all eyes turning to their queen.

“To Rekara and Rickon,” Vaelys began, her voice clear and strong. “May your marriage be blessed with love, prosperity, and joy. May you face any challenges with the strength and unity that have guided our family through the ages. To my daughter and her husband—may you build a future as bright as the stars above.”

The room erupted in cheers and applause; goblets raised high in salute. Rekara and Rickon exchanged a loving glance, their hands clasped together on the table.

Aemond stood, joining his wife in the toast. “To Rekara and Rickon,” he echoed, his voice carrying through the hall. “May the Targaryen fire and the Stark honour burn brightly together, lighting the way for future generations.”

As the cheers echoed around the throne room, Aemond felt a deep sense of pride and fulfilment. The years had brought them many trials, but tonight, surrounded by their family and the lords and ladies of the realm, he knew that every challenge had been worth it.

Together, they had built a legacy that would endure, a testament to their love and the strength of House Targaryen.

Vaelys cradled Jacaerys, in her arms. At a year old, he was a lively bundle of energy, his wide violet eyes taking in the vibrant scene around him.

His chubby hands reached out to grab at the air, and he babbled loudly, drawing the attention and adoration of those nearby.

As Vaelys gently bounced him on her knee, Jacaerys' babbling grew more insistent. Aemond leaned in closer, smiling fondly at his youngest son.

Jacaerys' older siblings and cousins gathered around, their laughter and playful chatter adding to the lively atmosphere.

Suddenly, amidst the stream of baby talk, Jacaerys' babbling took on a new clarity. He looked directly at his older nephew, Vhalarr, who was playing nearby.

"Vha-larr," Jacaerys said, his voice carrying the unmistakable attempt at his nephew's name.

A collective gasp of delight rippled through the gathered family. Vaelys and Aemond exchanged a look of pure joy, their smiles widening. Vaelys kissed Jacaerys' head, her heart swelling with pride and affection.

"Did you hear that?" Vaelys exclaimed, her eyes shimmering with happy tears. "His first word!"

Aemond reached out to gently stroke Jacaerys' cheek, his expression one of deep pride.

Vhalarr, hearing his name, toddled over to his baby uncle, his curiosity piqued. He looked at Jacaerys with wide eyes, his own small hand reaching out to touch Jacaerys' tiny fingers.

The interaction elicited a chorus of "aww" from the adults watching, and the moment was one of pure familial affection.

But Jacaerys wasn't finished. Buoyed by the excited reactions around him, he looked up at Aemond with shining eyes and shouted, "Da-da!"

Aemond's smile broadened, his heart melting at the sound of his son's voice. He gently took Jacaerys from Vaelys' arms and held him up, their eyes meeting.

"Da-da," Jacaerys repeated, his small hands reaching out to touch Aemond's face.

"That's right," Aemond said softly, his voice filled with love. "Da-da."

"Your Grace," said Cregan, his voice deep and warm. "Might I have the honour of a dance?"

Vaelys looked up, her amethyst eyes meeting his with a smile. "Of course, Lord Stark," she replied, placing her hand in his. "It would be my pleasure."

The two friends made their way to the centre of the room, where the musicians struck up a new tune, a lilting melody that invited movement and grace.

As they began to dance, their movements were fluid and harmonious, a testament to the bond they shared through their children and the years of friendship between their houses.

"They make a wonderful pair” said Cregan proudly.

Vaelys nodded, her smile growing. "They do indeed. And soon, we will share the joy of grandchildren."

Cregan's eyes twinkled at the thought. "I look forward to that day," he said. "Winterfell will be all the brighter with the laughter of children."

As they continued to dance, the conversation flowed easily.

“Every time I come to Kings Landing; I keep expecting to see Jace-“ muttered Cregan sadly.

“I understand-“ replied Vaelys softly.

"Jace was a dear friend to me. His passing-it left a void that cannot be filled. I often find myself thinking about the times we shared, and the dreams we had for the future-we even talked about Sarra marrying Rhaenar”.

“If that is something you still wish for then I see no issue with it-of course Baela needs to be consulted, but if it’s what Jace wanted-“ said Vaelys.

“H-How is Lady Baela doing since J-Jace passed?”

“She is well, she’s got her hands full helping Laena and Aemon, not to mention little Faenys” said Vaelys quietly.

“I-I’m glad. Jace often spoke of how he respected her, he would-“ uttered Cregan.

"-I know about you and Jace. I know how much you meant to each other."

Cregan's eyes widened in shock, his breath catching in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His face was a mix of surprise and vulnerability, emotions he rarely allowed himself to show.

Vaelys reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's alright, Cregan. You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that Jace loved you very much. He cherished every moment you shared."

Cregan's shock gradually gave way to a deep, poignant sadness. He looked down, his voice barely a whisper. "I-I never thought anyone knew. We had to be so careful."

Vaelys nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "Jace was my brother. I could see the way he looked at you, the way he spoke about you. It was clear to me that what you had was special."

Cregan swallowed hard, the weight of Vaelys' words settling over him. "He was-everything to me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But I never wanted to cause trouble, to bring shame to his name or his family, we were married and if anyone knew-"

"There is no shame in love," Vaelys said firmly. "What you and Jace had was real, and it deserves to be acknowledged. He found happiness with you, Cregan. And that is something to be cherished, not hidden away”.

Cregan's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Thank you, Vaelys," he whispered. "Thank you for understanding."

Vaelys gave him a gentle smile. "Jace would want you to know how much he loved you. He would want you to find peace in that love, even if he is no longer with us."

Cregan nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. "He was the best part of my life," he said softly. "And I will always carry his memory with me."

Vaelys squeezed his arm, her own eyes moist with emotion. "As will I. We will honour his memory by living the lives he wanted for us."

“I agree whole heartedly” replied Cregan.

“Although I’m fairly certain that he would complain about your lack of beard” quipped Vaelys.

“My lack of-what’s wrong with it?” asked Cregan running a hand over his smooth chin.

“You really shouldn’t shave Cregan-you look like a green boy, it’s almost as bad as that hack job hair cut Jace once had. I thank the gods that he grew the mess out” said Vaelys.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad wasn’t it” laughed Cregan.

“Bad is an understatement-“ exclaimed Vaelys.

As the celebration in the grand throne room of the Red Keep continued, Vaelys returned to Aemond’s side. The music and laughter of the wedding festivities surrounded them, but Aemond’s focus was solely on his wife as she approached, a look of tender concern in his eye.

“Is everything alright?” Aemond asked quietly, his hand gently brushing against hers.

Vaelys nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. “Yes, everything is fine. Just a conversation with Cregan.”

Aemond’s gaze softened, sensing the weight of her words. He knew how deeply Jace’s memory affected her and respected the bond she shared with Cregan through their mutual love for her late brother.

He glanced around the bustling throne room, and smiled at Sovia and Daevyn who were deep in conversation with Helaena and Jaehaera.

Vhalarr was pulling faces at Saeryna and making Jacaerys giggle as he pulled funny faces.

Jaehaerys was laughing at something Maelor was saying to him, Luke surrounded by his six daughters, the man looked exhausted as they squabbled with one another.

Aegon and Viserys lingering with Daeron who was trying to get the attention of Ceci who kept blushing and shaking her head.

Aemon and Laena were in a cloud of love as they held their daughter close, and Baela was helping to fix Rhaena’s hair.

Leaning closer to Vaelys, Aemond whispered in her ear, his voice low and filled with a hint of playful mischief. “How much longer do we have to stay here?”

Vaelys raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Why do you ask?”

Aemond’s lips curved into a smile, his amethyst eye glinting with a promise. “Because I made you a promise earlier, and I plan on keeping it.”

A blush crept across Vaelys’ cheeks as she recalled the words, he had spoken to her earlier. Her heart fluttered at the thought, the love they shared as strong and passionate as ever.

She glanced around the room, considering the timing of their departure. “Perhaps a little while longer,” she replied softly, her eyes meeting his with a knowing look. “We wouldn’t want to appear rude.”

Aemond chuckled, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “No, we wouldn’t. But I can hardly wait.”

Vaelys’ smile widened, her heartwarming at his words. “Neither can I.”

They stood together, hand in hand, their connection unspoken but deeply felt. The room around them continued to buzz with celebration, but for Aemond and Vaelys, the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

As the night wore on, they dutifully fulfilled their roles as hosts, greeting guests and sharing in the joy of Rekara and Rickon’s union.

But all the while, their thoughts remained on the promise they had made to each other, a promise of love and togetherness that transcended the grandeur of the evening.

When at last the time came for them to slip away, Aemond and Vaelys did so with a shared glance and a silent understanding.

They left the throne room, the laughter and music fading behind them as they made their way to the privacy of their chambers.

As the door closed behind them, Aemond turned to Vaelys, his expression tender and filled with love. “I told you I would keep my promise.”

Vaelys stepped into his embrace, her heart full. “And I never doubted you for a moment.”

*15 years Later*

As the morning sun cast its warm glow over the Red Keep, Vaelys sat with Jacaerys and Vhalarr, in the quiet of her chambers.

"Boys," she began softly, her voice tinged with sadness, "There's something important I need to discuss with you."

Vhalarr and Jacaerys, ever attentive to their Queen’s words, looked up at her with concern etched on their faces.

"It's about the faith of the Seven," Vaelys continued, her gaze steady as she met their eyes. "According to the teachings of the faith, it is not permitted for a person to take a second spouse."

Vhalarr's brow furrowed in confusion, while Jacaerys' expression mirrored his nephews concern. "But Grandma," Vhalarr protested, "What about love? What about happiness?"

Vaelys sighed, her heart heavy with the weight of tradition and duty. "I understand, my sweet boys. But the laws of the Seven Kingdoms are clear on this matter. Not since the days of Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives Visenya and Rhaenys has such a practice been permitted."

Jacaerys' shoulders slumped, a deep sadness settling over him. "But what about us? W-We love each other a-and we want to be together-”.

Vaelys reached out, gently taking their hands in hers. "-What about Saeryna?”

“Saeryna wants this-she wants us both” replied Vhalarr.

“So, I guess that there is some kind of understanding between the three of you”.

“Yes-were together. The three of us” said Jacaerys as he took Vhalarr’s hand.

“HA-your father owes me ten gold dragons“ laughed Vaelys.

“W-What?”

“We made a bet-how long it would take before you admitted that you were in a throuple” replied Vaelys.

“G-Grandpa knows about us?” asked Vhalarr.

“He’s always known about the three of you-he just pretends he doesn’t” said Vaelys.

“B-But how?”

“We’ve known for a long time-oh and Helaena knows about you as well” replied Vaelys.

“I told Saeryna to keep quiet when we bed her-“ said Vhalarr.

"Pfft-you can be loud aswell" quipped Jacaerys.

"So can you" huffed Vhalarr.

“-Actually, your aunt saw the three of you in a dream-oh not like that-well I hope not anyway, but she said you would be important to one another”

“She’s not wrong there” said Jacaerys softly.

"Grandma-" Vhalarr began, his voice trembling slightly with emotion, "There's something else you should know”.

"What is it?”

Taking a deep breath "Saeryna is with child-" he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "-But we don't know who the father is. It could be me, or Jacaerys."

“Guess we’ll have to move up the ceremony then” replied Vaelys.

“C-Ceremony?” questioned Jacaerys.

“-Well, you might not be able to marry under the faith of the seven-but that doesn’t mean you can’t get married in the tradition of our house”

“Y-You mean?” asked Vhalarr excitedly.

“A traditional Valyrian ceremony-where all three of you can marry”.

“Oh grandma-“ cried Vhalarr as he threw his arms around her and hugged her tight.

“I take it your pleased?”

“M-More t-than a-anything” stuttered Vhalarr wiping the tears from his pale cheeks.

“What about the seven?”

“Oh, them pious cunts can kiss my backside-and if they don’t like it then I’m sure a number of serious yet entirely coincidental accidents can be arranged” said Vaelys smiling.

“Y-You’d do that for us?” gasped Jacaerys.

“I’d do anything for you-for any of my chilren and grandchildren“ whispered Vaelys as she ran her hand through Jacaerys’ short silver hair.

“Avy jorrāelan muña” said Jacaerys softly (I love you mother).

“I love you too my sweet boy-“

Vhalarr smiled as he put his hands on either side of Jacaerys’ face and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Issa prūmia" whsipered Vhalarr (My Heart).

"Issa glaeson" replied Jacaerys (My life).

“Right-we’ve got a ceremony to plan, and I need to collect my winnings from your father-oh boy is he going to be so pissed that he lost” giggled Vaelys.

“Your being serious?” exclaimed Vhalarr as he buried his face in Jacaerys’ neck.

“Of course-I mean it’s not like I need the money, it’s more the principle of the matter. Your Grandpa lost and I won-“ exclaimed Vaelys joyfully.

“-And you wonder where I get my weirdness from” whispered Jacaerys playfully.

In the heart of the Red Keep, beneath the skull of Balerion the Black Dread, Vhalarr, Saeryna, and Jacaerys stood together, surrounded by the flickering light of torches and the echoes of ancient Valyrian chants.

They were dressed in traditional Valyrian attire, their garments adorned with intricate patterns and symbols of their shared heritage.

Vaelys and Aemond stood proudly beside them, their hearts filled with love and pride as they bore witness to the union of their son and grandchildren, their hands entwined together.

Sovia, Daevyn, and Helaena, stood nearby, their faces beaming with excitement and happiness.

As the ceremony began, the air was charged with anticipation, the ancient words of the Valyrian priest echoing through the chamber. Vhalarr, Saeryna, and Jacaerys exchanged vows of love and devotion, their voices ringing out with sincerity and passion.

“Hen hāre ānogar, Va sȳndroti vaedroma, Mēro perzot gīhoti, Elēdroma āirza sīr, Izulī amapā perzi, Prumī lanti sēteksi, Hen jenȳ māzīlarion, Qēlossa ozundesi, Syndroro ono jēdo, Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi”

(Blood of three, Joined as one, Ghostly flame and song of shadows, Two hearts as embers, Forged in fourteen fires, A future promised in glass, The stars stand witness, The vow spoken through time, Of darkness and light)

A cloth is draped around their joined hands, their eyes never leave one another as their mingled blood drips into the goblet.

Vhalarr drinks first and then offers the goblet to Saeryna who readily consumes some of the mixture of blood and wine, before passing it to Jacaerys with a smile, the three of them now bound together.

Changing the history of House Targaryen forever.

[captainderyn]

[Fictober24] Day 1: "That was good work."

Prompt: "That was a good work."

Fandom: LOTRO

Pairings: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Eldarion has been training with Wulfwryn in the art of the sword since he was a boy, yet he still cannot best her in combat. Frustrated with this, it takes Wulfwryn sharing some of her own wisdom to reflect that perhaps not seeing combat is a blessing and not a failing.

Read on AO3

---

Watching her mother spar was something Faewryn would never tire of. The elegance of her blows and parries were like the most intricate steps of a festival dance and the way she wielded her sword and shield was just as natural as the way her father held his lute. 

Faewryn, however much she adored watching her mother spar, never wanted to partake. Aside from wielding a sword—or dagger, bow, glave, or any other weapon—feeling so unnatural to her despite any number of practice hours that she was more apt to cut off her own hand than cut an opponent, she had no desire to lose time after time. 

This particular time, after many times before, finally frustrated Eldarion to his limit, and he drove the tip of his sword into the soft dirt of the sparring arena and leaned against it. Despite the cool autumn air, his face was flushed with exertion and sweat pooled on his brow, sticking his mused hair to his forehead. He shook his head like a wet dog before scrubbing his hand through the damp strands. 

“That was good work, Eldarion.” Wulfwryn praised, leaning her sword and shield against the weapons rack. She ran her sleeve over her forehead, her own face red with exertion. They’d been going through session after session back to back with no end in sight. 

Faewryn rested her forearms on the half wall, pressing onto her tiptoes and rocking back down as she called, “You nearly had her that time!” 

The glare leveled at her made her dissolve into giggles that she stifled with her hands. She knew the look her mother was giving her without looking—she wasn’t meant to heckle or tease any of her trainees, no matter if that trainee was her dearest and longest friend. 

Eldarion huffed, the most petulant he would let himself get. “I’ve been training with you for years, yet I’m still getting my ass kicked like a tot with his first wooden sword.” 

Wulfwryn leveled a look at him with raised brows. 

“Hardly a tot.” Wulfwryn admonished. “You know I go especially hard on you, as your father instructed me to.”

Faewryn pressed her tongue to her cheek, already rehearsing in her head how the next part of the conversation would go. It was the same every time, with the same answers again and again.  

“That’s exactly it! If I cannot hold my own here, how am I meant to ride with you on missions? I am nearly in my twenty-third year yet I have not ridden out once with our guards. You have soldiers younger than that!” 

If her mother’s sigh was an indicator, she also knew how this song and dance played out. Faewryn mouthed along as the two went back and forth, every word near correct. 

“You shouldn’t be so eager to go chasing down rogue orc bands. They’re a brutish bunch, and the ones that still persist after all these years after particularly sturdy.”

Eldarion was quick to counter, as he always was, “It looks shameful to have the son of the king fresh as a welp in actual battle.” 

“Have you perhaps considered that we who fought in the war don’t wish the same for our children? That we’d prefer to keep sparring exercises as learning and not life or death?” This was always the line that shut Eldarion up before, and it worked no different this time. He snapped his mouth closed and Wulfwryn nodded as if content this would be the conclusion. 

She hefted up her shield again, gesturing for Eldarion to pick up his sword once again. He did with a weary breath. 

“I know you’re eager to put this to use, I know you wish to prove yourself, but truly how long do you think I’ve been studying the sword?” Wulfwryn asked. 

Both Eldarion and Faewryn hesitated, weighing the odds wrongly answering such a question. 

“…years?” Eldarion finally answered in a hesitant, small voice. 

Wulfwryn tipped her head back with a full-bellied laugh. “A great many years! I’ll leave specifics to your imagination. Now, think: you’re trying to cram a lifetime of training and true battle experience into a handful of years. You’ll get there, I promise, hopefully with far less pain and trial than I.” 

She gestured to his sword, still in a resting position. “Now, again.” 

[fiercefauna]

A lot of people draw Plague Doctors but never the kinds of things they might contend with in the worlds they inhabit, for this reason I feel justified calling this content “PlagueCore.” The Rat King is a positively ancient idea that is also a very modern-style urban legend. Some say it leads the rats as a kind of hive Queen you’d see in social insects, to others it is simply a disgusting horror of rats fused together by the indescribable filth of medieval streets. For this particular rat king I’ve written a tale set in my “Afflicted Lands” cannon. Two more of these glimpses into Afflicted Lands exist in my recents. There is no need to look for an “episode one” the tales are not meant to relate directly with each other but may feature reoccurring characters and fictional world references.

Triggers: some basic violence, and general horror themes in the following ghost story. That said, I present you with -

The Listener

We heard the front door open and two sets of footsteps cross the almost imperceptibly creaking floors. Pricking up all of our ears, we listened to the voices.  

“Talk to your parents later if you’d like a pet, for now let’s not be keeping rats around.” “They said you’d be a friend but you’re too much like a grown-up. I mean, we could have kept it for a little while.” “Be glad I just tossed it over the fence. You don’t want to know what those things get up to.” “Yes I do!” “You’ll wet the bed if I told you.”

“I’ve never been scared!” “Your Daddy says you’re scared all the time.” “No I’m not, I, just like to pretend I’m scared.” “Why would you do that?” 

There was a long pause during which the ancient mechanism of the re-stuffed, re-upholstered recliner in the living room groaned under a small form nonetheless choosing to forcefully leap upon it. “I’m - just lonely sometimes.” 

“Lonely means you were scared!” “No! Lonely is different!” “They’re basically the same thing. Look, if you want to know what happened to Darcy, shut up and let me tell the story.” 

We raised our whiskers as though they too, could detect sound. The irregular bumps of the house and more distant, ambient sounds of the neighborhood were soothing but rarely gave way to more meaningful information. 

“Darcy was moving into that old house by the school. He was cleaning it out, fixing it up, went into the crawl space and met a Rat King.” “What’s that?” “It’s a giant rat with like 20 heads, rolls around at night like a tumble weed looking for it’s last and most important head - yours!” “And why does it do that?” 

“People are smart, much smarter than rats on average. With a person’s brain, the King of the rats is wise enough to rule.” “So what happened to Darcy?” “The ball of rats exploded. One of the rats hit his face so hard it got stuck there - reshaped his skull into a rat head for the rest of his life.” “Did he die?” “No one knows where he went. They say he was looking for survivors during the last quarantine and found this woman being attacked by rats. Too scared of rats after what happened, he just left her there, and ran off into woods, screaming like a maniac. When they found the woman later, her head was gone! Never been recovered!” 

“Do you think he was ashamed? Of letting the rats get the woman, I mean?” “I think he was scared, I would be too, especially since they found that headless woman in this very - part of town.” 

We sighed relieved, that child’s insatiable curiosity would have doomed us had it’s guardian been less merciful with it’s tales of terror by the fire. Poor Darcy, we wanted to find him,  apologize. None were truly human during those damned quarantines. We had been blessed to forget, forget everything about the life before while the crow men were cursed with the memory.  And yet we needed them, needed them to help us rebuild ourselves one tale at a time, as we lingered between the walls, listening. 

[thebadboyfanclub]

All For The Motherland (Aemond x Reader)

This was requested by the brilliant @arkainea it was such a great request and I had so much fun writing it. Also I would suggest listening to Alexander rybak fairytale. Enjoy

Tales of the far dark lands of the mossovy world were whispered among all of Westeros, some mothers would even make up stories of demons of the mossovy that traveled in the night to capture naughty children or the ones that did not sleep to get their toddlers to bed.

Not even the wisest of maesters could speak with certainty of what occupied that part of the land, to be frank, they also did not intend to find out any time soon, it was easier to say that it was demonic creatures and shapeshifters that ate souls of the innocent.

But, every story has two sides. Mossovy, the matriarch kingdom, was ruled by women and occupied by them entirely, the witches protected the kingdom with spells and did not care to join the mess that was Westeros.

Until (y/n) was born, the daughter of the queen, the labor was quite the event as the women held the queens' hands while a witch lost in her trance waited patiently for the babe, all it could be heard was the queens' grunts of pain and the witch’s mumbling as the ancestors whispered in her ears.

“The princess of the dark, the conqueror of the west has arrived my queen”

(Y/n) had managed to send shivers down the women’s spine ever since she was born, one cry is all it took for the palace windows to shatter, the babe would only sleep during the morning, while her red hues were open all night.

Her mother loved her, yet (y/n) could identify the fear upon her mother's gaze early, the only one that truly loved (y/n) was the witch that whispered the prophecy when she was brought into this world, the woman that blessed her when she cut the cord, the woman that had seen the babes future the second she held her.

“Do I truly have to go?”

“You were born to make Mossovy proud, you are destined to rule, and to do that you must ride west, I will be with you every step of the way, and soon enough you will come back to us as the queen of all the kingdoms”

The eldest witch promised before she placed a motherly kiss on the young one's forehead, (y/n) had been pressured into keeping a low profile for so long, cast aside while everyone frowned upon her power, if the elders' words held the truth, (y/n) would be content.

-

The Targaryen family had just sat down to break their fast when news arrived of giant birds circling their castle, a frightened knight had alerted the royal family about a crow, a hawk, an owl, a vulture, and an eagle landing in front of the red keep, their riders demanding an audience with the king and queen.

(Y/n) walked into the throne room with her and held her high while her guards stayed close to her, everyone’s eyebrows raised at the presence of the young woman, they had no clue who she was and where she came from. Still, she looked like a queen as she stopped in front of king Viserys who sat on the iron throne.

“Your grace, it is a pleasure to finally meet you”

“I could say the same, my lady, if I knew who you are”

“(Y/n) odwin, we rode for two days from our homeland, I am sure you have heard of Mossovy”

Mutter coming from the court that was present took over her ears. The mysterious veil was finally lifted and what was behind it left them terrified, a smirk decorated her lips while her eyes pierced through the old king.

The house odwin ruled Mossovy for as long as anyone remembered, the history of women running away from slavery or any type of abuse and making a home as far as humanly possible, their words revealed everything that should be said

“All for the motherland”

They worshipped Mother Nature who blessed them with the gift of magic, they found power in witchcraft, it protected their daughters, it kept them healthy and barely touched by the hand of time.

(Y/n) guessed that technically she was older than the king, a man that was barely keeping his eyes open from the illness, if he could make it back to her homeland the witches would probably be able to nurture him back to health.

“Mossovy? You must have me for a fool if you even thought I would believe such lies”

“Why would I lie about it? I believe you wish I lied perhaps of the way we chose to step back and did not take any part in the pointless wars you have created to kill one another, understandably so a certain unwarranted cruelty is expected from your kind”

“My kind?”

“Mankind your grace”

“You are overstepping young lady”

“It’s the princess (y/n) and I am not overstepping anything, you called me a liar so I defended my own”

She relished this moment, to oppose a supposed king that looks so frail and defeated by a plague, yet he thought because his bum warmed a seat made of iron swords made him invincible and demanded respect. She wanted to laugh at him, belittle him, though her upbringing forbade such antics until it was necessary.

“If you are from the land of Mossovy, what are you doing here?”

“We want an alliance, there has been a plethora of attempted invasions recently and it is time to end this once and for all”

“I have not commanded any of my scouts to travel to your land, are you certain of those events or is it just a mere misunderstanding on your end?”

“the invaders came from Essos, they did not go far thankfully our army is strong, and we have managed to protect our own yet we must admit that the enemy is getting stronger as years go by, it will certainly help if we also had your muscle brains of men”

“Enlighten me, young princess, why should we align ourselves with your kingdom? All we know of you is that you came in flying on humongous birds and that your land is the home for demons”

“I am well aware of the hushed tales that have been whispered for my home and I do not blame you, women who unapologetically took authority and simply act the way the opposite gender has assumed that it should act, the only demonic act that we have committed is that we are women”

Viserys was in a tough spot, he had named his daughter as heir which was scandalous, leaving her in a position that could cause a stir, the young woman that stood before him spoke of a land that was run entirely by females, a matriarch kingdom that had managed to stay hidden for centuries.

He was not getting any younger, once he passed an alliance with such land could be extremely useful for Rhaenyra, to already show a land that prevailed under the hand of a woman could back her claim.

“Very well, I only have one condition”

“Which is?”

“You bend the knee to my daughter, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, my heir”

“I would be delighted to pay my respects to the future queen, I cannot wait to meet her”

-

(Y/n) grew fond of the kingdom, specifically, she was intrigued by their dragons, such marvelous creatures and what was even better was that she realised that they were summoned by magic, the act that the king now frowned upon was what brought him to power.

She had wished to go out for a stroll around the premises when the sound of steel clashing made her ears perk up. Her eyes shifted towards that direction while her legs guided her closer to the circle of people, soon enough she discovered prince Aemond part taking in a duel with one of the kings guards, the men danced around one another, it was quite a sight of you were incompetent in battle, his movements were shifted enough but not as clean to get him out of a battlefield alive.

The crowd cheered for the one-eyed prince who had managed to disarm the guard, what interrupted the moment of applause was (y/n)s meek giggle, “amateurs” she thought.

“Princess (y/n), would you like to share what was it exactly that amused you”

“You, my prince”

“Me?”

“It was a nice effort I am not going to lie but I do believe you are in desperate need of a better coach”

Once again the people spoke under their breaths, not of what she said but most of who she was, a mere foreigner that spoke ill of the princes and the guards' skills in sparring.

“Really? Go on then princess, pick a sword”

“Prince Aemond I think the princess was just jesting”

“I was not, on the contrary, I would love to part take in this adorable training session”

She opposed it, she had chosen to cover herself with a thick cape that was now on the ground, Aemond observed (y/n)s arms, scattered wounds from scars decorated her skin, and her long hair resembled a horse, long, thick, and beautiful.

(Y/n) twirled the sword with her fingers, her ruby eyes sparkling at the idea of a challenge, she looked like a creature from another world.

Aemonds interest had peaked in (y/n) ever since she went against his father, the ever-defiant princess let the king have a piece of her mind, she was fearless, so how could he not want to know more?

“Do not worry Ser, I will go easy on him”

“Is that so? Well then, let’s see which one will have to swallow back their words or pride after we are done with this”

“Sounds promising”

There was a moment of silence, you could hear a pin drop until Aemond went for the first jab that left (y/n) unfazed, her sword collided with his and forced him to take a step back due to her position switching smoothly from defense to offense, the princess had been yielding a sword since the young age of 4, archery was her favorite but a sword fight was more intimate, to be able to see the fear on her opponents' eyes as he was slowly losing his leverage, a priceless moment.

“You must be quicker than that”

She teased him before she disarmed him, with a grunt Aemond released the clutch he had on his sword the edge of (y/n)s weapon rested on the side of his neck, Aemond panted still he did not break eye contact, and neither did she.

“I must say princess, I have never met someone like you”

“Good, she would have probably taken your head already, however, I do not want to stain my attire so I will leave you to it”

She smiled at him before she left the sword back in its place and retrieved her cape. With her back turned to him he recalled the first night she had stayed, oh that eventful night that turned his life around forever, she had earned the nickname of “princess of the night” around the castle but Aemond felt like she brought to light in his life.

The pain from his eye injury would often leave him restless, he had grown tired of it and went out for a walk. That is when he saw her, she whispered something that sounded like nonsense to him with her head looking up at the sky, he was about to brush it off as the princess was just mad when he saw the dark mist appearing from the sky and had started to circle her.

Instinctively he went over to the side so he can remain hidden while he spied on her, the most had almost engulfed her when she turned around, her eyes were open however she was not looking at something specific, it almost looked like she had gone blind, her eyes were completely red, no white, no black, just a coat of red, she appeared to be inhaling the mist while the whispering continued.

He should have been scared, and ran away to call for guards and take her to the dungeons for her dark magic, however, he stood still, and he allowed her to continue without intruding.

“Amazing”

He mumbled to himself, astonished with what his eyes beheld like she commanded the world to spin, she was commanding the sky itself to engulf her, she wasn’t asking for darkness, she was the darkness.

The mist after a while started to dissolve and her eyes would slowly fade back to what they usually looked like, still, her hues were of dark burgundy, and now they were leaning towards the image of a fireplace, licks of a flame danced around her jewels she called eyes, her hair fell like traces framing her face, her skin blistering under the moonlight, she was a creature of the night, the mystery of the black coat painting across the sky became her.

Aemond thought he had gone unnoticed, he could not have been more wrong. (Y/n) picked up on his pacing from a mile away, the whispers of her ancestors warned her of whom it was, she chose to ignore him, let him become a mere observant of her craft, although she allowed it to scare him off, thinking that the prince would run with his tail between his legs and let everyone know of what he saw.

Aemond surprised her, the man was of course taken aback by the incident but the result wasn’t what she made it to be, he was even more interested in the princess. She was a worthy opponent, someone that left him guessing, an untouchable royal from the unknown that could make anyone tremble with just one sentence, she is everything Aemond aspired to be.

“She will be mine”

“Whom are you referring to?”

She loudly questioned startling Aemond. After the first wave of shock, he managed to smoothly recover and come out of his hiding spot to face her.

There she stood, the princess of Mossovy, the powerful witch, a woman that was one of a kind. Aemond gulped the knot that had formed in his throat before he took just one step closer to her.

“You, princess”

“Me? I will be yours? You have a wonderful sense of humor”

(Y/n) chuckled at the declaration of the prince. Aemonds ego was severely bruised at her initial response, ever since his eyes incident he had desperately made the effort to improve his confidence, truly a woman laughing at his vulnerability was making his work crumble beneath her feet.

“Do you honestly think I am looking for a husband? Someone that will parade me around while I am young and breed me until I give him a son and after all my tough labor of being a “dutiful wife” I will be cast aside while he indulges in whores? I would rather eat my own heart”

Aemond lost his composure, how dare she assume he would be like that? He was a man of honor, a man that scoffed at such low-life antics, for so long his bed was empty, and would turn his back when his brother asked him to accompany him to flea bottom.

As (y/n) kept snickering Aemond took the advantage to catch her off guard and with a few big steps he was chest to chest with her, his fingers latching around her bicep to gain (y/n)s attention and cut her amusement short.

“I would worship you, you mustn’t be as witty as you consider yourself to be if you believe that once I get the chance to have you I would not take tremendous pleasure in spending every waking moment just admiring you, loving you, basking in your presence, you are the fire that burns inside, the ocean that soothes my burning ache”

“That is kind of you to say, except that it is just words, words are just a mass of air that forms into a sound for a mere second before it disappears. If you truly feel those things you claim, then act like it”

She challenged him, it was at that point that they both noticed how their chests brushed against one another, how they were only one breath away from the lips of the other, his stronghold only grew tighter as a way to restrain himself from doing something that his mother would frown upon.

The only time Aemond broke eye contact with (y/n) was when his gaze fell to her lips, those soft, pink lips that had tortured his brain from morning to night, if he just barely leaned in he could taste them, still, something held him back.

“You are breathing heavily my prince, what seems to be the matter?”

“Cast a spell on me, make me forget you, that is the only way I could live in peace, you have taken over my body like a demon, and I slowly find myself being pulled out of my schedule while my soul yearns for you or was in the rings of seven hells? Was my dull and grim life just a miserable way to exist and every you strolled in you plastered some color on my canvas? I do not know if your existence in my life is a gift or a curse”

“Isn’t that the beauty of it all? To be so mindfully present in the moment that you jump out of character for the one that you crave? To live and die for your other half?”

Requests are open!

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Learning To Be Satisfied 

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ Psalm 46:5 God is within her; she will not fall; God will help her at break of day.”

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VERSE OF THE DAY 

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+ Proverbs 27:20 Sheol and Abaddon are never satisfied, and people’s eyes are never satisfied.

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM SATISFIED 

I AM CONTENT 

I AM LOVING 

I AM BLESSED 

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THOUGHTS:

=======================

    There are so many of us who are never satisfied. We can try all we can to be satisfied and buy everything we need, but there's still something missing. We say if I buy this one thing, this would be it. I don’t need anything else, but here comes something better than what we have. Something is better than what we own.

  I remember when I first bought the iPad; I was so content and thrilled; then the next year came, and they came out with a bigger iPad, and I bought that one, and the following years after that, every year they came out with something more than the other last two like a larger screen or SOMETHING. 

  Each year, I bought a new one, and until one day, I said I was not buying another one because they all do the same, and this is it. I had to put my foot down to gain ground because I was never satisfied, and I saw it. I asked God to help me be content.

    The verse today says that Shoel and Abaddon are never satisfied. People's eyes are never satisfied because what we see we most of the time want; I have met only a few satisfied people, and they don’t have to have all these things other people like because they realize they can't take it to heaven and to have all these things doesn’t matter, it don’t mean anything to have a closet full of clothes and a self-whole of books it doesn’t matter but what matter the most is being filled with the Holy Spirit and dwelling in his presence. 

     1 John 2:16 For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world.

  In 1 John, it tells us that the desires of the flesh and eyes are the pride of life because what we desire the most and what we see with our eyes are what we value the most; it becomes our pride and joy, the house we have and the cars we drive builds nothing but pride. 

    We place these things before God and sometimes before our responsibilities because we feel this is the right thing to do. Still, really, and honestly, when we place things and people before God, those become our focus, which we become proud of. Some people are prideful about their looks, some about their children, and some about their marriages. Still, when we place so much of ourselves in this, we lose who we should glorify. We have no time to glorify God because we are too busy in the presence of what we glorify the most.  

    When we do this, we bring ourselves more into the world than we can ever imagine, and pride is hard to break because we don’t see it or feel it; it sneaks up on us when we allow it in. We don’t see ourselves worshiping the gods we have made, these people, and things we have placed above the true God. Some people laugh and pick fun of people who are so obsessive with things, and the reason why this happens is that they allow themselves to bow down to the things that are right in front of them and lose focus on the True God 

   2 King 5:22 “Everything is all right,” Gehazi answered. “My master sent me to say, ‘Two young men from the company of the prophets have just come to me from the hill country of Ephraim. Please give them a talent of silver and two sets of clothing

     Having things and a nice place isn’t wrong. Still, when we want so much of it that none of our wants are from above, we lose sight of who we are. We as believers can let things and people take that from us; look at Elisha’s servant, Gehazi. Gehazi was told to tell Naaman one thing, but Gehazi decided to be disobedient, and he lost everything because he let the pride of life, and riches to cause him to lose focus.

    This picture of what he did shows us that we are servants of God, and we allow one thing to distract us and pull us from him to get what we think is immediate, and that is what Gehazi did; he was looking at I can get ahead if a have more, and he knew if he asked Naaman, he would give it to him because Naaman was so grateful for what Elisha did.

   2 King 5:27 Naaman’s leprosy will cling to you and your descendants forever.” Then Gehazi went from Elisha’s presence, and his skin was leprous—it had become as white as snow.

     Because of his greed, Gehazi lost his health. He lost being under that kind of anointing, and we can lose our anointing if we allow people, things, and sinful activities to stay in our lives; we must learn to let go to grow in God. If you’re carrying the anointing Of God, be careful what you entertain, be careful what you do, and be careful about anything that can taint the anointing of God in your life; he can’t take gifts away, but he can place his anointing on dormant if he feels you have abused it.

   ***Today, we learned about greed and being content; this kind of action can often pull us from God. A lot of people look at this sin and that sin, and they don’t understand that even this sin can pull us away from God because it is a trap from the enemy for us to view it as small, and it’s not.

  What Satan's plan is for some of us is to make us think our sins can’t send us to hell and our ways can’t send us to hell. When we let worldly possessions step in the way, we will lose closeness with God because we lose sight of who he is to us today; if you are blinded by the enemy schemes and tricks ask God today to help you stay focused on him. And to be content in whatever season he has you. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, thank you for today; we ask that you help us be content. We ask that you dwell with us and continue to use us for your will, show us what we are doing, and show us what we have allowed to stand in our way. Lord, please fight all our battles; we give you everything; lord, continue to love us, and please don’t give up on us; continue to use us, and we thank you in Jesus' Name, Amen 

========================

REFERENCES 

========================

+ Proverbs 21:4Haughty eyes and a proud heart, the lamp of the wicked, are sin.

 

+ Proverbs 21:24 Scoffer’ is the name of the arrogant, haughty man who acts with pride.

 

+Proverbs 26:12 Do you see a man who is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him.

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FURTHER READINGS 

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Proverbs 25

Esther 7

Judge 10

2 Samuel 5

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hurricanes / Hummingbirds: XVI

Series Synopsis: As the years go by, you find that it is incredibly difficult to survive wars and fight storms, especially when the only thing you have by way of a cursed technique is the blessing of a tiny bird.

Chapter Synopsis: You finally rescue Daisuke’s girl.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x Female Reader; slight Kento Nanami x Female Reader; slight Satoru Gojo × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.3k

Content Warnings: swearing, enemies/rivals to lovers, character death, canon-typical violence, angst, gore, original characters included

A/N: sorry i haven’t been updating this much recently!! i’m trying to finish up one of my other fics so i haven’t had a ton of time to work on this one but here is something to tide you all over (i hope)

“She’s very beautiful,” the boy said. “I’ve only seen her once or twice, but I remember that much. She’s beautiful, but it’s in a strange way. Like she’s not quite the same as the rest of us.”

“Who?” you said.

“Lord Tachibana’s concubine,” he said. “Though I don’t think she’s much older than you, ma’am. I brought her food once, when she was sick — she’s sick frequently, by the way — and that’s when I saw her.”

“Do you think that our girl is the same as this concubine?” you said. The boy shrugged.

“I can’t say for certain, but it would definitely make sense. Lord Tachibana spent quite a while in her room after you and that man left. I think he was upset about your visit,” he said.

“Very well. I suppose I should endeavor to meet this concubine; at the least, maybe she’ll be able to give us a little more information than Lord Tachibana was willing to part with,” you said. “Thank you for your help, dear boy. Can I ask you for one more thing?”

“Yes, ma’am. What is it?” he said.

“Tell me how to reach her,” you said. “The concubine, that is; how is it that I may speak to her without Lord Tachibana finding out?”

For being as young as he was, the boy was excellent at laying out plans. His recall was impressive, and the ideas he had were admittedly faultless. You praised him for it, telling him to run inside and ask the innkeeper for anything he wanted, promising you’d pay. He was happy to oblige, shouting his gratitude over his shoulder as he darted towards the inn, presumably before you could change your mind.

The waves had washed away the evidence of your fight with Tori, smoothing over the gouges in the sand and the depression your body had made when it had hit the ground during the torpor. You looked at your wheel necklace, the way the moonlight shone through the three clear wedges which represented Nezumi, Usagi, and Tori respectively.

Only nine left. Only nine more Beasts, and then you would have to face Ten himself. Would you be able to find the girl in time? Would you be able to have one of Daisuke’s weapons at your side, or would you have to fight the king of the sky with the sword you had been given by Hisashi?

“You’re still out here?” Kashimo said. You weren’t sure when he had come out, but at some point while you were lost in your thoughts, the air had indeed grown electrified by his presence. He was a few paces away, feet planted in the dry sand and arms crossed, a dark scowl on his sharp features as he regarded you.

The sea lapped at your ankles, the wind in your hair as you twisted your upper body to face him, extending your hand. His eyes widened before the harshness gentled into something else. An emotion you had never seen before, not on him. Slowly, as if he was still supremely unsure, he reached out his own hand towards your own, stretching out as if he wanted to take it.

He was not close enough, though. The distance between your fingertips was paper-thin, but it was there, stopping them from touching. And then another wave came crashing down on the shore, chasing after Kashimo, who retracted his hand and skittered backwards, eyeing the water warily.

The moment was lost. Your hand dropped to your side, and you returned your attention to the horizon, admiring the stars which carpeted the sky.

“Y/N,” he said. You cocked your head, and then you inhaled in surprise. His face scrunched with determination, he had taken one single step towards you, crushing the lingering foam which remained on the ground as he did so.

Another step, and then another. He did not look at his feet nor at the sea when he did so. His eyes remained firmly on you the entire time. Another step. One more.

“You’ve done it,” you said. “Kashimo, you’re walking in the water.”

“No,” he said, and this time when you held out your hand, he was close enough that he could grasp at it. “I am walking to you.”

His fingers interlocked with yours. Small sparks danced between you both, but they diffused into nothingness the longer you held onto each other. For a good while, you were silent, your joined hands hanging between you, the breeze cool against your faces, the song of the waves both calming the mounting tension and amplifying it.

“Why did you come into the water?” you said again, quietly. Neither of you looked at one another; it would be different if you did. The meaning would change. It was fine when you were just staring at the moon, but if you had to see his face, then it would not be alright anymore. You would realize something that you didn’t yet want to realize.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose I wanted to get over my fear.”

“And do you feel as if you have?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. He was not looking at the moon anymore; in your peripheral vision, you saw that he was looking at you. “Yes, I believe that is the case.”

“Even a child could kill you now,” you said, swallowing. “That doesn’t make you afraid?”

“No,” he said. “Not at the moment.”

“I could kill you now,” you said, whipping around, gripping his biceps, like you could physically impress your conviction upon him. “Does that not make you afraid, either?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve never been afraid of that.”

You found your eyes lingering on his lips, and you dug your fingers into his arms, as if by causing him pain, you could force your own thoughts onto a better track. You shouldn’t have turned. You should’ve stayed facing forwards. But then again, you thought that there was probably no world in which you did not make that mistake, no rendition of you that did not shift to look at him. It would always be like that. You would always be looking at him.

“Kashimo,” you whispered, drawing closer to him. He blinked, not making any moves to close the distance but also not trying to escape, either. “We’re going to find the girl soon. Once we do, and once Daisuke gives me my sword, there’ll be no reason for us to meet with each other, will there? Not until after I defeat Ten.”

“I suppose that’s true,” he said.

“But I don’t want that,” you confessed. Water splashed against your shins, salt roughening your skin and leaving a dry feeling in its wake. “I still want to see you.”

“Why?” he said.

“Do you really not know?” you said. He trained his attention to the swirling bubbles of the frothy waves breaking against the shore. You weren’t sure if he was avoiding you, or if he was just truly fascinated by the fact that he had finally done it, that he was actually in the water.

“No,” he said. “I really don’t.”

Abruptly, you let go of him, clearing your throat. He must’ve been lying to spare your feelings, but you appreciated him and his efforts. It did make you feel a little better than a flat out rejection would’ve, but only marginally so.

“I apologize,” you said. “We should go now. It’s important that we get enough rest. Reaching this concubine is dependent on us performing at our best.”

Without waiting for a response, you left him behind, pursing your lips in an effort to maintain whatever shreds of dignity you could muster.

You weren’t sure why you had said something like that. What had you even thought would come of it? You were supposed to marry Hisashi. Kashimo wanted to kill you. What kind of a foolish woman were you, that you were set to marry a kind man, a handsome man, a rich man, and yet you were doubting that union? Why would you ever trade Hisashi for Kashimo? A diamond for a storm? Yet it remained that for a moment, you had earnestly considered doing it. If Kashimo had answered differently, then perhaps you would’ve done it.

But he hadn’t. Maybe he was smarter than you in that aspect. Certainly he had more control over his emotions, which was not something you thought you’d ever say about a man ruled by his whims. You had been lucky that his whims had not led you astray this time. Next time, you might not be so fortunate.

You let your finger rest on your lips, trying to imagine what it would’ve been like. Would there have been sparks? Not the figurative kind, but literal electricity, the side effect of his cursed technique. It might’ve chased someone else away, someone lesser who feared being burnt by his lightning, but not you. In fact, you were like a moth to his flame, all the more excited by its presence.

Yet you shouldn’t be. You ought to remember what happened when a moth flew into a lantern, how they burned into smoke in an instant. It would not be good for you. It would kill you. He would kill you.

You wondered if, for that brief instant before a moth’s immolation, it was happy. Did it find some joy in finally reaching the thing it desired most, even if it would inevitably die at its hands? And if that was the case, then was that joy worth it? Knowing the consequences, would the moth still fly into the fire? Would it willingly die, just for that single moment when it felt like it had reached the sun?

The next morning, the sky was restless. Dark storm clouds gathered overhead, and the sea, which had been so calm only the night before, was choppy and harsh. There was a promise of rain in the air, or was it a threat? Anyways, it was obviously soon going to storm, which meant that you had to enact the boy’s plan as soon as possible.

“You’re sure this will work?” Kashimo grumbled. The boy seemed nervous, but he nodded.

“There’s no guarantee, but it’s your best chance,” he said, though you noticed he took the initiative to hide behind your leg, where he must’ve assumed he was safe from Kashimo. You patted him on the head.

“We’ll give it a chance. If it doesn’t work, then it’s not a problem. We always have our last resort,” you said.

“Which is?” Kashimo said.

“Brute force, of course. Even just one of us could outmuscle the entire mansion; with the two of us, it won’t be difficult at all. I’d prefer to not do that unless we absolutely have to, though,” you said. “It’ll get messy if we do.”

“Right,” Kashimo said. The boy, to his credit, did not question how just one of you would be enough to beat every single resident of the Tachibana Mansion. Privately, you thought that he’d make a fine addition to the Gojo household.

“Let’s be off, then. You remember what we have to do?” you said.

“Yes, yes,” Kashimo said. “You don’t have to nag me. I won’t put a foot wrong. Have we decided upon a signal yet, though?”

You looked up at the sky, trying to think of a way you could send a message to Kashimo from far away. If the roles were reversed, it would not be that difficult — a single bolt of lightning would be enough to let you know that he was ready. But you did not possess anything that showy or bright, so you’d have to figure something else out.

“I’m not quite sure yet, but I promise you’ll know,” you said.

“How?” he said, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows at him.

“You just will. You’ll see it, and you’ll think of me, and because of that, you will know exactly what it means,” you said.

His jaw clenched, but he did not argue further, only swinging onto his horse and waiting for you to do the same.

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said. “One way or another.”

“Yes,” you said. “Good luck. Don’t — don’t do anything stupid.”

He scoffed. “I never would.”

With that, he galloped off, in the direction of the Tachibana Mansion. You watched him go for a moment, allowing the boy to stroke your mare’s nose as you waited.

“Ma’am,” the boy said. “That man…”

“Yes? What about him?” you said. The boy peered up at you through lowered lashes, as if he was very shy about what he wanted to say next.

“It will be difficult for you to signal him in the way you are speaking of,” he said.

“What do you mean? Why is that?” you said. The boy was blushing now, the subject obviously an embarrassing one for a child his age.

“He’s always thinking of you,” he said. “You could send him the entire world as a signal, or you could send nothing at all. It wouldn’t change the pattern of his thoughts any.”

The steady rhythm of your mare’s canter was the only thing that served to calm the turmoil of your mind. She covered ground at a rolling pace, rocking you with her comfortable gait into a calmer sense of self. You wished you could just keep riding forever, until you were someone completely different, with no responsibilities or entanglements.

That was impossible. Eventually, you reached the Tachibana Mansion, slowing the mare to a trot and then a walk, halting her by where Kashimo’s horse was tied and doing the same so that you could enter the mansion as a distinguished guest.

It was the same older woman from yesterday that answered the door. She seemed surprised to see you, or maybe it was not you but the fact that you were alone that was so shocking to her. Either way, for just one second, her composure dropped, before it was back to normal.

“Why have you returned?” she said.

“I thought it might be more beneficial for me to have an audience with the lady of the house,” you said. The woman exhaled.

“Lady Tachibana has been dead for a few weeks now,” she said.

“I am very sorry for your loss,” you said. “It is always difficult when such tragedies strike.”

“It certainly is,” she said. “Is that all, then?”

“No, it is not. I’ve heard Akihiro — Lord Tachibana, that is — has a concubine. Might I be able to meet with her, in the lady’s stead?” you said.

“How did you hear about her?” the woman said, voice growing icy for a second before she sighed. “Of course. It was probably that blabbering doctor. I told Lord Tachibana not to let him make a house call, but when have I ever been listened to?”

“You don’t deny her existence,” you noted.

“Why would I?” she said rhetorically. “You already know. There’s no point in lying. Ordinarily, I’d tell you to take your concerns to Lord Tachibana, but he’s busy with another caller at the moment, so it’ll have to do. Anything for the lady of the Gojo house, huh?”

This last part was said with no small amount of sarcasm, but there was an undercurrent of fear. It was like you had said yesterday: whether or not you were bluffing, they could not afford to call you on it. The seed of doubt was enough to taint their actions, and good thing, too, because you actually weren’t bluffing. You really were the lady of the Gojo household, or at least you one day would be; regardless, Hisashi would not take kindly to any insult against you and, by extension, your associates.

“It will not take long. It is just one of those matters that I believe is a conversation better suited for a woman’s ears,” you said. The old woman guffawed.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” she said. “It can be difficult, telling a man about the more sensitive matters. I sincerely apologize that you must meet with a concubine, though. I trust you are not insulted?”

“I understand the circumstances, so I’m not. Once again, I am deeply sorry for the situation. Losing any family member is difficult, and I’m sure Lady Tachibana was well-loved,” you said.

“She was, at that. More than that odd little girl that he calls a concubine,” she said. You pretended to gasp.

“Is that so!” you said. “What makes her so odd?”

“Her hair is gold, for one, and her eyes are a strange color. Like a field covered by fog,” she whispered conspiratorially. “More importantly, she’s—”

“She’s?” you prodded. The woman gave you a suspicious look, shaking her head. Any hints of camaraderie had vanished as you reached a small door.

“It’s not my business, nor is it yours. Anyways, you’ll meet her soon enough,” she said. “It’s just up those stairs.”

“She’s in the attic?” you said. The woman shrugged.

“She is. I’m not allowed to go up there without Lord Tachibana, so you can go by yourself. Don’t take long, though; it wouldn’t be good for anyone if he catches you with her,” she said. You saw her throat bob as she swallowed, and for the first time, you realized that she was putting herself in danger to do this. But why? Did she really care that much about helping you? Or was there some other reasoning to it?

“Thank you,” you said, bowing at her before opening the door, coughing as plumes of dust flew in your face, blinking so that your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting.

The stairs creaked as you walked up them cautiously, unsure of which ones might give out — they all seemed close to doing so, as if they were one misstep from collapsing entirely. Therefore, it took you twice as long as it should’ve to ascend into the attic proper. Despite all the extra time, though, you were not at all prepared for the sight you were met with when you reached it.

There was a small cot in the corner, and looped around the frame was a heavy chain. Spots of dried blood littered the ground, and there were metal bars over the window, though they were an extravagance, an unnecessary reminder of the inhabitant’s situation. After all, it wasn’t like she could ever escape that way — because that very chain which was attached to the bed led to a manacle locked around the ankle of a gaunt looking girl who could only be the concubine, though you had never in your life seen a concubine being treated in such a manner.

Her hair might’ve once been a brilliant gold, like sheaves of wheat, but now it was dull and lank, falling down her back and in her face like a greasy curtain. Just as the woman had said, her eyes were green, but it was a resigned, blank shade. Her skin was pale to the point of translucence, a sure symptom of sun deprivation, and her body was unnaturally hollow and bony, as if she didn’t get enough food.

“What a joke,” you said, stepping towards her. “This is how such a self-important man treats his concubine. What is your name?”

She flinched as you drew closer, but she did not try to run away. She must’ve just been that resigned to her fate. She only dropped to her knees, bowing her head at you.

“Tullia,” she whispered.

“Tullia,” you repeated. “A name from a land where they have a Pope instead of an Emperor?”

“Yes,” she said, daring to look up at you. “How did you know that?”

“Someone told me,” you said. “He goes by Kashimo now, but I believe you knew him as Hajime Jigoku.”

She gasped, and then she was clenching the fabric of your clothes in her hands, clinging to you like you were a lifeline. You pushed her hair behind her ears, taking in her sweet face and wondering what she had ever done to deserve such treatment.

“Hajime is alive?” she said, her voice breaking.

“Yes,” you said. “Did you think he wasn’t?”

It was a little strange to hear. Kashimo was the person who defined living, who was so utterly alive that the air around him burned with it. The thought of him being dead actually did not even make sense. But then again, what part of any of this made sense?

“I always waited for him and Daisuke,” she said. “I used to fight back, because I knew — I knew that they would come for me. But they never did. Then he said that they were dead, so I just…gave up. But you mean to tell me that they’re alive? Both of them, or just Hajime?”

“They’re both fine,” you said. “They’re alive. I came on Daisuke’s behalf, because he wanted to see you again. Kashimo — Hajime, he offered to help me find you.”

“So they’ve been alive all this time?” she whimpered. “They’ve been alive, and they never — why did they never — I waited for so long for them. Did they forget about me?”

“They thought you ran away,” you said, holding her face in your hands, using your thumbs to wipe away her tears. “They thought that you were better off without them. They thought you didn’t want to be found. But I can promise that they definitely missed you. They definitely didn’t forget about you.”

“I want to see them,” she said. “I want to see them again. I want to see Daisuke. Please, take me to Daisuke.”

“That’s why I’ve come,” you said. “Though you’re in no shape to travel far at the moment. The first order of business is getting you out of here, and then we’ll spend some time allowing you to recover before traveling back to where he’s staying.”

Standing, you unsheathed your sword. Tullia’s eyes widened as you raised it above your head before slamming it down on the chain binding her to the bed. Ordinarily, it might not have had much of an impact, but because you had reinforced the blow with pure cursed energy, it sliced through the metal like it was nothing. Spinning the sword in your hand, you maneuvered it into a better position so that you could repeat the process on the barred window, which was theoretically large enough for you both to fit through.

“Are we going to leave through there?” she said, looking first outside and then back at you in horror. You nodded, sheathing your sword once more.

“I possess the Hummingbird’s Blessing. On my honor and that of my deity’s, I promise that I will get you out of here safely. Do you trust me?” you said.

“This is like a dream,” she confessed. “I didn’t think I’d ever be saved. I thought I’d die up here, alone and in the dark, but now here you are. It doesn’t matter if I trust you or don’t; in the end, I have no other choice.”

And so, you grabbed the arm of Daisuke’s girl, the one you had been searching for for so long. Backing up, you did not even bother to activate your cursed technique before taking off at a sprint, dragging her behind you. Then, ignoring her shriek of surprise and twisting so that you were curled around her, you jumped out of the window.

With one hand, you held onto Tullia, and with the other, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around the branch of a cherry blossom, hissing as the rough bark scratched at your palm. Bracing one leg against the trunk of the tree and wrapping the other around the branch, you loosened your grip and used your second hand to catch Tullia, stopping her from ramming into the tree at full speed. Your fall thus broken, you took a second to breathe before setting Tullia on the branch and clambering down to the ground with the swiftness of a monkey.

“Jump!” you called up to her. “I’ll catch you.”

You thought she might hesitate a bit more, but she was as game as anything. A second later, she crashed into your arms, eyes screwed shut, like she had not quite believed you would catch her despite your words to the contrary. You set her on her feet gently, letting her use your arm for support.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said. “I forgot how nice it was outside.”

“How long were you in there?” you said. She shook her head.

“I don’t know. It was hard to keep track of the time,” she said. “We should leave the grounds before someone sees me. Now that I’ve escaped, I don’t think I could ever go back. Please don’t — you won’t let him take me back, will you?”

“Of course not,” you said. “I’ll kill him before I let that happen. We can go as soon as I figure out what kind of a signal I should send to Kashimo.”

“Kashimo?” she said. “Ah, of course. Hajime. It’s not a surprise he chose a new name for himself. He never did like being called Jigoku.”

You were reminded of the fact that this girl knew Kashimo in a way you did not and never could. She had been there in his youth, had known him back before he was the god of lightning, when he was just a boy trying desperately to prove himself as someone worthy of living.

What would be a signal you could send him? What was something within your power which you could use to alert him of the fact that you had gotten Tullia, that he was free to leave the audience with Akihiro Tachibana behind?

“Do you think he knows anything about flowers?” you said. Tullia frowned, clearly deep in thought. You took the moment to work the manacle free from her ankle, letting it fall to the ground, exposing a strip of skin rubbed raw by the metal.

“Daisuke tried to teach him at one point, I think. I’m sure he remembers whatever he learnt, though I don’t know how much Daisuke got to,” she said.

“Alright,” you said. Reaching behind her, you plucked a red camellia from a nearby bush, twirling the blossom in your hands before smiling at it. This would do as a signal, provided Kashimo understood it. Calling upon a story, you tried to recall the layout of the mansion.

You have been given the Speed of the Hummingbird!

Taking off with that same thunder-like sound which always rang out at your acceleration, you raced in a blur to where you believed the window of the drawing room was. Not even slowing your pace, you placed the camellia on the sill, disappearing before anyone noticed your presence. The storm covered your tracks; the noise of your running could be put down to thunder, while the breeze left in your wake would be nothing more than a normal occurrence with such weather.

“That should be enough,” you said. “Watch over me for a second.”

“Watch over you?” Tullia said. You yawned.

You will now enter the Torpor of the Hummingbird.

You awoke from the torpor almost instantly, and as well you should — you had barely even used your cursed technique, so there was no reason for it to have any massive drawback. Tullia was still standing there, bewildered, and you were still on your feet.

“Sorry, it’s the drawback of my technique. We should go now, though; hopefully Kashimo sees the flower soon and realizes what I meant by it,” you said.

You let Tullia ride in front of you, reaching around her frail body to hold your reins. In that way, you were able to support her while also steering your horse. Once you reached the inn, you helped her down and told the innkeeper to make some tea for her while you waited for Kashimo to come.

“You met with the concubine?” he said as he burst into the room, eyes immediately on you, ignoring everything else.

“Yes. You got my signal?” you said.

“A red camellia,” he said, sounding very proud of himself for figuring it out. “It represents a noble death. A perfect choice for the occasion. You were right; it did make me think of you.”

“Oh,” you said. “Right, it does mean that as well.”

“Hajime?” Tullia said, her voice soft like she couldn’t believe her eyes.

It took a lot for Kashimo to show any emotion, so the fact that his lips parted even slightly at the sound of Tullia’s voice proved that a part of him had not really expected to ever find her. The missing piece of his childhood, the girl his best friend was in love with…you could not fathom what it felt like for him to reunite with her.

“You look like shit, Tullia,” he said finally. Tullia laughed ruefully.

“I guess it really must be you, huh? Only you would say something that crass,” she said.

“I can’t believe you ran away and ended up in a situation like this,” he said. “Do you regret it now?”

“Ran away?” Tullia said, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the wall. “It’s no surprise that that’s what they told you all. Actually, I didn’t run away at all.”

“What do you mean?” Kashimo said. He hadn’t seen where she was living, so he probably didn’t realize what she was getting at, but you had, and a kind of despair shot through your whole body as you understood what she was implying.

“I was sold,” she said. “Akihiro Tachibana did not dare defile his wife with his darker perversions, so he went looking for a girl that no one would miss. A girl who had nothing resembling a family to care about her. When he found me, he told the mistress he’d pay to take me if she promised to make it like I never existed. That must be why she told everyone I ran away.”

“Sold?” Kashimo said. It was the opposite of everything he believed in, so his shock was understandable. This girl who he had known since he was young, the one he thought was laughing in the sea without them, had been sold. She hadn’t left at all but had been forcibly taken.

“They locked me in that attic you saved me from, chained me to the bed and installed bars on the window just to ensure that I didn’t try to run away. I know it must seem like I was starved, but actually, they fed me well enough. It was poison which they deprived me of, and that is the reason I look like this,” she said.

“Poison?” you said. It was your turn to be confused — after all, how could a deprivation from poison hurt someone to the extent that Tullia had been damaged?

“It’s my cursed technique. I drink poison, and my body converts it to cursed energy,” she said. “I haven’t been able to have any since I was sold to the Tachibanas, which is why my body has deteriorated to such an extent.”

“Why didn’t you try to run away?” Kashimo said. “Why did you stay like a fool? I understand if you couldn’t break free later on, but why did you even let yourself be put in that position?”

“Do you think I wanted to be?” Tullia snapped. “Of course I didn’t! The mistress mixed something in with my dinner so that I slept through the ordeal. It couldn’t have been a poison, as my body would’ve converted that before it could impact me, but there was some plant or similar substance that she used so that I did not awaken until I was already locked away! Not everyone — not everyone is like you! Sometimes bad things just happen to people, and there’s nothing they can do but suffer through it all!”

“What did they even do to you?” Kashimo said, sufficiently cowed at the well-deserved outburst.

“At first, nothing. He tried to win me over, wanting me to do it of my own free will. I always refused, though. I insisted you and Daisuke would come for me. I insisted he would regret it once that happened. But you never did. Eventually, he told me that word had come from the orphanage that both you and Daisuke were dead. I didn’t want to believe it — it didn’t make sense, but at the same time, what other explanation was there for why you hadn’t come to save me?

“After that, I gave up and let him do as he pleased, no matter the pain it caused me. There was nothing left for me, after all, no reason to keep struggling when there was no chance anyone would rescue me or even knew I was there at all. There were a few times I came to be with child, but after the first one was born dead, he made me abort the rest,” she said. “It was the most excruciating thing. Time and time again, my body was ripped apart for nothing but a corpse to come out.”

She hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself protectively, though of course neither Kashimo nor you had any plans to hurt her.

“I will kill him,” Kashimo said matter-of-factly. “For doing that, I will kill him.”

“Wait,” you said, grabbing onto his sleeve before he could run off. He gave you an irritated look, but you shook your head. “Tullia, is that what you want? For Kashimo to kill him?”

“No,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Kashimo said. This anger was his way of showing his desperation, his helplessness at the situation, but it was not his situation in the first place. He did not have the same claim to it that Tullia did.

“It’s Tullia’s choice,” you said. “She’s the one who it happened to. She’s the one who gets to decide what happens next.”

“I want him to die, that’s for sure,” Tullia said. “But not at your hand, Hajime. It has to be me. Once I’ve regained enough strength, I will be the one to kill him myself.”

While Tullia was in the bath, cleaning herself off properly for the first time in so long, you and Kashimo sat in your room and debated what to do next.

“She’s definitely Daisuke’s girl, no doubt about it,” he said. “But who knows how long recovering will take? Can you afford to wait? The Beasts have been appearing so rapidly that even a few days’ delay might mean a lot.”

“It’s fine,” you said. “We just need to get some poison and she’ll be much better. I don’t mind waiting. It’s the only form of justice she’ll ever get for what happened to her, and I can’t deny her that. Not after how much she’s had to endure.”

Kashimo buried his face in his hands. “What a mess. I can’t believe we never tried to inquire further. We should’ve tortured it out of the mistress…why did we not? Why did we just believe her at her word?”

“You can’t go back and change it,” you said. “So you just have to focus on making amends. She’s frightened, you know, so you and Daisuke have to do everything in your power to soothe her. You must endeavor to make up for how long she was alone.”

“This isn’t my area of expertise,” he said. “I don’t know how to deal with people’s emotions and other such sentimental affairs. The only thing I could do for her would be killing Akihiro Tachibana, but she doesn’t want that.”

“Even just your presence is enough, I think. But you must be delicate in handling her. Not like how you are with me. I can take your brashness and your haughty attitude, but she can’t. So if you must yell at someone, yell at me. If you must be angry with someone, be angry at me. But do leave her alone in that regard,” you said. “Only say kind things to her, and if you cannot manage that, then don’t say anything at all.”

“Maybe silence is a bit more realistic,” he said.

“Silence is fine,” you said. “You’re not the one she really wants right now, anyways.”

“Right, that’s Daisuke. I’m just a substitute until we reach him,” he said, taking your hands and scowling down at the shallow scrapes. “By the way, how did this happen?”

“I had to grab onto a tree while escaping with Tullia,” you said. “It’s not a big deal, so I don’t see the point in activating my technique to heal them. Why?”

“I will cut that tree down,” he said, lifting one of your palms to his cheek. You used your thumb to trace the regal bone that sat there, and he closed his eyes, relaxing into the caress, which must’ve been rare for him, the one who pushed everyone away and had never known a gentle touch in his life.

“You can,” you said. “If it pleases you, you can cut down every tree in the world.”

“I don’t have to cut down every tree,” he said. “Just the ones that hurt you.”

“Then you can do that, too,” you said.

“I will do it,” he promised. “I definitely will.”

“Thank you,” you said. He was quiet for a bit, just sitting there and holding your hand to his face, like you would drop it if he were not there and he could not bear to feel you let go.

“I could not protect that girl, the one who Daisuke loved,” he said slowly, carefully, enunciating every word. “I hate that I could not, but you’re right in saying I can’t change that. But — but I can promise this: it won’t be the same for you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Because you want to kill me?” you said.

“Yes,” he said, answering with a firm, resounding swiftness. “Because of that. Because the person to kill you can not be Ten, nor Hisashi Gojo, nor anyone else. I will cut down every tree and every man in the world if it means that it can be like that — if it means that the one to kill you can be me and me alone.”

[siancore]

Attoye Canon Divergent | DarkFic | Explicit | 1.8k | Part 1/3 

Summary: Okoye offers herself to be taken by the Talokanil in place of Shuri. As is customary with prisoners of war, they are to be sacrificed to Ku'ku'lkán. However, Attuma is infatuated with the Wakandan beauty and asks his God-King if he can claim her as spoils of war. Okoye has a plan, and she will allow the Talokanil warrior have his way with her to execute her plan.

Content Warnings: Dubcon; explicit sex; language; power imbalance; obsession; violence; dark!Attuma

You are responsible for the content you consume. Heed the warnings and act accordingly.

 “Your obsession with the Surface Dweller woman is distracting you,” said Namora, as she stared up at Attuma.

He gave her a glare that was annoyed but also a warning, as he said, “You would do well to not concern yourself with what holds my interest.”

“I know how you are,” Namora stated plainly. “Your appetite and reputation has you held in esteem here by these simpleminded girls who think that you care enough to wed them after you bed them. The Wakandan warrior does not seem like she is as foolish as your usual conquests.  Can you say in all earnestness, that she would want you in return? That this obsession is worth your time and energy?”

“She will yield to me.”

“You are arrogant, Brother.”

“So I have been told,” he said while running his hand over the place where the cut the Wakandan woman had inflicted had already healed. “It works in my favor.”

“Must I remind you that spoils of war are sacrificed to Ku'ku'lkán?”

“Need I remind you that our King rewards those who are valiant in battle? She will be mine,” said Attuma resolutely. “I will have her.”

…

Okoye studied the cavern that she and Riri were confined to. It was comfortable enough. Lit by glow worms and oddly temperate. Servants brought them food and water. No one had threatened them or harmed them. She figured that was still to come.

When Okoye had said ‘take me’, she knew very well there was the chance of harm coming to her. She was ready to die in service of the throne of Wakanda. If she could somehow get the Talokanil to release the young scientist, that would be at least one battle won. If she could take out their leader while she was there, it would all be worth it. For now, the Princess was safe, and the Talokanil had what they wanted. Okoye would play her part, and then make her move. The Talokanil General seemed to take a liking to her, maybe she could use that to her advantage.

…

“You have an abundant supply of young women here who would gladly please every one of your whims,” said Ku'ku'lkán as he sat atop his throne and watched Attuma with interest. “What does this woman incite in you that you would ask for one of my sacrifices?”

“Father, I do not ask much of you,” said Attuma in earnest. “I serve you and revere you. I am a diligent servant and soldier. I want her, the Wakandan woman. I ask you graciously if you would grant me this blessing?”

“Why should I gift you such a boon? What makes this woman so special?”

Attuma took a deep breath and steadied himself, “Father, I do not admit defeat. I would rather perish. This woman, this warrior, she caught me off guard for the briefest of moments. She struck me and drew my blood.”

Ku'ku'lkán tilted his head to the side, an intrigued expression graced his handsome face, as he said, “Remarkable.”

“Indeed,” said Attuma, as he placed a fisted hand to his chest and dipped his head. “She has drawn my blood. She has seen my soul. We are bonded, my King. I must have her.”

“Yes, my Son,” Ku'ku'lkán said in earnest. “You are bonded and she is yours. Take her. You have my blessing.”

…

The young scientist had awoken and had swiftly been removed to separate chambers. Okoye had protested, had broken the arm of one of the sentry guards, and had to be restrained. Her wrists were bound and she was put in a smaller cavern behind a holographic screen that held her captive. She was a captive, there in that faraway place. She had taken note of the décor and knew this place to be an offshoot of Mesoamerican civilization. If her understanding proved true, and the Talokanil observed the practices of their ancestors, she would not be long for this world or held prisoner indefinitely. She planned to do as much damage as she could.

…

Okoye had been trained in how to endure capture. She had kept a vague count on how much time she had spent in her cell. She figured an hour or so had passed. A guard walked by the cell every thirty minutes and had passed twice already. She glanced to the ceiling but then heard muffled words from just beyond the screen. It dissolved and then she was face-to-face with her adversary.

“Get to your feet,” he ordered, his words translated by her Kimoyo beads.

“Where is the girl?” she asked, standing with some difficulty.

“She is safe,” the man replied. “What is your name?”

“General Okoye of the Dora Milaje.”

“General Attuma of Talokan,” he said with a hand to his chest. “You are mine, Okoye.”

She gave him a questioning stare as he stepped forward and swooped her up, placing her over his shoulder and carrying her away. She had wanted to protest, but there was a singing in her ear that caused her to remain quiet. She wanted to struggle, to fight him off, but the singing caused her to grow pliant. Attuma of Talokan carried her to another enclave. It was a small room with a bed in the center. He placed her onto the bed and then stepped back. She found her voice once more.

“What is the meaning of this?” Okoye demanded.

“You belong to me,” said Attuma.

“I belong to no man!” said Okoye, causing him to laugh. “You think this is amusing. Untie me and see how funny I am.”

Attuma took her in a moment, considered her, and then stepped forward. He pulled a blade from under his ex and held it out. Okoye did not flinch, though she watched his movement. He brought the blade to her face, ran the sharp edge along her jawline, and then grinned. She kept her gaze locked on his, breathed slowly, and anticipated his next move. Attuma brought the blade to where Okoye’s wrists had been tied and the cut the rope away. She went to punch him, but he caught her wrist in his hand and tutted at her.

“Come now, Pretty Flower, there is time enough for that later,” said Attuma as he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“What do you want from me?” asked Okoye, steeling herself for what was about to come.

“I am a simple man,” said Attuma, as he caressed Okoye’s face. “I want everything from you. Mind. Heart. Soul. Body. Everything.”

xXxXx

“Be still, Pretty Flower,” said the one they called Attuma. “Do not move.”

Okoye did as she was told, naked and supine on the pallet, and watched as Attuma began to remove his clothing. He began with his pauldron, placing them aside, and then took off his head dress. His hair was long and the color of a raven’s plume. Okoye was somehow entranced. He was larger than she had remembered when they had done battle. His chest was broad, his shoulders wide, and his legs thick.  Keloid scars adorned his abdomen beautifully and Okoye could not take her eyes off of him. He noticed and a crooked, amused smile tugged at his lips.

He ran his fingers over the waistband of his ex and then tugged the garment down slowly. Okoye’s eyes tracked the movement; widening when he stripped the loincloth away to reveal his erection. It sprang forward and stood proudly. Okoye swallowed hard at the sight of Attuma’s manhood. It was large. Long and thick. The tip was leaking from his arousal. Okoye felt a pulsing between her legs.

Okoye had always been in control. Always knew what she wanted, even from a young age. She always had her sights set on things bigger than herself. Always put other people’s needs before her own. She was a leader. Someone people looked to for guidance. Someone who had a lot weighing on her shoulders. She was playful at heart, but her outward image hardly allowed her to express it. Rarely had she afforded herself the chance to just be. To let go. To relinquish the tight grasp she had over her life. That was until she met Attuma of Talokan. Until he was standing in front of her, in all of his naked glory, staring at her like he was a starved man who would gladly devour her.

Attuma stood there, stroking his big cock in his big hand, watching Okoye.

“Open your legs,” he ordered and Okoye did as he commanded.

Attuma shifted closer and kneeled on the bed. He glanced down at Okoye’s sex, spread open for him. She was wet and shimmering. This pleased him.

“You are wet for me, hmm? So easily?”

“Fuck you,” she replied.

“In time,” he said and placed a hand to her thigh and squeezed.

He drew her legs further apart and looked closer. She felt so vulnerable like that, spreadeagled and pliant to his touch. He began to stroke his cock and growled at the sight of Okoye’s juices slowly running from her swollen folds down to her ass. He pressed a finger to her sex, and she let out a shameless moan.

“You really are a pretty flower,” he said as he leaned down between her thighs. “You have the loveliest gash I have seen.”

“Your mouth is filthy,” said Okoye, even though a pleasured shiver coursed through her body at his vulgar words.

He smiled at her and brought his face closer to her sex, before saying, “I know.”

He licked his tongue over her slit causing her to writhe at the contact. Attuma then kissed his way up Okoye’s body, between her breasts, before coming to her mouth. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip before capturing her mouth in a claiming kiss. She tasted the remnants of her own arousal on his tongue.

“You are sweet,” he said as he kissed her neck and lapped at her earlobe. “A perfect match to my brininess.”

He kissed her clavicle and said, “You are warm: A match to my coolness.”

Attuma positioned himself between Okoye’s legs and rubbed the tip of his cock against her opening.

“You are soft,” he whispered, causing her skin to prickle. “So soft against my hardness.”

He kissed Okoye’s lips once more as he inched himself inside of her sweet, hot cunt.

“You are mine,” he murmured as her walls enveloped his length. “Say it.”

Okoye’s eyes rolled shut at the sensation of being impaled by Attuma. He bottomed out and stayed there, stretching her around his girth; breathing against her skin; holding her in place.

“Say it, Pretty Flower,” Attuma demanded as he placed a firm hand to her throat. “Say that you are mine.”

Okoye swallowed hard and then opened her eyes, staring into Attuma’s before saying, “If you covet me, you had better show me how badly you want me. You had better prove it.”

Attuma smiled down at Okoye, tightened his grip on her throat, and then withdrew his cock to the tip before thrusting it into her with bone shattering force.

“For you,” he said breathlessly, as he drove himself into her again and again. “Gladly.”

[plasma-studios]

The Weight of Wings

Cross has had a long history of the wings on his back screwing him over, but this might just take the cake. It's not the first time a ruler's vastly overestimated him, but how on earth was he to take the life of the Nightmare God? It was frankly ridiculous.

The fellow Avian that's also been abducted by the frankly rather mad King for the same purpose fully agrees. What was his name again? Dream?

Or: Cross's an enslaved Avian who must now find a way to kill the Nightmare God (which may or may not be an Avian Nightmare that's just gained quite a reputation through the centuries) or risk his new master's wrath. At least he has the lovely company of another Avian named Dream, who definitely isn't Nightmare's brother, what?

Sequel to two bleeding birds (x), inspired by How to Fly with Clipped Wings by lockergirl.

Chapter 1: To be Winged

Cross' childhood occurs within the decorated halls of the Church. For a time, he doesn't think much about the wings on his back, even as the Priests around him debate and question his origins; he's perfectly content to exist as he is now.

That is, until the Queen of their nation decides she wants the Church's little Avian, and barters with the Priests for Cross.

There were many theories about the origin of Avians. Some thought they were gifts of life from the Mother of All. Some even believed them to be Her children. Angels, they called the reverently. Demigods, too. Gifted with power, blessed with glory. And when an Avian’s wings were fully stretched out, their glory was hard to deny. Though perhaps labelling that as divinity was a tad melodramatic.

Some thought them to be demons from hell. Cursed to be forever inhuman, to be forever stuck between sky and earth. Beasts, one’s voice said whilst trembling with fear. A number thought they were more animal than anything. Stories arose of feral creatures as predator as one could be. Wild, untamed creatures of instinct and raw power, rather than beings of celestial origin. 

Avians were so rare that one would more likely meet an angel or demon than meet one, so it wasn’t as if there was much public knowledge about the fabled creatures. There were only theories, and oh, the people thrived off mysteries such as them. Be it with reverence, fear, or disdain, the people simply loved to talk about Avians. They loved to theorise, or perhaps they loved to hear other people theorising. 

Personally, Cross didn’t subscribe to any one theory. His own opinion of his own regularly shifted from “curse” to “blessing” at any one moment in the day. Most of the time, he felt nothing about his wings. They were no miracle, but nor were they a terrible curse; they’d been with him for as long as he could remember, and he was sure that he’d remember some divine being blessing him or some wretched thing cursing him.

The Priests held opinions that were slightly different from his own, by virtue of the fact that he did not have any opinions about being winged. They all seemed to vaguely believe that his existence was by the action of some God, but they could not seem to agree on the same God, nor on the same reason, nor on anything else. Even simple things like how he’d even gotten to the Church in the first place were subject to debate.

When he asked, the first reply he’d gotten was that he’d been left swaddled in blankets on the doorstep of the Church as a babe. “By who?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Some unknown benefactor,” A Priest added with a tiresome tone.

On other days, with other priests, his question would’ve received different answers. The Mother of All delivered you to us, so we’d be able to raise you in pious presence. Cross would’ve probably appreciated the lengthier answer more if he understood what pious meant. 

You fell down from the heavens, straight into our Church was another one. Once, he’d watched a star falling down from the sky, leaving a streak of light behind it. A Priest had called it a shooting star. Did that mean he was a star? 

“Yes—” “No!”

They had spoken at the same time, and were now glaring at each other. A third Priest quickly ushered him away. “Come now, Cross,” They had spoken to him, calling him by what they had named him. At least the origin story for that was constant; he’d been named after the simple pattern in the blankets he’d been swaddled in as a babe: simple, criss-crossing lines in otherwise plain cloth (or so some claimed, because others said it had been the finest linen). It had meant to be a temporary nickname, but it had stuck.

Cross didn’t fully understand their theories even when they quoted doctrine and claimed truth, because everything felt much too grand for the pair of wings on his back. They were just like his arm, or his leg. What made them so special?

Once, a Priest had taken one look at him and called him demon.

Cross never saw them again after that, and if he asked about it, the conversation was quickly redirected. Secretly, though, he pondered it. Demons were fallen angels, right? And supposedly, he’d fallen from the skies. If he was not a star, was he an angel? A fallen angel?

“Am I a fallen angel?” He’d asked once. He’d been met with silence, then was quickly hushed, with so many Priests talking over each other that he couldn’t make much sense of their words. 

Gradually, the Priests stopped discussing the nature of his existence as he reached the ages were he began understanding words and retaining information. He didn’t mind that all that much. He was perfectly content to exist as he was now. 

A day came when the Priests were fussing over him more than they usually did. He’d thought nothing much of it even as he was being dressed in the fancier robes usually reserved for holy days, and the simple ah, must’ve forgotten about some occasion was a passing thought. 

It was when Cross was brought to a room instead of the banquet hall that he began to realise that the occasion was not quite another holy celebration. 

He would later learn that the woman he came face to face with was the Queen of their nation. In the moment, though, all he knew instinctively was that she was not another Priest, for she had been dressed not in the holy hues of white but in a deep wine red. She had also been adorned with more jewellery than considered appropriate for Priests, though the crown on her head should’ve surely clued Cross in on her identity before a Priest discreetly gestured for him to bow.

He did, a moment later.

She looked him over, tilted her head, and nodded. “What’s your price?”

Cross had not entirely made sense of the matter until the affair was already complete, and he was taken by the hand by the Queen’s guards and led out the room. The Priests quickly caught up to them, but as they spoke to him, he could only make sense of only one thing of all that they were telling him: he was being made to leave.

[jiyongssi]

dong youngbae, the human he is:

a loyal friend who's there life and death

a hardworking team member who does everything with only the benefit of the whole team in mind

a respectful team player who knows when to speak his mind and let the leader pave the path

a protective family man who's good at providing his beloveds private life and seperating work from home

a gentleman who never once yelled at fans but simply requests them for privacy which they give and that shows just how effective simple communication can be (exhibit fxxk it bts)

a disciplined man who never gives up despite the hardship and continues his effort for the long term run

a determined person who sees things through (he could have just dropped an album but he did everything to participate and even solo tour at the age when its definitely fucking exhausting)

an inspiration for so many things (mentioned above) also for ageing not gracefully but youthfully like age; who?

a celebrity you'll never get disappointed to meet because youngbae reaches back as much as you reach out to him (i can write an essay about this but just know if you send him a letter, he reads it. if you give him a gift, he uses/wears it) - so fucking rewarding to be his fan. period.

humble king who never put himself on a pedestal and think he's too above to film tiktok with new celebs or collaborate with them or appear on their yt shows or even make friends and hang out with them

a forever grateful human being recognizing his blessings and being thankful and knows when an how to cherish them (the way he held onto daesung's hand post his concert because how many times daesung supported him through his tour... )

an endless provider; from songs, dances, quality ass contents to food and beverage when you see him in person (who else does it like him??)

our eternal short (but compacted with goodness) king 👑

[raineandsky]

#39

Contrary to popular belief, being a court jester has more perks than one would assume.

It’s a simple job, really. Easy to do. You just have to know how to juggle and make crude jokes on the spot and that’s about all it takes to get into the royal palace.

Anytime he’s not entertaining or sleeping off such he’s exploring. There’s a calm—and use—in figuring out the twists and turns of the corridors, the views from the windows, the hidden corners that no one else seems to know exists.

Today is about as normal as the rest of them. The jester is ushered up horrendously early, dressed in his frankly embarrassing entertainment clothes, and dumped at a crude kitchen table with a bowl of whatever slop has been made this morning. Not even twenty minutes after greeting the waking world he’s trekking through the halls and shoving the doors open to the king’s conference room.

“Bless the gods of good humour for your existence,” is the greeting the king gives him. It’s a new one, that’s for sure. The general is standing next to him, looking as dour as always at his entrance, and for a moment the jester questions whether he read the call for entertainment right.

“I’m unsure if my existence warrants a blessing for those already blessed, my liege,” the jester says lightly, and the king positively roars with laughter. It barely deserves a pity laugh in his mind, but he’s learnt the intricacies of the king’s humour in his time here. What the jester thinks is funny doesn’t even see the light of day when he’s working.

“Close the door, my boy, these are private matters.” The jester isn’t exactly sure whether he means to shut them on the way out, but after a moment the king adds: “I could do with something a little lighthearted in a moment like this.”

His general frowns worriedly as the king sinks into his throne with a content sigh. “With all due respect, my liege—” which the jester has learnt means ‘I’m about to insult your god-given authority’ “—you are right, these are private matters. I’m unsure if an audience is a good idea.”

The king waves him off idly. “The boy is hilarious, and in times like these a little fun never hurt anyone. I could use a good mockery of the little brats on our borders, anyway.”

The jester glances at the general with the hopes of conveying the question of ‘what?’, but all he gets is blanked. “My liege—”

“The supposed queen is bringing forces to my walls, general.” The king leans back in his chair, his eyes perusing a map splayed out on the table. “What do you suggest we do?”

The general’s gaze finally flits to the jester, but the boy’s question has already been answered. His eyes are locked to the map instead, staring at the little wooden soldiers circling the kingdom. “From what I can see, they’re aiming to cut off our entrances,” the general says after a moment of deliberation pointed blatantly at the jester. “Anywhere they’re not doing this, there’s been sightings of catapults. They’re going to bring this city down if they can.”

“So?”

“So…” His stare casts onto the map as well, stepping forwards to shift some of the figures about. “We catch them early. There’s an exit they don’t seem to have noticed in the North—if we can beat them to our walls we have the element of surprise and the advantage of not bringing the fight to civilians.”

“I like that idea, general. Has the queen been sighted with her men?”

“Not that I’ve heard, my liege. Most likely she’s hiding in her own kingdom.”

This has all been too much of a shitshow to comprehend, let alone make fun of, and all the jester can think to say is; “what a coward.”

The king glances at him like he just remembered he’s there, but he chuckles regardless. “Indeed. We have the advantage of fear if we know this. We can strike her while they’re busy trying to destroy us.”

“And once they get news of their own kingdom being attacked, they’ll no doubt retreat,” the general adds, and the king gives him a hearty slap on the back that would probably topple anyone else. “We have a plan. We split our forces—some to hold the fort here, and some to destroy their army from the top of the food chain.”

“That’s a bad idea.”

The general and the king frankly look a little incensed at the jester’s input. Shit. It wasn’t meant to come out, but he’s already here, he supposes. “They’re sending their entire army to us,” he continues. There’s a loop on his belt at hand level that’s suddenly getting a lot of love with the rising anxiety of talking out of line. “Shouldn’t we focus on defending ourselves first? If we split, she’s already won.”

“Do you suddenly understand the strategies of war, jester?” the general spits. “I can’t say you’re particularly humorous today.”

“I agree,” the king says, and his tone is that of a business deal. “Thank you for your time, boy. You’re excused.”

He would say something else, but the glares he’s getting are enough to get him executed. So he bows to the king, calmly lets himself out, and bolts.

He comes across one of the cooks when he bursts into the kitchen, who looks a little startled to see him. “Jesus, did you run here or something?” she asks over his haggard panting, and she sighs when he manages to give her the slightest nod.

“Get… get someone else to… take over this,” the jester says between desperate breaths. “We have to go. There’s– there’s horses in the stables that we could probably take–”

“Slow down, kid,” the cook interjects quickly. “Is something going on? Did someone find out?”

“We have to tell the queen to retreat. There’s a secret exit that they want to use to catch her forces by surprise, and the king wants to kill her while she's separated from her defences. I– I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but… oh god, we don’t stand a chance.”

The cook has taken to staring into the distance in thought, before she suddenly abandons her pot on the table with a hearty clunk. “Grab the horses. The army’s still a few days away from here—we can beat them to it if we run.”