#ill do her family as well if this gets up to 100

[rawtoastandpeanutbutter]

i told you guys i would show you raya

so here she is yay

ill do more if this gets up to 50 likes

[daemour]

Pairing: crown prince! Yeosang x f! maid! Reader

Genre: fluff, very light angst, royal au, E for Everyone

Warnings: None

Summary: When the Gods divined you to be the Crown Prince's future wife, you're not quite sure what to expect in your new life. But Crown Prince Yeosang tries to make the transition smooth.

Word count: 3180

-

Happy birthday @mingsolo <3 I really hope you enjoy this hehe it gave me a lot of grief and you should count your lucky stars I was running behind on the deadline because I absolutely would have yapped this into a 10k fic lol

happy happy birthday from applebees to you we wish you happy birthday so we can party too

and yes i know this is early but its almost 2 am for me and i want to go to bed and ik ill forgot about it if i put it in schedule

“Are you ready for the ceremony, your highness?” You adjust the collar of the high prince, smiling at him in the mirror. Although the royal family isn’t rude to their servants, you try not to make it a habit to speak with them unless spoken to. It’s just a safety precaution you stick to. But the prince sitting in front of you looks so terrified and you can’t help but feel sorry for him.

Every 100 years, the high priests will choose a commoner to marry into the royal family. Something about keeping the bloodline clean and relating to their subjects: you don’t quite remember. But this year, the high prince Yeosang was chosen for this honour. Before him, it was his great-grandmother, and now it’s him.

The prince jumps a little at the unexpected question, messing up the fabric of his cape and your hands automatically shift down to smooth it out again. “Uh…” his deep voice shakes just the slightest bit and he clears his throat. “It’s a great honour to be chosen for this ceremony and I’m sure the gods will choose the right spouse for me.”

His demeanour is still stiff but his hands have stopped shaking so you count that as a win. A knock sounds at the door and startles you and you take a few steps back as his personal guard enters the room. Choi Jongho is formidable, but kind. He always exchanges a smile and a few kind words with you, and today is no exception.

“Hello, Miss YN,” he greets you and you nod back, a small smile on your face. “Sorry to interrupt, but I must bring his highness to the hall. And you probably should go find your friends to watch the ceremony with.” You nod again and Yeosang stands.

“Thank you,” he says to you and you offer him another smile, unsure of how to take his gratitude before slipping out of the room, making your way through twisting halls and finally joining your friends at the very back of the room.

“How was he doing?” One of your fellow handmaidens, Haewon, leans over to whisper in your ear. “I know I would be nervous if I were him.”

You shrug, adjusting the shoulder of your hanbok. It’s a little too thick for the hot summer weather, but on such occasions, you can’t wear your usual dark clothing. “He seemed nervous for sure, but not out of it, which is good. Hopefully his future spouse will treat him well.”

Haewon hums, her attention turning back to the front of the room where the king is now starting his speech. You try to pay attention but your eyes slip shut and you lean against the pillar behind you. In the days leading up to the ceremony you were working hard so you feel like you’re allowed to get at least a little rest.

Haewon elbows you awake as the priests are coming up to the front. “Come on, at least pay attention to this part,” she pleads and you nod sleepily, forcing your tiredness to the back of your mind and focusing on the platform a few metres in front of you.

You can barely see anything over the heads of the audience, and can only catch a slight glimpse of Yeosang’s immaculate dark hair. The priests add nothing to the king’s speech, instead starting immediately chanting something in Old Korean as they pour a mixture of wine and purified water into a large basin.

A bright pure light emanates from the basin as the priests stick their hands in and join in humming a low, deep note that reverberates throughout the hall. The hall stays quiet as the highest priest dips his face into the bowl. The silence is almost unbearable and the whole room holds their breath when the priest comes back up, his hair dripping onto the marble floor.

He takes a deep breath and with one sentence, your whole world is shaken.

“The bride of Kang Yeosang will be the servant YN.”

Murmurs fill the hall and heads snap towards you. Your eyes widen as you look at Haewon then back at the priests, then back at Haewon. “Me?” you whisper to your friend but she has no response for you, just as shocked as you are. “How could it be me?”

A different silence settles over the room. Not one of anticipation and excitement, but one of silent judgement. You can feel hundreds of eyes on you, but you lock eyes with the most important man in the room—the high prince. His face is almost unreadable…almost. But there's a hint of unsurety, mirroring your own, and at least you can take comfort in knowing that he shares the same feelings as you do.

-

You can’t help but lie on your bed for just a few seconds more, staring up at the plain white ceiling you’ve slept under for years. You’ve packed all your possessions and they’re about to be transferred to your new quarters, ones you will share with Yeosang. But you have a certain fondness for this room and all the memories you have here.

A knock sounds on the door and you sigh to yourself before getting off your best and opening to door. “Hello, Miss YN,” Jongho stands before you with Haewon right behind him. “We’re here to help you bring your things to the Prince’s room. We figured it’d be best if it was someone you knew well so Haewon is here, and I’m just around to do the heavy lifting.”

His light tone eases your worry a little and you crack a smile back. “Come on in. It’s looking pretty sorry right now, but everything is in those bags. The one of the left is fragile so please be careful. The right is clothes so it’s a little heavier.”

“It’s so few belongings,” Jongho marvels. “I could take both bags in one trip.”

Both you and Haewon stare at him. “We can’t exactly afford too much with our salaries, especially if we have family at home.” While the two of you are paid a fair enough wage for a single lady, Haewon has her siblings at home she takes care of and you donate your leftover funds to the orphanage you were raised in. There wasn’t much you wanted to buy in all fairness. Pretty clothes and jewellery weren’t something you thought to buy, even if you did stop and look at them through the store windows when you had the chance to.

“Oh– sorry,” Jongho apologises, his brows furrowing the slightest bit, but Haewon waves his concern away with a quick smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m mostly just pulling your leg. Come on, let’s get little lady YN to her new bedroom.”

Your face burns at Haewon’s teasing tone and you quickly duck away, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Don’t–” you protest half-heartedly. “I’m still going to be YN. I’ll still hang out with you. And wingman you for–”

Before you can finish your retaliation, Haewon leaps forward and covers your mouth with her hand, glancing at Jongho before glaring at you. “Be quiet,” she hisses in your ear. “I’ll kill you in your sleep, never mind being the future princess.”

You laugh, pushing her head away. “Okay, I get it. My mouth is closed. Now let’s get going so I won’t throw up from nerves.”

With another bump to your shoulder, Haewon picks up the other bag. Before any other movement is made, you quickly run to grab the pillow off your bed. Jongho looks at you like you lost a few brain cells. “I…It’s comforting okay?” you defend, and before they can say anything else, you quickly move out of your room, Haewon and Jongho following close behind while laughing.

To be honest, and it’s not like you were hiding it before, you’re terrified of what your new life will lead to. It’s such a big shift from one lifestyle to another. What are you supposed to do? How are you supposed to interact with Prince Yeosang now?

And before you can bat an eye, you’re in front of the ornate door leading to the Crown Prince’s quarters. With a little hesitation, you knock on the door. As if he was waiting for you, the crown prince throws open the door, making eye contact with you for far too long before he finally steps aside. “Ah, hello,” he greets you with his usual low voice. “Uh. I’m not sure what to say.”

You stare at him awkwardly. You’re used to seeing him as a servant should, not as a future husband. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not quite sure myself,” you agree, offering a small smile that Yeosang returns.

“Stop dilly-dallying and go in the room, the bag’s heavy,” Haewon hisses in your ear and you jump at the feeling of her breath on your skin.

“Ah, sorry,” you whisper back before turning back to Yeosang, who looks vaguely amused. “Would you mind if I came in?”

Yeosang blinks slowly at you, a smile growing on his face. “Yeah, considering you will be staying here from now on, you can come in. Make yourself at home, I cleared out part of my closet for you.”

He steps back, letting Jongho and Haewon in as well, and leads you to a tall, intricately carved, wardrobe. You try not to wince when he throws it open, overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. He had cleared out half of his clothes and you almost feel…ashamed at the amount of clothes you have in your meagre bag.

“Ah, I won’t need this much space, though,” you frown, measuring the inside with your eyes. “I don’t have that many clothes with me.”

Yeosang chuckles, not unkindly. “YN, you will be getting different clothes than the ones you normally wear. Our seamstress will be around to measure you tomorrow afternoon.”

Right. You shouldn’t wear your shabby handmaiden clothes now that you’ll be marrying a crown prince. You nod, head already starting to hurt at the thought of all the new rules you’ll have to learn. “Okay.” You look around carefully. “Where will I be staying?”

There’s a long silence until Yeosang finally breaks it with a curious head tilt. “What do you mean? This is going to be your room now.”

“Ah, you misunderstand me. Where will I be sleeping?”

Another pause. “In…the bed? I’m not sure what you mean by a different bed?”

You blink. Jongho and Haewon exchange looks behind you. “Maybe we should let you two talk this out without us,” Haewon whispers, placing your bags on a nearby chair, Jongho quickly following suit before the two of them slip out of the room quietly.

“Are we not having different beds to sleep in? We’re not married yet.”

Understanding dawns in Yeosang’s eyes. “Oh. It’s tradition that divinely blessed couples share a bed from the moment the Gods select them. But we don’t have to. I don’t mind taking the couch for now.”

You shake your head. “No, no, you can stay in your bed. I’ll be more used to the couch, anyway. I don’t want to take your bed away from you.”

Yeosang frowns. “No, no, it’s not right. I couldn’t make you sleep on the uncomfortable couch on your first night here anyway. Please, let me do this.”

You carefully raise your gaze to meet his, filled with sincerity. You can tell he’s not saying it just to be nice, but he truly wants your first night to be comfortable. “I…I appreciate the kindness, your highness.”

“No, no, none of that. I’m no longer ‘your highness’, just call me Yeosang. We’re to be wed, it’s best to get in the habit now.”

A shiver runs through your spine at the thought of no longer using his title. It’ll take some time getting used to it, but his words are true. “Alright, you– Yeosang.” A strange silence settles over the two of you. It’s awkward but not unwelcome, almost comforting, even.

Before either of you can say another word, a gentle knock sounds on the door. “Yeosang, YN. It’s Queen Yuhwa. May I come in?”

“Ah, yes, mother.” Yeosang moves towards the door, opening it to reveal the queen regent in all her glory. Even dressed in a simple robe, her face still carries a grace to it you can only hope to emulate someday. “What brings you here?”

She smiles at the two of you. “It’s just lovely to see the two of you together. The priests have divined well—you’re very beautiful, YN. You’ll be a good match for Yeosang.”

You can’t keep the heat from flooding to your face at her compliment, and Queen Yuhwa chuckles, stepping forward and reaching forward to hold your face in her gentle hand. “Our seamstress will have to make sure to bring out the best features of your face.” She inspects you for a moment longer before releasing you from her hold and sighing. “That’s not what I came here for, however. After a long meeting, the priests and I have chosen the date for your wedding. It will take place in six months. We’ve decided to have separate dinners so the two of you can get to know each other in a more intimate setting.”

Her words make you flinch, but Yeosang remains unfazed except for a slight twitch of his fingers. “Thank you mother,” he says, his eyes warm when he looks at her. “I hope you and father have a lovely dinner.”

Yuhwa hums, reaching up to pat his cheek. “I’m sure we will, dear. I’ll see you two tomorrow for breakfast.”

And just as quickly as she entered the room, she left smoothly. Yeosang closes the door behind her, laughing softly under his breath before turning to you, a soft smile on his face. “Sorry about her, she can be a bit odd sometimes. What would you like for dinner?”

You’re still somewhat in awe at seeing Queen Yuhwa so close—she only allows a select few handmaidens to attend to her. “Uh– whatever is fine. I’m not picky.” You shake your head, bringing your mind back to the present. “I hope you don’t mind if I unpack my belongings now?”

Yeosang waves you ahead. “Go on. I’ll just head out to let the servants know. Make yourself comfortable. The bath is also open if you’d like.”

You nod, turning back to your bags as Yeosang slips out of his quarters. It doesn’t take long for you to organise all your belongings, and you place your pillow on the silken sheets of his bed, slightly embarrassed at the obvious difference in quality. Your life wasn’t hard, nor was your servant lifestyle cheap, but you weren’t given silken sheets.

After a pause, you can’t help but to reach out and let your hands brush against the sheets, marvelling at how soft and smooth they lay. You look around carefully, and when Yeosang shows no signs of coming back in the next five seconds, you quickly let yourself drop into the sheets, closing your eyes and breathing in the smell of lavender blossoms.

You feel yourself relaxing far too much and you quickly stand, ruffling through your side of the closet to find your nicest dress, bringing it to the bathroom so you can clean yourself of any dust you may have lingering before looking a little more presentable for Yeosang.

As you slip into your dress, you can hear Yeosang return, the telltale sound of plates being set. “Are you decent?” you can hear him call out, and you nod before remembering he can’t see you.

“Ah– yes I am, your highness. Ah, Yeosang,” you correct yourself, and you can hear chuckles from behind the door before it opens to reveal Yeosang clutching something in his hand.

He gingerly sets it on the counter to reveal a small bottle of perfume. “I had this made when I was first told I was chosen to have a divined partner. It’s customary for the royal side to gift their future spouse with their first expensive perfume.”

His voice grows smaller with each word, but you don’t even know if you can speak without crying. It’s such a small gesture, one that’s premeditated, but it still makes your heart flutter. “Thank you, Yeosang.” You feel like there’s no way you could ever thank him properly to show your gratitude, but he just smiles even brighter.

“Come, let’s eat.”

-

After a quiet but calm dinner, you’re laying in the softest bed you’ve ever used in your life. Yeosang’s soft breaths can be heard across the room but you’re still wide awake. The anxiety of your life flipping completely has finally hit you and you’re far too aware of yourself right now.

You’re starting to regret not taking Yeosang’s offer of sharing a bed—having another’s presence near you would be immensely comforting. When you had first moved to the palace for your new life, Haewon had shared a room with you until you were comfortable enough to start sleeping on your own. You roll over in the sheets once more, shoving your face in your pillow and trying to pretend you’re back in your own room. It only serves to make your nerves worse and you can feel tears starting to sting at your eyes.

“Are you okay?” A low voice startles you and you whirl around to see a Yeosang-shaped shadow standing by your side, hand outreached. “I heard you tossing and turning and– are you crying?”

You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a whimper and you quickly bring your hands up to cover your face. There’s the slightest hesitation before Yeosang’s hand comes down to rest on your head and he starts slowly stroking your hair. He’s unsure of himself, but it’s comforting nonetheless and your cries quieten until there’s barely a hiccup.

“...I’m sorry,” you sigh after your chest has stopped heaving. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

Yeosang hums, his hand stilling on your hair. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “I understand. It’s a scary change. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

You hesitate before you say it, and Yeosang almost turns away to go back to the couch when you reach out and grab hold of his sleep-shirt’s sleeve. “Will you stay here with me? It helps if someone is near me.”

This time, Yeosang does not wait a second before making his way to the other side of the bed, crawling in and sliding closer to lay almost close enough for his shoulder to press against yours. You can feel his body heat radiating off of him and it’s enough to make your body relax already.

Carefully, slowly, you reach out your hand until it touches his, and he quickly envelops your palm with his own, bringing it up to his face to press a kiss to it. “Good night, YN.”

“Good night, Yeosang.”

[barbatusart]

bit of thinking outloud but for my current tactician run im doing a special wyll origins playthrough im calling the Evil Wyll Run & it’s given me a lot of food for thought about his character (or at least the freedom of psychological movement + exploration afforded to an origin run!)

wyll spoilers abound we’re entering the wyllenium here

wyll always felt a bit underwritten to me - i know that’s partially because there was that big kerfuffle in the 11th hour with changing his whole story and personality on top of having to recast his VA, and frankly hats off to both original VA lanre malaolu & new VA theo solomon for their hard work - both brought tremendous performances, & i sincerely hope mr malaolu was paid well for his work & time even if his voice wasn’t used in the final cut (i would also say warlock as a class itself felt a bit underdeveloped but im 100% OK with chalking that up to me the player not understanding how to play warlock effectively yet lol im more of a fighter barbarian Hit Stuff guy)

but honestly this feeling of being “underwritten” combined with a character with a long history of heroism in his pocket made wyll really interesting to me even in my tav playthrough. for all his accomplishments he still feels like a blank everyman, or like he’s someone who fully believes he’s the main character who doesn’t “need” to do any extra work on himself - and honestly he feels Very much like he could be The Main Character. once his backstory of the son of the duke was revealed too i immediately got the sense of like, rich boy trying to prove his worth beyond his wealth and status by striking out & becoming that hero, or that Prince Charming. basically that perfect happily ever after somebody. and im of the opinion that you don’t get mixed up with a cambion in the first place unless you’re either the kind of naïve “everything will just work out” immature that tends to comes with his status as the son of a noble, or you’re hungering for power. depending on playstyle he’s very easily both of these things

on the naïve front (ie a good wyll playthrough) if anything he feels very believably immature, & from that perspective the events of the game feel as though they’re the prequel to the actual start of wyll's story where he finally finds himself & learns what kind of man he really is. we just dont get to see it alas, but i really enjoyed the thought exercise of somebody still grappling with overcoming his own immaturity. he feels like someone who can still grow and that his tale is just beginning

Evil Wyll (meaning any time mizora shows up he drops everything to enact her instruction & hasnt once tried to find a loophole out of his contract) which ive come to be far more fascinated by is someone clearly vying for power, which is interesting because his noble status would’ve given him all the power he wants had he Played Nice. to me it speaks of someone who wants to be able to take what he wants from life without it being handed to him, which contrasts in a really fascinating way with entering into a warlock pact at all. maybe he thought it was better that it be a decision he made as opposed to nobility given to him by his family ties, maybe there’s still that pollyanna sentiment of “it’ll just work out & ill live happily ever after.” again maybe both. maybe in a sense the fiend, as he calls himself, is a good excuse to shuck off any poor decision he makes or any genuinely heinous thing he does under mizora’s instruction - an identity he uses as power fantasy (and very much in tandem/interchangeable with the blade of frontiers power fantasy) until it means taking ownership for any of his misdeeds, and then a scapegoat.

may be a bit incoherent but im only now hitting act 3 in my origin run & im Really enjoying this difficult characterization ive cooked up for myself lol

[readychilledwine]

Hey. It's me again. I was wondering if you could write something. Where reader is taking care of her younger siblings because her father who was a single dad had died due to some illness which she has now and it is going to kill her. The ic notices last minute. Az is just pissed because she is his wife and she made up a lie to break his heart. You can decided if there is a cure they found or not. Thanku. Hope you are doing well

I'm convinced you want me to break Azriel's (and my) heart, and I almost did it this time 👀👀👀👀

Losing Forever

Warnings - illness, mentions of death, heartbreak, losing a family member, angst with a happier ending than originally planned, mentions of medical procedures and blood. Ps- there's a little hint of Azris in there if you squint. 👀

A/n - I changed the ending of this two or three times, and I'm not 100% happy, but that's my inner perfectionist. I seriously considered something less happy, but I think I mentally care about Azriel having a happy ending way too much.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Madja stared at you in silence. "Where and how?" The healer finally said before pulling any books she could. "Y/n, where and how?"

She had confirmed your fear as you began to pick at the loose skin on your nails. "My father had written for me," you went into the story, the old healer looking at you every so often as she flipped through page after page.

The conclusion was the same. Illryian Fever. You had heard of it wiping whole camps clean. Incurable, deadly, and incredibly painful for the affected. "You cannot go home. You could pass this to Nyx, Rhys, Azriel, or Cassian if they get too close to you." You nodded. "I will keep looking, y/n, but I have to go tell the High Lord which camp it was spreading through and that you have it."

Your trip home had taken much longer than you and Azriel had believed it would. He crossed his arms over his chest as Madja sat across from Rhys. The healer's face was pale. Her hands shaking with nerves. "Not that I am unhappy to see you, old friend, but why are you here?" Rhys leaned back a brow raised.

They heard her throat clear before a pregnant pause came. "Illyrian fever struck the Snowfall Camp. At least 50 are dead, countless are infected." Azriel's heart froze, and Cassian looked at him.

Rhys swallowed thickly. "Why do you have this information before I do?" He prayed to the Mother that the answer they all knew was coming wouldn't be said. "Surely, if it was spreading, I would know by now."

Madja rose a brow at Rhysand before taking his hand in hers. "You know the answer to that question, High Lord. She's in the Halls of Healing. I will not allow her to come out here. I will not allow visitors until a shield is in place." Rhys closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "I need anything you can get me regarding similar strands of illnesses if there will be a small chance of saving her."

Azriel felt Cassian grab him as his knees gave out. He felt his brother lowering him to the floor. He couldn't hear Rhys and Madja trying to talk to him. Every sound was muffled as if he was underwater, his heart rate was skyrocketing, his eyes wide with panic. The sound of his heartbeat increasing became a pounding drum. The noise was all he could focus on until your soft voice came into his mind.

Just a week, my love. Father said Luka, and he had simple colds. I will be right back to you. He rewatched the moment now, replaying the subtle things in your body language. The distant look in your eyes, the way you kissed him harder than you had for any other previous goodbye.

You knew, he realized, you knew, and you lied.

After countless hours spent hunched over books and chasing away sleep, Rhys had found a way for them to all see you. He kept a shield between you all, clutching Nyx tightly to him as he tried to reach you and cried for his favorite aunt.

It had been a week with no news regarding a cure, and your body was clearly tired of fighting. You had stopped eating 2 days ago, spending hours now in the throes of sleepless dreams and fevered nightmares. He had brought the heir to say goodbye, knowing from Madja's predictions, the progression, and years of experience you had until morning unless a miracle came.

Feyre was in the room with you. Holding your hand as she sobbed heavily into the bed. She could not pass the disease unless she made the choice to shift, and the wall Rhys was offering was too much for her. She needed to hold your hand to feel your soft palms one last time. But, it was too much for him as well. The sight of you like this was eating away at him. "Feyre, darling, please." She nodded, with one last kiss goodbye placed on your forehead.

Cassian and Nesta came next. Lady Death was held back by her husband, his hand resting on her swollen stomach. He took in your peaceful face, the countless medications being pumped into you to keep you comfortable. Ness unleashed a heartbreaking cry after they had spent almost an hour talking to you, hoping your mind wasn't lost enough that it could hear them still. Cassian took that as the cue, gently ushering his wife out of the room and into the large area Madja had set up for the Inner Circle to wait in.

It went on like that until they had all visited you. Elain and Lucien, then Mor, then Amren. Eris had even come, warming your room and sheets more as he watched you shiver. He walked back into the room, kissing Elain's temple to greet his sister in law before placing a supportive hand on Azriel's shoulder.

It was not every day someone felt the mating bond fading. Numbness had taken over the spymaster, along with anger, as he found letters confirming you knew what you were possibly walking into. But you had done it for your father. Your brother.

You had done it because they had no one else. Your mother was long gone, and your sisters married off to other camps. He did not rank high enough to garner attention from healers, your half brother was merely a child, and it would have been seen as survival of the fittest.

You had risked your life to ensure their last moments were comfortable, and now Azriel would pay that price.

"Azriel," Madja said softly, "if you want to say goodbye, you need to now." Eris and Lucien all but dragged the male to your room when he refused to move, shutting the door behind him and waiting in the hall.

Azriel felt ill as he took you in. This wasn't you. The sickly pale skin, the hallow cheeks, the lack of laughter and light. He felt a knot forming in his throat as he mindless stepped as close to you as he could before the shock of the barrier hit him.

He couldn't even hold your hand in your last moments. He sat in the chair slowly. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice finally broke the heaviness of the room. "Why did you lie to me?" He felt tears damping his lashes before falling. "You are my mate, y/n. Why did you lie to me about this?"

He watched you, knowing he wouldn't get a response. "I'm fucking angry. I have to spent your last moments angry with you because of a choice you made. We could have sent healers, love," his voice cracked. "We could have sent anyone but you."

Azriel was openly weeping now. "You promised me forever, y/n. You promised me years of love, joy, and unconditional happiness." He knew you had not broken the latter of the 3. You had given Azriel countless memories. Countless moments of laughter, of warmth and love.

You had melted that icy part deep down in his soul that was slowly resolidifying as he accepted the loss and anger he felt. "You promised me forever, and you shit on it. You shit on me, on my feelings, our marriage, our bond." The coldness grew with each word. "Did you even actually love me, or was that a lie too?"

He knew deep down it wasn't and watched as your finger, the one with your wedding ring, twitched. Rhys entered the room calmly behind him. "She can fucking hear you, Azriel. She's awake," he chastised. "Do not let your last moments with her be moments of anger and self sabot-" Rhys froze, his eyes flicking to the doorway. Hope filled Rhysand's features. "Hold on, y/n. Just please keep fighting, sis."

Madja and Helion, followed by Thesan, ran into the room. Rhys pulled Azriel back and away, making room for the three of them to work. "Mother, fuck," Helion said softly as he took your hand. "This better work fast, Thesan."

The Lord of Dawn rolled his eyes. "I didn't exactly have countless illyrians lining up to test it, Helion. Especially not ones in this advanced of a condition." Azriel flinched as Thesan shoved something into the vein of your hand. A soft whimper of pain fell from your throat. "I know, lovely. I'm sorry. This might be very uncomfortable." He set a bag of clear glowing liquid on the rack. "Who's blood?"

"Mine," Helion immediately offered. "I don't want to risk you taking it home to your winged legion from potential blood contact."

Thesan's jaw twitched. "I don't know if you can handle another one, Hel."

"Use me." A calm cool voice said from the doorway. "I owe him a life debt. Use me." Thesan nodded, motioning for the owner of the voice to move closer.

Eris stepped forward and through the shield, taking the seat Helion had moved closer to you. The heir held your hand gently as Thesan tapped into his vein. "You might be here awhile, Eris." The heir nodded. "I also cannot promise you doing this will save her, but it's her best shot until Tarquin, Tamlin, or Kallias can get here. It works best with a high lord's blood."

Your breathing had evened out, and Azriel watched in silence as Thesan hooked one more needle to your opposite arm from Eris and into a different container. He back away along with Helion, watching as Eris's blood slowly began to travel the tubes and into you, and your own began to leave.

"There's a similar illness in the Peregryn and the Seraphim," Thesan began slowly. "Drakon and I figured this out many years ago. The contagion cannot survive high fae blood for some reason. We had figured Rhysand's father would have done the same, but it appears not considering the situation."

Rhys scoffed slightly. "You two give my father far too much credit on anything. Velaris is the best thing he created, with the exception of myself of course." The joke broke the tension. "How long until she's not contagious."

Helion motioned towards the bag. "The second that started pumping into her, she stopped. That is water from the fountain Amarantha tried to destroy under the mountain. It's sacred and all healing. We were hoping with how poorly she was doing it would prevent anything from progressing further."

Azriel felt the shield drop and ran to your open side. Taking a cold hand in his, feeling the weight of your ring. "This was successful in the camps. I apologize it took us so long to get here. Finding Illyrians willing to help us help them instead of accept death was-" Helion just shrugged, looking at Rhys. "You all are too stubborn for your own good. Eris, what do you want for food? You'll need it."

Rhys held his hand up. "I know where he likes to eat here. I will send you two food. I'm going to get everyone else out for a break, though. And to explain what's happening." He motioned for Thesan and Helion to come with him, squeezing Azriel's shoulder and shooting Eris one last look before shutting the door.

Silence fell between the two of them, both of their eyes locked on you. "If this saves her, you need to grovel and apologize immediately." Eris would not look at him. "I would have never said to my mate what you said to her on their deathbed."

Azriel nodded. "Why are you doing this?"

Eris finally looked up at him, before looking at you. "You came and saved me from that bitch of a queen and the deathless God, Azriel. She nursed me back to health and healed me after countless beating from my father. You are my friends, even if you do not acknowledge that. I care about you, Az." Eris paused, his eyes focused on the fire, starting it back up into a gentle blaze to heat the room again. "Besides, I quite enjoy your wife. She is wonderful. Even if you are a moody brute."

Azriel laughed lightly. Allowing silence to fall between the two of them again. His shadows appeared some time later with two books from thin air, taking one to Eris and dropping one in Azriel's lap. They then pushed side tables to the two males as Rhys sent them food.

Eris guffawed in awe as Azriel's shadows began to cut their steaks. "Is this your way of saying thank you, shadowsinger?" Azriel nodded. Opening his mouth while staring at Eris to allow his companions to feed him. "You're welcome, Azriel. She looks better already." And you did. Color had slightly returned to your face. Your lashes occasionally fluttered against your cheeks.

They welcomed in quiet again, finishing their meals and desserts before a soft knock came on the door almost an hour later. A shadow opened it, and Eris's face almost fell before he chuckled through his breath. "You are not the one I was expecting."

The scent of rain and fresh cut grass hit Azriel. Had this been a different circumstance, Azriel would have shielded you, protectrd you, but he knew there was only one way this male got in, and that sacrifice from Rhysand shocked him.

"My schedule clears easily these days." Tamlin placed a hand on Azriel's shoulder. "You look like shit, Azriel." The shadowsinger watched Thesan appear and began to unhook Eris.

The heir moved to the chair by Azriel, drinking the water a shadow had handed to him as the small puncture wound instantly healed. They watched as Thesan hooked Tamlin up to you. They watched as Tamlin's blood seemed to instantly make a huge difference. You had stopped shivering completely. Your body relaxed. You were even breathing deeper.

Thesan observed for a while. Watching as Rhys then sent Tamlin food, causing the two high lords to laugh. "Tarquin will be here by morning, and Kal will be here tomorrow afternoon. The Inner Circle is each going to take turns after you, with the exception of Rhysand. Feyre will sit in his place. Then Tarquin, Kal, then Helion and myself. I think it will take all of us since she was so advanced into the illness."

Tamlin nodded. "I apologize I was not here sooner."

Thesan shook his head. "Eris was more than enough to get her off the brink. Now, all you have to do is sit and stabilize her, and from there, we will heal her."

Thesan crossed his arms in front of his body, brows raised as he nodded to the plate in front of Tamlin. "I was informed not to leave until you ate a bite." Tamlin laughed as shadows copied their previous motions, cutting his steak like they had for Eris before holding a bite to his face.

Eris had fallen asleep, his head resting on Azriel's shoulder. Thesan grabbed a blanket, pulling it over the heir, and Azriel wrapped a wing around him on instinct as well.

"She's going to recover, Azriel," Thesan said. "Might want to start writing that apology letter. Rhys said her thoughts regarding you were not kind when she called for him. Something about stupid illyrian brutes and over egotistical bastards?"

Tamlin and Azriel laughed. Azriel didn't take his eyes off of you as you shakily raised a single finger to him. "So a fancy date, an apology letter, and a vacation. Noted, my love."

[gabessquishytum]

Time for some dreamling crack! I apologize for the length, it got out of control. Destiny is done. He's just done, okay? He's had enough of his parents who were never there, siblings who are constantly up to some shit, and his ultra-serious job with no vacations. Moreover, being constantly chained to a book (especially when it's such a huge and heavy book) sucks. So, one day he makes an ultimate decision to go on a holiday into some remote galaxy for a century or two, but first, he needs to complete one task that he actually assigned to himself. Technically, he's not supposed to intervene and all that cosmic bullshit, but he's Destiny, and that's his destiny, pun intended. He's the CEO! The year is 1389. Destiny calls Death and tells her they need to go to Dream asap. She's surprised and slightly worried but obeys without questions. Dream is even more surprised - Destiny normally never visits, so the circumstances must be exceptional. Which they are. Destiny is in no mood for pleasantries and gets straight to the business, informing Dream that he needs to get laid for the common good. Dream bluescreens, and so does Death. 'I beg you pardon?' Dream blinks. Destiny never jokes, and he must have misheard… But Destiny, in his impassive, 100% serious tone, repeats that Dream does need to get laid. To prevent the deaths of thousands of dreamers in the 20th century, to prevent the grudge with hell, to save multiple dreams and nightmares, etc., but ultimately, to save himself from the ill fate. 'All this can be prevented if I get laid?' Dream's metaphorical head is spinning. 'Yes,' Destiny deadpans. 'Okay...' Death interrupts cautiously. 'Why am I here, though?' 'Because he needs to get laid regularly, and there is only one human who can handle this task. He must be made immortal for this reason.'

Dream feels like the Dream.exe file has been irrevocably damaged. 'I need to get laid regularly?' He repeats weakly. 'Brother, you know how important my function is. I have no time for-' 'This is exactly why you meet your doom in all the futures but one.' '…where I'm getting laid?' Destiny nods. Death beams. Dream pales to a previously unexisting shade of white. Without further ado, Destiny takes them all to the White Horse, buys some ale (his vacation mood starts to kick in - he expected more objections from Dream), and nods at one table. 'Robert Gadling. He is the chosen one.' 'Brother, you surely do not want me to lay with a mortal who has fleas and hasn't bathed for Delirium knows how long,' says terrified Dream. 'I surely do. Fleas are the least of your potential problems, little brother.' 'Alright.' Death says. 'Robert Gadling is immortal now. Can I go?' Destiny nods again. Death smiles and, before disappearing, loudly whispers to Dream to invite her to the wedding. Dream glances one last time at his brother and approaches Robert's table. If this is his destiny...and it's for the greater good of the universe and dreamers...Besides, this Robert Gadling is quite handsome - well, unwashed and smelly, but handsome still. Destiny is very pleased. Now, he only needs to sign up Desire for a few millennia of uncancellable therapy, and he can go drink his cocktails in a galaxy far, far away!

I love this, thank you so much for writing it all out. It really made me chuckle.

I'm absolutely obsessed with the idea of Destiny just getting really sick of the universe and all the bullshit that it contains. He's the equivalent of a harassed middle aged working parent attempting to keep everything under control and inevitably watching it all go to shit. He deserves such a good vacation, I hope there's a really good spa in the galaxy he's picked out.

Being the oldest sibling is hard, even when you come from a family of cosmic entities. And honestly? Destiny kind of likes the look of his new human brother-in-law. If this guy can keep Dream from going off the rails then that's wonderful, but the fact that he's cute? Also helps. Destiny may be blind but he is not immune to the Hobpropaganda. He's actually kind of not dreading the next family dinner? He can already see that it's going to run a whole lot smoother with Hob around the table.

But first: bottomless mimosas in a different star system. Bye, losers!

[medakakurokami]

I finished over 100 visual novels, here’s a long post with some recommendations

Last month I hit 100 Finished VN’s over on the VNDB and I thought I’d shoot out some recommendations while the Steam Summer Sale is going on (even though some of these aren’t going to be on Steam)

I already have finished up some stragglers and caught some shorter titles so it’s up to 104 Finished, but all the better. I have been reading some VN’s since 2015, but it really became a hobby and a genre I was invested in during Covid lockdown in 2020. I had trouble getting into some of the popular titles, but a couple of games that were lesser known at that time really blew me away that year and I started digging more into the medium. I still have a lot to try out and other classics I’m still interested in trying, but here’s a top 10 I’m confident in recommending to most people, at least the kinda people that would follow this blog. A few of these recommendations are actually multi-part series, but hopefully accessible all around.

Planetarian ($10 on Steam and Switch, ~$5 on sale)

This is a very late entry onto this list but I think it’s an easy recommendation. This is a very short 2-4 hour visual novel that got a well received 2 hour movie adaptation in 2016, but it was strong enough that even while knowing the plot everything still hit hard. It is a story set 30 years after an apocalyptic event destroys most of the world, as a human junk-trader comes across a planetarium with a somehow-still-functional robot named Hoshino still performing her daily duties after 30 years without customers or coworkers. It can come across as a bit saccharine, but it is a quick, well made, and effective tearjerker.

Narcissu 1st & 2nd (Free on Steam)

Narcissu’s first two parts are pretty compelling stories to do with suicidal ideation within the scope of the terminally ill. Which is to say they’re also real tear jerkers, and pretty open about some harsh self-reflective emotions. They both have stellar endings, and can be quite immersive despite the very limited artwork (if the screencap looks weird, the game’s art exists within a narrow strip on the screen, with a sentence or two reading out the story underneath it). Maybe the least accessible on this list, but a $0 price tag makes it easier in some sense to get into.

Umineko no Naku Koro ni / When The Seagulls Cry (~$50 on Steam, $30 on sale)

Umineko you’ve probably already heard of, and here’s me recommending it. Umineko comes in two parts, on Steam referred to as the Questions Arc and the Answers Arc. Despite the split, the overall story follows the events of a certain day on Rokkenjima Island in 1986 as a family meets to discuss their inheritance and their family’s mysteries. Unbeknownst to them they are soon haunted, over and over again, by the revenant of the Golden Witch said to live in the woods of their family’s island.

I’m in the minority of preferring the Questions Arc, where well written and deeply human characters find themselves in deeply inhumane and nonsensical scenarios. The Answers Arc back seats some of that to start delving into an esoteric explosion of clues and backstories, and was still very entertaining even if I was more invested in the episodic stories than the overarching mystery. This may also be seen as inaccessible, $30-50 for a slightly older title and over 140 hours long on average playthroughs, but it is deeply absorbing.

Witch on the Holy Night a.k.a. Mahoyo ($40 on PS4 and Switch)

Mahoyo is me and Nasu’s marriage counselor, it really made me see the good in him. It follows a young witch co-habitating with her magic colleague and the puppy-like boy that unwittingly steps into their world at risk to his own life, just as unexplained apparent murders are witnessed in their town.

This could possibly be a higher level recommendation, though it was apparently intended to have sequels and you can somewhat feel that in the isolated feeling of its main conflict. Despite this, the game is definitely worth experiencing for its classy charm and extremely well made action sequences that at times make you forget you’re not watching a full anime film. It’s also a showcase of Nasu’s strengths in writing character interactions and comedy, and he finally lets Show take over and stops Telling you piles of mage society worldbuilding quite so often. It is also has some of the highest quality production value I’ve ever seen, second maybe to...

Marco and the Galaxy Dragon ($20 on Steam/Switch, less than $10 on sale)

Marco and the Galaxy Dragon is an explosive opera of art, energy, color, and of course music. It follows the orphaned Marco and her dragon compatriot Arco as they hunt for treasure across the cosmos, finding their way to Earth on the hunt for Marco’s mother.

If Umineko’s 140 hours seems steep, Marco has you covered with a quick 6 hour rundown of a rebellious orphan fighting back against her space alien menace to find her own sense of place and identity in the universe, along with ALL the friends she made along the way. If Mahoyo feels like an anime film sometimes, Marco actually just has fully animated FMV cutscenes that are fun as hell and have their own unique artstyle to the VN itself. Thousands of pieces of artwork and a 52-track OST fill the game’s short runtime with no cut corners and and overflow of passion from the devs. Honestly even if you don’t want to read it go buy it, it’s cheap and they earned it.

White Album 2 (You’ll have to be creative to find this one)

This is the only recommendation that’s currently only available in an adults only 18+ Rating for the English translation. That being said, it’s one of the few erotic VN’s that felt justified in its pornographic scenes. The story is split into two releases: Opening Chapter and Closing Chapter.

Opening is a short and powerfully delivered love triangle narrative following Haruki, Setsuna, and Touma as their hastily formed 3-man light music band falls into itself with feelings. It’s charming but gut wrenching and sweeps you into its drama very effectively before kicking you on your ass in the end.

Closing Chapter is a long and drawn out disassembling of their lives as they fail to heal from the wounds of the relationships seen in Opening. It, to great effect, takes the readers own experience with how fun and passionate the Opening Chapter was, and shows how trying to cling to halcyon days can make us so dispassionate about our present lives. Painful stuff! Good music, too.

The Princess, The Stray Cat, and Matters of the Heart 1 & 2

a.k.a. Noratoto ($40 on Steam for both, ~$15 for both on sale)

This is a very personal recommendation, and maybe one more easy to make on this blog where many of my followers might be receptive to sincere but slapstick ecchi comedy as art. Every route is highly different however and to me, some are pretty average for galge, while others stand out as amazing. The comedy writing as well feels like it was written by someone with actual comic writing experience, and not just regurgitating the usual ecchi manga jokes.

The general premise of Noratoto is the protagonist Nora, being transformed into a cat by Patricia the princess of the Netherworld, and he must reverse this curse via a kiss before it becomes permanent. A benign fairy tale premise, but one that somehow gives way to underlying stories about existence and finding purpose in families and where that leaves those without families or with abusive or divided families (it is from the same developers as Marco and the Galaxy Dragon, and the themes of finding identity without family match up very closely). Uniquely it is a visual novel written somewhat in 3rd person, narrated by a motherly voice as if the VN was being read to you as a bedtime story.

Like I said, it is dependent on route and some come across as your usual ecchi gal-game schtick, but some stick out, and if every route was as high quality as Nobuchina’s in the 2nd game, it would probably be my favorite visual novel.

The Original Ace Attorney Trilogy ($30 on most platforms, $10 on sale)

You’ve almost certainly heard of Ace Attorney already and have most likely played it. This is me telling any Ace Attorney fans reading that the original trilogy still reigns supreme (regardless of Turnabout Big Top). This is also me telling anyone who has held out on trying Ace Attorney to try it, and to start with the original trilogy.

Obviously this trilogy follows the Meme Man Himself, Phoenix Wright, as he defends the innocent and brings the guilty to justice acting as both lawyer and his own main investigator. While each case presents a unique mystery, the original trilogy has an underlying arc that reaches from beginning to end with a massive conspiracy that Phoenix has to breach to bring justice to the perpetrators and resolve the memory and regrets of his beloved mentor.

These games have some speedbumps as you may be banging your head against the wall trying to find the right evidence, but the experience that breaks through does so with gusto, succeeding on what it sets out to be: games that make you feel like you’ve brought justice to the world.

Utawarerumono Trilogy ($40/60 each on Steam, trilogy bundle $62 on sale)

Utawarerumono was my first proper visual novel, and it set the standards pretty high. I’ve posted about it several times in the last few years, and it remains one of my favorites. It is a labor of love on the part of the developers (the same developers as White Album 2), who developed the latter two games over the course of several years and have made this the spearhead of their company for the time being. Which makes sense, since it is about war.

The first game follows a masked man who is given the name Hakuoro waking up in a rural village with amnesia, confused about the strange population of beast-men living there. Despite not understanding his situation, his ingenuity brings the village prosperity. When the local lords try to put the village under their thumb, Hakuoro and the villagers are able to turn the tides against them. Their village grows into a kingdom as Hakuoro seeks the mysteries of himself and the world around him.

The latter two games pick up some twenty years after the conclusion of the first, and follow a man who is given the name Haku, waking up in the woods with amnesia confused about the... you get it. He is met by Kuon, a young girl on her way traveling to the capital of their nation of Yamato. Haku graciously accepts her help getting out of the cold woods, and decides to join her to the capital. As events play out, Haku finds himself under the direct command of the nation’s leader the Mikado, and carries out missions on his behalf as the nation continues to drag itself into war and conflict and Haku also seeks the truth of his identity.

These games are expansive in scope while still putting a large focus on the day-to-day lives of its characters. Around 100 hours across all three games it is impressive how much story it manages to fit in, but the pacing does bounce around between sweeping conflict and sleepy conversations. It is also in part, a strategy RPG game with the battles in the war being controlled by the player. These are decently made, especially well in the third game, but don’t ask too much of the player and the story remains the main focus and biggest portion of the runtime.

The House In Fata Morgana a.k.a. Fatamoru

($40 complete version on PS4/Switch, ~$40 main game + expansion on Steam)

I’ve gushed about this enough on this tumblr, I’ll keep it brief.

You are a formless soul who is led by the hand of a mysterious maid through the doors of a mansion on an unknown plane of existence. Through each door lies a story of the house in a different era, all following people bound together in ways that leave them cruelly and violently undone by the end of their stories. The connection between these stories, the mystery of the house and the supposed witch that resides within, and the mystery of You the wandering soul all slowly unravel in a bloody show of catharsis and soul. The game is dripping with traumatic poetic text, grating beautiful music, and all of its atmosphere geared toward being oppressive yet enticing. One of the best things I’ve read.

Honorable mentions:

Va-11 Hall-A and Endless Mondays get shout outs as some of the best Original English Language VN’s I’ve read, with cool artstyles and a mature cast they manage to be fun and relatable. Va-11 Hall-A delivers a great arc for its protagonist and Endless Mondays has great dialogue on the threat of automation of creative industries.

Grisaia Trilogy and Hatsumira are both absolutely raucous trilogies that are a lot of fun. Not wholly recommendable to all, Grisaia has some strong moments and a hilarious unique cast but is a mess overall (but we love Michiru). Hatsumira is a bit more consistent, a more stable and fantasy-oriented Grisaia.

A.I. The Somnium Files duology are detective games with highly divisive endings, but great comedy and characters that make them very easy to get through and enjoy the whole way to the end. It’s just a toss-up whether you’ll like that ending.

Sakura Wars games are finally being translated, and they are a great showing for anyone who wants to try some classic dating sim stuff but with some pizazz thrown in with the setting and mecha combat.

The Tears to Tiara duology by the same developers of Utawarerumono and White Album is also one to keep an eye out for. The first game's definitive version isn't available in English and the second game is stuck on the PS3 and no longer available digitally, but if they ever come out on Steam they are worth your time.

Nanairo Reincarnation and Kinkoi: Golden Loveriche are also two solid ecchi comedy galge. Both have surprisingly deep and genuinely heartbreaking underlying mysteries and conclusions.

I still have a lot I wanna read, Planetarian is the only Key novel I’ve read. On the docket are Labyrinth of Galleria, Little Busters, the 9 -nine- series, and Kara no Shoujo and White Album 1 releasing on Steam this year. Some classics I didn’t mention are Fate/Stay Night, Muv Luv, Steins Gate. Muv Luv I read Extra and enjoyed it, but never pulled the trigger on reading the rest, I may at some point on a whim. Steins;Gate I played through half of on PS3 and now my PS3 is in the closet, the VN is really good and has a unique atmosphere to the anime, buuuuuuut knowing the plot has made it hard to want to restart on PC or another console. Steins;Gate is good, if anyone is reading this far and hasn’t seen the anime or read the VN, do it.

[uchihaharlot]

Hello! I hope you are fine <3🤲💗

I wanted to ask you about some Uchiha HCs as parents (especially Shisui haha). Idk, things like "How they would react if their Y/N told them they were going to be parents" or "How many children would they have if they had them and how would they treat them?"

🥹 mmm Shisui. Yes. 🙌🏻 Since I’m in a fog, I’ll choose Obito and Shisui — I will probably add more later and reblog then. Focusing more on Shisui though.

(I sort of expanded on this a bit. Leading up to birth etc).

Suggestive themes — mostly N/SFW; pregnancy reactions; and some other cute shit idk how to categorize. Ok yea, I went a bit crazy on Shisui, he’s my blorbo.

Obito:

• Even if it’s planned, he’s going to spiral. It worked on the first time? Duh, Uchiha. Really just stupid luck.

• ‘Already?’ — Obito; ‘….I mean…that’s what happens when you have sex..’ — her. She’s so patient though with him.

• Obito will spend the next few days not necessarily moping, but in minor distress. The whole thing about having a baby this soon, even though it was planned. Has really got him thinking.

• ‘I need to get my shit together.’ He’s not wrong, but they’re not in a bad place. All the financial matters were sorted out before she even went off the pill. She’s going to spend a lot of time easing his worries when he should be settling hers.

• He thinks they can’t have sex anymore 😂 ‘I’ll hurt the baby.’ This woman will have to coax him to satisfy her needs and being hormonal, he’s going to get scared and cave.

• Every time she’s sick, he’s sick. lol. Obito is one of those husbands that are sympathy ill when their wife is unwell, pregnant or not. Though the morning sickness he had worse than her.

• When she actually starts showing, the tables are turned. Obito can’t keep his hands off her. This is amazing! ‘I put that in you…’ —🫠 👈🏻 her. Yea, he did, that big dummy stuffed her good.

• When she is too big to do anything for herself, Obito takes center stage in everything. He matured rather quickly, strange how the prospect of becoming a dad alters an individual.

• 😅 Hit it from the back too rough and ultimately the orgasm she had made her go into labor (I know this is false advertisement but it’s Obito, he’s that guy).

• Nearly passes out as his wife is sprawled up on the stirrups, looks anyways and dear lord, ‘are you recording this?’ She says. Yea, he is. Unintentionally the sharingan populates and he might as well.

• Holds his son for the first time and cries. I think most men do, he’s the most precious thing in this world. Obito didn’t think he could ever make up for what he did in the past, but this one human. This tiny, itty bitty baby boy might just be his Hail Mary. That he could even bring something so good into the world makes him soften even more.

Shisui:

• Family man. 100%. They’ve been trying, and it’s not taking. Not because they’re incapable of it, both healthy and young. He’s just so busy. The days they end up trying don’t line up with her cycle and I mean they’re not just going to not have sex. Any chance he gets to put a bit of him and a little Uchiha inside her are precious moments.

• Firm believer in holding her legs up for a half hour 😂 ‘it has to marinate.’ Big eye rolls from his wife, who just lets him do things his way. After a few months, she finally begs him to just take a week off when she’s the most susceptible of his seed taking root.

• The mere idea that she is rearing and ready to go has Shisui taking his wife at the most unexpected of times. Maybe a week off was a good idea. Needless to say, the house chores are piling up. She wasn’t particularly fond of being shoved head first in the dryer either.

• ‘Making baby is the fun part…’ is his excuse when she chides him for it. Dear lord, this man shooting blanks and still trying.

• Then the unimaginable is announced, well not unimaginable but it felt like too long to actually confirm they were successful. Shisui from this point forward makes sure his pregnant wife gets everything she wants and then some.

• There is no shock period. This was all planned, Shisui is eternally grateful that his wife will be ushering their next of kin into the world. All the hard work is on her now and he is going to make sure she is treated like royalty.

• Though he questions some of her cravings, ‘…really? Ok….’ He won’t judge her, but goddamn it’s not something he’d eat.

• Copious amounts of pampering. Spends ridiculous amounts of money to have her swollen feet pedicured once a month, if she doesn’t want that he will do it himself. Her care is nonnegotiable and she is getting big with life inside of her! She needs some reprieve from the constant drain on her body.

• We aren’t even going to lie, they pretty much have sex up until the baby is born, though not like how Obito did. It’s maybe twice a week, which is less often but enough. If she’s not in the mood for it herself, she would offer to relieve him. Though he might feel guilty, so he would just use his mouth in return if she wasn’t opposed to something less invasive on her aching body. She’ll agree, Shisui is talented in those regards.

• She was making tea in the kitchen when her water broke, Shisui was out on a mission!!! She had to get Itachi to send word of bird and less than an hour he’s back. Exhausted and tired, he made it for the birth. He knew that he shouldn’t have taken that mission but she was adamant he do what he felt necessary for their village. Such a understanding woman!

• Is planting kisses to her forehead, cheeks and lips whenever she starts pushing. Holds one of her legs when the baby is finally crowning, and watches the miracle of birth. The fruit of their passion and love is wayfered into this big world. So beautiful and precious. A son, I often hc Shisui would name his first son Kagami. (I’m pretty sure the series alluded them being related).

• 🥹🥹🥹🥹 👈🏻 shisui 👉🏻 🥴😴 his wife after labor. He is wholly enamored at the tiny being in his arms. Takes the time to figure out which features their baby got from who. Undoubtedly this kid has his mop head of curls. Her nose and eye color, his eye shape and ears. 100% them.

[the-gay-prometheus]

Important Update

Thankfully, as of Sunday, her symptoms started to improve, but we still went ahead with the stool sample to make sure that her immune system had finally kicked in and was fighting off the cocci on its own. Results today showed that the sample was now negative, which means we don't have to worry about any medication right now. That said $79.50 (receipt is screenshotted and included) is still a major blow when you've only got $140 to your name and no guarantee of employment and no other assistance.

So. I appreciate everyone who has shared this post and the individual who donated (and thanks to that individual, this is no where near as urgent now)! If anyone the ability to help me cover the rest of the cost I would super appreciate it and it would help a lot, but otherwise I'm not in panic mode at the moment.

Thanks to everyone who was so willing to help!

~~~

Alright I hate to have to do this but I don't really have any other choice right now.

Hi. I'm Jay. Or Victor. Or Viktor. Any of those names work. I'm a disabled neurodivergent transmasc who is currently in unemployment hell because the few jobs I am physically capable of and meet all of the requirements for are also coincidentally all the jobs that either don't want to hire me, or just straight up won't get back to me. I'm sending out applications daily, so far I have gotten three interviews, one of which was for a job that it turns out I would not be physically capable of doing, the second ended up being filled before I could even get to the second interview, and I still haven't heard back from the third. Needless to say, I have absolutely zero income right now.

This is my cat.

Her name is Catra.

Catra recently got extremely ill to the point of needing to be hospitalized, which meant that between me and my family, she has recently cost well over $3000. At this point, my family cannot afford to help me with any more medical costs for her, and I can't afford to continue with extra medical costs for her if I want to still be able to feed her until I do manage to get a job. Thankfully she has made a very strong recovery, for the most part...

However, she is also now battling a nasty coccidia infection that seems to be resistant to the medication the vets had given her. Which means I am once again going to need to send in a $75 stool sample and pay for a different medication. My parents will not help now as they have already gone over budget for her and also believe it is my fault that I haven't been able to find a job, but I literally cannot live without this cat. I will not live without this cat. She is all I have left right now.

So that said. If you have even a little bit to spare, I would greatly appreciate it. I'm asking for $100 $79.50 to cover the stool sample and the medication. Thank you in advance.

Please make sure if you do send anything that you select the 'friends and family' option. If you can't send anything, I would appreciate reblogs and signal boosts. Thank you.

$36.26/79.50

paypal: @binonjay

venmo: @BiNonJay

cashapp: $BiNonJay

[probablydinosaurs]

five joking about his life or throwing it in their faces makes the siblings uneasy. they cant FATHOM it and it hurts. tbh i feel once they aren't all in such danger and ignoring his warnings and ring leader like behavior , they would slowly start spoiling him a bit. he wouldn't notice at all at first but over time, he gets a deep sense that everyone pities him but he cant place it. he'd start denying any hand outs or good will bc he doesn't want to be seen as a headcase that needs coddling. and i think different siblings are in different camps if u put "baby" and "old man" on a sliding scale. none of these are like extreme stances, more just the vibes they feel from five.

Luther: old man 80% bc hes the only one that see's five's "older" self and can 100% say. same guy no changes. mentally unsound…. but like five stated in that whole fiasco, Luther has daddy issues and cant like. see that old man in such a young man. Luther has 1 half a brain cell. his need to nod and agree to every old man he listens to illnesses wont allow it. so he weirdly flip flops. he also develops the habit of trying to pick five up to calm him down, witch ends very poorly each time.

Diego: protective brother energy. cant fathom his brother got THAT much trauma in him. and is older then him. 13 years of being all the same age. 13 years of sharing the same birthday. and now well everyone ages up together, five is in his own corner being like 67 well the rest are like mm idk math 40 something. Diego just cant…think that far. denial. every time he thinks he's used to this old man or starts seeing him as the same age as everyone, five info dumps about the inner workings of a specific gun or the how good the wine in the celler will be 37 years exactly from now and to wait…Diego just mentally reboots.

Allison: baby camp. didn't take him very seriously back in the day either bc his ego is the size of a watermelon. and oh look the lil guy thinks bc he has more life behind him then us, he thinks he's the smartest one here. yeah right. she makes him his coffee when he wakes up or folds his Landry bc she needs to do hers and he forgot to take his out. five just thinks shes being passive aggressive but its more "if i don't then he might hurt himself or mumbling to himself about how forgetful he has become and i do NOT want to here that right how. il just do it. " tough love babying. five sometimes lets her brush his hair when he's in a bad state of mind.

klaus: depends on the day. he is the one who tease him about his height the most. i think Klaus tries to pinch his cheeks at least once a day and nearly got a blade through his hand at attempt # 23. but he also is second one that weirdly respects him the most. complementing how happy he looks DUE to his retirement and not just in general. likes buying him the stuffiest old man clothes ever from off the road and down an alley thrift shops, thinking everyone would find them silly but five like. genuinely adores them and borderlines on feeling the want to hug him but neh. too stubborn. almost though. witch is rare. five will never admit that he thinks Klaus has a good fashion sense.

ben: the brother that ruffles his hair the most. the two that severed the family. they have a unspoken energy about them. you don't mention my death, i wont bring up your past deal. Ben doesn't really care anyway. on the "i got my brother back, that's all that matters." camp with viktor. fuels five's need to bicker on topics. their hard ass but still playful energy balances each other out. is the one that tells klaus that the clothes he picks out for five is too much and he will hate them but gets surprised every time five likes them. riiight right. he wouldn't have the tastes as the 13 year old i remember him as. he downs scotch like a mad lad. gotta remember that.

viktor: leader of the "he could have come back to us as an acorn like dad warned and id still keep him in my pocket." camp. just happy to have his favorite sibling back. though they admit five also being the most open with him makes him uneasy. he wants to listen about the past 45 years but it can be very existential for viktor. five understands and lets him breath if its too much. (stealing this from this post) i feel like five owns and somehow still has on him a very worn and well loved copy of viktor's book. with notes and highlights scribbled in them. the cover fell off and five sewn it back on then poorly laminated it with the commission's laminating machine . viktor would cry if he saw it. full blown meltdown together.

[anxiousdreamcore]

May I humbly asks for your interpretation/opinion/view of the Spider & Quaritch as well as the Spider & Sullies relationships/dynamics ?

Sure! I’ve complained about how my opinion of the characters changed throughout the year of being engaged in the fandom so I might as well share! 🤭

Spider: An audacious, frat-boy-ish teen who stinks of dirt, sweat and will eat a live bug to gross you out. Kiri said that he bites and she was 100% honest because this kid will fling his mask off and tear into your throat if you mess with his baby siblings 😤 at the same time, he’s more than capable of being responsible and gentle, especially when it comes to Pandora, its wildlife and cultures, all of which are clearly very important to him. A menace with a heart of gold and an iron fucking will, untameable. Unbreakable. No authority scares him.

Quaritch: A man so damaged he can’t be repaired. He’s seen too many horrors, killed too many people, watched too many comrades die, has been infected with too much poison. It runs in his veins and destroys everything he touches…which is precisely why he is only likeable as a father. He has never been one before and that part of him is completely new, not yet damaged. The only part of him not yet tainted by the rotten creature that is the rest of him. A mangy, old army dog that will burn Pandora to the ground if its chain is broken, but will lie down and wag its tail for his child, and only him.

Oh, and he’s mentally ill too, at least to some extent, canonically. It’s not to say that his mental illness makes him a bad guy. No. It’s the lack of care he puts into coping with it that contributes to the dumpster fire that is Miles Quaritch. My personal headcannon is that he needs mood-stabilisers yet regularly skips them.

Spider & Quaritch dynamic: Two outcasts who bond over being isolated by their respective groups. Also, Lima and Stockholm syndrome duo! Quaritch gets an instant liking to Spider that soon grows into fatherly love, as Spider brings out the best in him; his most pure, childish and kind traits. Does the rest of him, the rotten, the poisoned, hate it? Oh, absolutely. But he can’t, won’t stop the wild-child from worming his way deep into his decaying heart. Spider meanwhile battles his own platonic feelings and holds onto his resentment as much as he can. He wants to love Miles but he doesn’t. He loves him but he wishes him an agonising death. He wants to be hugged by him and sink a blade into his chest. He wants Miles to prove him that not all grown ups are rotten and he can still be loved. He wants Miles to love him.

Spider & Sully siblings dynamic: “A family disappointment and local cool stoner to his siblings, who are more than happy to take after him because they think his utter freedom and lack of care for authority is cool” kinda vibe. Will play fight with his siblings and bite their noses before kissing them better and shoving them away. Calls Tuk a little gremlin affectionately. Brings Lo’ak back down to Pandora when he spirals into his insecurities or gets too bold and self-sacrificial. Is platonic soulmates with Kiri and feels a profound connection to her, as she does to him. Resents Neteyam for abandoning their little group to become a "respectable warrior". Wants him back. Wishes things could be like when they were kids.

Spider & Neytiri dynamic: She she sees him as a pesky, dangerous demon child that…that didn’t do anything but stay loyal, through all the torture and horrors. A lot of guilt is present between them after the final battle, and they will definitely have a horrible, explosive argument about it sooner or later, but for now they are content at silently sharing space, at time quipping and taking light jabs at each other, because that is their cycle. Playfulness, fear, resentment, until it all explodes and they scream at each other, then the cycle repeats, fuelled by guilt. Is there a chance to stop it? Will they ever be okay?

Spider & Jake dynamic: Hero worship turned disappointment. Spider idolised him for his status and incredible feats as a child but as he grew, and Jake consistently kept him at an arms length without establishing clear boundaries, the constant pining to have him as a father became a never-ending, aching pain in Socorro’s chest. Jake gave him an empty hope that they might one day be a family, without ever clarifying that it’ll never be true, confusing the boy until he was proved not once, not twice, but thrice, that he isn’t needed, isn’t missed, or loved by Jake. He’s a stray animal, and that is all he’ll ever be to him. He knows better now than to wish for something that can never be…doesn’t even want to. Quaritch might be a horrific monster, but at least he genuinely loves him. He doesn’t need Jake’s pathetic scraps of affection anymore. He doesn’t need him anymore.

•

[katnisspeetaprim]

D-Day Japan Night 1 (Always, Us)

Min Yoongi/FemIdol!Reader Part 1 Here

Summary: You are finally able to join Yoongi on stage for his solo tour in Japan... Based partly on this request, but also part 2 of the Suchwita couple! There may be more parts to come to this, depending on how much you guys like this!

Warnings: Established relationship, fem!reader, idol!au, pregnancy, mentions of sex, mentions of marriage, happy tears.

Word Count: 1536 M.list

It had been a few months since the episode of Suchwita that got a little too personal. You and Yoongi had yet to have an official wedding ceremony for your family, but in all fairness, he had since started his first solo tour.

Yoongi had wanted you to join him from the start of his tour in the US, so that you could accompany him on stage for certain songs, but unfortunately that wasn’t possible.

You had schedules with your own group to fulfil, and when those were finally over you fell ill, so the earliest you were able to join Yoongi on stage was for his first show in Japan.

‘Now I’m very excited for this next song.’ Yoongi moved back to centre stage, sipping from his straw as he did so. ‘I have a special guest. Please welcome my beautiful wife, Y/N!’ He gestured to the back of the stage as you ran up the stairs. The crowd screamed loudly as you appeared, showering you with love and support. You jogged up to Yoongi and gave him a quick side hug, before taking your place at the second microphone.

‘Hello everyone!’ You greeted with a big wave. ‘Thank you for having me! I’m excited to be here!’

‘Y/N hasn’t been feeling well lately, so please show her lots of love.’ Yoongi announced, causing the crowd to gasp out and call your name.

‘Until she’s 100% better, she’s only going to perform one song. I hope that’s ok.’

Performing People pt.2 with Yoongi was a dream come true. Despite both being active idols for over a decade now, you’d never actually had the opportunity to perform together. You knew you had big shoes to fill by singing IU’s part, but the crowd seemed to be having a good time, and that’s all that mattered.  Yoongi was also being extremely protective, with only letting you perform one song. In truth you felt fine, just a bit of sickness here and there. But then again, maybe his worry wasn’t all unfounded...

When the last notes of the song rang out, the arena went wild. You once again hugged Yoongi, but also kissed him too, making the crowd go even crazier than before.

‘Ok that’s enough PDA.’ He spoke into the mic.

‘Thank you for having me tonight. I hope to see you again tomorrow!’ With that, you gave a bow and made your way off stage, so as not to hold up the show too much.

‘Y/N everybody!’

You’d met Yoongi in the car taking you back to the hotel, not wanting to be hanging round the arena for ages after the show. You knew what he was like sometimes.

‘Hey.’ You smiled and reached out for him as soon as he opened the door. He leaned in and kissed you with a smile.

‘Why didn’t you wait for me?’ He looked at you questioningly as the car pulled away.

‘Just eager to get back is all.’ Yoongi gave you a look, but just settled for taking your hand and pulling out his phone, so he could look up peoples thoughts about the show online.

‘This is just gonna be a quick live whilst we eat.’ Yoongi spoke to the camera as he arranged the food on plates for himself and you. He had taken to doing lives after his shows recently so he cold engage with his fans a little more, even if it was only whilst he ate.

‘Yes Y/N is still here. She’s just getting dressed.’ The chat started to move faster, really jumping on the implications of what he had just said. Yoongi was puzzled for a moment, before he started laughing, realising his mistake.

‘Please get your minds out of the gutter! She was in the shower.’

‘You’ve been live for two seconds and you’re already corrupting people.’ You joked, pushing open the bathroom door. You could hear him speaking through the wall as you freshened up.

‘It’s not my fault that’s how ARMY’s minds work!’

‘Bye guys, bye!’ You blew a kiss to the camera as Yoongi switched it off.

‘Ah, what a night.’ Yoongi stretched out as he tossed the garbage to the side.

‘I hope that’s a good sigh mister.’ You crawled over to your husband and straddled his lap on the small armchair.

‘Definitely.’ His hands came to rest on your bum, squeezing playfully.

‘Excuse you, that’s rude!’ You laughed. Leaning down and kissing him deeply. Yoongi moaned into the kiss and slid his hands under your shirt, squeezing your breasts. You broke away to lift your shirt over your head and quickly re connected your lips. He groaned as you rubbed against his growing bulge. Yoongi ran his hand across your body and round your back, about to unhook your bra, when suddenly there was a pounding at the door.

You quickly jumped away from him and ran into the bathroom to fix yourself, in case whoever was at the door needed to come inside. As you retreated, you heard Yoongi curse as he adjusted himself in his pants, before getting up to probably murder whoever was at the door.

A few minutes later, you re emerged from the bathroom fully dresses, just as Yoongi closed the main door.

‘Who was it?’

‘Just a staff member wanting to give me the schedule for tomorrow.’ He stalked back over to you and roughly grabbed you by the waist, causing you to gasp out and giggle. ‘Now where were we?’ He smirked against your skin.

You and Yoongi lay side by side, naked and tangled in the sheets. The room was dark around you, though neither of you were asleep. Just enjoying each others company.

Yoongi lay on his back, arm under your neck and fingers softly stroking your shoulder, as you lay on your side, hand resting on his chest.

You have to tell him. You thought to yourself. There’s no point waiting any longer and now’s a good a time as any.

‘Yoongi...’ Your voice was hoarse as you spoke, a reminder of your recent activities. ‘I need to tell you something.’ He just hummed in response. Taking a deep breath, you just blurted it out.

‘I’m pregnant.’ His fingers stilled on your shoulder. He was silent, almost as if he were processing your words, when he suddenly sat up, forcing you to do the same.

‘Are you serious.?’ He stared at you, mouth agape.

‘Of course I’m serious.’ You looked down, smiling as you pushed your hair behind your ears. ‘I know we didn’t really talk about it after Suchwita, but we haven’t really been careful, so maybe it was meant to be.’ Before you even finished speaking, his arms were flung round you and he was kissing the top of your head.

‘I can’t believe it! I’m gonna be a dad!’ He cried out, joyful tears already falling from his eyes.

‘And I’m gonna be a mom!’

‘Wait.’ He pulled back so he could see your face. ‘ does this have anything to do with you being sick recently?’ You laughed and gently wiped away his tears and playing with the ends of his hair.

‘Yes dummy. Morning sickness. I’m surprised you didn’t put two and two together.’ He smiled brightly and leaned in to kiss you. He suddenly pulled away and jumped out of bed, flicking the light on as he went.

You groaned out and covered your eyes at the sudden bright light. When you opened them, you were met with Yoongi pacing back and forth along the room, still with a wide smile plastered across his face.

‘What are you doing you doofus?’ You laughed at his antics.

‘I feel like I have a lot of energy to burn off suddenly!’ You threw your head back against the pillows and let out a hearty laugh.

‘Come back to bed, it’s like 2AM!’

‘You think I’m going to be able to sleep after getting the best news of my life!?’ He exclaimed, exasperated but still joined you back in bed none the less.

‘You need to be rested for the concert tomorrow.’ You snuggled back up to his side.

‘Will you still be able to perform with me tomorrow?’

‘I’m not made of glass Yoongi. I was pregnant when performing tonight you know.’ You chuckled lightly.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, you were jostled awake by Yoongi reaching for his phone and shooting off a quick text, before disregarding it back on the side table.

‘What was that?’ You asked sleepily.

‘I text the BTS group chat and told them you’re pregnant.’ He said nonchalantly.

Your eyes snapped open and you shot up with a start.

‘You told your members I’m pregnant through text!?’ You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now.

‘It’s easier this way.’ You stared down at your husband in disbelief. This man was going to be the death of you....

One the side table, Yoongi’s phone was already vibrating none stop. Instead of answering, he just reached over and put it on silent, before dragging you back down to cuddle.

He causes chaos and then just ignores it, naturally.  

[frvnkcastles]

I feel shithouse for asking since I'm not a girlie, bur I was! Trans guy here but honestly a trauma ex girlie!

Can I request something with a reader (doesn't matter the pronouns if you feel more comfy writing she/her that's chill!) Where the reader is asked to come to Christmas with their family, and frank is a plus one bur you're worried as your family are alcoholics (starting drinking at like 10 til late) and the reader is trying to cut down but their family is really pushy and feels like they're gonna fall back into bad patterns and Frank pulls them away for an hour just talking and smoking a cigarette as the readers the only dart smoker in the family as they've all transitioned to vaping?

(Maybe just mother, brother, sister in law and reader +frank, and possibly the radio keeps turning on and off and the family calling out readers grandparents in the afterlife as the cause v much jokingly?)

YOU’RE THE ONLY PLACE THAT FEELS LIKE HOME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you have to deal with your alcoholic family, Frank is there to support you.

Warnings: Alcoholism, implied past abuse, mention of deceased grandparents, reader smokes, language, gender neutral reader

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Anon, don’t feel bad at all!! This is a safe space for everyone no matter what and you’re 100% welcome here. I do wish more of my fics were gender neutral but often my ideas come from my own experiences as a mentally ill/traumatized woman and when I get requests, they usually mention she/her pronouns. That said, while I don’t really know how to write from the perspective of a man, I have no problem writing a gender neutral reader if it’s specified. Also, I am very sorry you had to wait such a long time for this, I hope you like it!! Sending you lots of love <3

When your family invited you to spend the holidays with them, you instinctively knew you were in for an uncomfortable time. Since you had moved out, you had tried to keep your distance and unlearn the bad habits that you had developed at home — like drinking. That was your first and foremost concern, having to witness their drunken behavior and how the situation would most likely escalate sooner or later, as it always did. You had done a great job of cutting down but you feared that being back in their company would force you to undo all your progress.

The one good thing about the whole thing was that they didn’t protest you bringing Frank along. He made most shitty situations better just by being present, and you instantly felt heard and comforted when he agreed to come with you. Frankly, he was opposed to the mere thought of letting you go alone, knowing all about your complicated family history and therefore determined to support you through every encounter.

”Y’know you’re allowed to decline, yeah? Don’t wanna see you puttin’ yourself through shit just ’cause they’re askin’”, he reminded as you were getting ready to leave for your mother’s house. Pulling on his jacket, he eyed you, looking for any hint of hesitation on your face, but you were doing a good job at putting up a brave front. You wanted to keep the peace, and admittedly, a little bit of you missed your family and ached to spend time with them, even if you knew it probably wouldn’t end well.

”Thanks, Frankie. It’s okay, I want to go. Just… need you by my side”, you sighed, and nodding, Frank stepped over to you to press a kiss on your temple, brief but full of emotion.

”You got me, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere”, he assured before taking your hand and steering you out the door.

He encouraged you to take deep breaths during the drive over, noticing with ease how anxiety was starting to manifest in your bouncing leg and chewed bottom lip. You tried to take Frank’s advice and keep yourself calm, but as soon as you arrived at the house, you came to the conclusion the night was already becoming more intense than you had anticipated.

There was a haze of drunken stupor in the air and loud chatter filled every room, tipping almost over to downright shouting. Bottles and cans littered the tables and the realization that everyone was already drunk unsettled you, making you swallow hard as you reached for Frank’s hand. He squeezed tight, unwavering as he stood next to you.

”Finally! Took you long enough”, your brother noticed you standing by the door, and he rushed to you, shoving a bottle of beer into your hands. You shook your head and handed it back over to him, which earned a scoff from me. ”What, you too good for us now?” he mocked, but he didn’t linger to hear your response, just stomped back to the dining room where your mother was setting up dinner.

You glanced at Frank, and he directed an affirming nod at you, giving you the strength and will to walk to the dining table with him right behind you. You exchanged greetings with your mother who was clearly tipsy at the very least, and your attempts to make conversation went unheard and unnoticed. You supposed it was a good thing — they weren’t actively picking fights with you, at least.

Frank, ever the gentleman, helped bring in all the food and the plates, with the same goal as you: keeping the peace. He wasn’t interested in befriending your family because of all the trauma they had bestowed upon you, but for your sake, he remained cordial and polite. That said, he was ready to defend you at the smallest thing.

As everyone sat down for dinner, your mother poured you a glass of liquour and you instantly felt opposed to the idea. ”Oh, I don’t really drink anymore”, you tried, and in an instant, your mother and brother exchanged looks that were judgmental as well as surprised.

”One drink won’t kill you”, your mother insisted, continuing to pour until the glass was filled to the brim. You licked your lips nervously, but unwilling to start a full-blown argument by refusing, you reached for the glass.

Frank stopped you, however. ”They don’t gotta drink anythin’ they don’t wanna”, he spoke firmly, his tone stern enough to warn everyone not to start with him. You smiled softly at him and he squeezed your thigh in response, keeping you close to him in the hopes that his warmth would ground you in the otherwise anxiety-inducing environment.

Your mother opened her mouth to retort something, but she was cut off by the radio crackling, quickly redirecting her attention. ”Must be your grandparents again”, she commented with a laugh, one you didn’t return. You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat and Frank gave your arm a comforting caress, his eyes darting between you and your family. He hated seeing you in these situations that only distressed you, and he wished there was more he could have done to help.

But he tried by gaining control of the conversation. It was a gesture you appreciated greatly, especially because you knew he was most definitely not the kind of man who participated in small-talk. He was used to sitting back and observing, but right now, you didn’t have the capacity to keep chatting and he didn’t mind taking the reins on your behalf. He kept your mother busy so that she wouldn’t have the chance to push you to drink, but your brother still jumped at the opportunity.

”You’re really not gonna drink that? God, you really have changed. Can’t even have a drink with your family anymore”, he rolled his eyes, trying his very best to guilt you into having a sip, and it almost worked. You were moments away from cracking under the pressure, but once again, Frank came to your rescue.

”We’re, uh, we’re gon’ get some fresh air. Excuse us”, Frank informed curtly, his words respectful but his tone cold, just like the look in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let you sit there as the target of their complaints anymore, and so, he helped you up from the seat and guided you outside into the refreshing air.

You exhaled heavily as you dug out a cigarette with shaky hands, and Frank ran his hand across his face in frustration. He was seething, feeling so much anger towards your family for being so pushy with you, and he was desperate to just carry you in the car and take you home right now.

”We ain’t gotta stay, baby. The way they treat you… makes me real upset for you. Just say the word and I’ll take you home, got that?” he swore, his eyes piercing yours as you inhaled the cigarette. You pondered on his offer, and you couldn’t deny that it sounded tempting — it wasn’t a good time so far, and you doubted it was getting any better with all the alcohol they were consuming nonstop.

”Yeah, I don’t really want to stay for long. Let’s just get through dinner and then we’ll go?” you suggested, and sucking in a breath, Frank bowed his head in an agreeing nod.

”Whatever you wanna do. But I ain’t lettin’ you drink when you’ve done so well without any”, he decided with a point of his finger, and with an appreciative smile curling your lips, you reached for his forearm and squeezed.

”Thank you, Frankie. This would suck a lot more without you”, you noted, and with a quiet chuckle, Frank shrugged.

”Yeah, well, I’d need a damn good reason not to be here for you. I don’t want you to deal with all this all by yourself, y’know?” he explained, stepping closer to you and winding an arm over your shoulders. He pulled you closer, and while making sure you wouldn’t get ash on him, you leaned into him and enjoyed the feeling of his firm body against yours.

”I know it sucks. It’s just… they’re my family. I’ve realized it’s not healthy for me to spend a lot of time with them but sometimes I miss them”, you admitted quietly, a little embarrassed to speak the truth, but Frank wouldn’t judge you.

He pressed a kiss into your hair, in fact. ”I hear ya. It ain’t easy to cut off the people you’ve grown up with. I’m proud of you, anyway. You’re doin’ so great, hear me?” he emphasized, wanting you to know that he admired your strength. You were the most amazing person he knew and he would never let you forget that.

”You’re so sweet”, you muttered, shy under his praise and deep stare, and he reacted with a snort.

”That’s the first time anyone’s ever said that ’bout me, sweetheart”, he declared, and it made you laugh — even if you strongly felt like he should hear it all the time.

Sighing, you put out your cigarette. ”I guess we should head back inside”, you gave in, but with a tut, Frank pulled you back from the door.

”I mean, they ain’t exactly lookin’ for us yet. We’re in no hurry, yeah? We can take a moment, just you and me”, he proposed instead, and you didn’t take much convincing, especially with his dark eyes looking so soft and caring as they bore into yours. There was a small, hopeful smile on his lips, and that was enough to reel you in.

”I’d like that”, you agreed before leaning in to kiss his cheek. ”Thanks for everything, Frank. This really means a lot”, you added, and caressing your hair, he shook his head.

”Ya gotta stop thankin’ me, darlin’. I’m just doin’ what I can to help. And treatin’ you the way you deserve, aight?” he countered, serious about being good to you. And so far, he had been successful in every way.

It was going to be a long night, but you felt encouraged with Frank by your side, and you knew you had a way out if you just told him you wanted to go. It didn’t erase all your problems with your family, but it was safe to say you had found a new one in Frank.

[opencommunion]

"The suit describes how incarcerated Alabamians are forced to work for free in prison and paid extremely low wages to work for hundreds of private employers — including meatpacking plants and fast-food franchises like McDonald’s — as well as more than 100 city, county and state agencies. And it alleges that the state keeps the scheme going by systematically denying parole to those eligible to work outside jobs. ... In the case of the government officials, they’re also accused of conspiring to increase the size of the Alabama prison population — which is predominantly Black — through the discriminatory denial of parole so the state can continue profiting from forced labor. '[Prisoners] have been entrapped in a system of ​‘convict leasing’ in which incarcerated people are forced to work, often for little or no money, for the benefit of the numerous government entities and private businesses that ​‘employ’ them,' the suit charges. In Alabama, that charge comes with ugly historical baggage. Convict leasing — a practice of forced penal labor prevalent in the post-Emancipation South (in which incarcerated men were ​'leased' to private employers) — was a massive state revenue driver. Thanks to the Black Codes, a racist program to criminalize petty offenses both real and imagined, Black people were locked up at a massively disproportionate rate to their white neighbors. Many were then sent to work on plantations to fill the labor gap left by Emancipation. ... Convict leasing was formally abolished in Alabama in 1928, but prison labor has remained a significant source of income for the state. ... According to the lawsuit, Alabama reaped a $450 million benefit from forced prison labor in 2023 alone. ... Lakiera Walker worked for Jefferson County doing roadwork for approximately two years and was paid a $2 daily wage to handle large trash removal (including a Jacuzzi). She found out that the non-incarcerated workers on her team were making $10 per hour for the same job. One day, the lawsuit alleges, Walker’s boss attempted to coerce her into unwanted sexual activity; when she refused, he wrote her up on a disciplinary offense for ​'refusing to work.' She was then sent to work unpaid in the prison’s kitchen, and when her family called the commissioner and the warden to demand something be done, no action was taken. ... During Walker’s 15-year incarceration, she held a litany of unpaid jobs throughout the prison itself, too, including in the kitchen, housekeeping and healthcare. She even provided hospice care to dying patients. ​'The nurses really weren’t interested in taking care of sickly or terminally ill people, so they would get the inmates to do it,' Walker says. She says she was regularly required to work seven days a week, and she often had to work two shifts a day. None of these prison jobs were paid, and quitting or refusing work was not a viable option. ​'You can’t say, ​‘Hey, I can’t go to work today,’' Walker explains. ​'You would go to segregation, which was solitary confinement. … People were so tired and just hopeless at that point, they would kind of welcome solitary confinement, just to have a break.'

... Walker did finally make it home after all those years of forced labor, but many others are still trapped in the system. ... By 2022, the parole rate was 11% overall and only 7% for Black prisoners — meaning that 93% of parole-requesting Black prisoners were denied. That’s what happened to Alimireo English, a charismatic 48-year-old Black man who, according to a judge, should not be in prison right now. ... But instead of being back home with his family, at church with his faith community, or visiting his eldest son in New York, English is at the Ventress Correctional Facility in Clayton, Ala. His case did not come before the parole board until November 28, 2023, more than two years after he’d already been acquitted, but he was denied anyway. His next parole date is November 2024. 'They gotta keep me for another year until they can find somebody else on the street that they can pull back in and take my place,' English tells me. ​'If they can’t replace you, they don’t let you go.'

... English works as a dorm representative for the facility’s Faith Dorm, where he is on call 24 hours a day, seven days per week. He is responsible for the safety and well-being of 190 incarcerated men, many of them elderly or medically vulnerable. He handles custodial duties and maintenance, screens dorm visitors and is also the first responder for drug and health emergencies. In his scant free time, he runs a therapy and counseling group for his fellow prisoners. He consistently works 12 to 15 hour days and, for most of the week, he is the sole individual in charge of the dorm; a retired prison chaplain comes in to assist him a few times weekly, but otherwise English is not supervised by any corrections personnel. As the lawsuit highlights, ​'Since Mr. English has been in this position, the Faith Dorm has had no fights, deaths, or overdoses.' The plaintiffs’ legal team estimates that ADOC saves roughly $200,000 a year by not having a corrections officer in that one dorm. Meanwhile, English is paid nothing. ​'The inmates basically run the prison, but the officers are getting compensated for it,' English says. ​'The wages the inmates are paid for their work hasn’t changed since 1927.'

Several of the plaintiffs I spoke to also mentioned ​'institutional need,' a specific designation that plaintiffs have reported is added to certain prisoners’ files to signify their utility to their current facility. According to Walker and her lawyer, institutional need is yet another trick used by the ADOC to keep especially useful incarcerated workers from leaving, so the state can continue benefiting from that person’s skills. ... 'Most people, it stops them from going home or making parole because it says that we need you more in prison than the world needs you in society,' Walker explains. ​'This lady, her name is Lisa Smith, she’s been in prison about 30 years, and every time she comes up for parole, regardless of her crime, she’s an institutional need. She can fix anything in the prison — she can probably build a prison — but she’s not getting paid. Sometimes they won’t even call in a free world contractor because she knows what to do. It’s looking bleak that she will ever make it out of prison, because they need her there.'

... Because of a 1977 Supreme Court decision, incarcerated workers in the United States — including those in ADOC’s work release program — are legally prohibited from unionizing. The Supreme Court decision barring incarcerated workers from unionizing has not stopped organizations like the Industrial Workers of the World’s Incarcerated Workers Organizing Committee, Jailhouse Lawyers Speak and the Free Alabama Movement (FAM) from organizing labor actions, strikes and protests against prison slavery, or individual prisoners from finding their own ways to dissent. ... One of the founders of FAM, Kinetik Justice, is a plaintiff in the Alabama lawsuit. He has helped organize and lead several high-profile nationwide prison strikes since 2016. He’s been in ADOC custody for the past 29 years, and he has been repeatedly punished, harassed and tortured for his work organizing against forced labor. According to The Appeal, he spent 54 months in solitary confinement between 2014 and 2018 and has been repeatedly sent back into the hole. As he told Democracy Now! in 2016, ​'We understood our incarceration was pretty much about our labor and the money that was being generated from the prison system, therefore we began organizing around our labor and used it as a means and a method to bring about reform in the Alabama prison system.' He is no stranger to filing lawsuits on his own and his fellow prisoners’ behalf against ADOC, so it is fitting that this landmark class action suit bears his name."

[readychilledwine]

Little Bat, Big Dreams

A/N- *tv static noise and announcer voice* we now interrupt your regularly scheduled smut for an adorable Nyx piece to satisfy Readychilledwine's pregnant brain. I present to you all a Kaylee (the previously introduced archeron oc) and toddler Nyx piece. Hopefully, you all enjoy this little family dinner piece as much as my brain enjoyed writing it, and hopefully, it helps ease any ill feelings on if Kaylee is okay at the end of Bound by Fate. 💜 Happy 5th day of "Here's to 100"

Summary - Of the four Archeron sisters, Kaylee had always had the easiest time with children due to her work in the healing house. Now, those skills are being tested by her own nephew as he takes on his worst known enemy, vegetables.

Warnings - food aversion, food allergy reactions are briefly mentioned but not described (no use of the phrase "water bowels" here, sorry Sarah.)

Feyre and Kaylee shared a look as Nyx pouted about the vegetables his family was trying to force him to eat. This was the third attempt today in making the little heir eat a well-rounded meal. This time, they had tried drowning the vegetables in cheese and withholding any other food until he ate those first.

Kaylee sighed, finally breaking the tense silence at the table, "So, you don't like veggies ooooorrr?"

Rhysand chuckled as Nyx looked up at his favorite aunt. His little blue eyes were soft with admiration for her despite Azriel's joking, yet not, warnings that she was spoken for. Her perfectly arched brow was raised at her nephew. "They're gross," he answered softly. "I hate them."

"Hate is a strong word," Nesta said from next to the boy. "It requires previous emotions like love." She wiggled her shoulder at Nyx, causing him to start dramatically gagging at the idea of romance and adult feelings.

"Auntie Kay-Kay isn't eating vegetables. If she doesn't have to. I don't neither." All heads at the table turned to her as she and Feyre made eye contact.

Before becoming fae, Kaylee had always had issues eating dairy products. Cheese, ice creams, chocolates, and milk had all tended to make her very sick. She had not bothered trying to eat them after being made. Not worth the risk, she had told Rhysand quietly one night as she explained what happened to her.

She held her plate silently to her mate, and Azriel tugged the bond gently. Are you sure? Rhysand came into her mind softly. I really appreciate you doing this, but you do not have to.

The youngest Archeron continued her stare off as Azriel put a small serving of the vegetables on her plate. I'm sure. Just buy me something pretty if this makes me sick in return. Rhysand chuckled softly as the toddler and his aunt both leaned forward, maintaining eye contact.

"Oh shit, it's getting serious," Cassian leaned back in his chair, tapping Lucien's shoulder to get the other male's attention. The Autumn male and Elain instantly looked over, laughing at the two youngest beings at the table.

"If I eat all of these, you have to eat all of yours. Once you eat all of yours, Uncle Az will take you flying today and go to the bakery we all love with you. If you don't finish them, though, he's taking me instead. Deal?"

They all watched as Nyx weighed his options. The gross vegetables covered in his favorite cheese, or not getting to fly with Uncle Az and losing out on the oh so famous triple chocolate fudge brownies the bakery had, "Deal." Kaylee and Nyx maintained eye contact as they picked up the first bite. A silent game took place between the little bat and the auntie.

Nyx put the cheesy greens in his mouth at the same time as her, eyes going wide as he chewed. He broke the game, looking down at his plate in wonder before picking up a bigger bite and eating it. And then another and another. Kaylee shook her head, looking at Feyre and Rhysand, Works every time. She kept her end of the deal, eating her serving of veggies as Rhys and Azriel watched with concern.

Nyx finished his first, smiling at his empty plate. "Not bad, huh?" She smiled at him as he held his hand out for her fork. "Evidently not." She handed Nyx her fork, allowing him the last bite of cheese and broccoli, and watched him with a soft smile. "Was it as gross as you thought, little bat?"

The Illyrians chuckled at the nickname as Nyx shook his head. "They were yummy." Kaylee nodded. "Why weren't you going to eat them if you knew they were yummy?"

"You remember how mommy and your aunties were made and not born fae, right?" Nyx nodded at her. "When I was human, milk made me really sick, and I haven't tried to eat it since."

Nyx looked up at her, his eyes wide as his lower lip began to tremble. "So, you'll get sick because of me?"

Kaylee chuckled softly. "No, buddy, if I get sick, I'm going to get sick because of the cheese. Not because of you. You needed encouragement because you were scared, right?"

Nyx nodded. "They're just gross looking. Like little mutant trees."

"But now you like them? So we never have to do that again?" The Little bat nodded at his smiling aunt. "Then, if i feel icky later, me having an unhappy tummy for a few hours is worth every second since you'll eat your vegetables now and grow big and strong."

"Like Uncle Cassie?!"

Kaylee nodded as Azriel's hand found hers under the table. "Exactly like Uncle Cassie."

Nyx held his plate out to Azriel who took it with a smile, adding another serving of veggies to his plate and setting it back down in front of him. "I'm going to beat up Uncle Cassian some day," Nyx began to eat his second serving of vegetables with determination, his eyes glancing towards Cassian with a slight glare every so often.

Wonderful. Any ideas on how to get him to eat meat other than chicken strips? Rhysand smiled.

I have a few. Kaylee leaned her head on Azriel's shoulder. The two mates were silently communicating. Kaylee's bright blue eyes flickered towards Cassian, cutting his steak and then back to Nyx. She rose both of her brows at Azriel quickly, and the male discretely nodded. Rhysand smiled lightly, shaking his head. The two of them had quickly developed their own language, and it was something the High Lord both envied and adored for his brother.

They all were now watching as Nyx and Cassian had a stare off. Cassian continued to eat his steak with a small smirk. He knew his nephew was still sad over the small battle the two of them had just hours ago. "You know Nyx," Azriel started slowly. "Part of why Uncle Cass is so big is due to him eating a variety of food. Different foods help our bodies with different things. That steak he's eating helps his muscles stay big and strong. Maybe we should try that sometime too, huh?"

Nyx glared at Cassian. The goal of beating him in a fight someday was the only thing driving him after losing in their wooden sword fight, and Azriel knew that. Cassian rose his brows in challenge, staring at Nyx as he took another bite of his steak. Nyx glared harder before turning to his father, "Cut me a steak, daddy."

[wisteriadaydreams]

Hello! Hope you’re doing well!

I absolutely loved your Tanjiro x Haganezuka’s daughter piece! It was just too cute!

May I request one with Tanjiro x Urokodaki’s daughter? She’d probably be really strong and train with Tanjiro, finally convincing her dad to let her become a Slayer, only to get lectured after accidentally falling on top of him or something because Urokodaki can just smell the puppy love brewing between the both of them!

Sorry, got a little carried away! 💗 Tanjiro is just too cute!

I’m most likely going to come back here, so if it’s alright, I’d love to be your 🌺 Anon! Sending lots of love and good vibes your way!

TANJIRŌ W/ UROKODAKI’S DAUGHTER!READER

pairing: Kamado Tanjirō x fem!reader

genre: angst in the beginning, mention of canonical character death, fluff later on

Words: 7.5k (buckle up ppl, it's a long one)

a/n: I was so excited when I first read this ask! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to it! And yes, you can 100% be 🌺anon (≧▽≦)

Urokodaki and his wife have had a hard time conceiving, and as they grew older, they resigned themselves to accepting that they will not have a child of their own, no matter how much it pained them.

In a way, they had tried to fill the void by adopting and taking in orphaned children, but that doesn’t mean they don’t come to love them any less. Some of them eventually leave to forge their own lives when they become adults, while some decided to follow in Urokodaki’s footsteps and become a Demon Slayer.

Knowing the dangerous nature of the job, he vehemently denied the request, but after seeing the relentlessness and determined nature of his child, he finally relented. When it came time to send his first student off to the Final Selection, he and his wife did so with a heavy heart.

When their child never came home no matter how long they wait, they buried their memories and a piece of their heart at Mount Sagiri.

(Urokodaki would refuse to train anyone else for years to come, but there are always those who managed to convince him otherwise.)

Nevertheless, his household is one that always ring with laughter and joy, a household that sticks together through the hard times, holding each other close and wiping away each other’s tears.

So when you came to this world, it was to a home overflowing with love.

You were their miracle baby, a blessing from the gods, the light that makes their world brighter. When the news was announced, there was not one dry eye in the house. Suddenly, everyone became even more overprotective of your mother when she was pregnant with you, and she had to scold her husband and her children several times for coddling her.

When you came into this world, your brothers and sisters take turns holding you, cooing and feeling their hearts bursting from the sight of your smile.

You grew up in a world like that — protected and loved and never lonely.

They would sneak you sweets and gifts they got from the nearby town, and sometimes those training would let you hold their swords for a moment, at the expense of being reprimanded by Urokodaki.  You were spoiled beyond compare.

When your mother was taken by a swift but deadly illness while you were still too young to register death, your family did what they always do — mourn in each other’s arms, and slowly piece everyone back together.

If possible, your father became even more protective of you. He has lost too much. His comrades, his friends, his wife, his students and children. It would break him entirely to lose you, too.

You grew up in a home that protected and love you, but also a home that grieves for the lost souls that will never be able to find their way back. Over the years, you’ve watched all of your father’s apprentices leave the safe embrace of Mt. Sagiri, a sword by their hip, a fox mask by the side of their face, and hope shining in their eyes.

“Otou-san.” You tugged your father’s sleeve. “Where are they going?”

“To hopefully make the world a better place.” “When are they coming back?” “Soon, my daughter. I pray every day that it would be soon.”

Many of them promised you that they will come back and play with you. Many of them broke their promises.

One year, your father rescued two boys, Sabito and Giyū, whose families were both eaten by demons. You immediately took to them, constantly trailing behind them and jumping onto their backs. They in turn dote on you, keeping you company whenever they weren’t training. You would sit on the ground to watch them spar with your father, twirling the grass under your fingers and giggling when they were swiftly disarmed.

You didn’t really understand why they were training. You had an inkling of the demons beyond the safe vicinity of the mountain from the stories your other siblings would tell you, but other than that you couldn’t grasp why they were serious about it.

“Sabito-nii, why are you and Giyū-nii training with father?” You asked him one day.

“Because there’s dangerous creatures out there who would stop at nothing to kill humans, and there are only a select few who could deal with them.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, (Y/N)-chan, maybe that’s just the way of the world. We’re no matched for the strength of demons, so we must become stronger.” “But why you and Giyū-nii?”

He patted your head softly, a tender but sad look in his eyes. “So that no one would have to go through what we went through.”

Their training continued, progressing from proper breathing lessons to when their blades are suddenly embraced by foamy, cerulean blue waves that twist around one another. Your eyes would shine with delight whenever you catch their fluid movements.

The day comes when both of your brothers have to leave, just like all the other apprentices before them. Your heart sank to the pits of your stomach the night before, making you unable to sleep even a wink. What if they don’t return as well?

The next morning, you stubbornly cling to them, refusing to let go even when your father scolds you.

“But I don’t want you to go!” You exclaimed.

“Come one, (Y/N)-chan. It’ll only be for a little while. Sabito and I will be back before you know it.”

“Promise?” “Promise.”

About a week went by without any sign of them returning, and you’ve never felt so on edge. You started to stand outside diligently to hopefully catch a glimpse that peach shade of Sabito’s hair and the deep blue of Giyū’s eyes, only coming inside when your father urged you.

Finally, one misty morning, you were out pulling weeds in the garden when you spotted a head of thick jet-black hair from up the road. Your eyes widened when you saw the familiar figure trudging down towards the house.

“Otou-san!” You shouted as you ran towards him. “Giyū-nii is home!!!”

You resisted the urge to tackle him into a hug once you saw his fatigued and wounded state. Nevertheless, your heart soared in happiness.

“Giyū-nii! You’re back! Are you hurt anywhere?” Your eyes roam over him, wincing at the amount of dirt on his clothes. But your brother was unresponsive and dazed, even when your father put a hand on his shoulder. Something itched in the back of your mind, and your stomach twisted unexpectedly when you felt like something was not right.

“Giyū-nii,” you began slowly, your eyes darting all over the place. “Where is Sabito-nii?”

His silence was answer enough.

Nothing was ever the same after that. You’re no stranger to lost, but it didn’t stop your heart from cleaving into two and the tears from running down your face at night. Not when a piece of you seems to die every time you’re met with your father’s silent grieving, or heard the sobs from your brother that he so desperately tried to hide.

You were both just children grasping with death.

When it was time for him to leave and officially embark on his journey, it was pouring like they had never seen before. Perhaps that was best. Perhaps then none of them would notice the tears.

Your home became quieter. Still filled with love, but more somber somehow. Laughter came a little harder for you, and each time you watch the sunset, you can’t help but feel your shoulders become heavier, as if the twilight was a corporeal thing that weighed down on you.

For a while, it was only you, your father, and the silence. But that all changed when a little girl around your age stumbled into your lives.

Like many siblings before, Makomo came to your home unexpectedly, and yet it also felt like fate. She lit up the whole house with her gentle smiles and brightness, restoring some of the warmth that have been lost.

You take to her immediately, spending your days braiding flowers into each other’s hair and running through the mountains until you can draw a map with your eyes closed. You felt your soul healing in the presence of her calming demeanor. She became a sister that you could unconditionally trust to always have your back. Imagine your horror when she too was determined to walk down the same treacherous path.

“Makomo-chan! You can’t!” You tearfully protested. “It’s too dangerous!”

‘What if she doesn’t come back?’ The sentence replayed over and over in your head like a broken mantra, and you were once more squeezed by multiple stabs of fear and anxiety. Your father shared the same sentiments as you, and firmly denied her request.

How could he forgive himself if he let someone as young as her entrench herself into such a cruel world.

But Makomo was resilient and stubborn. She would sneak out and practice with a sword and had even somehow been able to grasp the basics of Total Concentration Breathing. When asked, she only smiled mysteriously and told you that she had some help.

When your father saw that his warnings fell on deaf ears and after seeing how much she improved, he finally caved in and took her as his apprentice.

To say that you were unhappy with the decision would be an understatement. You watched her train and become more graceful and quick on her feet, dread pooling in your stomach with every progress and injuryYou and your father hugged her and sent her on her way, and it felt like goodbye. You prayed to any gods that were willing to listen to protect her and bring her back to you.

You stayed by her side, occasionally offering her tips from what you’ve observed from the other students. You bandaged every single wound, lightly chastising her and telling her to be more careful next time. Her only response was to smile and thank you. The more you did this, the more you couldn’t help but wonder about her willingness to put herself on the line to help fight demons, and whether if there’s anything more that you could do.

As you had expected, she passed your father’s final trial. That night, you sleep in the same bed as Makomo, putting your arms around her and pulling her so close that it was difficult to tell where you end and where she began. You didn’t want to let go.

You and your father hugged her and sent her on her way, and it felt like goodbye. You prayed to any gods that were willing to listen to protect her and bring her back to you.

The gods too, did not answer them.

The pain coursed through your body like a beast made of liquid fire, clawing at your insides and erupting from your throat as you cried in your father’s arms. You cried until you became numb, until every muscle in your body feels like it had been crushed by the weight of your grief. Her grave was marked alongside the others. Wherever she was, she held a piece of your soul with her.

It was you, your father, and the silence, once more.

One afternoon, you return from working in the garden to see your father reading a letter, Giyū’s crow perch on his shoulder. Your spirit lifts momentarily, relieved that he is still doing well.

It’s hard to read your father due to the mask he wears, but from the way he grips the paper tightly and crinkling it, it can’t be good news.

“Otou-san, what is it?”

He lifts his head to look at you, then fold the letter and tucking it into his kimono before going back inside. “I need to go for a bit, (Y/N). Stay here, and prepare for some visitors.”

You only manage to blink a few times before he’s out the door again. Even at his age, he is still as fast as a Demon Slayer at their prime. As you prepare the ingredients for dinner, you wonder who the visitor could be.

You get your answer later that day, when your father comes back with a young boy in tow. Your father looked like he didn’t even break a sweat, but the boy trailing behind him seemed as if though he’s fighting for every breath. With a basket strap to his back, you can understand why that’s the case.

“Otou-san, who is this?” “This is Kamado Tanjirō. He’ll be staying with us for the night,” he says simply. “This is my daughter, (Y/N).”

You bow in greeting as he walks through the door. You watch in curiosity as he unwraps the basket, unveiling a sleeping girl tucked inside.

You would have reacted in horror if not for the fact that your father is being so calm about it, but it doesn’t stop you from wondering what’s going on.

“This is my sister, Nezuko. She’s…um…” Tanjirō looks to your father, asking for help.

“We’ll take care of her,” your father says. You quickly catch on and run inside to fetch a pillow and blanket, temporarily laying her on the ground until you can arrange a futon for her. “But for now, you and I will be climbing the mountain.”

With those words, it dawns on you. Here’s another person hoping to become your father’s student and become a Demon Slayer. All of his prospects go through the same process, and climbing the mountain is only the beginning of the trials they will face.

When your father returns, he fills you in on the situation. Your heart drops in sympathy when you hear that their family was killed by demons, and flinch when it’s revealed that the girl sleeping so peacefully near the crackling hearth is a demon.

“Otou-san, how can this be? She seems nothing like the demons you would tell me about.” “You feel it too,don’t you (Y/N)? She’s different from any demon I’ve encountered before. It’s like she’s still human somewhere in that body of hers.”

You look back down at Nezuko. It’s difficult to reconcile the image of blood-thirsty demons that has been instilled into you since childhood. Those that pillaged villages and killed without mercy. Those that…

You clench your hands into fists. It’s definitely difficult, and if both your father and Giyū are willing to put their trust into her, then you can try as well.

The first threads of dawn are beginning to slip through the horizon, and Tanjirō has yet to return from the mountain. You fidget in your seat, your eyes flickering every few minutes to the door, ears train to see if you can pick up the sound of any footsteps. You’re torn between wanting to see him succeed and fail. If he does, then you’re afraid that he’ll become another lamb on its way to slaughter. But if he doesn’t, then which other path can he walk on to restore his sister’s humanity?

In the midst of battling with yourself, your ears perk up at the sound of heavy footsteps. You whip your head to the door the same time your father does, and a second later it slams open to reveal a dirtied and injured Tanjirō, blood flowing from his head and shoulder.

“I’m…back…” He pants and is only able to utter before he collapses by the door frame. You rush to his side, preparing to carry him inside and treat his wounds. You look to your father, who stands stoic and in silent contemplation. You know that he has made his decision.

Every early morning, even before the sun rises, your father and Tanjirō would make their way up the mountain to begin their training. You would look after the still slumbering Nezuko, and then bring lunch to wherever they are. After having lunch with them, you would stay for a while to watch them train. In the evenings, you would take care of any injuries Tanjirō incurred throughout the day.

Your talks with him are often short, something to fill in the silence while you bandage him up. You’re grateful that he isn’t the type to pry, and instead is content with letting the conversation flow wherever it may. Your heart is still healing, and you’ve yet to recover the strength to open those scars again.

But the more time you spend around him, the more you realize that it’s terrifyingly easy to put your guard down around him. It’s like he has a soothing and warming aura radiating from him, causing you to unable to resist melting in his presence. It feels both familiar and so wildly foreign to you, that at times you’re unsure how to act around him.

Your father is harsher on Tanjirō than with any of his other students, and you can understand why. His improvement is gradual, and it’s clear that he doesn’t have the raw talent that Sabito and Makomo had. But what he lacked in talent, he made it up with determination.

Even on what is supposed to be his rest days, he would be out swinging his sword and working on his breathing. During those times, you would make sure that he’s eating and not neglecting yourself.

“You’re thinking too hard about it,” you say as you watch him try to master Total Concentration Breathing. “You have to be more subtle about it. Here, close your eyes.” You stand up and approach him. “Try to imagine the air as water. Let it enter you.” You close your eyes and breathe along with him. “Imagine it moving through every part of you.” You trail your fingers down his arms. “Feel it in every cell and vein, feel it touch you and flow around you. See the difference?”

“I-I think so.” You open your eyes to smile, and that’s when you realized that his hands are now clasped tightly in yours, and the distance between you two is too close for comfort.

You drop his hands like they’re hot coals, a blush quickly rising to your cheeks. “Sorry!”

“N-no, it’s okay.” As opposed to your worryingly flaming face, his cheeks only had a tinge of pink. “But thank you, (Y/N)-san! I understand now.”

“It’s-it’s nothing. Just something I picked up while watching others train.” “Just from watching? That’s amazing! I’m surprised you’re not training already. You would leave me in the dust.”

“…You think so?” “I know so. Just last week you helped me with my stance and how to properly swing my sword. And you seem to already know how to do Total Concentration Breathing.” He pauses and begins his next sentence tentatively. “Sorry if this is rude of me, but I’m just wondering why you haven’t become Urokodaki-san’s student yet.”

You tilt your head, giving thought to his question. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I guess it’s partly because I know how it feels to be the person on the other side. I don’t think I could bear putting my father through having to worry about me like that. But at the same time, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it before. I don’t know though…”

Can you do it? Can you actually take up a sword and leave everything behind? Knowing that you're risking everything and never come back?

But…maybe then you can go and explore beyond the mountain. Maybe you can help other families sleep better at night. Children won’t have to look behind their back in fear of things creeping in the dark. No one would have to go through what you went through.

“Well, whatever you decide.” Tanjirō pats your shoulder reassuringly. “I believe it’ll be the right decision.”

“No.”

You’ve expected this response from your father, but it didn’t cause you to flinch any less. “But otou-san–”

“No means no, (Y/N). I will not allow you to become a Demon Slayer.” “But I’ve been watching you teach for years! I know how to do Total Concentration Breathing, and I basically know all the stances by heart. If only you would let me try, then I know I can master them!” “And you know perfectly well how dangerous is it.”

“Of course I know!” You can’t help but raise your voice a little. “And how many more have to lose their lives? I’m sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing, waiting for the next bad news. I want to do something to help!” “And you’re already doing that by staying here and being safe.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be coddled and safe anymore!” Your chest heaves and you turn around, unable to bear looking at his masked face any longer. “I just wish you would believe in your daughter a little more.” With that, you walk out the door, ignoring the words of your father.

Your legs take you to the huge frothing waterfall a distance away from your house, a favorite place of yours when you want some peace and quiet. It’s just you and the sound of rushing water to drown out your thoughts. Or so you thought.

“(Y/N)-san.” Your soul nearly left your body. You wildly turn around to see that Tanjirō had followed you.

“Tanjirō-san! You scared me to death! How did you even find me?” He taps his nose and that’s all you needed to know. “…Right. Well, you’re welcome to sit next to me, since you’re here already.”

He takes your invitation. “I just want to know how you’re doing.” You hug your knees to your chest and sigh. “Thanks. Sorry you had to hear that, by the way. I understand where my father’s coming from, I really do. But at the same time, I can’t help but think he thinks I’m not enough in his eyes, like I’m still a baby that needs to be cocooned. But I’ve been by the sidelines for so long, always watching and worrying and feeling useless. If I have the ability to, I should stand up and do something. Shouldn’t I?”

“Hey.” Tanjirō places a warm hand on your shoulder. “You’re not useless. You take care of the whole household. You cook for us and remind us to take a break. You give me advice, encouragement, and always take care of me when I get injured. I think you’re already incredible as you are. But if you believe you can do something more, then I say go for it! I’ll support you!”

“Really?” You ask, eyes wide in wonder at his words. He nods, and you know it to be true. You feel your fingertips become tingly, and all the water in this world could not wash away the bubble of warmth in your body. “Thank you.”

You scoot a little closer to him, content to be in his presence. Nothing needed to be said that isn’t already felt in the blank spaces of your words.

When you return, your father is waiting for you, his arms crossed. You gulp, knowing that you’re in big trouble, but you stand your ground anyways.

“Tanjirō, go inside. I need to speak to my daughter privately.” “Yes, Urokodaki-san.” He gives you an encouraging look and heads inside, leaving you and your father alone. The tension is so thick you can cut through it with a sword, and your foot fidgets in anticipation of who will be speaking first.

“I made a promise to your mother,” your father begins, and that makes everything you’re going to say go back down your throat. “That I would keep you safe, and make sure no harm comes to you.”

You hang your head, that familiar wisp of sadness creeping up on you. Over the years, you’ve heard many stories about your mother, wanting to know everything about her to fill in the gaps of your memories, selfishly clinging to the last vestiges of her presence that you can remember.

“But I’ve also made another promise to her, that I’ll always make you happy,” he continues. “And if this is truly the path you want to take, then I’ll fulfill your wish.” You whip your head up at his words, surprise overtaking your face. “But just because you’re my daughter doesn’t mean I'll go easy on you, do you understand? If at any point I deem you not suitable, I’ll pull you from training.”

“Yes, otou-san!” “Good, then be up by 4 am tomorrow.”

If he’s already hard on Tanjirō, then he’s hard on you 10 times over. If Tanjirō has to swing his sword 1000 times, you have to do it 2000 times. If he only has to descend the mountain 2 times, you have to do it 5 times. If he has to stay under the waterfall for 5 minutes, you have to do it for 15. But you take it all in stride, finally being able to find an outlet for your pent up energy over the years.

You and Tanjirō becomes closer due to this, bonding over your shared misfortune of being tortured mentored by the former Water Hashira. One some days you would spar with him, eager to see how much you’ve improved.

Today, you’ve managed to disarm him and goes through the motion to pin him to the ground, but a miscalculation quickly cause you to lose your balance. Before you know it, you let out a yelp and is dragged to the ground with him. You brace for impact, but your fall is broken by a soft weight below you. That weight being of course no one else but your sparring partner.

You open your eyes and is mortified to see Tanjirō staring back at you, your noses almost touching one another. From this proximity, you’re able to see the closer the soft gradient of his dark maroon eyes, like embers blazing in the hearth. Your body is pressed against his, his arms settled lightly at your waist no doubt to soften your fall. Your eyes unconsciously travel down to his lips for a brief moment, but enough for you to begin scolding yourself incessantly for the intrusive thought that runs through your mind.

“Kamado Tanjirō!” Your father’s voice booms through the field. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You and him immediately scramble away from one another, faces so red that even a ripe tomato would be jealous. Your father stares down at the both of you, the silence even more unbearable with the menacing aura radiating from him.

“1000 sword swings from you, Tanjirō. And you, (Y/N), I’m going to properly teach you how to stay on your feet.”

You both shiver, the calm way he said it making it sound even more cold to your ears. “Y-yes sir.”

6 months go by, and Nezuko have yet to wake up. Even when the doctor assures that there’s nothing wrong with her, you still can’t help but worry about her. 6 months go by, and your father declare that he has nothing more to teach you.

You and Tanjirō look at each other with surprise. While you know what’s coming next, you’re astonished when instead of leading you up to the mountain towards a boulder like Tanjirō, your father leads you to the waterfall where you’ve spent countless days training.

You look to your father for answers, but he is quiet against the mighty rush of the water.

“This will be your final task. With your sword, part this waterfall in half. Do this, and I will allow you to attend the Final Selection.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at what he said. Water in its essence is fluid and flexible, capable of taking any shape or form. It flows wherever it wants, unyielding to the obstacles in its way. How could you hope to conquer it with your blade?

“Otou-san! But–” “Prove yourself to me, my daughter.” With that, he turns around and leave without another word, no matter how many times you shout and urge him.

True to his words, he did not teach you or give you any more explanation. The first time you attempt to do what he wanted, all you got back was a mouthful of foamy water. You’re hit with the realization of how much you still have to learn. For the first 6 months, you devote yourself to honing your knowledge and fortifying your previous training. You work until you feel your arms fall off every night, until all the breathing forms are engraved into your very bones. And still, you make no progress.

There are days when you feel worthless, and the last thing you want to do is hold a sword. During those times, you resign yourself to sit by the river, skipping stones and filling your mind with questions and memories. You wonder how Tanjirō’s doing. Has he made any progress with the boulder yet? You can’t help but miss him. You’ve only realized how much time you spend with him once you’re apart. You miss having him there to encourage you when the training becomes too much, miss laughing whenever both of you would end up on the ground, tired beyond belief. Miss eating meals with him and sharing happier stories about your childhood. Miss tucking him into bed and sitting by him in this very spot even on nights when you’re both yawning.

Your father has forbidden you to go see him to allow both of you to focus on your task, but what’s the harm in one little peek? You know the way by heart, and soon you arrive at that familiar clearing. As you’ve expected, he’s already hard at work, but the person he’s fighting makes your blood turn cold.

You would recognize that peach shade anywhere. You see it every day in the sunset. You open your mouth, but no words leave them. You’re frozen, unable to do anything but watch as Tanjirō and your (dead) brother encircle each other. Blood rushes to your head and you feel like you might faint. Your vision becomes blurry, the dance of their swords become streaks of light. You brace against a tree, and out of the corner of your eyes you see another sight that makes your world tumble and your heart to lurch into your throat.

“...Ma...komo?”

Her smile is as gentle as you remember it. Everything about her is just as you remember it, like a pristine memory come to life. She nods at you and gestures for you to follow her deeper into the woods. Against all reason (of which you have none at this moment), you follow her drowsily. This has to be a dream. You’ve hit your head while making your ascent and now you’re dreaming. This has to be the only reason.

But then she leads to a spot so familiar to the both of you, and for the first time since you’ve seen her you have to wonder if you’re not actually hallucinating. She turns, and her voice is just as you remember it. “Hi, (Y/N)-chan.”

Gods, you feel like throwing up.

“Makomo...how...? How?” You’re only able to mutter. She sits you down and explain everything, about how she’s tied to this mountain, and how countless students before her have also found their way back here.

“So the person who helped train you...” “Was Sabito, yes.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted to, I really did. But Sabito wanted me to focus on my training. And...he didn’t want to stop you and Urokodaki-san from moving on.”

You twist your hands into the grass, sorrow coiling tightly around your stomach. “So...I’m guessing that Sabito-nii is helping Tanjirō grow stronger.” “He is. Tanjirō has a lot of potential, he just has to learn how to unlock it. As do you. We’re all so happy when you began training, you know. You’ve become so strong.” “But not strong enough to finish my father’s trial.”

Makomo sits pensively. “Maybe you’re approaching it the wrong way. Remember what Urokodaki-san told us when we were learning the forms?” “Become one with the water. Do not resist its flow. Embrace it, and it will answer your call.” “I think that’s something to think about.”

You let her words sink into you. “Okay, I’ll give it some thought.” Makomo stands up. “It’s time for me to go back. But (Y/N)-chan, I must ask you a favor. Can you keep the truth from Tanjirō? We don’t want him to be distracted from his progress.”

“But can I see you again?” She shakes her head. “No, (Y/N)-chan. You must also focus on your own self. But know this. We are all watching you, and we will always be by your side.” “...Then this is goodbye.” “Only for now, we will meet again.”

“Tell Sabito-nii I still think of him. That every time I make mushroom nabe I would still remember him, and that there will be a day when I watch the sunset and feel happy.” “I will.” “Goodbye, dear sister.”

A few more months pass, and despite Makomo’s advice, you have still yet to put her words to good use, no matter how much you’ve tried. But you can’t give up now, not when you know you have everyone’s trust in you. 

It is near the hour of twilight, and you’re sitting on a rock underneath the waterfall, letting the waves pour down on you. Your eyes are closed, and all the sounds of the world are lost on you. You tune out the sensations of your body, your heart, your mind, every muscle and vein, until they’re nothing but water. You slowly rise to your feet and lift your sword, but instead of resisting, you succumb to the weight. You let it guide you, trusting it to show you the way. It answers your call. You swing.

You open your eyes, and your jaw drops. The current of the waterfall is perfectly split into two, the resulting drops of water flying from your blade like bejeweled dew against a backdrop of pink that extends its darkening arms toward the golden sunset. Entranced by the sight, you only notice your father and Tanjirō when they’re by your side. Tanjirō’s eyes are as wide with wonder as yours, while your father is hard to read as ever. 

“I had no intention of sending you or Tanjirō to the Final Selection,” he finally says. “I could not bear to lose any more of my students, nor can I bear to lose my only daughter. But you’ve surpassed all of my expectations. Perhaps it’s time for me to realize you’re not that same little girl who would cling to me anymore.”  He takes you into his arms, and no matter what he says, you’ll always feel like a little girl when you hug him. “You’ve become so strong, my daughter.”

That night, you’re barely able to sleep, and even though you should be sick of the waterfall at this point, you can’t help but sneak out to it one more time. It’s not long until you hear a pair of familiar footsteps joining you.

“Hey Tanjirō-kun. Can’t sleep?” “Yeah, I can’t help but feel anxious about tomorrow.” “Me too. Congratulations on completing father’s final challenge, by the way.” “That’s nothing compared to you. You were incredible! How did you do that?” You blush at the compliment. “I had some help.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, the action as normal as breathing. “What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together.” You nod. “Together."

What makes Tanjirō so different to you? Why do you feel so drawn to him? Why does your heart sing when he is near? When did your eyes come to search for him, and why do you crave for these moments like they’re the air that you need to breathe? In the back of your mind, you think you have the answer, but you’ll have all the time in the world to decipher it.

You lift your head and stand up, extending your hand to him. “Come on, let’s go back.”

He slides his hand into yours, and it feels right.

The next morning, you and him are all packed and prepared. You never thought you would be the one on the other side, a sword by your hip and your father’s fox mask by the side of your face, saying a bittersweet goodbye to him.

Just before you two leave, Tanjirō turn back one more time, mentioning Sabito and Makomo in his farewell. You wince, and you can only imagine what your father’s reaction was.

“How come you’ve never mentioned them?” “...You’ve never asked.”

Thankfully, he didn’t pry anymore into the subject, and your journey to Mount Fujikasane is smooth. You’re amazed at the sight of the wisteria blossoms before you, so abundant that it falls like rain. You arrive at the main area, and after hearing the rules, the actual challenge begins.

You and Tanjirō agree that it would be best to head east in order to receive sunlight the quickest. Along the way, you encounter two demons, both of whom you two quickly dealt with. You watch as he prays over the disintegrating corpses, and at times like these you have to wonder how he manages to remain so kind when he has been broken by this world.

You proceed, when suddenly Tanjirō stops you in your path, holding his nose as if he smelled something foul. A scream from the darkness sends chills down your spine. The next thing you see fills you with horror. A demon far too big and monstrous to be considered befitting the level of an amateur slayer trudges through the forest, each of its heavy footsteps thrumming in your ears. Each of its limbs are veiny and as huge as your entire body, twisting and coiling around it like mangled flesh. You can barely make out where its main body is, let alone its neck.

It holds a dead man in one of its horrific hands, devouring him in one motion. Bile rises to your throat at the sight, and you feel your legs tremble and rooted deep to the ground. The demon seizes another man with its extended arm, your breath quickening when it opens its gaping mouth. Fortunately, Tanjirō recovered before you, and rush out to slice its arms with the second form of Water Breathing. You snap out of your fear only a second later, even out your breathing and sprint out to push the man behind you, your swords drawn alongside Tanjirō.

The demon becomes incensed when it spots your fox mask and rages as it curses your father’s name over and over. You listen in horror when it reveals how many humans it has eaten, but that is nothing compared to the fire burning in your blood when he says how many of your father’s students it has devoured.

Thirteen. Thirteen of your brothers and sisters. Thirteen souls that will never come home. Thirteen names that you can recite in your sleep.

The fire blazes into a vengeful inferno when you hear it describes the deaths of Sabito and Makomo with glee, as if they’re as trivial as bugs. As if there are not still those who mourn for them.

You advance with rage and with only one working thought in your mind. Kill.

The demon is even more amused at your reaction, and to your dismay no matter how many arms you and Tanjirō cut down, more would just grow back. One of them lands a hit on Tanjirō, sending him flying and hitting a tree.

“Tanjirō-kun!” You shout, your heart dropping at the blood on his forehead and his unconscious state. You’re left to fend the demon by yourself.

“Control your breathing, (Y/N)-chan. Do not worry about us, focus on saving Tanjirō.” You hear Makomo’s voice inside your head, and only then did you realize how you’ve essentially forgone every lesson your father has drilled into you. You quickly chastise yourself and regulate your breathing, standing your ground and working to divert the demon away from the unconscious boy.

“Tanjirō-kun! Wake up! Please, I need you!” You exclaim as you sliced another limb, your muscles starting to ache from how many times you’ve done so. You couldn’t severe every one of them all alone, and to your terror one of them escaped your attention and is targeting right at him. “Tanjirō!”

As if answering your prayers, he finally opens his eyes and move out the way. But you’re barely able to let out a sigh of relief before more come at you. You dodge and run to his side, your sword brandished and held tight, face-to-face with the enemy. You spare a quick glance to Tanjirō, both of you nodding.

“Together?” “Together.”

You advance, cutting down any obstacle standing in your way. At a warning shout from Tanjirō, you both leap in the air to avoid the arms underground. A limb lashes out to grab Tanjirō, but he’s able to utilizes that hard head of his. You both land on the arm, ready to execute the final attack.

“Tanjirō-kun, I’ll take care of its arms! You aim for the neck!” You carry out the Fourth Form and destroys anything blocking his path, and in a fast flurry of the First Form, it is done.

He is no more.

When there is finally time to rest and you’re done taking care of his forehead injury, you’re left to grasp with the ugly truth displayed right before your very eyes. So many lives lost, all of it fueled by hatred so deep that it makes your heart sinks. What would your father think when he realizes that a small decision of his may have led to his students’ demise?

“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth,” you whisper as you rest under the shade of a tree. Tanjirō turns away from you, and the action makes your stomach twist. He is silent for a moment before speaking. “It’s not your fault. To be honest, I had my suspicions, but I didn’t want to face them and realize that they’re true.” Another pause. “Do you think they’re at peace now?”

You grip your kimono where your heart rests. “Yeah. Yeah, I think they are.” You don’t lie about this, you feel your soul getting lighter.

“Will you tell me about them?” “Later,” you shuffle next to him, curling into his warmth as your eyes become heavy. “I promise.”

You spend your mornings like this, sleeping after a long, arduous night. Moving ever closer until you two fit like puzzle pieces, hands gripped tight in search of the other’s warmth, a confirmation that you both are still alive.

Against all odds, you both survived the 7 days.

Drained of all energy and adrenaline, the trek back home is just as taxing for your weary bodies. You support each other by lifting the other by the shoulder, praying with every step that you’ll soon see that thatched roof that you call home.

Your journey comes to an end when you see the light from that lone house near the mountain. Your shoulders sag in relief, and you would have buckled if not for Tanjirō’s arm around you. Suddenly, the door is kicked down, and out comes the girl that you’ve only ever seen in deep slumber. She looks even more beautiful under the moonlight, and you gasp at the recognition in her still human eyes.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirō rushes down to meet his sister, and at the halfway point she cradles his head into her chest, so gentle that it makes tears well up in your eyes.

You spot your father, his arms full of firewood, and a tired smile makes its way up your face. “Otou-san...”

Uncaring about the wood he just dropped by his feet, he pulls all of you (his children) close, and there is no stopping the torrent of tears from flowing down all of your cheeks.

“You’ve survived. You’ve come back to us.”

The days that followed allow you to recuperate and come to terms with what you have learned at the Final Selection. You all devote an entire day to clean and make offerings to the graves of those that are gone and spend the entire night reminiscing your memories about them.

It also allows you to bond with Nezuko, and once again you’re convicted to help Tanjirō find a way to turn her back into a human.

But those halcyon days are short-lived, and after receiving your Nichirin sword, uniform, and first joint mission, it’s finally time to leave.

("That’s a gorgeous shade of blue, huh Urokodaki?” “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”)

You stand on the other side, hugging your father and promising that no matter what, you will come back to him. This is a promise that you intend to keep. He fixes your uniforms, his fingers lingering as if he’s still not ready to let go.

“Take care of her, Tanjirō,” he says, and unexpectedly pulls him closer so that he could whisper something. You don’t know what he said, but whatever it was, Tanjirō becomes deathly pale and shivers uncontrollably. You look at them curiously, but none of them would meet your gaze.

Finally, you take your first few steps down that dirt path, sparing one final look at your world and everything you’ve ever known. But you’re not afraid, for you have Tanjirō by your side.

“We’re in this together.”

“There’s no one else I would rather do this with.”

©️ wisteriadaydreams

➺ All of the following works belong to me. Please don’t repost, copy, or steal my content off of Tumblr. Plagiarism will not be tolerated.

[maryonaccross]

Hello. I know that team Black blames the Greens over why Rhaenyra's reign as queen was awful, however even in a AU world where Viserys never re-marries and Alicent doesn't exist.

Rhaenyra would have stil been a terrible queen.

Viserys never taught Rhaenyra how to rule. He should have been raising her in preparation for a leadership role by having her in the small concil, teaching her the art of politics and what she needed to do to maintain peace in the kingdom. Whoever Rhaenyra would marry would have to agree to live in King's Landing. So. Rhaenyra could remain by her father's side and learn her role as his heir.

2. Rhaenyra never took her role seriously. She believes firmly in the divine right of kings and that she as a Targaryen is claim enough for her to take the crown, despite her knowing that her cousin Rhaenys was denied and she would have been a more effective ruler then Viserys.

3. Rhaenyra's recklessness contributes to her downfall. She does whatever she likes and doesn't care about the consequences. She heavily relies upon her father and later Daemon to bail her out then not accept any personal responsibility for her getting herself into this meses.

4. All of Rhaenyra's children are illegitimate. Her eldest by Harwin Strong even by Daemon, because her first husband isn't dead. The real reason she sequestered herself on Dragonstone was to hide her children away because she cannot handle any criticism. Her answer to it is violence. That always ends well. LOL.. looking at you Maegor.

She has isolated herself political. Not trying to expand or gain influence outside of her very limited family circle. No allies means no help when she needs it.

People in the realm may not have been thrilled with the idea of a female ruler but they would rather have Rhaenyra as queen then see Daemon as king. His violent reputation was known to all. So. What does she do? Marry the very person the realm was against and make him consort.

5. Rhaenyra's ego and her vanity was her downfall. She never thought about her position from an idealistic standpoint. What she could do to improve the country and make the people's lives better. usher in a golden age. She wanted power for power's sake.

Rhaenyra's rule was always destined to end badly but with Daemon by her side, being her enabler and corrupting her with his nature. It is no wonder centuries after her death she was still despised in the country.

To me Aegon’s “I tRy sO haRD” attitude to being the kings firstborn son is the equivalent of Rhaenyra’s “ I learned that I have to earn my inheritance” mentality towards being the named heir.

I hate what the writers did with Aegon’s character (TGC is the only saving grace) but I fundamentally disagree with the common notion that show Aegon and Rhaenyra are polar opposites of each other because they are both equally unsuited for the role of the heir and share a equally unserious attitude towards the job. (At least Aegon is able to admit he’s ill suited while Rhaenyra gaslights the shit out of herself “earned my inheritance” my ass, you did nothing.) I agree 100% with all your points, I even made posts about some of them but this sums it up perfectly. Neither Aegon or Rhaenyra are aware of the responsibilities of their position (Nyra might have been in the first few episodes but got bored pretty quickly when she realized she’d actually have to stuff and make sacrifices for the realm), they don’t form good alliances (although at least Aegon did his duty in marrying Helaena and having legitimate heirs which Rhaenyra doesn’t have a single one of) or try to endear themselves to the people they will one day rule.

The advantage Aegon has is that he has advisors around him (Otto and Alicent and most of Viserys’ small council) that have ruled the realm peacefully for years in Viserys stead while Rhaenyra’s only source of political inspiration is Nepobaby Daemon who couldn’t hold any small council position for the life of him and who firmly believes that having a dragon and “being the blood of the dragon” is all it takes to rule.

About Viserys, there’s this really interesting post that explains how Viserys tied both fractions to him by never finalizing his decision of naming Nyra heir and always keeping his decision vague.