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lani-heart · 4 months

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|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, rejection word count -> 2.1k

abstract -> my soul was always yours... im sorry it took this long

flashback – heeseung’s perspective

“But I don’t want to go,” I told my sister. She sighed and continued to fix my hair for this stupid day. “Come on, maybe you’ll find friends,” she said with a grin and I scoffed. “This is different from you, you actually found friends” I whined and I knew she was already worried but I dreaded having to go to a new school.

“Heeseung, be brave for me okay?” she said and I rolled my eyes but agreed. I held her hand tightly as I saw the school in front of us.

Belift Boarding School for Young Witches.

“You’ll pick me up, right?” I asked and she smiled. “I’ll be right here to hear how your day went little brother,” she said as I waved her goodbye. I hated the thought of starting a new school.

Only for the kids to treat me like an idiot, a monster, anything but human. I wanted to find Jungwon and Sunoo… but I didn’t know if they were incarnated again. Or the other boys… maybe even Sooha. Anyone to make me feel less alone.

This is a stupid school, filled with idiots!

The orphanage just had to make me go here. It's dumb. Filled with kids who don’t even know simple magic, what is this school?! Then again… noona would just say it's because I have my memories of past lives that I know about my abilities.

“Hey! That’s mine!” I heard and I noticed the mean kids didn’t target me… maybe cause I was placed as a top student when the school tested me. No one wants to bully a kid who knows more magic than them… maybe it's better I went to an all-witches school this time around.

I wouldn’t have vampires or werewolves messing with me.

The group of boys threw her books out of the window and I scoffed. “Oops! Sorry y/n!” they said and laughed but she didn’t cry nor yell at them to stop. Instead, she looked angry.

I was going to help her but… I laughed.

It seemed that they all now looked at me confused. “What are you laughing at!?” they yelled and I couldn’t stop. “Maybe… look in a mirror!” I said, trying to stop. She must've done a basic spell to do that… she gave them weirdly colored hair. One had a giraffe pattern, the other a zebra, and their leader a cow.

It looked funny on them. They all looked at each other and argued. They didn’t even notice the girl scoff and walk towards me.

“You could’ve let them figure it out,” she said and I chuckled. “Sorry to take away your surprise, but want help finding your books?” I asked and she smiled. “Please?” she asked and I swear I fell in love at the very moment. Her smile and shining eyes…

“I’m y/n by the way… what’s your name?”

Twas the night before the masquerade.

“I wrote her the best card!” Sunoo praised as he tied his bow tie. “In your dreams! She’s gonna choose me to be her date!” Jake said and I laughed. “How bad was your writing on that card?” I said and everyone laughed. “Hey! That doesn’t matter!” he said and I chuckled.

“Heeseung-hyung… do you know who she chose?” Jungwon asked and I smiled. “Who knows?” I said and they groaned. I left first wandering outside…

Why was I nervous?

If I was being honest with myself I didn’t let myself read her mind. A part of me begged for her to choose me… despite how selfish I've been.

In my confession, I asked her to meet me in the back of the school at the flower field. Each minute went by that I wanted to turn back… I know that she was sure her card was from Sunoo. So why was I still–

“Heeseung?” I heard and I felt like I was alive again. The feeling like throwing up, the anxiety, the cold sweat… I turned to see her in a beautiful dress, dolled up and everything.

“You’re the one who sent this?” she asked, confused and I gave her a nervous smile.

“Will you let me explain everything?”

y/n’s perspective

I sat down wanting to at least hear him out. I guess I did choose one of my soulmates… just not the one who–

“I never wanted to reject you,” he said… Did I mishear him? “When I saw you again I… felt alive, like there's a heartbeat in my chest. You make me just as nervous though…” he said and I was confused.

This wasn’t the Heeseung I knew–

“I’m not… you met Heeseung. The vampire, the one who in his past life was devoted to a princess… but a long time ago you met Evan” he said and I felt my eyes widen.

Evan?

“Pathetic right? I gave you my English name and lied to you saying I was a foreigner when we were kids… I just didn’t want you to know about me. Jake told me you met my sister… I was a witch who attended Belift Boarding School for young witches” he said… Evan.

The boy who always met up with me after classes… the boy who helped me prank the other kids in my class.

“I don’t understand," I said, confused…

“I think I’ve loved you since I first saw you, y/n”

When we first met I felt drawn to love at first sight. I loved you then and I love you now, I’ll always be there to lift you up even if you don't want me there. I want to be the only one to cherish and love you. To die and live for you and only you. So I can only dream you would do that for me.

“Then why? You were one the meanest! You rejected me first! You’re a liar… you… why?” I yelled until I realized I was getting emotional.

“Don’t cry… not when you have six other soulmates–” “Answer me” I said and he smiled a soft smile.

A smile that… I've only seen once… when he comforted me after what happened with Jake.

“Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon were in love with Sooha… they don’t know this but you do. If you have more than one soulmate and you try to–" "To bond with a few of them then the bond eventually dies' ' I finished for him and he gave me a sad smile.

“I knew Jungwon would want to be with you even without the bond and so would Niki and Sunoo. I wasn’t sure though… but here you are” he said and I scoffed.

“You shouldn’t make decisions for other people,” I said and he gave me a sad smile. “I know… but when it affects your magic I was willing to break you apart from them when not all of them were going to accept you easily,” he said and I sighed.

It's why I couldn’t defend myself against Jake… also why my magic has been faltering recently.

When a witch's soulmate bond is rejected… and fighting for the bond drains your magic. You can fix either by rejecting your mates back… or having them accept you. It's also why Wonyoung broke my bond temporarily… so my magic can temporarily regenerate.

“You turned into a vampire?” I asked and he chuckled. “Not willingly… but I can live with it. My sister recommended that I go to Decelis. So im learning to come to terms with it” he said and I nodded.

“You really do look pretty… you would have to be the prettiest person in the school” he said as he lifted his hand up to tuck my hair away.

“Prettier than Sooha?” I asked and he chuckled. “Believe it or not, I've never loved Sooha. She was more like a sister to me… my own sister took care of me in this life. While I took care of Sooha in another… So I didn’t reject you to have Sooha… I would have to be a fool” he said and I was shocked.

“Go to your party… you worked hard for it. They’re all waiting–" "But I chose your message, "I said, cutting him off.

“Oh? I guess you did… It would be a bad example if the president of the student council of Bright Sun didn’t follow her own rules” he said and I chuckled.

“Shall we?”

We arrived now with our masks on and I took everything in.

I soon heard him chuckle beside me… “They’re all jealous and annoyed,” he said and I sighed. “They must be confused about who I chose?” I asked and he nodded.

“They’d never guess me,” he said and I nodded… I looked at him, he was happy. He had a grin on his face… not so serious like other times. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, will you give me at least one dance?” he asked and I smiled and took his hand.

I enjoyed my time with him… this was the Evan I knew. My best friend from elementary school graduated and I never heard of it again.

“I wish you would let me choose my own path, you know,” I said as we swayed to the music. He smiled… “I know better than anyone… what rejecting mates does to a witch. You were fighting for the bond… and it was eating your magic” he said and he wasn’t wrong. I jeopardized myself… but they didn’t know that.

“How do you know about that?” I asked and he sighed. “Let's just say my sister… she experienced it,” he said and I felt my eyes widen.

“Don’t worry… she’s fine. Can I ask–” “We will be announcing our king and queen!” I heard Wonyoung’s voice. “Now we have included this year to not just include witches or any magic users only. So please be open-minded to one another and let us accept other species into our traditions” she said and I smiled.

It was controversial but it was all fun and to be enjoyed.

“Our king… is K from Riverfield!” she announced and I was shocked. K? I soon saw him join the stage… “And our queen… Sooha from Declis” she announced. What? Not everything was wrong–

“EJ and Wonyoung are doing me a favor… Sunghoon can put aside his ego for this one time” Heeseung said. The King was voted most times for Sunghoon and the Queen was Wonyoung… So what was going on?

I looked back at them getting their crowns and smiling at each other… “They’ve accepted one another,” said and he nodded.

“K finally has some sense… and Sooha is finally thinking clearly,” he said and I chuckled. “Thank you… even though you tampered with my event” I said and he laughed.

“I’m sorry, I'll make it up to you,” he said and I smirked. “Oh? Then I know how you can '' I said and he looked at me shocked. “We’re soulmates right, Evan?” I asked and he laughed.

“Yes, we’re soulmates y/n. I’m sorry for everything… but I'm willing to do anything for you. I promise my little witch” he said and I smiled.

“y/n!!” I heard and I saw Sunoo and Jungwon. “You bastard! What'd you do to our soulmate!” Sunoo yelled and I laughed.

“I chose his message… sorry boys,” I said and they pouted.

“Yeah, so I won fair and square,” he said and Jungwon scoffed. “So did Sunghoon yet he’s drawing a punch right now,” he said and I laughed.

“I owe him a dance,” I said and I was suddenly pulled back with the hands on my hips.

“Sorry, but you’re mine tonight. I won you with my message… and I want to make up for all the time I’ve lost” he said and I nodded.

“Comfort Sunghoon please?” I asked the two boys and they nodded.

“I’m guessing you guys are all made up?” I asked and he nodded.

“Everything is right again… especially my soul that is bound to you”

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huramuna · 7 months

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banshee's lament - chapter 2.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

a former ward of alicent hightower and aemond's childhood companion, shera stark, returns to king's landing after ten years. ten years after the incident at driftmark that left her and aemond permanently disfigured. after so many years apart, shera and aemond are almost strangers. almost.

shera's voice sounds like blue diamond in this clip. a soft, dreamy whisper.

wordcount: 4.2k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence

story playlist

She’d never ventured south before and her nose wrinkled at the thought. What does the south have that the north doesn’t? Warmth, mayhaps– but you can easily make that with a fire! Pretty silks and lots of fruit, she was told. Shera wasn’t entirely sure what use she would have for pretty silks, as they'd dirty right away if she ventured in the snow– and fruit. Surely there wasn’t anything better than freshly picked blackberries and blueberries.

The little girl couldn’t sit still in the wheelhouse as she poked her head to the sliding wood window, brown eyes trying to gauge the landscape. It was certainly green! They had been on the road for a moon and a half and Shera was about to pull out her hair from boredom. The stewardess, Warra, that her father had stowed away with her for the journey, irritated Shera to no end.

‘Sit down!’

‘Stitch inward, not outward.’

‘You’re fraying the thread, be gentle.’

If looks could kill, the poor stewardess would be dead within the first week of the journey. Warra glared back at the impudent child, thinking the exact same thought.

“You must be Shera Stark,” a young woman cooed, who had greeted the little girl at her arrival to the keep. Her hair was the same shade as Shera’s. She was dressed in a green dress, and it reminded the little girl of the pine forests beyond Winterfell. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet… you,” Shera returned, curtsying with a small wobble. “M’lady.”

Shera felt an odd connection to the woman almost instantaneously, her arms held out for a hug. At the age of five, she was still very much a baby, and craved the warm touch of another person. “Are you my mumma now?” she whispered.

“Oh,” the woman murmured. “You may call me Alicent,” she added, looking slightly confused at the little girl’s request for an embrace. Alicent stared at the child for a moment, seeing herself reflected in her huge brown eyes. She scooped her up and held Shera to her hip. “It’s scary being here all alone, isn’t it?”

–

The south was no place for a wolf, she feared. Not only her own wolf, but herself as well. She heard their whispers as she arrived in the city, the stares of prying eyes, wishing to catch a glimpse of the infamous Banshee of Winterfell.

‘Twas an ugly name, Shera thought. Banshees were decrepit creatures with haunting yowls and spindling claws like cracked branches– was she truly so ugly? She hardly spoke, no less screamed, lest she awaken the still tender pain against her neck. Sometimes she would hum a broken tune from her girlhood days, but she would hardly call that a song.

The journey had taken over half a moon and was as agonizingly long as she remembered from her girlhood, even more so now. Cregan opted to leave her alone in the wheelhouse while he rode outside on his horse. She’d much rather be upon horseback than in the sweltering carriage— the movements made her ill, and she spent much of the time with her face firmly supplanted into Moongeist’s fur.

Jacaerys had offered to take Shera to King’s Landing by dragonback before they left.

“It would be a much faster and easier journey, my lady. It is even easier than riding horseback.” he exclaimed, his dragon just now grown enough to saddle two. Vermax loomed in the background on the snow laden grass, sniffing the air and making soft trilling noises. He reminded Shera of a whippoorwill.

“I… I would very much love to, my prince— but I would be blind without Moongeist with me upon arrival and I do not think Vermax would take kindly to another passenger who weighs more than you and I — and is a wolf.” she said softly. Shera wished to keep both feet supplanted on the ground— she would never acclimate to flying upon a dragon or being ferried by ship. She was prone to seasickness, and imagined dragonback no different.

Moongeist pressed to her hip, guiding her and keeping her on a straight path. Shera’s fingers laced through the thick fur of the wolf, who’d become somewhat of a guardian for her since the incident ten years ago. The loss of vision in her eye threw off her calibration of the world, often leaving her lost and clinging to walls. Cregan had procured the wolf as a pup, six moons after Shera’s return to Winterfell– she hardly remembered Moongeist as a puppy, as she lived on milk of the poppy and venison stew broth for a year.

The now gigantic wolf, Cregan citing him as a Winter King’s direwolf, acted as Shera’s eyes and balance. She could still see, of course, out of one eye– but her chronic pain debilitated her, rendering her into that sobbing, sniffling, poppy-addled child she was a decade ago. Cregan, whom Shera hardly knew when she returned, was very much the depiction of an angry wolf, pacing back and forth in the maester’s chambers for weeks. She didn’t remember much during those months, but she remembered the movement of Cregan’s shadow, bristled and looming like a creature out of fantasy.

And now she had returned to the place that started it all– ‘twas her home for eight years. Cregan was here, too, meeting with the Queen and Princess Rhaenyra on matters pertaining to Shera’s betrothal, a sign of goodwill from Alicent to somehow mend the rift between the Starks and the crown.

It all seemed very dreary to Shera. She didn’t wish to be looked at, perceived, much less married to a man, to whom she would have to share the intimacies of her disfiguration with and lay bare beneath.

Shera walked through the halls of Keep, fingers skimming over the familiar yet so foreign stone.

She looked very much like a ghost or banshee in her gown and veil, one she preferred to wear to conceal her scars, flitting through the corridors. She was often dreamy eyed, when people did see her eyes, and certainly was a touch maddened — especially since the accident at Driftmark.

She was a quiet, solemn woman now, tamed by the Queen into a proper young lady as a child under almost solely Queen Alicent’s eye as her ward— an unexpected oath that Viserys upheld, as he’d made a promise to Rickon Stark, the girl’s father, many years before. She had come to King’s Landing at the tender age of five.

Alicent brought up Shera as she saw fit—sheltered and safe, softening her rough edges and wild nature. Shera became the perfect Hightower daughter that Alicent never had, who attended prayer, read the Pointed Star of the Seven front to back and served the Gods with honor, much to the chagrin of Cregan once she returned.

She adjusted her veil as she walked towards the holdfast, thankful for the shield from the resplendent sun. Her hair was coiled into a braided bun, pinned with silver jewelry.

Shera was much a Northern lady in her appearance now, with copper hair in billowing curls. Her hair hadn’t been trimmed much in her lifetime, and when unleashed from its braided confines, it would fall past her bottom. Her unblind eye was a deep brown, edging on black, and her blind one was a milky, pupil-less blue.

Her stomach churned with anticipation and she mostly felt like vomiting. Her hands were now clenched together tightly, white knuckled, as to distract herself. She wished to see the Queen first— a way to anchor herself to reality, and would be the easiest, along with Helaena, to reacquaint herself with.

As she reached the corridor that held the queen’s chambers at the end, it was oddly bereft of people. She watched as the heavy doors swung open and a svelte figure dressed in black receded from the solar. She blinked profusely, seeing the white hair, long and taken pristine care of— and pin straight. That couldn’t be Aegon, could it?

The figure turned after closing the doors, facing Shera’s direction, who was still at the very end of a long corridor. It was not Aegon. The leather eyepatch gave it away instantly— Aemond. He had gotten tall, much taller than she by at least a foot.

They made eye contact, violet to brown— he paused, lips pursed. His form went rigid as he clearly acknowledged her presence; but said nothing.

Shera said nothing, either. The wind was taken out of her lungs, stolen by him, it seemed.

His one eye widened in surprise, then narrowed. She couldn’t parse the nature of his expression besides cold, hard steel. His fists clenched and unclenched— and he walked away in the other direction, a corridor off to the left, towards the ramparts. Away from Shera. Purposefully.

“A-Aem,” she attempted to raise her voice to call to him, but was stopped by the sting of pain. “Aem—!” she croaked again, persisting past her limits.

He looked at her again and kept going, going… until he was out of sight. Gone.

Shera wracked a cough, clutching her throat. What… was that? Did he just flee from her? She pushed her utter confusion (and ever creeping despair) aside, knocking on the queen’s door.

A handmaiden, Talya, answered. “Her grace is expecting company— if you haven’t a prior engagement, you must return later.”

“‘Tis… ‘tis the company,” Shera murmured, suppressing the urge to hack up a lung. “Shera Stark.”

The handmaiden’s eyes widened with a gleam of recognition, confusion, and then pity— she stepped aside, bowing her head.

How Shera tired of those expressions being thrown in her direction. She passed through the threshold, a shaky hand gripped into Moongeist’s fur.

“Oh— Shera?” Alicent echoed, standing up from the settee she was perched upon. She was radiant, to say the least— her hair was shorter than it had been before, but she hadn’t aged much. Aside from a lingering shadow beneath her eyes and in the depths of her irises. She was tired. “By the Seven, I hardly recognized you, my dear.”

“Your grace,” Shera whispered in greeting, once again curtsying with wobbly legs. As much as she anticipated seeing Aemond, she wished it’d been after she greeted his mother— she felt the part of a ruffled hen, her fragile demeanor temporarily cracked. “It’s… good to see you— you haven’t aged a day.”

Alicent rushed to her, only slightly phased by Moongeist, who stood now off to the side in preparations for the Queen’s no doubt touchy-feely welcome. “Your voice,” Alicent murmured, her large brown eyes wide, lips downturned. “It’s… you’re very quiet now, my sweet.” she swallowed, putting her arms around the woman— who now, inherently flinched. Shera, as a child, loved to be showered in physical affection, and loved to be hugged, kissed and snuggled by Alicent. But now, she flinched. Only for a moment— she had to get used to it again, she was much a spooked horse, skittish.

Shera nodded slowly as Alicent led her to sit. “Yes— I… I cannot sing any longer, I am deeply sorry, your grace.” she looked down at her hands.

Shera loved to sing as a child, Aemond listening to her songs, usually ones associated with the Faith of the Seven, and hummed along while he studied. They were both outcasted children, bullied and poked at to a point where they recused themselves into one another, communicating in a language that they made up— a combination of High Valyrian, which Aemond had lovingly taught Shera at the same time he was learning it, and gibberish.

“It was a terrible thing, what happened that day,” the queen said, pouring them both tea. “It was a terrible thing with naught justice brought.”

Shera sipped at the tea, letting out a soft sigh as the warm liquid soothed her irritated throat. “… I remember nary a bit, your grace— only…” she clenched the cup tightly, the memories of that day flooding back.

“You!” one of the twins bellowed.

“‘Tis I.”

“You claimed my mother’s dragon– you stole Vhagar!”

“You cannot steal a dragon.” Shera huffed, proverbial feathers already fluffed.

“I do not remember.” Shera corrected herself.

“I wish I could forget– I still remember it… all too well.” Alicent echoed. “... you must know, I– we rejoiced with the Gods when we heard we hadn’t lost you. I am remiss that we did not get a chance to say goodbye, though.”

The scream that she would never forget– the slash of Lucerys’ blade piercing and mangling Aemond’s eye.

It was a wail that haunted her dreams still.

Shera could hardly react– did they want to kill him? Were they going to kill her? She moved, shoving Lucerys down, his head hitting the wall, the blade skidding in the dust. Where were the guards? Where were the adults? Where was anyone?

As Lucerys began to cry, blood trickling from his head, Jacaerys went into a rage– fists swinging with a crooked look in his eye that Shera was afraid he would kill her. If she were to die in a skirmish, she would go down with a fight! Barreling toward Jace, she supplanted her weight into the center of his chest, scratching at his face and snapping her jaws like a rabid dog.

Then she was pushed back– but not by Jacaerys. ‘Twas Baela, the more brazen of the dragon twins. She shoved Shera back, brandishing the same dagger that Lucerys had used– it was still dripping with Aemond’s blood. She wasn’t as close as they had been, but the cut was the same, slitting up Shera’s eye as her vision filled with blood. She felt dizzy and could hardly hear herself scream over Aemond’s wails– she was silent, sputtering for breath.

“Kill her! She’s going to tell on us, Baela!” one of the other kids had cried. Shera couldn’t remember who.

Her body went into shock– she didn’t even feel the knife slice her throat, her mumbles coming out as garbled choking, spitting up blood–

Her hand went to her throat absentmindedly, feeling the raised scar where she’d been slashed by that damned knife. The maesters said it was an act of the Gods that it didn’t hit a prominent vein— but as the Gods give, they taketh away. She couldn’t sing any longer, nor hardly talk above a whisper, and was not able to see out of one of her eyes. It wasn’t taken out like Aemond’s, but muted into a milky blue color.

“... I’ve missed you much, your grace,” Shera uttered, her hand snaking to Alicent’s as she clutched it with a small tremble.

“We cannot change the past, Shera– we can only… forge our future,” Alicent returned her squeeze with a smile, brows downturned. “... do you wish to marry him, my dear?”

Shera breathed audibly. Did she want to? Was that her wish? No– of course it wasn’t. It wasn’t– Jace had changed much since the incident on Driftmark, but she feared how to tell him that she would wake up sobbing from nightmares about him, about him and his brother and his cousins, brutalizing her. It was twisted, in truth, how when they would share a bed, how they would have to conceive an heir, how she would have to let him touch her. He would be gentle, she knew, he would let her take her time and be studious and princely and all the things encompassing the future King after his mother– but she wouldn’t be able to truly look at him without thinking of that, of the pain, the blood filling her throat, gurgling and drowning in her own life’s essence–

“... yes, your grace.” Shera responded. “I wish to… marry Jacaerys Velaryon and mend the rift between the crown and the Starks.”

Alicent’s brow furrowed and she regarded Shera for a long moment before nodding. “Then… it shall be done.”

–

Shera felt her skin prickle into goosebumps as she left the queen’s solar. She felt flustered, like she’d been pricked in the bum by a thousand needles– she sorely needed to go to the Weirwood and pray. As she turned to abscond to the ramparts, she was stopped. A pair of arms boxed her against the wall, the scent of dragon and sandalwood overwhelming her senses. Moongeist let out a growl at the intruder, but Shera silenced him with a hand gesture. She knew who it was, of course– she carefully lifted her gaze to him. Aemond.

“Ñuha dārilaros,” My prince, she murmured in High Valyrian– she had rehearsed her greeting to him so many times over the years in her head. Her eyes roved over his form, taking in all of the changes of nearly a decade. He was tall, so much taller than she was now, his once curled hair straightened to a point. His aquiline nose led to his mouth, pursed in anticipation, in challenge. “… it’s good to see you.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed, his hands still boxing in, as if he were the wolf and she the prey. He looked like a shadow of the boy she once knew— he had all the makings of a predator now, a true dragon in his own right. “Shera,” he grunted. “I’m surprised you remember our lessons, I can’t imagine you use it much anymore, talking to weirwood trees and wolves, or not talking much at all, I’ve heard.” his voice was so laissez-faire, but it held an unmistakable edge to it, like a sheathed blade.

Her jaw clenched at his tone. She wasn’t expecting a warm reunion like no time had passed, but she wasn’t expecting to be iced out, either. Her mouth twinged in irritation, bleeding into a pang of sorrow in her chest. They had been so close all those years ago, so close that at times it felt they were fused as one— was he so unhappy to see her? She instinctively thumbed over her choker again, poking the tip of her finger into the cool threading to anchor herself. Moongeist pressed to her hip, sensing her change in emotion. The wolf stared at Aemond before nudging Shera’s hand atop his head in an effort to calm her. “I may not speak it much anymore… but I still remember. We learned it together.”

Aemond’s hand reached out to inspect the veil concealing her face between his thumb and forefinger, as if testing its worth. His violet eye roamed over the outline of her face— he couldn’t quite see all of her from behind the wretched garment, which seemingly agitated him. “You always had such an excellent memory, my lady. You look much like the banshee they say you are with this… veil. Why do you insist on wearing such a thing, it mustn’t be so terrible under there, is it? Not like mine– they took it out. I heard you still have yours, don't you?” he paused, “Why have you returned?” he tugged on the laced curtain, earning him an annoyed whine from Shera and a rumbling growl from Moongeist. He was so callous now, so rough— like unhewn wood, splintering at the edges.

“I wear it for the same reason you wear your eyepatch– It appears that my brother, your mother and sister, as well as the Gods have other plans for me. I’m to be betrothed.” Shera whispered back, her hand going to her throat as she felt an acute pain from raising her voice a bit too high.

Aemond’s pupil wavered as he looked her over, concerned over her mewl of pain, then the realization of what she’d said coming over him. “Betrothed,” he said, his voice flat and clipped. “Betrothed,” he repeated again, his grip on her veil increasing. “And who is it? Who dares to try and claim the banshee of Winterfell? I always thought it would be me to claim you, hm? But you ran away to the North and replaced me with a dog.” he eyed the giant black and gray wolf with a curled lip.

A flush of heat came to her cheeks. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me such things, it's a nasty name. I didn’t expect you of all people to pay attention to court gossip,” she scoffed. “It’s none of your concern whom I’m to marry, Aemond.” Shera let out a breath.

“Who. Is. It?” he continued, spitting each word through gritted teeth.

“That isn’t for me to say. Your mother wishes to announce it formally at dinner tonight.” Shera distanced herself from him as he rescinded now, allowing her some breathing room. She smoothed down her dress and fixed her veil. She sighed inwardly, based on his reaction now, that once Alicent announces her betrothed tonight, he will lose it. She can only speculate how severely he will react when he finds out that his once close companion is being betrothed to someone he loathes.

He squinted slightly, resting his hands behind his back, foot planted carefully on the ground. “I pray then,” he said with somewhat condescension, “that they aren’t terribly important— all the easier for them to be charred fodder for Vhagar’s belly.”

Shera snorted, twisting her sapphire signet ring on her middle finger, shaking her head. “You jest, my prince.”

“Not a jest, sweet wolf. Think of it as a promise.”

“You cannot,” she glanced up, her veil rippling with the sudden movement of her head. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

“What is so unbelievable about my promise?”

“You act as if you have a claim over me, Aemond,” she whispered his name, her voice taut as she swallowed a sting of pain from the sudden change in tone. “No one has a claim over me, least of all you.” she coughed, her hand clutching her throat as she awkwardly took in a breath, stretching the limits of her injured vocal cords. Shera let out a strained sigh, shaking her head.

Aemond’s nostrils flared at her words, his jaw clenching. “No one? And yet, you let your brother sell you off like a broodmare. Or mayhaps a prized bitch.” he glanced at the wolf at their feet. “You’ll let him sully you? That basta–,”

Another voice broke the heated conversation. “Brother,” a cool tone said. It was Rhaenyra, on her way to Alicent’s solar. “… Shera.” she squinted slightly, violet eyes darting between Moongeist and the pair.

“Sister.” Aemond responded, clipped and short.

“Princess,” Shera greeted shakily, bowing her head.

“We shall see you tonight at dinner, won’t we, Aemond?” Rhaenyra asked, cocking her head.

“I suppose I can be persuaded. I’m quite busy, though and don’t have much time for idle pleasantries.” he dipped his head, facing away from Shera now. “Ladies.” he bid his farewell, stalking off like a half-cocked dragon.

Once he was out of earshot, Rhaenyra leaned close to Shera. “You should steer clear of my brother. You were companions once— but he’s different now,” she paused, taking a breath. “I only have your best interest at heart, dearest. For you and Jace.”

“… thank you, princess,” Shera swallowed, grasping her skirts. “I will… keep that in mind.”

Rhaenyra gave a nod before disappearing into Alicent’s chambers– leaving behind an exceedingly frazzled Shera, who retreated to the Godswood.

–

Kneeling down before the ancient weirwood, she clasped her hands together. “For guidance… for peace…” she murmured, staring at the face etched into the red wood, its eyes bleeding. It felt familiar, in a way.

“So, which is it? The Old Gods, or the new?” a deep voice interjected into her prayers. She didn’t recognize it at all. Glancing over, she took in the figure of an older man, dressed in black leather and cloth with white hair cropped to his shoulders. A sword was strapped to his waist. Dark Sister.

“Prince Daemon,” Shera sighed, not entirely up to verbally spar with the Rogue Prince. “... I am praying to the Old Gods, as is custom in the North.”

“Ah? And here I’d heard you were quite the little septa in your youth, singing hymns like a… delightful little sparrow.”

“... that isn’t untrue– I… I hold both the Old and new ways–”

“What does your brother think of such a thing? Northerners are so rigid in their worship.”

“It isn’t my brother’s concern–”

“Well, mayhaps you shall start learning of the Valyrian gods, if you’re to be married to Jacaerys.”

“I know… a few, my prince. Tessarion, Meraxes, Shrykos….” she paused, brow furrowing under her veil. “Vhagar.” Shera gave a pointed stare to Daemon.

“Ah, knowledgeable you are. You must be a bookworm like my dear nephew. But, you forgot quite a few– Syrax, Meleys, Arrax, Vermax, Caraxes… the list goes on. I won’t fault you for forgetting them. You have quite a few Gods on your plate already, young wolf.” Daemon gave a toothy smile, extending his hand to her. It was ungloved and looked calloused, old scars littering over his skin like shells on a beach. “Do you need assistance getting up?”

Against her better judgment, Shera took his hand. It was warm, unnaturally so like all of the Targaryens. He hoisted her up to her feet, steadying her with an overreaching hand upon her waist. It made her skin crawl.

“Very good,” he hummed. “Enjoy your prayers, Lady Stark.”

Moongeist grumbled uneasily next to her, eyeing the Rogue Prince with a wary amber gaze. Shera felt sick.

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #banshees lament #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond x original female character #aemond x ofc

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rizsu · 1 year

Text

gossip girls: dumbass edition oikawa, sunarin.

sum. when they reveal their gf for the first time.

contrary to the rumors, oikawa isn't quite the womanizer you'd believe he is. he's cute, tall, charming and athletic but his personality? it's okay — certainly not what his fanbase makes him out to be. in front of others, oikawa is a master at sweet-talking. he can joke his way out of trouble any time, any day. in front of his newly founded crush? he has back-up on speed dial.

oikawa is absolutely concerning at flirting. yes, he can flirt but that's up to a certain degree. he's all "wanna kiss?" until you agree. astonished is he at anyone that flirts back. dump all blame onto his fangirls that gush and faint over his presence.

and to that, we reach the current scenery: iwaizumi hajime versus oikawa toru — the trilogy. aoba johsai's male volleyball team knows no peace whenever their seniors step foot into the gym.

"what happened again..?" kindaichi's confusion results in a group-sigh. clearly he hasn't been here long enough.

"dunno. oikawa probably instigated it," munching on his straw, kunimi continues to become one with the floor, entertained by the personal television that blessed the gym today ( oikawa and iwaizumi ).

on another note, it's guessing game time! the reason behind their current bicker is:

a) oikawa toru

b) oikawa toru ( offender )

c) oikawa toru ( mildly offended )

d) oikawa toru ( victim )

answer? there isn't a single wrong one. in that exact order, oikawa unleashed the beast in iwaizumi. at first, 'twas a simple conversation; hanamaki and matsukawa gossiping at the sidelines while oikawa and iwaizumi did some warm-ups. all-in-all, hanamaki was the perpetrator here — curiosity dominated him which lead to him questioning oikawa, not caring about the consequences.

"say, toru, who's that girl you've been walking home with these days?" with his hands on his hip, hanamaki made sure to lace his question with attitude.

"oh right — who's the unlucky girl?" matsukawa joins.

stopping himself mid-jump, iwaizumi narrows his eyes at oikawa, "is this the reason for you slacking off?"

oikawa holds another volleyball, bouncing it on the floor as he whistles, "whatever could you possibly mean?"

and cue the dramatic background music as four teenagers stand in silence. one person thinks that someone's lying while the other three believe that the one person is feigning confusion.

"now don't play dumb, idioikawa," matsukawa teases.

"what the fuck is an IDIOIKAWA?!" offended, oikawa throws the ball at matsukawa — to which had failed to fulfill its purpose of hitting him.

"idiot oikawa but abbreviated — if that's the correct word," throwing back the ball, matsukawa high-fives hanamaki as he scored his goal ( oikawa's head ).

iwaizumi, however, is still confused. this must be the after-effects of having the group chat on muted. raising the net, iwaizumi crosses under the net and stands with both hands on hip. this stance means business.

"well. get to explaining," iwaizumi demands.

"you're so rude! no wonder you get no girls," oikawa's offended expression did not go unnoticed; but to him, he thinks that his insult went by smoothly. too smoothly. usually he feels the energy of iwaizumi towering over but.. it's calm.

both matsukawa and hanamaki share their gazes — a silent conversation occurred where matsukawa raised his eyebrows and hanamaki nodded. he's gonna get it, they both agree.

suna rintaro, osamu miya and atsumu miya sit in a tense silence. it's intense — the fate of their friendship lies in osamu's next move. what will he do? will he throw away 10 years of trust or will he save it by dumping the choice on atsumu?

the two hold their gazes on osamu — applying more pressure onto him. he's sweating, heaving, heart racing at what he should do as his next move. deciding to bet on doing something devious, he only hopes that the two can forgive him.

"literally fuck you, 'samu," suna curses, shoving a middle finger to osamu's way. after osamu, suna was to move next. now he's stuck because of his friend's move.

"BLESS YOU, TWIN!" atsumu cheers at osamu's move. he can only thank god that he wasn't after osamu.

suna's face sours as he looks at the amount of cards in his hand. he was close. he was so close to yelling "UNO!" yet osamu — osamu just had to drop a "+4" card on him. talk about fake.

"i'm sorry rin — i couldn't give you that win," osamu tries his best to diffuse suna's anger. when it comes to uno, osamu will do anything to be the winner. anything.

"yeah, okay. and you wonder why i talk to y/n more," suna grumbles.

"oh —" stopping himself, atsumu slaps a palm over his mouth. he is shocked — how can his twin counter this!?

osamu's eyes bulge. the forbidden truth has been revealed. he must — at any cost — tank and counter suna's attack.

"you finally got a girl, huh? you're catching up to me!" osamu teases, giving himself a pat on the back for his comeback.

atsumu's hands goes behind his head. his mouth opens in shock, "oh... if i was you, rin.."

suna's clenches his jaw. he knows he cannot heal himself from the -10 HP lost. gearing up his weapon ( a pillow ), suna slaps it on osamu's face. if he can't win verbally, he'll win physically.

what in god's name are they doing? suna's mother judges from the kitchen. she decided to make some homemade snacks for the boys but it seems like they're too busy to eat them..

i am forever a sunarin girl dont forget

#. ae-generated: haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #suna x reader #oikawa toru x reader #suna rintarou x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu drabbles

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keirawantstocry · 7 months

Note

Hi am back. yes i will so totally be 💋anon and i will probably be back a lot (i have reqs just gotta sort through em). more soft kisses for jealous tubbo, twas great :>

On the note of specifically tubbo + fit, you remeber how there was the joke(??) of them getting married in Vegas? maybe something on that actually happening and pac finding out? like offhandedly mentioned or like, them talking about marrying tubbo or smthn idk go buck wild.

(question do you prefer v vague reqs, a little detail, a lotta detail or options?) Hope youre having a good day :>

oh do I remember it. I think I was in tubbos chat when it happened. I remember watching it unfold live. I would LOVE to expand on it

(I love all requests to be honest. but I do appreciate a bit of detail because it gives me a starting point to go off of)

“Aren't you two going to get married?” Bagi asked. The three of them were sitting inside Bagi's house at her dining room table when she asked. She picked up the cup of coffee in front of her and raised her eyebrow before taking a sip.

Pac laughed nervously. “Bagi, I don't know if-”

“Can't people only get married once?” Fit asked.

Pac and Bagi turned to look at him, twin looks of confusion on their faces. “Sim,” Bagi said. “Why do you ask?”

Fit looked up and took a long swig of tea. “Oh, well, I'm married.”

“Oh right to Spreen yeah?” Pac asked. “We can get that annulled with the Federation surely. Not that we need to,” he rushed to clarify. “Baby steps.”

Fit shook his head. “No, not Spreen. That's a Federation thing only. I'm legally married. Of my own choice.”

“To who?” Bagi asked incredulously.

Pac felt a rush of jealousy go through him. It wasn't necessarily that he wanted to marry Fit but it felt weird that he had never brought this spouse up before. They told each other everything.

“Tubbo.”

The Brazilains stared at him. The jealousy dissipated as Pac laughed.

“You are married to Tubbo??”

“Why??” Bagi asked as Fit joined Pac in laughing.

Fit shrugged. “We got drunk in Vegas. Made out. Tubbo acted like some kind of prudish Catholic woman. Said I had to marry him if I was gonna try and get in his pants.” He chuckled. “I don't think he expected me to take him seriously. But I carried him to the first courthouse I saw and we got married.”

Pac perked up. “Did you have sex?”

Bagi smacked him.

“Ow!”

“You can't just ask if they had sex!” Bagi slapped her forehead as pushed back her chair.

“I'm sorry he was the one who implied it!” Pac yelled back.

Fit laughed at both of them Not answering the question, Pac noted.

Pac cornered him after they left. “Did you have sex? What does he kiss like? He's a good kisser isn't he? Can I sleep with him? Your husband, I should probably get permission you know.”

“Whoa whoa, slow down.” Fit chuckled quietly. “You're not mad?”

Pac stopped dead. “Why would I be mad?”

“Uh, cause we're dating and I didn't tell you that I'm married.”

Pac waved him off. “Oh please. It's Tubbo.” He perked up again. “Can we all be official? I want to kiss him. Can I kiss your husband?”

Fit laughed, his whole body relaxing. “Yeah you can kiss him. Kiss him as much as you want.”

Pac pumped his fist in the air. “Let's fucking go! Okay, bye Fitch. I'll see you later. I'm going to go kiss him!!!”

“OI TUBBO!”

Tubbo looked up from the chest he was currently searching. “Pac? What's up dude?”

“You and Fit got married?”

Tubbo's eyes widened in fear. Fuck. “Okay, yeah, hey I'm sorry I don't mean to intrude on you guys and-”

He was cut off by Pac's hands on his face. “Calma. Be my boyfriend? You're very cute.”

Tubbo blinked in surprise. “You… you want me?”

Pac's eyes landed on his lips before licking his own. “Sim, sim, por favor.”

Tubbo was nodding. Nodding and nodding. And he was being kissed and it was wonderful and soft. Pac tasted like sweets. He wasn't sure exactly what had just occurred but he was definitely not opposed to it.

#my writing #qsmp #fanfiction #💋 anon #poly morning crew #fitbo #fitpac #fitpacbo #pacbo #q!tubbo #q!fit #q!pac

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first-edition · 4 months

Text

Fox and the Hound

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more.

Cw for chapter- pregnancy, 18+ words and themes overall. Angst, death of husband, not prof read apologies for any errors, mention of sexual assault.

// A/N: just wanted to apologize for the broken links at the beginning of the book since i changed my username they haven’t been working but i assure you I’ll get to fixing them. I will also end up making a goggle docs with the entire book for downloading when this series ends//

previous chapter here

Chapter 19

Somewhere along the coast line the temperature became more fridged than it could’ve ever needed to be. You’d packed a few warm items but layered up heavily none the less. The boat at port long ago and the carragie and horsemen’s ride to castle black was nothing short of ‘fucking freezing’ as joss had put it.

You arrived safe however. The gate immedetly opened at the hint of your arrival and despite the men being rapers, murdering, thieves and criminals they welcomed you with bows.

“Welcome your highness your presence here blesses us all.” John speaks as he walks up to you before bowing.

“You don’t need to do that.” You say helping him stand again. He chuckles nervously.

“I want to thank you. For letting me stay here i recon with the long days I’ve been over seas the plague in volantis and the other corners has long since gone.” You say

“you can never be too carful.” He says smiling you smile back to him before opening your arms he pulls you in for a hug but pulls away for a brief moment only to look down a bit where your stomach is hidden under your large cloak.

“Are you…” he trails off you nod.

“Wasn’t by any ill hand if you're insinuating. ‘Twas my husbands doing.” You say he frowns with hint of a smile and confusion.

“We have much to discuss.” You say he chuckles and nods.

“Apparently.” He laughs.

“Y/n!” You hear a voice as John move out of your way Sansa hurriedly walks to you before hugging you but once again pulling back realizing your stomach.

“Sandor.” You say she smiles and hugs you again.

“Ive missed you so much” she says not letting go. As if you were.

“Me too.” You say taking a few more seconds to hug your best friend before pulling away.

“You found your way here after the fight in kingslanding?” You ask.

“Yes but not on my own i have news to share with you much news.” She says you smile and nod.

“Oh. This this my head lady in waiting Lucy, this is Sarah, and Meleesa. This is my squire joss stilwood” you introduce they Curtis and bow as followed.

“Lets get you out of the cold first and ill show you your quarters and then i can share with you the much needed to speak about news.” Sansa says. You smile to her as she takes your hand leading you.

———

“queen of the north..why arnt you in winterfell then if youre queen. Why isn’t john?” You ask

“we have people holding down the fort. And im much more rather be stationed here at castle black more to do, however we will be going back there in the next month before the winter gets rough and id like you to come with, better rooms less men crawling about.” She says giggling at the last bit you laugh as well.

“you dont look the same.” You say Turing to her.

“Neither do you.” She replies.

“What? Is it my large belly?” You joke she chuckles and shakes her head.

“N-no..you…you seem sadder.” She says.

“As do you..what happened after black water Sansa?…” you ask quietly. She takes a seat on the bed next to you before taking a breath.

“Jeoffry was bethrothed to someone else the lady Margery Tyrell of house highgarden-“ she begins

“lady olenas granddaughter?” You ask she nods

“Tyrion and i married.” She begins again

“you married Tyrion Lannister?!” You ask shocked as ever.

“I still needed to marry a Lannister per my fathers death note. He was kind, didn’t touch me kept me pure. At Joffrey's wedding he was poisoned and killed. Lord belish grabbed me and ran with me away from the gruesome sight i was put into a boat and we left for the vale to my aunt Lysa…but…only a few days there and- well we left eventually and he..he sold me to Ramsey Bolton. He wasn’t so kind in the marragie. He raped me abused me. But he got his dues.” She says

“hes dead?” You ask. sansa nods a bit to proudly.

“How?…”

“hounds.” She says as he is well known for his love of using dogs to tear apart his vitcims.

”then i ended up here little finger is with me but i hope not for long, john barley trusts him and good measure too anyone who trusts littlefinger is fool.” She says.

”i heard about the battle outside of the Bolton fields. Im glad you won.” You say. She dodges the scentece and asks you about yourself.

“What of you? Your pregnant and showing for the gods sake. I rembering sitting on your bed you covered in bruises from him and now you carry his child.” she says

“alright first of all it wasn’t like that you and i both know that Sandor didn’t bruise me for power it was an accident you’ve seen him, hes a lot larger than most assume.” You say.

“In all honesty are you sure hes not part giant or something how can a man be that large and not be.” She jokes leaving you two to share another laugh before you continue on.

“After black water Sandor joss and i were heading to volantis, home, but we got separated in princes pass by a theivery ambush he sent joss and i with the horse away while he fought the others off. We were supposed to meet at sunspear but the horse had an accident so we had to sale off at salt shore. We arrived in volants not long after porting and stayed for a while before the sickness hit. my father died from it and the last i saw of my mother she had it.” You say.

“Then…what of volantis?” She asks.

“Im next in line since my brother is gone and sandor is to reign with me but, if my mother passes on as well i do not want to sit on a throne the rest of my life and bark orders at people. I dont want to be queen and i can reassure you sandor does not want to be king.” You reply.

“What of sandor any news from him?” She wonders.

“…no…out paths haven’t crossed, hes not arrived in volantis and i fear the worst for him. I cannot be certain of his demise as theres not raven sent or sign but…” you trail off as she take you hand.

“You’ll see him again. I know you love him and that’s enough to hold to. Dont you think?” She says you nod. She smiles. You nod giving her a quick hug before she speaks again and hops up.

“Come on! There’s someone i want you meet another lady. A lady knight.” She says you raise you eyebrows confused.

“Can ladies be a knight?” You ask.

“She is! Come on.” She exclaims. You get up pulling you cloak on and following her out of the room and through the halls.

———

“lady Brienne!?” Santa calls to her as she pushes the sparing mate into the pile of snow before turning to face Sansa.

”lady Sansa.” Brienne says bowing slightly. You admire her features strong yet still faire shes very tall and could almost apose sandor. She wears armor with a cloak to keep her a bit warm.

“This is princess y/n of volantis, house vixen, married to house clegane by friend. We met in kingslanding when both had a debt to pay from our parents. Y/n this is Brienne of Tarth.” Sansa introduces you. Brienne gets down on her knees and lowers her head as soon as the word princess and volantis are uttered.

“Your highness its an honor” Brianne says.

“Oh no please..” you say asking you up she obeys and takes her stand.

“She will be living with us till the foreseeable furture.” Sansa continues.

“Pleasure to have you along.” Brienne speaks.

“Lady Brienne this is my squire joss stilwood. If you should need anything of battle value joss may provide.” You reply to her.

“My lady.” Joss says bowing a bit.

“This is my um..squire podrick.” She answers.

“Your highness.” Podrick says

“weren’t you tyrion lannister's squire?” You ask him.

“Yes your highness i was. He relieved me and i offered my useage to lady Brienne.” He replies to you.

“Hmm you and joss should have much to talk about two squires from kings landing with royal practice.. should be fun.” You say a smile on your face.

“If you dont mind my ask who did you squire for before?” Brianne asks joss.

“Ser Gregor clegane then his brother sandor clegane during the battle of black water.” He says to her.

“Y-your highness you said you married into the house clegane?” Brianne asks you.

“Yes. You ask this why?” You ask.

“F-forgive me but erm.. your husband, He was large dented metal armor, ugly, scruffy… he had his face scarred on the left.” She says. You nod.

“Ser sandor clegane..” podrick says in a ‘oh shit’ sort of way

“Why?” You ask a slight winge in your voice.

“Your highness. While It was means to get lady Sansa’s sister back to her safety, we fought, hard, I was scared I wasn’t going to win, but I’d hit him with a rock and kicked him off the cliff…..I….I didn’t see him move at the bottom.”

“What..” you voice strained as tears threaten your eyes.

“I-im sorry…you um…are you sure he was dead?” Sansa asks briskly. A lump forms in your throat as she asks you wait for the impending answer.

“Yes…i-“ before she can finish her apology you shortly gather your dress ends up with a whimper and hurry away from the others tears running down your cheeks as you run outside the gates as they open for other coming into the fort your hand clutching your stomach as you fall your knees sobbing into the snow.

“Y/n..y/n” Sansa says hurrying twords you kneeling to you pulling you into a hug as you sob in her arms.

“Shh-sh” she shushes as you sob in her arms. The pure thought of the love of your life your husband who’s reunion you’d been keeping up hope for was dead. All you had of him now was his child. He will never get to see his son or daughter. He will never get to see you.

Next chapter here

TAGLIST. If you’d like to be added to the tag list please leave a comment down below.

Taglist @stephyshadows@germansarechill@urfavbiscuit@daphneyblue@takemeaemond@holb32@allison-119@pxstelink@imsolonelyimissyou@myshitaccount@broadsdrinkwhisky@@evie-beanie@eulysa23-2@greeknymph18@rudiruds@ex160-blog1@im-an-assho1e@chompwoman@heartb8k2@lovely--lover ex160-blog1 @midnightprocrastinator @haus-of-a-thousand-fandoms @friendlyspacemartian

#sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane x you #sandorclegane #sandor x reader #sandor clegane #sandor clegane smut #fox and the hound first edition #fox and the hound #Sandro clegane x princess reader

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blorboazula · 2 months

Text

Mood

Prompt #043 from 100 Days of Azutara Drabbles Challenge | masterlist | modern au, established relationship, cw: implied mental health issues

Sometimes Azula had a mind-numbing bad day, followed by multiple unpleasant but bearable days. It could be tough. But not as exhausting as when she had days and days that she could almost bedrot. A couple of weeks in which there was nothing Katara could do other than try to make sure she was still drinking water and didn’t starve herself.

It was easy for Katara to feel like she was the worst girlfriend in the world even if it wasn’t something they couldn’t control. Trying to force help onto her would make it worse, a heartbreaking situation.

But Azula had been getting better, with the therapy and medication and a support system. (It also made it a little easier for Katara, knowing she wasn’t the only one that wanted nothing but Azula to heal, keep making progress). A slow process, it had downs, but still a process moving forward and Katara couldn’t help being proud of all the progress Azula has made recently.

The last few weeks had been tough, Azula had finally got enough energy to get off bed. She had been really talking again and last night, she even cooked them a simple dinner. Simple but it was still better than how she acted when her mood was down. So Katara decided to give her a little bit more help.

Something that seemed to cheer Azula up was one of their silly little dates in downtown Republic City. It was adorable, in Katara’s opinion, that Azula was all stoic and cold, but actually loved to do silly little things with her girlfriend.

It was just a walk, getting an ice cream and maybe some flowers, nothing much more than that. Katara was aware that just being together in peace was special enough, Azula seemed to think all their time together was special. Adorable, lovely girlfriend. (Really, Katara would never get tired for calling Azula her girlfriend). It was really cute, Katara had expected that basically a princess would need more than just quality time together to be satisfied by their dates.

“Where are we going?” Azula had the cute little frown she always had when she was confused.

“I know how last days had been… rough. So I’m taking you out,” Azula flushed red when she got a cheek kiss. “Is that alright?”

“Everything we do is alright.”

“Good answer, babe.”

It didn’t matter for how long they’ve been in a relationship, there was always a hint of surprised when Katara did this kind of simple, but nice thing for her. I twas sadder than adorable, but Katara could handle all heartbreak for Azula’s sake.

#azutara #atla azula #atla #atla au #atla katara #atla fic #azutara fic

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mybeautifuldelirium · 2 years

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Hi, can I request an angst prom "And you left me!" with aegon ii, please, maybe reader is rhaenyra's daughter and she goes to dragonstone but never contacts aegon, so when she comes back to kingslanding she is already engaged to someone and maybe she is expecting a baby👀 (by the way, reader and aegon got along super well, they had a nice friendship and aegon always hoped to marry her) thanks!

And you left me! || Aegon ii x reader

Part 2

A/N: took some liberty w this request but the overall premise is the same :)

Had so much fun writing for Aegon so I hope you enjoy 💚 and lmk if you’d like to be in my Aegon ii x reader tag list xx

Warnings: ANGST!, targ incest, Aegon being Aegon, some fluff

Y/N Velaryon never thought that her feet would once again grace the shores of the Crownlands, her homeland. It had been so long, many moons had passed, many years. Though how many in number, she couldn’t say, long ago she had lost track. Yet there she stood, by the gates of the very place that held all those memories she had fought to forget.

“Is everything alright, my dear?” Rhaenyra placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder “You look pale; mayhaps the travel didn’t fare you well?”

“No, mother, no need to worry, I’m fine” the princess put her hand on top of hers “It’s just…this place…”

“Y/N, don’t” Rhaenyra cut the girl off, cupping her cheek “You’re no longer a child, you’re a woman betrothed, remember that”

Y/N had forgotten how insanely huge the keep was, the countless corridors weaving into one another forming into a maze. The princess was trying to locate her childhood bedchambers when shouts of fury stopped her in her tracks. Curiosity took over her body and she gingerly slid by the agape doors.

Oh how she wished she hadn’t done that, alas too late it was. Her eyes fell on the very face she had desperately tried to erase from her mind, the face of her once dearest friend, Aegon Targaryen. Y/N sucked in a gasp, clutching her hand by her chest.

He stood there, in the flesh, so close before her yet he hadn’t noticed her presence. The prince sat naked, covered by a single sheet on his bed, his silver locks, a mess falling down his face, deep violet eyes bloodshot red with tears as he desperately looked at his mother who was screaming and cursing at him.

Y/N’s heart clenched at the sight of his state, a small part, deep inside of her, wanted to rush towards his embrace and wipe away his tears much like she used to when they were children, but she was no longer a child.

The princess was so deeply indulged in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed her weight shifting onto the heavy door, making a small screeching sound. Aegon’s face suddenly shot towards the doors, his teary violet eyes widening as if he’d seen a ghost. Y/N could see the pure shock and confusion written on his features as if he was trying to convince himself ‘twas not a dream but before he could say anything, before Alicent could turn her head, the princess ran away, cursing at herself, trying to hold in the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes.

The king had ordered for a supper in honor of the family being together at once. Y/N dreaded that night, she couldn’t bear to see Aegon’s face again. The princess thought she had long ago ripped out the memories from her heart, the fond memories they shared as children and yet since that day, his broken, teary face had kept plaguing her thoughts and dreams. But who was Y/N to refuse the wishes of her grandsire, her king.

Despite the cheerful music, the tension in the dining hall was suffocating, all these familiar faces gathered around the lavish table felt so distant and estranged.

“You all made me so happy, honoring my request and gathering here as a family” the king smiled lightly, examining the room “Aegon? Where is Aegon?”

Y/N felt her heartbeat fastening at the mention of his name as she had foolishly hoped he wouldn’t show up.

“He’s on his way, I’m sure, my dear” Alicent faked a smile, quickly glancing at the doors, hoping to see her son.

“Forgive my delay, father, mother” Aegon slurred, entering the hall. He was in a much more presentable state than when the princess last saw him yet his eyes still held that sadness.

Y/N nervously bit her lip, praying he wouldn’t pick the empty seat beside her which of course, he did.

“Ah, if that’s not my beloved niece, It’s been so long; I’ve missed you too, you know” he smirked at her, lifting the wine cup to his lips “Next time you peer at me through my bedchambers’ doors, just come in, I would gladly have your company”

The princess choked on her food, shock washing over her features. She could feel the rage building up in her younger brothers while her mother shot her an outraged look.

“Perhaps, dear uncle, you’d be just as gracious to congratulate my beloved sister on her betrothal” Jace glared at him.

These words struck at Aegon’s heart like an arrow, making him slam his cup down in disbelief, his demeanor suddenly dropping. But why? Was it sadness, anger or could it have even been jealousy?

But before Y/N was able to realize what was going on, the prince had already pulled back his composure or more so cockiness.

“Is that so, dear niece? Quite unfortunate, truly” he scoffed, bringing the goblet back to his lips “Well, if you ever wonder how it feels to be truly satisfied, you already know where my bedchambers are”

“Aegon!” Y/N slapped his shoulder in disbelief, much like she used to back in the days when he would make inappropriate remarks about the maids.

“Ouch! ‘Twas a mere jest, dear niece” the prince grinned “Unless-”

“I see you haven’t changed one bit, Aegon” Y/N scrunched her nose “Just as insufferable”

“Perhaps, my princess. But I see you’ve changed, you’ve changed in a lot of ways” he smirked, eyeing her figure. But before Y/N was able to chastise him, his eyes grew dark and heavy with sadness as he quietly mumbled under his breath “Alas for that promise of yours”

‘What promise was he talking about’ the princess thought to herself, she reached her hand towards Aegon, prompting him for further explanation but was interrupted by Aemond who had gotten up, wishing for a toast for her “strong” brothers.

“And let’s not forget, to our beloved niece’s betrothal and how “strong” she is, to forget of my dear brother” he smirked slyly.

‘Twas when hell broke loose, her younger brothers charging towards Aemond, initiating a petty fight. Y/N instantly stood up, heading towards them as someone pulled her by her arm.

“Go back to your chambers” Rhaenyra gave her a stern look “Daemon and I will take care of this”

“B-but mother I-”

“You heard me Y/N! It’s for your own good”

The princess threw one last glance at the ordeal yet what or rather who caught her eyes was Aegon who just kept drowning himself in wine seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

Y/N was back in her childhood bedchambers, her only safe place, everything looked the exact same, apart from the new silk cushions that were nicely laid on the spacious bed. It was as if she had never left, as if all those years hadn’t passed before her eyes.

The young maiden was about to lay and drift into a sweet slumber when the doors creaked open, a tall figure slowly heading towards her.

Y/N was on the verge of a scream when the flickering light of the candles outlined that unmistakable silver head.

“A-Aegon?!” She squinted her eyes “What in the seven hells are you doing here?!”

“Oh, I thought this was my bedchamber, is it not?” He barely slurred his words, plopping himself on the bed beside her “Or perhaps this time you decided to come in, instead of peering through my doorframe”

The strong stench of wine filled Y/N’s lungs which further proved that even dead drunk Aegon was just as insufferable.

“You must go, this is highly inappropriate” she gasped, covering her thinly clothed body and shifting further from him “What if someone comes in and sees you?!”

“Hmm, yeah, you’ve changed” he mumbled “That never used to bother you”

“Yes, Aegon! Things have changed” she persisted, pushing him to sit up “You’re married for gods’ sake and I am betrothed!”

“Ah yes, that thing” he let out a sarcastic laugh “And who is he? The bastard that managed to sweep the indomitable Y/N off her feet”

“Lord Cregan Stark if it so concerns you, uncle” the princess tried to maintain the confidence in her voice “I trust he shall be an honorable and loyal husband”

“Pfft honor” Aegon scoffed “All this cunt could do is bore you to death”

“Don’t you dare speak of him as such” she glared at him “He is to be my husband”

These words as if sobered the drunk prince who now sat directly before her.

“I was supposed to be your husband” he suddenly screamed, his handsome face overwhelmed with emotions “You were supposed to belong to me, not to some pathetic northern bastard”

“A-Aegon w-what are you-” Y/N’s eyes widened in shock at his confession.

“You promised, you promised” he cried, no longer trying to contain his emotions “On my 13th nameday you promised to be mine! But you lied, you lied and you left me!”

Y/N’s heart sank to her feet, of course she remembered that day, no matter how hard she had tried she could never forget it. It was the day she had excitedly woken up Aegon, her closest friend, at dawn, leading him to the great weirwood tree where she had giddily kissed his cheek and made this very promise. The promise to wed him and only him. Alas for her mother seeing them from afar, taking her away to Dragonstone, making her swear to never speak of him again, to forget him.

“Oh, Aegon, you know it was not my decision to make, we were but children” the princess reached her hand towards his face only for him to push it away.

“Aemond was right. You forgot about me! You never cared for me! It was all a lie!” He spat , tears rolling down his face “I should’ve known, nobody can ever love me, not even my own mother, let alone you. You who always run after your forsworn mother and bastard brothers”

These cruel words made Y/N swiftly raise her hand, but then she saw the pain in his beautiful violet gaze. He was broken, eyes blood red and swollen, clear tears, staining his ivory cheeks and yet she could still clearly see the face of that young boy who was always belittled and pushed aside, that young boy who she had long ago fallen for. Aegon flinched, preparing himself for the hit of her palm. But, it never came, instead he felt her warm embrace as she pulled his head towards her chest, gripping strongly at his head of silver curls as if scared he’d disappear any moment.

“I’m sorry, oh, Aegon I’m so sorry” she whispered through tears “I tried, I truly tried to pull you out of my heart, but I couldn’t, I could never, I would never”

The prince let out one last cry as he tightened his arms around her, nuzzling his face in her neck.

Those few minutes in each other’s arms felt like a blissful eternity as they fell back now laying tangled on the soft mattress just like they used to as children, much to their mothers’ disapproval.

“Do you love him?” Aegon hesitantly broke the silence, sitting up to look at her eyes “That Cregan Stark, your betrothed”

“I’ve never met him, even. How could I possibly love him?” She chuckled, palming his face, brushing few tears away

“Don’t marry him” Aegon pleaded, leaning into her touch “Stay here, stay here with me. Marry me, like you promised”

“We both know that’s not possible, my prince” Y/N lightly shook her head as tears were once again filling her eyes.

“You are to be king Aegon! You shall fulfill your father’s last wish” Alicent pulled at her son’s arm “It is your duty”

“He had 20 years to name me heir and never did, because he never loved me.” He sobbed “I have no wish to rule!”

“And yet, with his final breath, he whispered to me that you should take his place on the throne.” The queen insisted, tightening her grip.

“Only on one condition shall I obey” Aegon narrowed his gaze “I am to take Y/N Velaryon as my second wife like Aegon the Conqueror did. She is to be my queen”

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #hotd imagine #hotd x reader

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christiwhitson · 5 months

Text

Haltingly, he explained the way their paths had crossed near Craigh na Dun and how he’d felt when he saw her, first held her.

“Even before she regained consciousness, I was drawn to her. I couldna stand thought of anyone else touchin’ her, so I put her on my horse and refused to hear a word against it. And then when she finally opened her eyes… There really aren’t words to describe it properly. It was… profound. Like she was the reason I was born.”

Jamie looked at his wife then and got a little lost in her eyes for a moment, unable to pull his gaze away until his sister emitted a quiet scoff. To his surprise, Jenny only looked patiently amused.

“Aye, you’re right royally besotted, a bhalaich. ‘Tis clear as day.”

“That I am,” he agreed with a grin. “But ‘tis more than that… It didn’t take long to realize we were connected in a way that defied all logic. It was as though we were tied to each other by an invisible cord that grew shorter each day and caused terrible pain when we were apart. I thought I was going mad at first, but then I realized it wasna just me--Claire felt it too. Though, she tried to fight it.”

Claire smiled sheepishly but didn’t interrupt.

“‘Twas so much bigger, so much more than simply falling in love, a nighean. It was a true, spiritual connection, and it wasn’t until weeks later that I finally learned the cause of it. It was… magic.”

Jamie paused, watching his sister’s face. Her expression was a mixture of confusion, bemusement, and skepticism, as though she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or check his breath for the scent of whisky.

#outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #outlander fanfiction #claire actually is a witch #wizarding world fanfiction #droughtlander

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centellazul · 4 months

Note

Olympea: Jamaharōa, Galaxia! 'Twas a surprise to explore this strange dimension and find an unfamiliar Hero of Yore! Ohh, I hardly know how these time and space anomalies work. I do so miss my home and friends... Ah! Mind that not! 'Tis clear as day: while our methods differ, thou hast the spirit of a warrior. How thy golden helmet shineth! As a fellow helmet enthusiast I pray 'tis as sturdy as it is dashing, so that it might aid thee in thy many adventures.

—Pinkestmenace

"Hello !!"

"to be honest, I also have a hard time understanding how this anomaly works, it's quite confusing"

"And so it is! This helmet has accompanied me for a long time, and protected me in many battles and adventures! the strongest I have ever worked with"

"(Incluso con las salvajadas de Galacta Knight...)"

"Anyway, nice to meet you and more a Hero of Yore! And I have to say, your armor is quite beautiful! Especially the gauntlets!"

[Extra drawing!]

[I really wanted to do it justice, as I was not convinced by the answer xp]

[She is very cool]

#I hope it's good enough... Sorry for the delay!#kirby series #monigotesfeos #kirby oc #kirby oc tournament #galaxia

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wanzerous · 3 months

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍.

you were out of this world. literally. you crashed in mondstat with no recollection of yourself. your name? you didn't know it. your birthday? nothing. all you had were the clothes on your back. completely defenseless, you were approached by the knights of favonius who brought you in for interrogation. and before you knew it, you were questioned by a guy with a careful demeanor and another with a love for 'subjects'. kaeya x fem!reader x albedo.

.☆。• *₊° 003 - 𝙰 𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃 𝚄𝙽𝙵𝙾𝙻𝙳𝚂

❝ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑. 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒... 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘. . . ❞ 𝑺𝑨𝒀𝑼 , 𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑴𝑶 𝑽𝑰𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 .

you were left alone for the remaining of the night. resting in the cool bed you were offered in the lone room. eyelashes fluttered, as slightly puffy eyes gazed out the window. the moon was so bright and full ... it was pretty to look at and admire. the soft whistle of the wind, and a soft tune that you had never heard before. the exciting music seemed to subside; the cheering and clapping came to an end. the music you heard was so soft, almost like the sound of a ... flute? ah, or maybe lyre? it was beautiful, and it became a lullaby for you. the sheets rested gently across your body, and you closed your eyes. the sound -- eventually growing muffled before you drifted into an easy sleep.

you were tired. so tired, that you felt like your body fell through the bed... and the floor ... and beyond the world you were physically in. your body felt heavier; as if you were being pulled down to the core of it all. and yet, you weren't afraid. it almost felt like home.

· •. •. ✶ * . •

morning rose, and the birds sang. the once relaxing moonlight was overthrown by the feverish sun. said sun burned your eyes, and you stirred in your sleep, before slowly opening them. your vision was cloudy, but you pushed yourself up and rubbed them. you rubbed away the sleep; a soft pout of your lips as you yawned. " you're awake, " a relaxing voice spoke, and you jumped before looking to find the source. as your vision cleared, you took in the appearance of a shorter male with blond hair, " good morning. "

you identified the gentleman as albedo. he sat in the corner with a sketchbook in his hand. how long was he there? you furrowed your brows in confusion as you let your hands rest in your lap, " good ... morning. " you greeted him, as he focused on the book in his hand. there was a slight, very subtle smile as he closed the book and stood up, " did i startle you? " albedo questioned, with a slight raise of his brow. you weren't sure if it was a trick question or not. you stared dumbly, before nodding your head.

" i see. " albedo took note, " my apologies, then. " he then looked over at the door as there was a small knock before it was opened, " hey! you awake? " amber questioned, poking her head into the room, " oh! mister albedo! what are you doing here? " amber smiled, stepping into the room before looking over at you and waved, " good morning! did you sleep alright?"

you figured this was a sign that you needed to get yourself together. you pushed yourself onto your feet, your body shivering at the coolness of the wooden floors. you smiled and nodded your head at amber as she gave a thumbs up. you began to quickly fix the bed to the best of your ability, before running a hand through your hair to work out any kinks.

" i merely came to sketch her, 'twas all . " albedo answered as amber tilted her head, " she appears to be an excellent model. especially when asleep. " albedo clarified himself, " she wears gentle features. it is quite easy to captivate it on paper. " so that explains why he was just sitting there. but when did he get there? did he ever sleep? you tried to piece it together, but it only hurt your head. and then your stomach growled, and you froze. so embarrassing!

" oh! i came to bring you to breakfast! master jean's request, of course! " amber finally spoke up, " mister albedo, would you - "

" no thank you. i have research to work on. " albedo shook his head, " thank you for the offer. perhaps later. " that was his cue to leave. he gathered his sketchbook, and left the room, " he's so anti-social. " the brunette grumbled, " anyway, come on! it's a beautiful day, so we'll be sharing it outside! that, and because she intended on showing you around town! " amber marched forward and took your hand, guiding you out the room ...

HUMANS WERE SO FRIENDLY.

WAIT .... HUMANS?

why did you isolate yourself as if you were not human!?

you were pulled down the large stairs; amber jumped from the last stair or two before landing perfectly on her feet. and before you, stood master jean and miss lisa. they waited for you at the grand door, and you felt nervous once more. " sir kaeya isn't joining us? " amber asked and jean smiled wishing you good morning before speaking, " he will not be. he intends on joining us for lunch, though. " jean spoke before looking you over. " was the room to your liking? " the attention fell on you, and you grew shy. with a nod, you went to slightly hide behind amber.

you didn't know why you were still so shy with them. they were so sweet to you; they took you in, fed you, gave you clothes ... so why did you feel so secretive with them? you never spoke to them; they never heard your voice, but kaeya did. albedo now did. for some odd reason, you felt so much safer when they were around. especially kaeya.

albedo put you a bit on edge. he was silent, and he had an observant gaze that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. he smelled of the unknown, and you feared that. something about him threw you off, and yet kaeya ... smelt so alluring. the bat of his eyelashes, and the whites of his teeth ... the sultriness in his voice, and the firm hold of his grip ... you weren't sure. but even he had that scent of the unknown. it was something you picked up easily.

you were led out of the headquarters and under the bright sun. the breeze swayed through your hair and you shut your eyes at the coolness. the weather wasn't overly hot nor cold, but just right. your finger grazed along with the stone fencing, before taking in the sight of the large statue you could spot over a tall wall. that must be the statue that barbara was talking about ... the anemo archon, right? from where you stood, it was beautiful. the wings spread from afar made you feel a bit of sadness. you weren't able to figure out why, but you silently followed the others down the many stairs.

eventually, the scenery grew quite familiar. the town square that was brought to life at night seemed quiet for the moment, and bare. a few bustling people here and there. and the smell of delicious food made your stomach growl once more. " good morning! your table is ready! i'll bring your food right out " sara waved with a smile, gesturing to a table to fit the four of you.

you sat, and admired the town. it was light. like ... the wind was just... so light. moments later, sara brought out trays of food and beverages. tea break pancakes, mint jelly, sweet glazed bacon, eggs, and toast with jam .. it all looked amazing! your eyes widened at the food, and lisa giggled, " don't be shy cutie, dig in, " she smiled and gestured to the food, " help yourself. " jean added on. and you couldn't help but nod, and do what they told. you made a plate with a bit of everything; the food from last night was so good, you wondered if it would be just as good now.

and it surely was.

you ate with a soft blush and content hums. you enjoyed the food, while they ate and spoke softly. they decided that they wouldn't pressure you to speak since you haven't done so just yet. with your cheeks full, a soft tune rests on your ears. the one from last night, was it? the soft strum of a lyre that was so delicate that you were shocked you could hear it. and without a word, you stood up, hoping to locate the sound, while trying to quickly swallow the food in your mouth.

" is something wrong? " jean asked, ready to stand if need be. and yet lisa softly whispered, " maybe she's just so moved by the area ... she's fine, i'm sure of it. " it's not like you were a hundred percent cleared. you could still be a threat, and jean didn't want you rushing off and something happening. she still did not trust you, but she tried to be respectful about it. you slowly moved from the table, following the sound to the best of your ability. the music slowly grew louder, and louder, and your strides grew larger too. a very small crowd thickened, and you pushed yourself through the few people.

so close . . .

until you collided with another, and the impact would have made you fall. however, they were quick enough to place a hand to the small of your back to catch you, and their hand took in your own. it all happened so fast, that you didn't know who it was. but there was cheering, and you looked up at the person who saved you from meeting with the stone ground.

" what's the rush, little one? " kaeya asked, " were you that eager to remeet that you just so happen to fall into my arms? " he teased you, " is it a dance you want? "

you then realized the cheering was encouraging the two of you into a dance. " n-no, that's not- " you managed to croak out as you shook your head, " oh don't reject me now, " he chuckled, " not while there are people waiting for us to perform. just have this dance with me. "

you looked around and the crowd thickened, as they continued to clap to the live music. you were so hesitant, and it seems like kaeya noticed this. he pulled you closer, " just follow my lead, snowflake. " and you were whipped away. your body against his -- the coolness of his body's temperature clashing with yours. he quite literally swept you off your feet quite a few times.

but if you were being honest, you were having fun. you were able to match his pace; a burst of confidence. it appears that kaeya was able to notice this new confidence, and he allowed you to lead. each movement was gentle, each dip swayed, and each twirl reminded you of the beautiful wind that blew through your hair. and in the midst of the twirls, you locked eyes with the bard ...

a young male with green and white attire, a bright smile, and the smell of the wind. the soft forest scent, mixed with booze, and yet he wasn't drunk. he wore two braids in his hair that complimented his appearance nicely, and he smiled at you while he played the lyre. the crowd synced in with their songs, and cheered and clapped until it came to an end where you were applauded. with a soft rise of your chest, you turned to look at the bard, " e-excuse me! i just want ... to say that your playing is- "

" beautiful isn't it? " the unnamed bard finished with a cheeky smile and a laugh, " why thank you, you kind dancer! thank you for tuning in! " he grinned proudly, " the performance was splendid! however, i will have to trouble you for some mora, of course! these hands don't just entertain for free! " mora? like ... payment?

" very humorous, venti the bard, " kaeya butted in, obviously experienced with his ways. you stood beside him, watching as venti grinned at the taller knight. " maybe i'll give you additional since your playing gave me the chance to dance with her. " he dug in his pocket, pulling out a small pouch, " or, better yet, why don't you join me for a few drinks? i'll treat you, of course ... " kaeya offered, before looking over at you, " care to join us? "

well , you didn't drink, but you didn't mind spending more time with this charming knight. but maybe you'll settle for something non-alcoholic.

· •. •. ✶ * . •

the outing with kaeya and venti was a bit chaotic. kaeya was fine, or so you thought, but venti ... he was a loud drunk. but kaeya kept his promise and paid for the drinks; even if he had to pay for a bottle or two for the bard. you didn't know kaeya all that well yet, but it seems like he was searching for something. it was almost like he wanted some kind of information out of him. " oh! sir kaeya! " amber called out after walking through the doors, " can i talk to you for a second? it's a message from master jean! " as venti mumbled to himself (rather loudly) kaeya looked at you, and you gave a nod.

" you can go, " you whispered, " i'll stay here. " the cool guy stood before being led outside of the tavern to talk one on one with amber. there was a bit of shuffling beside you and venti now took the spot of kaeya.

" WHO SENT YOU? "

he leaned closer to you, completely red in the face. his words, though it was only a few, slurred over one another. he furrowed his brows at you, a mix of distrust lingering all over his face,

" WHY ... ARE YOU HERE? "

you stared at the bard; his teal eyes seemed to glow slightly. you were confused, and he took a slight lean back, " i-i'm ... sorry? " you didn't understand. who sent you? why were you here? you had no idea what he was talking about ... maybe he was fooling around? he was drunk after all but ... you didn't feel safe right now. venti glared at you, finger tapping at the bottle in his very hand,

" YOU SHOULD BE DEAD. I GOT RID OF YOU ... A LONG TIME AGO. SO WHY ARE YOU HERE? "

he seemed annoyed, and he grimaced faintly. he used his other hand to rub at his head as if he were upset or stressed about something. " did i fail ... ? or were you simply reincarnated ... " he groaned, before pushing the bottle away slightly and resting his head on the table. " i ... do not understand. do you ... know me? " you pushed further, hoping to get anything out of this bard.

there was a faint silence before he suddenly laughed right as kaeya entered. " we have to go. " he announced, and you shook your head, " no i ... i need to - " " no worries! t ... thank you for the *burp* booze my dear soldier! y'know ... *brup* next time, i'll play for you free of charge! just bring me a fine apple when the time comes, yeah? "

" then it isn't exactly free of charge then. " kaeya chuckled, as venti joined in on the laugh, " that's the way the world works! " you wanted to stay but you also didn't want kaeya to get in trouble because of you. it was a setback, but you pushed yourself onto your feet wearily. " amber's outside. why don't you wait with her while i finish up here? " he whispered in your ear, before gesturing to the door.

venti wasn't the same as he was moments ago. all of his seriousness faded within an instant, and he was toying with the bottle of booze without another care in the world. so you nodded, before meeting with amber outside.

" YOU SHOULD WATCH HER... YOU BEST BE CAREFUL WITH WHO YOU LET IN. "

venti hummed tiredly, " don't wanna trust someone you know nothing of, right? " he gave a drunken smile, as kaeya gave an understanding nod, " it's funny you say that, " he gave a final wave, " until we meet again, bard. "

he did have a point. why were you here?

[ when stars align. || kaeya x fem!reader x albedo ] [ 2698 words ] part one: [here] part two: [here]

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polutrope · 6 months

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Mightiest of the Children

G, Fëanor & Manwë. Pulled from the archive for @manweweek.

The stars fall, pummeling the foundations of Taniquetil like blazing hailstones. The mountain trembles. Varda, my partner through all the long ages of Earth, takes the stars back into herself. She is light, and song, and she is young again. The fires sear her bodily raiment; it collects like silver ash about the feet of our throne.

Light of Sun and Moon and stars drifts through the seas of heaven like so much dust.

Arda breaks. My fallen brother is defeated forever. But I can find no hope in the End. Somewhere amid this confusion, the Light that will illumine Arda Healed remains locked in three Jewels. Ilúvatar has placed the fate of the World in the hands of his mightiest Child, and Fëanor does not come.

‘Where is he, Father?’ I ask. ‘The Spirit of Fire, whose marring lies at my feet? Yea, Father, do you deny it? ‘Tis I who is King of Arda, ‘twas I who failed your greatest creation.’

The One does not answer. All the sorrow contained in the Oceans of the World crests and looms above me. I, the Elder King, am afraid.

But ere the last light fades forever, Fëanor comes. In the shape of a white flame, every hue of light contained within him, he comes before my throne. I am laid bare before the naked power of his spirit, until I am naught but wind, and his heat sucks in all the airs that are my lifebreath. His fire feeds upon me, growing, growing so great that he might draw the last of me into himself. I surrender. There is utter stillness, a balancing, in the joining of my soul with his.

He releases me. I am clothed again as a King of the Valar, and he in the form he once possessed in the Noontide of the World. Nay – more beautiful, for his expression is at peace. He wears a smile.

‘So be it,’ he says, his voice like music. ‘By this reconciliation may Arda be Healed.’

He turns from me, and as he descends the mountain the land stills beneath his feet. The looming Ocean recedes and settles back into the deep basins and veins of the remade world.

From the mound of Ezellohar a great light spills out over the earth, and I know that the Jewels have been broken at last.

But by the mark he has left upon me, I know that alone among the countless reborn spirits rejoicing in the new world, Fëanor grieves.

#feanor #manwe #my fic #manweweek

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meadowlarkx · 1 year

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elvenkings

Fic for @sindarweek day 2: Locations | AO3

Afterwards, they went back. No tale contains this part: no one set it down. Few set out: Oropher, his tall, gangly son, and a handful of others. A small cluster of green shoots. Spring was returning to the forest, and it smelled sweet, like unfurling leaves and old rot melting. They were very careful. They moved and slept in the trees, wishing their foliage fuller and missing Melian’s temperate cradle. But at the rushing Esgalduin, before Menegroth’s bashed-in mouth, there were no boughs to make the going safer.

“Finrod’s brother,” one said, weeping, “wished his mortal’s beauty to live on unmarred in his memory.”

Oropher looked searchingly at his son. Should we not have come back? the look asked. Should I not have brought you back?

Thranduil shook his head. He was serious-faced, with an edge of temper and a merry wit that darted free at times like a bird startled from a branch. No humor glinted in his gaze now. He was named for the spring, but perhaps it had been this kind of spring. “We had to,” he said simply. “Pass me a lantern:” and he crossed the stone bridge and went inside.

Ringing silence, orchestral silence, the tremor of the air from breath and speech shimmering up the vaulted halls roofed by gleaming roots, through the wide proud galleries with their pillars fashioned like beech-trees. No robbers or kinslayers had made lair of this place. Still they trod softly, reverently, until in the garden with its fountain gone quiet—not the throne room—Medlithor sang out clarion a love-song of Daeron’s, and briefly illuminated the dark like lightning.

Three of Nimloth’s gowns for the little princess. Torn tapestries—gleaming silver. A great book of heraldry, and another of sketches, plans for uncarved statuary. Daeron’s prized notes nowhere to be found. A chest of Oropher’s things, still fastened shut, guiltily perfect. A zither broken and unsinging. The dark space where the bodies had been heaped and burnt atop the frozen ground by their enemies. White bones of a few they had missed. The tree-roots embracing them, the new moss blanketing them. Circles ever widening outward, months late seeking children who would never be found.

Somber return, days in the making. Thranduil sat on a pier and watched the silt swirl and mingle with the clear salt of the ocean. Something tugged in his young breast: he could not name it. It was not sea-longing.

“It was very fine. The floor was fashioned like a vast ocean, sweeping out—oh!—with bright fishes, and strange sea-weeds like purple flowers, and amongst them, stars.” Evranin’s hands fluttered like birds, even when she was not at her stitching. “You used to hop from one spotted ray to the next.”

Elwing nodded dubiously.

“You remember it, don’t you, my girl? I know you do.”

“I think so,” Elwing said.

“Your great-grandfather planned it. He was the first to make the journey across the Sea, and he returned with a beautiful light in his eyes: they glowed in the endless dusk under the starlight.”

Elwing flinched.

“Not thus, sweet,” Evranin said, “like auntie Idril’s. ‘Twas a shine like the dawn, though of course, we knew no dawn then.”

Elwing looked confused, then squinted her eyes like two clenched fists, as though trying to work out a time before sunlight. Evranin thought this very Bëorian of her. At last, satisfied, she gave a little nod of approval.

“He loved the Sea: your great-grandfather. He and his brother meant to cross and live by the shore on the other side—where the fish leapt in the colorful shallows, and the stars’ reflection could yet be seen.”

“But he did not,” Elwing interrupted, frowning. She knew this part, and meant not to be appeased.

“He loved your great-grandmother more, and the woods’ green smell underfoot in the summer. But his brother—your great-great-uncle—did cross over, and he built a fair city for our people by the water. When you look west, my dear, think of all your family waiting to meet you. We live on the shore now, just as they do.”

“I don’t remember the floor of that gallery,” Elwing said quietly. “But I remember the music of the fountains through the room, and Naneth dancing with Ada. There were nightingales in his hair.”

If you looked carefully, as Bilbo was wont to do, you could see the places where the tapestry in Elrond’s library had been repaired. It nearly covered one complete wall of the hexagonal room, confidently draping languid and liquid across space where more books and scrolls could have been squirreled away. Its colors seemed to shift, unearthly, and the weave was finer than any Bilbo had seen—which made the repairs, neat as they were, quite obvious. The image was one of a shadow-crowded forest of brambles and feathery boughs, and in the foreground dark, shimmering water. Shapes were awakening beneath the stars in the twilight by the water’s edge, stretching up glistening bodies and dancing and drawing one another in to embrace. At one corner the winding border had been singed and the damage had not been mended. Still, it was very beautiful. Nearby, upon a varnished wooden stand, a book sat partly open, with thin, cracked pages of birch-paper. It was full of sigils, but Bilbo, despite making a study of Elf-lore, recognized none of them.

“Nor do I know most of them,” Elrond said, when asked. “It is far older than I, and a gift from Oropher from long ago, ere he left eastwards. See, though. Here is Beleg’s seal, and Mablung’s: the marchwardens from Túrin’s unhappy tale.” Bilbo exclaimed over these a while, and then asked: “What about the tapestry?”

“Melian the Maia wove it in the Elder Days.” He did not need to add: I thought it should be admired.

They had argued bitterly on the day the gift was made. It was vanishingly rare to see Elrond angry, but Oropher had managed it.

“Name me not king. I have chosen my king, and I am his herald. Leave it, I have begged of you. I won't ask again."

“And in what world am I to be named lord, while Elwing’s son bears no title? While our prince—”

“You might stay!” Elrond said rather wildly.

“And you might come with us—to oak and elm, the deep forest, people of our own ways—”

“I have made my choice.”

Silence fell between them, a silence of set jaws and brittle gazes. It was from an excess of care that they crossed wills.

“You are so like Lúthien,” Oropher said at last. Pride was soft in his voice. “Nay, your mother in her lordship. You are so like all of them.”

Elrond did not know what he meant.

“Accept these at least. They are your own inheritance. How I wish we had been able to offer you more.” Oropher said nothing else, but Elrond heard in his inmost heart all he meant, and opening his own heart he offered him forgiveness for the harsh words freshly spoken and for the old aches, the beaded necklace of orphans upon orphans, the bruise-tender childhood, the sunken continent, the houseless shades of the dead that crowded like moths: all the wounds still bleeding, and in which Oropher was faultless.

When Amon Lanc grew too dangerous, Thranduil knew what had to be done. Harried and unmerry was the Wood-elves’ journey northwards through the forest’s tree-paths. They took from the hill only what they could carry. Those of Thranduil’s people whom he met on the way—for many lived simply in the trees throughout Greenwood with their companions and children, and had joined themselves to no great settlement—spoke with him in troubled voices, though on the nights his following gathered around their small talans wine flowed and songs were sung.

“We need to make fast a stronghold,” he said. “Underground: a place of stone.”

“Better to go through the trees quickly! to travel lightly!”

“And if there is nowhere left that the Shadow has not touched?”

These Elves shook their heads and he read their thinking: we have always dwelt in this forest. But Thranduil’s heart misgave him, insisting the direst hour was still to come, and that he ready all his scattered people a sanctuary in advance of that hour.

Kingship did not rest easily on this son of Oropher. He had not been born to it, and he had meant never to find it. He preferred swimming the forest’s rivers and downing the sweet nectar of more summery lands to difficult counsels and deference, however warmly they were offered him. Very often since his father’s death, the way did not seem clear.

It was clear in this moment. He felt Elu Thingol’s hand cool upon his shoulder, as surely as if the king sojourned with him in the dappled wood and spoke as he had at the height of his wisdom. He saw in his mind’s eye the bridge that would cross the running water, the enchanted door, the roots that would be sung into high ceilings, the beech-carved pillars, the golden lamplight.

__________

From The Silmarillion: "But the Elves also had part in that labour, and Elves and Dwarves together, each with their own skill, there wrought out the visions of Melian, images of the wonder and beauty of Valinor beyond the Sea. The pillars of Menegroth were hewn in the likeness of the beeches of Oromë, stock, bough, and leaf, and they were lit with lanterns of gold. The nightingales sang there as in the gardens of Lórien; and there were fountains of silver, and basins of marble, and floors of many-colored stones. Carven figures of beasts and birds there ran upon the walls, or climbed upon the pillars, or peered among the branches entwined with many flowers. And as the years passed Melian and her maidens filled the halls with woven hangings wherein could be read the deeds of the Valar, and many things that had befallen in Arda since its beginning, and shadows of things that were yet to be. That was the fairest dwelling of any king that has ever been east of the Sea."

#wanted to post this one in as tumblr friendly a format as possible since it's not long !#thank you so much for running this event!!! 💕💕#thranduil #elrond #elwing #oropher #evranin #silm #silmarillion fic #silmarillion #etc.#lotr #the hobbit #thingol #menegroth #sindarweek #sindarweek2 #my fic

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sebille · 27 days

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Hi, I was reading some of your posts on Zenos (it’s very early in the morning here sorry if it doesn’t make sense) but how do you think Zenos would react if we show him compassion and care ? True compassion and care? Those things he never received as a child? (I made myself cry while writing this because he is the monster Varis created but what If he was loved to begin with ..)

Hi lovely, thank you for the ask! This is a really difficult question to answer, because other than what we see at the very very very end of Endwalker between him and the warrior of light, we don't really see him around anyone he's built a positive relationship with at all in the game. So i'm just going to ramble on about what we see IN the game and build my conclusions on that: The wol is able to show him an act of compassion in Stormblood, where they're able to tell him that they accept him. However, as we all know he will brush it off and move along - because he doesn't trust the wol to mean what they're saying.

"You and I are one and the same. Together, we could while away the quiet hours, as friend and confidant...if you will accept me?" "- I accept you." "Heh heh...are we to embrace and let bygones be bygones? Do our deeds weigh so little that you would cast all aside? Come. 'Twas plain for the first how this would end." Slowly but surely throughout the expansions he creates this image of who the wol is in his own head - not really understanding what he himself ACTUALLY wants, while also believing that the wol is his "mirror", that they're one and the same. We see the confusion and desperation in his actions in early Endwalker, when the wol doesn't act the way he believes that they would. And how lost he is after the wol gets genuinely upset with him on the moon. In a sense I'd say that Alisaie yelling at him in Endwalker is an act of care and compassion - and we see how he reacts to that: He takes her words to heart and tries to do and be better. And at the end of Endwalker he trusts the wol completely ( we all know about the legendary line " I take it this is your prey. But why does it still live? Surely it is no match for you?" ) and we all know that he gets really vulnerable at the very end and opens up to the wol in a way he really hasn't before. SO with all that being said... I think it's really difficult to say who he would have been had he been shown compassion and care from the start of his life - because other than what we see from him at the very end of Endwalker, he's in a very negative headspace throughout the whole game. And if we go by what we see at the very end, once he trusts that a person is his friend he's loyal, willing to risk it all for his friend, vulnerable, and perceptive. Had Zenos been allowed to live at the end of EW and therefore would have been able to build an actual relationship with the wol (platonic or otherwise) I feel like he'd be very ride or die for them, lol. Also I don't believe that Zenos is a monster. I know that he's called that at least twice in the game, by Varis and Krile - but I don't trust Varis opinions on Zenos AT ALL. And Krile says that he's got "the eyes of a monster." I believe, and I feel like that's more...him looking dead inside? And we know that AT THAT POINT in stormblood he basically is. ( I think his voice actor said that he's basically at his limits at the start of Stormblood. ) tldr I think calling him a monster is unfair - my man is just depressed. He's done some awful and unforgivable things, however. I feel like I did not answer your question but rather just went on a long ramble-session about Zenos - but I'm sure that my Zenos mutuals/followers could answer this question better than me, or build on what I've already said.

#stormblood spoilers #endwalker spoilers #agnes ffxiv ramblings #zenosposting

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sitp-recs · 1 year

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Happy Friday, friends! I’ve never done monthly wrap ups before but since Wireless pulled me back from a brief hiatus, I thought it would be cool to share some things I’ve been reading, that could use more love. 10 fics both old and new, Drarry and rare pairs, Wireless treats; pick your poison and have fun! 🙌

Drarry

Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (E, 7k) - brilliant concept perfectly executed, I’m so here for curse-breaking colleagues who fuck at the job to pass time and then forget about it every time 🤌🏼 genius and intriguing and captivating as per crow’s usual

There's something just beneath the surface, just at the periphery of Harry's mind. They've been here before — they've done this before. If only he could remember it.

And Embers at Your Lips by @nametheshadows (T, 15k) - sequel to one of my all-time favorite 8th year fics with insomniac roommates just as soft and healing as LLAYF. Gorgeous prose and all the kissing. Highly rec this series for A+ comfort food!

The sequel to Like Lightning at Your Fingertips: the kissing montage. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

Rich Friend, Anon (E, 18k) - one of my faves from Wireless, pop star!Draco never gets old and both the pacing and the romance are perfectly developed! I live for Harry’s horny yearning and for their road trip together, kudos to casual Harry/Neville as a side ship!

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

Waking Up Slow, Anon (E, 22k) - this ode to advent Drarry fics took my breath away with a charming Draco, fun dynamics, an enchanting Christmas shop and one of the sexiest smut scenes I’ve read this year, 10/10 recommend for hot & sweet magical vibes and lots of references as an homage to the classics!

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

We Are Legend by Vaysh (E, 38k) - happy to report to @romaine2424 that I have finally read this epic apocalypse AU and am shooketh with its originality and serious tone. One of the most creative takes I’ve seen on animagus Draco, a poignant and devastating war story.

Eighty years into the future, Voldemort won. Harry Potter is a renegade wizard, Portkeying Muggles out of London to Hogwarts, last sanctuary in a Britain ruled by the Dark Lord. On a mission he encounters a powerful phoenix Animagus fighting on the Death Eaters' side. He recognises Draco Malfoy whom he thought long dead. But the differences between them are perhaps even greater than before. Cw: MCD

LA, Who Am I To Love You?, Anon (E, 42k) - I cannot believe this beauty was written for my lil Wireless prompt ♥️ perfect LA vibes, gorgeous aesthetics, horny ust and a fascinating take on both down and out bi Harry and out and proud bi Draco, we love to see it! Couldn’t have asked for a better story to fill my prompt, ty anon!

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

Rare Pairs

A Different Tune by November Snowflake (M, 8k) - very nice Dron get together, short & sweet with an undercurrent melancholy that I love, just what I needed before bed

Working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office has led Ron to many strange encounters--but none more unexpected than this one. Cw: Harry’s dead

The Years Between by brummell (M, 14k) - another rare pair fave, this Rarry fic told from Ron’s smitten and jealous pov as he helps Harry recover from a coma is so deliciously raw and angsty. Gorgeous slow burn, the feels!

For both Harry and Ron, a wake-up call is just the beginning.

Things Remembered by avioleta (E, 17k) - best Snarry fic I’ve read this year, I’m low key obsessed with this hitmen + amnesia concept and how the romance develops so organically while they’re on the run. Intriguing plot, sexy ust and super scorching smut that made me salivate jfc 🔥

Harry wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar hotel room, and with absolutely no idea who he is. The man he’s in bed with has no memories either. But they think, maybe, they’re assassins, because they seem to be very good at killing people.

A Dress with Pockets by PacificRimbaud (E, 25k) - a Panville classic recced by anon (ty!!), what a sexy and vibrant read! I LOVED Neville and their dynamics are brilliant and so funny, I just couldn’t get enough of these characters. 100% sold on this ship pls and thank

Pansy Parkinson needed a drink. And a shag. She didn't care in which order. Enter: Neville fucking Longbottom and his rolled up sleeves.

#July wrap up #hp recs

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