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#Golden Rose Festival
miamia-meow · 1 year
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The Golden Rose Pop Festival in Montreux, 1986 (Well, miming again) 😏🔥😍
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ingravinoveritas · 10 months
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I’m on the Board of a film festival and last night was the opening night of this year’s festival. Always fun to put on a dress and get all fancy...
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earlgreydream · 4 months
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His. | Loki x reader smut
I finally the Loki tv show… this does NOT have any spoilers, it’s set on Asgard with a newly appointed king and his coronation gift…
cw: d/s
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“Leave any traces of fear in this room.” The command was clear, spoken sharply by a royal attendant.
Your gaze didn’t leave the fragrant water of the bath you knelt in, the attendant taking care to wash every inch of your skin. Other women pulled fluttering silks from a wardrobe, lying it out for you and finding jewelry to match. So much led to this moment, and yet it didn’t seem real — anticipation and anxiety buzzing in your head. You’d been told once already to contain the obvious fear that lingered in your chest, but the daunting task of doing so seemed impossible when your fate was waiting on a silver platter, the moment you left the private chamber you were being bathed in.
“Come, out of the water before your skin wrinkles,” you were hauled to your feet, wrapped in towels and rubbed down by several girls with movements so quick, you were barely left time to react.
Hands massaged your tense limbs, covering them in oils that bloomed with exotic scents, leaving your skin gleaming. At the same time, your hair was fixed, emeralds — his favorite — twisted into the locks and fastening to bare your neck.
“It’s customary to dress her in white,” a handmaiden spoke of you as if you were not there.
“The prince prefers black.” The will of your all-powerful god silenced any protest, everyone moving to do his bidding.
The women fretted — you had to be perfect for him. They prepared you to be presented to the god, as a divine gift to honor the crown prince of Asgard. You were bathed, decorated, and dressed, all to please the god you were gifted to, an expectation that you’d been bred for. It was a great honor to be taken from the hills, to the castle of the gods, to walk amongst the divine, even if it meant your role was to do as your master saw fit, obeying every command. You had come to terms with it, knowing that upon prince Loki’s rise to the throne, you were the sacrifice — the gift — of the kingdom, a promise of good fortune and favor granted in return.
It all seemed like a far-away, distant dream in a future that would never come. Despite that, here you were, relinquishing your whole self to Asgard’s throne. You had never met the god, and never seen him up close. Of course you’d heard the stories, the wrath and prowess of the young prince, and even seen him from a distance — but being in his presence was something entirely new, before being expected to spend the rest of time at his mercy.
Asgardian silk draped over your skin, so light you wouldn’t know it was there. Your decency was concealed beneath expensive black fabric, hiding what was only meant for Loki to see in the moments after this. The handmaidens’ fussing finally ceased, ending the long evening of preparation.
“Come with me, and do as you’re told,” the woman in charge ushered you forward, opening the chamber doors, releasing you out of known captivity into unpredictability.
You swallowed the fear in your throat, steps silent as you followed her to the throne room, the festivities growing louder as you approached your fate. Before you were given a moment to hesitate, you were led into the cavernous room of gold and heavenly magic.
All at once, it fell silent as soldiers escorted you to the throne. There he was — the god himself, draped over his golden throne. Loki was the only one adorned finer than you, a golden helm atop his onyx waves, wild cerulean eyes that bore straight into your soul.
“Your majesty, a gift in exchange for your benevolence,” the ceremony’s representative from your kingdom presented you to Loki, a hand on your shoulder forcing you to kneel before the throne.
A dangerous smile curved the god’s lips, placing his scepter aside as he rose to his feet.
“A very generous gift indeed,” Loki’s lyrical voice wrapped around your throat, stealing the air from your lungs.
He was impossibly tall and lean as he approached you, toned muscles visible even through the heavy layers of leather and gold that adorned his figure. Loki was no mere prince, but a god of mischief, holding an entire world in the palm of his delicate hand. A dark mischief glittered in his eyes, the gorgeous royal leaning down to look closely at you.
He tilted your chin up, looking him directly in the eye, immediately disarmed and vulnerable as you did so. His expression changed almost imperceptibly, gone from his eyes in a flash as he looked away from you, addressing the court who had handed you over.
Your ears were ringing too loudly to hear what he said, your head spinning. A solider moved to guide you to sit at the base of the throne, at Loki’s feet, when you were suddenly snapped back into the present moment.
“You will not lay a hand on what is mine!” Loki’s shout thundered through the chamber, stopping the man before he could touch you.
The soldier quickly fell back, recognizing the lethal danger of disrespecting Loki. An entire room held its breath, the seconds agonizing, exhaling only when Loki motioned for festivities to resume.
Despite the advice to hide your fear, Loki could practical feel your startled fright. Everything else blurred into the background, the celebration entertaining itself, leaving you and Loki at the center of your own universe.
Loki leaned down with an outstretched hand, his expression softening as you met his gaze. He had not yet spoken directly to you, but you didn’t need instruction to place your hand in his, allowing his strength to move you forward. Loki guided you to kneel at his feet as he resumed his place on the throne, slotted between his long legs.
Delicate fingers gently tilted your chin to look up at him, the touch startlingly gentle, a stark contrast to what you’d been warned of.
“There is a long night of festivities ahead, you may rest on me if you grow weary,” Loki granted you permission to lie your head against his thigh, to sink back into the new shelter.
You gave a small nod of understanding, looking back down as his attention was demanded from another round of celebration.
Despite the dizzying commotion of Loki’s ceremony, your limbs became heavy and keeping your eyes open was a losing battle. Loki peered down at you as you slowly laid your head against his leg, letting your exhausted body rest for the first time.
A fierce desire to protect you swelled in Loki’s chest, suddenly cross with the noise and lights that combatted your sleep. As he continued to entertain offerings of exotic fruits and tributes from his kingdoms, Loki moved a leg in front of you, glaring at anyone who so much as looked too long in your direction.
He couldn’t imagine how drained you were, to sleep through the chaos. Your weight rested against his leg, though you didn’t let yourself fully drift into deep sleep, some part of you making sure that you were upright, not wanting to displease him.
Loki carefully supported you as he stood, lifting you off the floor with godly strength. The festivities continued without him — kings, gods, and valkyrie reenacting stories of battles and playing with magic in the great halls.
He’d had quite enough of the noise and empty affection, and desired nothing more than some quiet time alone with his offering.
“Careful,” he warned softly as you began to stir, strengthening his grip to keep you from falling.
“M’sorry,” you mumbled, your first words spoken in a haze of exhaustion.
“It’s alright, you’re free to rest,” Loki laid you down on his bed the moment you entered the privacy of his chambers.
Golden floors were etched in sweeping illustrations of history and mythology, telling the stories of your god beneath the bed draped in dark green silks. Huge doors opened to a veranda, a summer breeze ruffling the curtains, allowing glimpses of glittering astronomy overhead.
Your mind yearned to stay awake, to learn your surroundings and stay vigilant in the presence of Loki. Despite that, your body screamed for sleep, sinking into the soft bedding he had placed you on.
.
Loki watched you sleep.
Exhaustion kept your body rigidly still, not moving once the entire night. You stayed curled up in the very corner of the expansive bed, out of reach of Loki, who eventually took his place as the sun cracked the horizon.
The only indication you were real, was the gentle rise and fall of your back as you breathed. As you slept, the frightened expression vanished from your face, softening the your features. Loki couldn’t take his eyes off of you, studying your almost peaceful face.
Loki drifted in and out of sleep, not bothering to wake you after such a late and overwhelming night. You must have been weary, because you couldn’t have been comfortable, making yourself as small as possible at the very edge of the bed, not wanting to take up too much of Loki’s space.
You slowly opened your eyes, sunlight streaming in through the open veranda. The morning seemed impossibly peaceful, despite waking up into a new life of servitude. This didn’t feel like what you’d expected — waking up in a comfortable bed with the warm sun on your face, the scent of breakfast wafting from a huge spread on the chamber’s dining table.
“Good morning, darling,” Loki’s voice was much softer in the privacy of the chambers, without an audience.
You sat up, looking over as he stood from a couch, setting aside a novel. He was more relaxed, wearing loose black linen, his hair tied up loosely.
“Hi,” you whispered, at a loss for words — partially in awe of how gorgeous he was, and partially cautious, as if he were a cobra waiting to strike at any wrong move.
He watched as you observed your surroundings, inspecting your golden cage in the light of day. Loki’s chambers were beautiful, bright, and serene. It seemed so divorced from the perception you had of the god before being let in to the most private part of his existence. Loki moved smoothly throughout the room, delicate hands attached to a lean, muscular body. Loki’s face was sculpted out of marble, so stunningly beautiful it left you breathless. Green eyes pierced straight into your soul, laid bare when he looked at you.
“Eat something,” he gestured to the feast at the table, as if he were the devil, offering food to a goddess to keep captive in his lair forever.
It was your job to obey, your body moving before your mind even considered protest. The shimmering gown you were wearing the night before swept the floor as you walked, Loki admiring how beautiful you were, even slightly disheveled.
You hesitantly took a berry from the table, bringing it to your lips, licking the sweetness off your fingertips. The sight stirred something inside of Loki, his gaze focusing on the contours of your body that were visible through the just-sheer parts of the fabric draped over you.
“Master?” You could feel the weight of his gaze, invisibly drawing you to him.
Loki stepped toward you, pleased as you sank to your knees without any encouragement, easing into his submission. You wanted it, needed it, like your lungs needed air. A shimmer of green made your clothing disappear, baring you fully to Loki’s intoxicated gaze.
“Look at you, fit for a god,” he praised, slowly circling you as you kneeled, appreciating you from every angle.
“Only for you, master.”
“Loki,” he permitted you to call him by name, a request that pulled the corners of your lips up with small satisfaction.
The floor was cold beneath your knees, and your skin began to prick beneath a cool breeze from the veranda. Loki swelled over the recognition that you were his, and his alone. He was hard in the loose linen pants, eager to claim full ownership of you in such an intimate way. You willingly surrendered to him, practically desperate for him to take you, to consummate your submission to the god.
Your hands smoothed up the solid muscles of Loki’s thighs — limbs you wish to be bent over — before clutching the linen waistband and dragging down his trousers. The sight of him hung heavy made your mouth water and your cunt throb, desire swirling in your belly.
“Go ahead. Touch me as you please, I’m as much yours as you are mine,” Loki murmured, realizing you were waiting for permission, to do as you were told.
Long fingers wove into your hair, cradling the side of your head, pulling only slightly as you licked the tip of his cock, sending a shock up his spine.
He leaned back against the wall, smirking as your left palm flattened over his toned abs to brace yourself, pleased that you were trusting his words.
“Gods,” Loki swore when you took him in your mouth, letting him push you down until he was filling your throat.
Pretty tears welled at your lashes at his size, your throbbing need beginning to smear between your thighs. Your free hand worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, your tongue dragging up his shaft. He was both long and thick, his skin like velvet on your tongue. It was a feat to take even half of him in your mouth, and you moaned and the thought of him fucking you, and how you’d beg to take it all.
“If worshipping my cock makes you wet enough to drip on my floor, I’ll let you do it every morning,” Loki purred with a grin, clearly taking notice of the effect he had on your body.
“Please,” you whimpered respectfully, dragging your fist up his length, giving your mouth a break.
“I’m close, darling, you’re doing beautifully,” he praised, watching your thighs squeeze together at his words.
“I want to come in that gorgeous mouth, feel myself in your throat.”
You tilted your head back just a bit, both to gaze up into his eyes and to let him in deeper. A low whine vibrated around his cock as his hand wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing.
“Fuck,” Loki hissed, spilling over into your mouth, filling your senses with his salty taste.
“Swallow it,” Loki commanded, and you were all too willing to obey, wanting to please him.
His thumb swiped over your lips, cleaning up the bit of mess he made, kneeling in front of you as you both caught your breath.
“Was that okay?” the question slipped out before you could stop yourself, puzzling Loki.
“Of course, it was perfect. Haven’t you done it before?”
“No, I’ve been kept pure for you,” you answered, earning a profane string of Norse as his dick twitched.
“You’ve made me insatiable,” Loki pressed a quick, messy kiss to your mouth that was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“No!” Loki shouted, standing up, displayed in his full glory to the guard who opened the door.
The furious god stood in front of you, blocking any eyes from catching even a glimpse of your body.
“Get out, now, or I shall have your eyes torn out!” Loki thundered, fiercely possessive over you.
“I’m so sorry, your highness. Odin has called on you—”
A sharp burst of Loki’s magic sent the man flying backward with a yell, the door slamming shut behind him.
“I’m sorry-” you began, as if you needed to apologize for being nude.
“I will never let anyone else touch you, see your body, or covet what is mine.”
A warmth spread through you at the words, taking his hand to stand up. He took a cloth, carefully cleaning you up, before guiding you into a closet that was full of the finest Asgardian fabrics.
“We’ll continue this later, darling, but for now, you’ll accompany me on whatever nonsense I’m being summoned for,” Loki explained, moving to dress himself as he left you to choose what maids had left for your arrival.
You chose green, pleasing the god as you adorned his colors, another sign of your growing devotion. Loki kissed your wrist, before a band of gold appeared in a shimmer, bringing a smile to your face.
He wordlessly led you out of his chambers, a hand at the small of your back. Being with him was intense — but the castle and all of its people was overwhelming. You found yourself leaning into Loki’s side, away from the noise of shouting and chaos of the everyday happenings.
He looked up from the throne to see what was bothering you before pulling you to sit between his legs where you could sink back into him and ignore the noise.
“We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished. Until then, you can entertain yourself by picturing what I’m going to do to your precious little pussy,” Loki whispered against the side of your face, gently nipping your ear.
You shuddered against his chest, feeling him chuckle beneath you as his arm tightened on your waist. Warmth flushed your cheeks and you turned your face into his arm, shy at the filthy words from Loki. He could feel your heart racing inside your ribs, anxious to tear the emerald gown from your body.
You were lost in your thoughts when Loki banished everyone from the expansive throne room, giant doors embedded with gemstones slamming shut, sealing you alone with him.
“Now, where were we?” Loki asked, mouthing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.
“I believe you were about to fuck me, Loki,” you chirped.
“I love hearing those dirty words on your lips, all for me.”
“Only you,” you promised, closing the gap as he hovered above you.
The kiss was heady, his tongue warm and dominating as he pushed it past your lips. The sensation nearly distracted you from his hands, that were tearing the fabric around your torso, letting it flutter to the floor in shimmering pieces.
“I’m going to fuck you here, on this throne, like a proper king.”
You parted your legs, letting his hand drop between them. Loki smirked into your neck as he cupped your sex, feeling how wet you were, desperate for him as heat radiated from your center.
He didn’t bother to turn you over, perfectly happy to fuck you while you were on top of him, lying on his chest as he sat upon his throne. He glided his cock along your wet lips, only a moment until you were squirming with desperation.
He wanted to hear you beg, but even he couldn’t wait any longer, slowly sinking into you, every inch stretching you impossibly further. The sweet sting made you cry out, your head dropping back on his shoulder when he nestled himself fully inside you.
“You’re perfect for me,” Loki praised through gritted teeth, fighting not to slam into you like an animal. He could feel your walls throbbing around him, muscles burning as they were forced to take the stretch to fit him inside — and you loved it.
You doubted anything would ever feel so good, until his hips started to roll forward, the god fucking you deep and slow, holding your body against his chest. He buried his face in your shoulder, soaking up your squeals of pleasure as he lost himself in you.
Before he even thought to play with you, your cunt began to clench around him with an impending orgasm. Your startled whimper shot straight to Loki’s dick, and he fucked you harder, unable to help himself.
“Come around me, darling, let me know how good you feel,” Loki urged, nearly spilling into you as you trembled in his arms, coming with a scream that echoed off the walls.
“There you go,” he murmured, twitching before he filled you with his seed, painting your insides with him.
Your breaths were ragged and uneven, mind completely foggy in the aftermath. He breathed in your scent as he stayed inside you, preserving the moment for as long as possible.
“I’m yours, forever,” you whispered, as if reading his mind.
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aemonds-sapphire · 1 year
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Precious Stones
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Summary: When you receive a unique gift from Prince Aemond, you know there is no turning back.
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW. Aemond is such a tease...
Word count: 1.5k
Here is part 2
A soft jab at the door stirred you from your shared embroidery sitting with princess Helaena.
“Come in.”
The servant did as the princess commanded, and walked in, bowing profusely at both of you.
“Pardon the interruption. I come bearing a gift from Prince Aemond.”
“Precious stones are shared by loved ones…” you heard Halaena absentmindedly whisper under her breath, too involved in her craft to be bothered to accept the gift. “Precious stones are shared by loved ones.”
You rose to your feet so you could take the velvety pouch from the young girl’s hand.
Even the just mere mention of his name had your heart tighten briefly.
“Thank you,” you gave her a warm smile before walking toward the princess.
“Actually, my lady… it is for you,” her voice was but a whisper. “Prince Aemond requests that you wear it for tonight’s festivities.”
You widened your eyes. “Me?”
Nodding, the servant turned and made her way out of the quarters, leaving you to your thoughts.
This was bold.
Too bold.
Even for the likes of Aemond Targaryen.
Offering gifts to his sister’s lady-in-waiting could rapidly spread like wildfire across the Red Keep. It was not a nuisance you craved.
Even though you did crave him.
Wholeheartedly.
“Precious stones are shared by loved ones.”
Helaena managed to catch your attention as she kept on repeating the same phrase over and over.
“What is the matter, Helaena?” you asked, dropping to her knees, staring at her worriedly.
She then met your gaze with a soft smile. “Let’s see my brother’s gift.”
Resting on the heels on your feet, you untied the neat lace, pouring the gift onto your hand.
Helaena gasped in wonder.
You gasped in horror.
Prince Aemond Targaryen had offered you the most beautiful necklace you had ever had the fortune to touch.
Oval sapphires hung from it, laced in intricate golden patterns that secured them in place. Its weight dug into your hand, and you were certain this had to be the work of the finest jewelers in King’s Landing.
Helaena’s face was radiant as she clapped her hands enthusiastically.
“This is so nice of Aemond,” she beamed, holding your hand so you would stand next to her. “Let me help you put in on.”
It was in moments like these that you thanked the Gods above that Princess Helaena was so often oblivious to the intentions of others. She thought her brother was simply showing courtesy, but that wasn’t the case.
Aemond was now resorting to luxurious gifts to have your attention and… more than that.
Panic took over you. “Absolutely not. I cannot accept it,” you vehemently said, sliding the necklace back inside its pouch. “I shall return it to him.”
The princess dropped her smile, but nodded. “It can be rather rude to return a gift, but I understand.”
Sweat coated the palms of your hands as you urged Helaena to ready herself, so you could join the rest of her family in the big hall.
You felt your mind not being able to focus properly on your tasks, and you almost tripped and fell. Twice.
“You need to be careful,” Helaena rushed to you before taking a look at your feet and crouching to pick up a spider. “You nearly stepped on it…”
As much as you had expected you would have gotten used to her odd antics, it never failed to amaze you how she’d much prefer the company of crawling bugs.
A last glance at the tall mirror and both of you walked out.
She laced her arm in yours, pulling you to her side, humming a joyful song as you paced along the poorly lit corridors.
One turn to the right, and you nearly collided with someone.
“I apologise!” you yelped upon realising who it was.
“Aemond!” Helaena greeted with enthusiasm. “Come with us.”
The young prince bowed curtly. “You both look delightful.”
“As do you,” you immediately whispered, not daring to fully look at him.
Not that you needed to. Aemond always presented himself impeccably, drawing the eyes of everyone he crossed paths with.
“Although…” he said, and you could feel his eye on you. “I do not see my gift on you, my lady.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you immediately let go of Helaena’s arm.
“Go right ahead, dear sister,” he said, offering a short smirk. “I am going to help her put it on.”
The joyful girl smiled widely and took her leave humming. "Precious stones are shared by loved ones."
Feeling your mouth go dry, you stood frozen in place, as he turned to face you.
Before he could speak, you reached for the pouch in your dress and extended your arm to him.
“I cannot accept this, Aemond.”
Silence.
He had his hands laced behind his back, his eye studying you, showing no intention of taking back what he had freely given to you.
After what seemed like too long, he spoke, “Why not?”
“It is beautiful, but I do not deserve it.”
He rose one eyebrow at you. “Are you questioning my judgment? If I see you fit of receiving such gift, then you only have to accept it.”
You licked your lips.
“I just don’t… understand why.”
In half a heartbeat, you had the young Targaryen prince pacing towards you until your back hit the wall behind.
His eye never left your face as he brought one hand to remove the eyepatch that he’d always wear around court so he wouldn’t scare off those around him, revealing the glistening sapphire in place of his left eye.
“Does this repulse you?”
“No,” you answered truthfully. “Never has.”
“This necklace…” he whispered, snatching the velvety pouch from you hand. “Is an extension of myself.”
“People will talk…” you said, as he held the shiny piece of jewelry in between you, the round sapphires casting a faint blue on his face.
“Then let them,” he replied calmly. “Let them know Prince Aemond Targaryen has made his claim.”
Your pulse quickened and you felt your mouth drop open at his statement.
“Let them see that when they look upon you, they look upon me,” he said, his face drawing near. “Let them know that if they question you, they will question me.”
He stood so close, you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips.
“Let them know that if they dare hurt you, they will face my wrath.”
Aemond had you pinned against the wall with the weight of his words. He was well versed enough to move mountains. And, if given the chance, he could certainly make love to his partner without touching them.
You swallowed hard, not knowing what to do with your hands, settling for gripping the sides of your dress, threatening to tear holes into the fabric from the friction.
His lips hovered yours, and you fought back the urge to kiss the young prince.
“There is more that draws us together than apart,” he carried on, eye roaming your face. “And I’ve had enough of fighting my desire to consume you.”
You were at a loss for words, but your body spoke in your stead. The throbbing between your legs, the pants, the sweat that pooled in your hands…
Gods… how you wished he’d take you right there and then.
Aemond brought his gift to your neck, nose nearly touching yours, breath stirring heavier pants from you. He only broke eye contact once secured it neatly against your flushed skin, and you watched his eye drop to your heaving breasts.
“So beautiful…” he murmured, tracing the sapphires that framed your chest with one finger, careful enough no to touch you directy.
It was pure torture.
He shifted slowly, placing his lips to your ear in a whisper. “You look positively delicious…”
You gasped from his words and from the pads of his fingers caressing your restrained breasts.
“I want to fuck you in nothing but that necklace.”
A moan escaped your throat. “Gods…”
“You worry others will talk about my gift,” he purred, tracing your neck with his breaths. “You should worry about hard I’m going to take you.”
The moment his lips touched your collarbone, you felt your walls clench desperately around nothing, wetness dripping from you, and letting you know your body was more than ready to accept his offer.
Another moan was heard from you when he pressed his thigh to your swollen clit, sending jolts of pleasure across your body.
He dragged his lips across your neck, jaw and then almost planted a kiss to your own lips, but leaned back, breaking contact with you.
At the sudden loss of warmth and intimacy, you gasped. “Aemond…”
An amused smirk tugged at his lips, as he placed his eyepatch back in place. “Now you know how it feels like not being able to take what you desire.”
-
Part 2
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hezzabeth · 5 months
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There was someone singing in the greenhouse, someone with a pitch-perfect deep voice. Revati closed her eyes, pressing her ear against the glass door.
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In a field where the paper daisies grow,
Underneath the sun's harsh glow,
I wander through, light and free.
Paper daisies, pink and white,
Your petals so bright.
I sing to you as the world beyond burns.
The smoke coils in the sky far above,
But your petals still dance around me.
Don’t be afraid; soon the rains will come.
Everything lost will grow again.
Paper daisies, pink and white,
Your petals so bright.
I sing to you as the world beyond burns.
The stars begin to rise,
My hands scooping your seeds.
Soon you will take flight
Towards the soft moonlight.
There was an old, prop piano in the abandoned Holly Bush Tavern. The only person who could play it properly was Mr. Gupta. During holiday festivals, he would coax melodies out of the sticky keys while Mrs. Gupta sang in a nasal voice. This was different. The singer’s voice filled Revati in a place she didn’t know was empty. The singing stopped abruptly as Revati’s weight caused the door to creak. Of course, the door creaked. The greenhouse was a wobbling claptrap box made out of welded-together old windows. Miss Grassroots, a tourist who had been dead for almost six years, had built it. Inside lay the heart of Baker Street. The heart had begun as a rose garden. Nanni was the one who began picking up the fallen red petals, drying them, and turning them into tea.
Revati only had vague memories of the first day of the invasion. Mrs. Grasston and Dusk had invaded the kitchens and gift shops. Together they managed to pool together seeds and cuttings in order to grow a small food supply. There was a wall of tomato vines, grown from several seeds found in old slices left in the bin. There were the garden beds where the potatoes and carrots grew. In fact, the potatoes were what kept Baker Street from starving to death. Next to one of the largest windows, the herb and weed boxes grew. Revati’s father was the one who ripped open gourmet tea bags in their home, discovering dried seeds inside. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting under the lemon tree. “You’re a pretty good singer,” Revati said gruffly. “I was just trying to cheer up Deshia; she’s been feeling a bit depressed lately,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree's trunk. “Who’s Deshia?” Revati asked, faintly confused. “The lemon tree, of course! She said nobody's chatted with her for years,” Bridgadeiro said. Suddenly, the tree shook its branches, causing a fresh lemon to fall into Bridgadeiro’s lap. “Thank you for the gift, sweetheart,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree again. Revati stared at the lemon tree, not quite sure what to think. Could a tree really be depressed? It would explain why the lemons were so withered and small.
“All Buns speak plant; it's the same gene that causes our pink hair," he said. Revati glanced around, her eyes briefly falling on the giant pumpkin vine near the door.
"Are the plants talking right now?" Revati asked curiously.
"Most of them fell asleep hours ago. When they were awake, they just kept jabbering on about a golden lady," Bridgadeiro remarked.
"So, the lemon tree is depressed? I could get Aurora to come in here and read to her," Revati conceded.
"It's more than that. She misses the lady who planted her; she doesn't understand why she vanished and never came back," Bridgadeiro remarked. Revati found her hands stroking the book of fairy tales nervously.
"If she's talking about Mrs. Grassroots, she died," Revati replied flatly. Six years ago. Six years ago, there were over a hundred tourists living on Baker Street. Nanni, who had spent years living with mother, insisted on moving into an abandoned hat shop near the edge of the park.
The day the tornado hit was the same day Nanni decided to tell Revati all about her family history.
"I always carry the death stone in my handbag, along with everything else I'd ever need in an invasion," Nanni pointed out. Technically that was true; Nanni's giant handbag was filled with almost anything.
Outside, Revati could hear her father trying to roll down metal shutters. There was the sudden horrible roar, and Nanni's wall exploded in a cloud of rubble.
"A lot of people died," Revati finished, her voice trailing off. First came the tornado that caused a gap in the mirror walls. Then the trickle of automatic vegetable cleaners who decided to exploit the crack. Finally, the battle on Mansfield Park between the cleaners and a group of tourists.
"The lady that planted this tree was actually a member of the Lost Princess rebel army; she convinced a bunch of tourists to fight with her," Revati remarked, shaking her head. Then she firmly opened the book of fairy tales.
"It looks like some people survived," Bridgadeiro replied.
"I don't want to talk about it; I just want to read! Here, you can read with me; you might like this story," Revati replied.
Once long ago, in a lost village near the foot of Mount Raya, there lived a special little girl. She was known for her kindness and her deep love for nature. Everyone in the village called her Naisha. Naisha had a special gift; she could talk to plants. The villagers often saw her whispering to the flowers; they adored her magical gift.
One day, Naisha learned about a legendary tree called the Kalpavriksha. The old ladies in the village whispered that it had the ability to grant any wish. Drought, fearsome and terrible, had swept through the land. Flowers withered, no longer able to whisper. Trees forgot their songs. Naisha decided she must seek out the tree and wish for one thing alone: rain.
"Wake up," a voice screeched, and Revati's eyes snapped open, the book of fairy tales tumbling onto the ground. Aurora was standing above her, the bright morning sunlight making her hair glow.
"Morning," Revati yawned and then jumped when she realized Bridgadeiro was asleep next to her.
Bridgadeiro slowly awoke, smacking his lips together.
"Juniper said you were in here; she never mentioned the boy," Aurora remarked coldly as Revati slowly stood up.
"Anna made him sleep in here; I must have passed out while reading," Revati said.
It was then that Revati realized Aurora was holding a tray filled with fresh strawberries.
"Hmph," Aurora said, shooting Bridgadeiro a suspicious look as he also stood up, patting the tree trunk.
"Let me guess, Queen Victoria sent these with an apology?" Revati asked.
"Yes, and a request to fill her vodka order," Aurora said, placing the tray on the ground.
"If she was really sorry, she'd give us a strawberry plant," Revati pointed out.
"Oh, you don't need one of those! You have the fruit," Bridgadeiro remarked.
"You can't just shove a strawberry in the ground and hope for the best; it rots," Revati replied. Bridgadeiro merely leaned down, examining the strawberries. After a few moments of careful examination, he picked up the biggest, brightest berry.
"You can; you just need the right formula," he said. He vaguely walked towards one of the empty garden beds that was going to be turned into an onion patch. Carefully, he dug a small hole and placed the strawberry inside before covering it in earth. Then, he reached into his massive jumpsuit pocket and this time pulled out a small vial of portable perfume.
"One pump should do it," Bridgadeiro remarked before pumping a cloud of perfume onto the soil. The earth began to twitch and vibrate, and Revati gasped as greenery sprouted from the soil. The plants quivered and then twisted as white flowers bloomed. The petals then shriveled and fell off as the center of the flowers grew into green berries. A few seconds later, the berries blossomed into a deep red.
"They shouldn't be doing that! Strawberries take two weeks to grow," Aurora gasped.
"I suppose they would in the wild, but I just gave them a pump of my Gene Grow fusion serum!" Bridgadeiro said, leaning down to examine the strawberries.
"They should produce fruit every day, but only if you talk to them nicely," Bridgadeiro added as he picked a strawberry and handed it to Revati.
Revati sniffed it suspiciously before taking a tiny bite. It tasted just like a strawberry.
"Does that stuff work on all plants?" Revati asked curiously.
"It tends to go a bit haywire when you spray it on legumes; you end up with giant beans that have no nutrients," Bridgadeiro said.
"I saved your life; think it's only fair you spray all the plants in here," Revati said firmly.
"It would be better if I planted their seeds outside and created new crops; otherwise, the rapidly growing plants could burst outside the walls," Bridgadeiro replied. Revati nodded crisply.
"I'll be sending someone to check on your efforts later today; I'll be far too busy working," Revati replied with as much dignity as she could muster in a sleep shirt before marching out of the greenhouse. The book of fairy tales lay abandoned on the ground.
Revati carefully changed into her work uniform. When she was a child, her wardrobe consisted of souvenir t-shirts from the gift shop fashioned into dresses. Now that she was almost an adult, Revati had to get creative.
Most of the gift shop sweatshirts had been swiped long ago. Instead, Revati put on the top half of the cafe's old uniform. It consisted of a magenta and purple striped waistcoat with a navy blue blouse covered in tiny clocks. The bottom half should have been a matching bustle skirt. Revati switched it with the men's purple trousers. Revati then carefully redid her braid and applied some more soot lipstick. Aurora, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, was waiting for her in the kitchen.
"You're wearing your second best outfit," Aurora remarked.
"I suppose I am," Revati replied as she grabbed her coat.
"I thought you said you were done with romance after that whole mess with Little Hardi last summer," Aurora said, and Revati stopped walking.
"I am!" she protested, and Aurora pressed her thin lips into a disapproving frown.
"You were sleeping with him."
"God forbid I fall asleep next to another human being," Revati said as she marched through the cafe past Nanni, who was sewing something.
"You kept him! You gave him a job," Aurora added knowingly.
"I didn't keep him! He's not a feral child; he can leave whenever he wants," Revati snapped as they stepped outside, and she put on her sunglasses. Olde Landon was always at its worst in the morning. Like all major tourist attractions and cities, Old Landon had an atmospheric blanket high above the park's surface. It meant that nobody in the park froze to death at night, but it also meant the morning light was far too bright.
"Is that Little Hardi and Queen Victoria standing next to the fountain?" Revati sighed wearily.
"They both arrived at sunrise; I told them you were busy, so your mother made them breakfast," Aurora remarked.
"Sunrise; of course, they sacrificed sleep so they could get here first," Revati remarked, marching towards the two other leaders. Queen Victoria was wearing one of the park's costumes, a stained white lace wedding dress. Little Hardi, on the other hand, was wearing a deep blue doublet with a ruff collar and matching tights.
"Little Hardi, is your brother still unconscious?" Revati greeted him.
"We took a vote last night, and he played Macduff," Little Hardi replied.
Revati, who knew fully well what that meant, had to stop herself from flinching.
"You killed him? That's a little harsh," Revati pointed out.
"It was for the best; we need a strong leader during a time of invasion," Little Hardi remarked practically.
"Time of invasion? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Revati had to ask.
"There must be another crack in the wall; thank Jane, it's probably not too big! You two would be far too young to remember the vegetable cleaner invasion," remarked Queen Victoria.
"I was twelve," Revati said dryly.
"I was fourteen; the tornado destroyed the Hamlet's haunted castle ride, and the appliances killed the actor playing Ophelia," Little Hardi pointed out.
"You're both still tiny children as far as I'm concerned; I can't believe this is who I have to work with," Queen Victoria replied, and Revati brushed past her with annoyance, heading to the dress shop across the street.
The shelves of the dress shop had long ago been stripped bare. All that remained were the three Penny Farthing Bicycles that had been part of the shop's window display. Revati wheeled her Penny Farthing outside only to see Queen Victoria having a heated discussion with Aurora.
"What do you mean she's going to ride to the wall by herself? All representatives from all towns should go!" Queen Victoria was screeching, slapping Aurora's shoulder with her fan.
Revati parked her bicycle and marched towards Queen Victoria, grabbing her hand.
"Slap my assistant again, and I'll break your fingers; you know I can do it," Revati growled.
Little Hardi, who was now sitting by the fountain, laughed.
"I was just speaking the truth! We have a treaty; during times of crisis, we unify," Queen Victoria said, her voice tight and a little frightened.
"I don't see Lady Morganna here," Revati pointed out, referring to the ruler of Medieval faire.
"You know perfectly well Medieval faire cut us all off after the tornado hit! They probably all died off years ago," Queen Victoria snapped back. Queen Victoria was right. Medieval faire was located in the center of a massive fake castle complete with a drawbridge. After the invasion, Lady Morganna had yanked up the bridge and refused to speak to anyone. Anna and Nanni had tried to visit several times with baskets of dried lemons. They were horrified when someone from above threw the contents of their toilets onto the streets.
"My new friend said he saw naked people in the wilderness dancing around a murdered television! Sounds like Lady Morganna to me," Revati merely replied, pointing to Bridgadeiro. Bridgadeiro, who was in the middle of taking several pumpkins out of the greenhouse, waved.
"Could be a coincidence; regardless, you are not going to the wall! We need to have a proper group committee meeting first! Then a vote," Queen Victoria's.
Revati just rolled her eyes and released Queen Victoria's hand, causing her to stumble and fall onto the floor. Revati then reached into her jacket, pulling out her stun gun, shoving it into the queen's stomach. The Queen made a faint whimpering sound as her eyes rolled backward, and she collapsed again. Revati then aimed the gun at Little Hardi, who held his hands up, protesting.
"I'm not going to stop you! I came here to propose marriage," Little Hardi insisted.
"Marriage? To me?" Revati asked dubiously.
"All kings need a consort, and I'm not interested in Big Hardi's husband," Little Hardi said, slowly getting down on one knee.
Revati stared at him and shook her head.
"I'm seventeen," Revati pointed out.
"Well, the wedding wouldn't be for another couple of years," Little Hardi replied.
"I thought we agreed to keep our relationship professional after the handkerchief incident," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi held a hand to his heart.
"I told you dozens of times I had nothing to do with my brother's plot," Little Hardi insisted.
"He accused me of cheating on you using an old prop handkerchief as evidence, and you believed him despite it being the exact same plot of the play Othello," Revati pointed out. The entire incident occurred over a year ago and ended with Revati kidnapped and tied up on the stage in a white fluffy nightgown.
"I'm a very insecure person," Little Hardi pleaded. Dating while trapped in a fun park during the apocalypse was difficult. Before the feral children came along, Revati was the youngest person on Baker Street. All the teenagers in Whistleton were raised to be incredibly prissy. Most of them refused to do anything more than dance or hold hands. Little Hardi had been a fun, age-appropriate choice. Little Hardi was happy to do far more than hold hands.
"No," Revati said firmly.
"No? Really?" he asked, sounding faintly surprised.
"First of all, your legal system involves killing criminals on stage in the middle of plays, which is horrifying," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi shrugged.
"Secondly, I'm not an idiot! You just want to marry me so you can take over our greenhouse," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi gasped as if looking deeply insulted.
"That's not true! If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks," Little Hardi pleaded as Revati climbed onto the penny farthing.
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hunny-beann · 5 months
Text
The Coming of Spring
Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader
Synopsis: It is May Eve on Asgard, a Holiday that exists to celebrate love, fertility, and the coming of Spring…
Though, if your lover, Prince Loki has his say in the matter (and he usually does), Spring will not be the only thing to come, nor will it be the only worshiped aspect of this particular eve.
Note: Welcome to the smut fest! For some reason I've found myself up at six in the morning writing this, so please forgive any mistakes I've made while in my horrendously exhausted state. I hope you enjoy! :)
Warnings: Pretty graphic NSFW, vulgarity, somewhat of a breeding kink, and pure unadulterated filth
Word Count: 2,419
There was a rather frantic energy pulsing throughout the room as the palace staff rushed about nervously, not a single set of idle hands to be found in the combined effort to finish the preparations for the afternoon's upcoming festivities in a timely manner.
You blew out a puff of air, already exhausted from the tasks you had completed thus far and silently cursing this day for daring to come at all.
And yet this year, as with every other, the springtime holiday still arrived, the augur of some great change, according to legend, though for you it always meant the same thing:
Waking up at five in the morning to prepare for the upcoming afternoon festival in whatever manner the queen deemed fit for the proper celebration of what had come to be well known Walpurgisnacht, or May Eve, the holiday that brought upon the loud and boisterous worship of love, fertility, and the coming of Spring.
And of course, a day so dedicated to such things was one of pleasant festivities to be certain, and thus you never failed to enjoy it, but even still, your chores weighed heavily upon you as your overworked fingers weaved petals and stems through glistening golden iron.
It had been four hours since you had gotten up to work, and somehow it had felt like an eternity, your hands cramping and begging for relief as the tips of your fingers rubbed themselves raw with duty.
You paused for a moment to yawn into the crook of your elbow, wishing for the one hundredth time within that hour alone that you had gotten more sleep the night before.
Still, it had been a worthy sacrifice, had it not? A little bit of exhaustion today in order to avoid the simmering desire of the realm's younger prince throughout the festivities, or, more accurately yet, throughout your abundant tasks that you had scheduled about your day?
Yes, almost assuredly. You had learned all too well from last year (and the other two before that), that it was rather hard to do such things as wash the finest of the palace's dinnerware with Loki's skilled fingers upon your chest or beneath your dress, after all.
So, if a bit of freedom from your concerns of being dragged off into some dark corner upon every available moment of your dear prince's day came at the cost of you being forced to wake up early while he slept away the previous evening's activities, then so be it.
At least this way, you could know for certain that you still had quite a few hours yet until someone urged the prince to rise, giving you plenty of time to complete at least the preparatory chores before he began his ever persistent search for you.
He seemed to enjoy the game of seeking you out each morning, or at whatever time it was that he rose or found himself at leave, though usually it was to do little more than tease or annoy you as you attempted to work through his ceaseless attempts at distraction.
But on a holiday like today, you found that he was typically all too content with taking his teasing quite a few steps further. That said, much to your (mostly feigned) chagrin, that did not mean that he never found himself seeking out far less innocent sounds than those of annoyance, laughter, or sheer disbelief from you on random days throughout the year.
No, Loki was incorrigible, and beyond even that, incomprehensible with his choices and behaviors, and you could normally never hope to know upon which day you might find yourself sandwiched between his chest and some palace wall, though with the arrival Walpurgisnacht, it was almost always a certainty.
Still, with something that was perhaps akin to a fool's ignorance, you dared to hope that maybe, after a night like the one this dawn had followed, your prince may have been just sated enough to make it through the holiday without torturing you so the way that he usually chose to.
Such a thought could not be so terribly remiss, could it? Not after the hours upon hours of groping, fleeting, and cradling touches that the two of you had offered one another the night before.
Not after an afternoon's worth of teasing at the hands of the god of mischief upon that very same day, or the longing glances that carried on well into the evening.
Not after he had cornered you in the garden after dinner had come to an end, speaking his long withheld and inconceivably filthy promises of what was to come clearly and casually into the cool night air as if the two of you were simply taking an evening stroll together, talking about the weather or your hobbies rather than the way he planned to have you upon his tongue within the hour, hands creating bruising imprints of obvious ownership in the soft flesh of your hips and thighs as he drove you to madness before pulling you right back toward sanity again with the blunt tip of his cock as it kissed up against your wet folds, smearing precum amongst the remnants of his saliva and the glistening drool of your already thoroughly abused cunt.
Not after you had given in a mere twenty minutes after hearing his whorish promises of what he intended to do to you once he laid his hands upon your bare flesh again, knocking quietly at his heavy chamber doors until he finally came to find you standing there, having made you wait in a manner that was no doubt intentional just so he could feel the exaggerated way that you melted against him when he finally pulled you near, kissing you deeply until his amused and teasing chuckles turned into low and rumbling groans that arose from deep within his chest, and he pulled away to order you to your knees before him, mouth open and waiting so he could see the way your eager tongue stuck out to taste him even before he was bare before you, and how your perfect thighs began to rub together in a fruitless attempt to ease the ache that the sight of him never ceased to cause.
Not after he had held you firm against his chest, arm looped around your middle as you'd laid beneath him on all fours while he'd thrust his strong and lithe hips against your trembling ones, not an ounce of mercy to be found as he hissed and moaned with reckless abandon beside your ear, the sounds of his pleasure easily matching and occasionally even drowning out your own as he reminded you of who you had been born to serve, to worship, and to cum for upon his very command.
And oh, did he command.
Eleven orgasms, if you had counted correctly, and you were fairly certain with as hazy as your mind had felt after the first four, that you had not.
Your cheeks burned red at the clear and persistent memories of the previous night, Loki's satisfied groans and sluttish moans playing over and over within your head as if he were right there with you, cock buried in whichever tight, wet hole was deemed worthy of his attentions within that particular moment.
You swallowed thickly, pressing your thighs together tightly as you continued your seemingly endless work, flower after flower coming to rest perfectly upon the third archway that had been granted your efforts for the morning thus far.
Though, in spite of how diligently you worked at your assigned chore, it seemed that the fates themselves had something against it being completed,
For what other reason could there be for such familiarly agile hands to suddenly rest upon your hips so early in the morn, in spite of the tiresome escapades that had occurred the night before?
It was so unlike the younger prince of Asgard to awaken so early after a night of passion, after which he tended to lounge upon his sheets, naked body blessing the very realm with its presence as sunlight danced upon his skin.
You had seen that many a time after all, hadn't you? So you would certainly know, better than most at that, if not better than all.
But then again, it was so very much like Loki to rise early not to seize this day, but rather to seize you upon it as he had done for the past three May Eves since he had claimed you as his own...
And maybe you had not considered that fact as diligently as you should have while working to tire him out the night before, though now you were embarrassed to admit that you scarcely knew why you would have wanted to do so in the first place.
It seemed that your rather vivid memories of the prior evening's festivities had brought about a familiar stirring betwixt your thighs, and you knew all too well that there was only one set of hands, one silver tongue, one long and devastatingly thick cock, and one god of mischief who could help you to ease your sudden discomfort.
"Good morning, my dear."
He purred against the shell of your ear, warm breaths causing your hair to flutter about delicately as his hands traveled over top your gown.
"It would seem that I require some additional support when it comes to selecting and befitting myself with the proper attire for this afternoon's festivities."
He all but purred, forcing you to bite back a shiver as you struggled not to make your already overwhelming need for him too obvious.
It was never fun to just give in, after all.
You knew all too well how much he liked the chase.
So, with that thought in mind, you steadied yourself to the best of your ability, giving your already racing imagination a few brief moments of peace before finally, you spoke,
"Is that so, my prince?"
You asked, feigning curiosity as you did your best to continue working on the task at hand, sore fingers working deftly at soft petals and slightly thorny stems as you weaved them continuously through metal.
"Well, I regret to inform you that your dear mother, our most respected queen, specifically requested that I myself create the flowered arches for the festival this year."
You began,
"She was kind enough to let me know how much she enjoyed my work upon them last eve in Lady Juniper's absence, and asked if I might be willing to work my magic for a second year running."
You heard an amused chuckle arise from behind you, and though you were certain that Loki had already planned something truly devious to drag you away from your duties with, you continued to feign innocence.
"And how could I dare say no to a request such as that, dear prince? It would seem that Lady Juniper's past maternity leave has provided me with quite the opportunity with which to rise into our lady's good graces, and who would I be to squander such a thing?"
There was a thoughtful hum from your lover as he reached beyond you to thumb at a few of the petals that decorated your current project with his left hand, though the right stayed firm upon your hip, the pads of his fingers pressing deftly into your flesh just as they had done the night before, mirroring the bruises he'd left there perfectly.
"An utter fool, to be sure."
He replied easily, voice low and smooth as he continued,
"Though, I can think of a far better way for you to rise into the All-Mother's good graces, sweetling."
He murmured, lips brushing against your neck just enough so that you could feel the smirk that rested so prominently upon them.
He had you exactly where he wanted you, though you could scarcely bring yourself to mind when there was such a tremendous desire building for him deep within your core.
"Oh?"
You asked curiously, nimble fingers still working on your once so heavily fixated on project,
"And what might that be, Prince Loki?"
At that, you felt the ever teasing god of mischief crowd your back, his hardness pressed against you as you desperately fought the urge to wriggle against his crotch just to hear the no doubt sluttish groan he would let out if you did.
Thankfully enough though, your lover seemed eager to get to the point, the reasoning for that fact somehow growing even harder at the touch of your warmth, even with it being so dulled beneath your clothing.
He chuckled,
"Well my dear, I think you would find her to be quite pleased if you were to request your own leave in the coming months."
He purred, and this time, you could not even hope to fight back the shiver that followed, your hands finding either side of the nearly completed archway with a gasp as Loki bent you over at the waist, pressing himself as close to your clothed core as he could manage with a low and eager groan, his words dripping with both amusement and thinly veiled arousal as he spoke up again,
"Would you like me to give you a reason to do so?"
He all but growled, offering you one tortuously slow gyration of his hips in order to ensure your understanding of his less than subtle connotations as the hand that had once gripped so tightly to your hip moved swiftly beneath your dress, rubbing firmly against your bundle of nerves through your undergarments as you gasped both out of humiliation for where he had you so plainly in need of him, as well as out of arousal at his confident and ever beseeching touch.
And then suddenly, you were giving fervent and almost pleading nods in response to his previous question, having given up entirely on any hope of completing your most important project of the day.
It was, after all, May Eve, and how else should one hope to properly celebrate the coming of the Spring if not by blossoming beneath the touch of the queen's beloved second son?
And, it was as Loki had so cleverly stated himself,
It was not as if you would not be arriving swiftly and permanently within Frigga's good graces soon.
No, not if the god of mischief had his way,
Not if the two of you celebrated Walpurgisnacht in the way that Freyja herself had intended.
Loki Tag List: @mischief2sarawr
Additional Tag: @lokisgoodgirl (thank you very much for so kindly answering my anonymous questions regarding the SAS earlier! I've found that I have yet to develop the courage necessary to directly message any (other) particular authors yet, but I figured I can at least step outside of my comfort zone and tag you as you oh so kindly gave me permission to in your reply. Thank you again for your encouragement! <3)
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Text
A/N: This is like the backstory of both AUs I'm writing, minus the Dainsleif love from hundreds of years ago in "Last Champion" and the one with the regular SAGAU.
And yes, this is me begging for some SAGAU, Creator!Reader ideas/requests alonsgide with Dainsleif and Baizhu, or any other characters
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Okay so, in both of the Creator!Reader AU's I'm writing, reader favoures Khaenri'ah more but never outly says it in fear of a War or the Archons not taking it well. They are the "pride and joy" of Them, (the people worships Them, and yes they are godless in a way but they devoted themselves to the Creator so who is mightier? Mondstadt? Natlan?) and when not even the Archons or the Four Shade knew of the Creator's face, They were sitting with Dain eating peacefully or playing with the children of Khaenri'ah as They let the younger ones play in wonder with Their powers, the makeshift toys and park with Their golden powers, with Their starry hair and braid it as they liked.
It wasn't a norm, nor was it forbidden to be touchy with their Creator since They insisted on it. Every day, the Creator would come and watch them, or up on the throne, as they accomplished more and more each day.
And in the meantime, They also understood their ambitions and love for the nature of life. They had become much more humane, understanding of feelings and why they did what they did and why they reacted in certain ways.
The first time They felt pain was one that gave Dain nightmares-
But the day They felt love was... even more chaotic and also wholesome.
Platonic love when a mother rushed to her child when the kid fell and romantic öne when They... saw a couple kissing.
"Dain, what's that?" You pointed softly with a confused tilt of your head and Dain had to refrain from smiling softly at you.
He had a reputation to uphold, even if it included his God.
"Hmm? Oh, a couple, Your Grace." He stated obviously, watching you hum for a second before your starry eyes found his blue, star-shaped one and caught it in a soft and intense way. You held his hand thightly in yours, your heart beating loudly inside the mortal cages of this body as a foreign feeling coursed through you... Unknown to the way Dain's heart as well beated harshly under his own as a blush rose to his pale cheeks.
"And what are they doing?"
"They are kissing... It's what people who love each other do." He said breathlessly and stared at your lips. That was wrong, but you were just so kind... so understanding and loving.
And all the time you two spent together made hım slowly fall for you, all the time he watched you force someone in the palace to have a walk with you or play pranks while trying to stiffle his own chuckles captured his heart.
"So... does that mean we can do that too?"
*shocked Pikachu Dain as he tried to explain that you can't do that with everyone but your lover*
But, no one could deny the fact that their captain was so obviously in love with Them. So captivated and enchanted by them that it really touched their heart whenever they saw him carrying You between his arms with a lovesick smile as you laughed serenely, lighting their souls and heart up, while pointing to somewhere that caught your attention.
There were some that preferred you to show the same affection to the Royal family, but most were pleased and happy that it was someone they relied on. So much so that there were many festivals on both of your names, though you two sneaked away and under a white canopy...
Had your first kiss ever, with a promise ring soon gifted to each other that represented eternity with your pure love.
You foolishly believed everything would be better, no one would suspect anything and you would get to court him peacefully. You didn't slack on your job, and Dain understood that. Of course he did! He was glad and happy that he had the eternal love of the Creator after all, and the times you two spent time together in either his or your bed, talking idly with him tracing shapes on your back and you listening to his heart as you laid on his chest, creating even more memories to look back to, the lights of the City reflecting on your bodies as your love for the man warmed him in a protective cacoon...
It was true heaven for both you, Teyvat and Khaenri'ah.
But nothing good lasts forever, not when you forgot one trivial thing
Celestia knows tho, all the times you ascended down It watched you with jealousy and hatred as all your affection was poured on them and this Dainsleif. It was your first creation, It was there before Teyvat, that Dainsleif was there. It was who you loved the most once...First the Archons, and now Khaenri'ah took you away from Them.
And if They had to get rid of them, and all the people that took you away... So be it.
And shit goes down to when the Cataclysm happens and as the Creator, who also had to fight Celestia so that your children would be safe, at one last attempt at defending and protecting Khaenri'ah who had become more like an actual home that people you should have never cared for in the beginning, you give away your powers so that they would be saved from the evil clutches of Celestia and live.
(Even though it wasn't enough to prevent the "immortality curse" and "eroison".)
But! That also means that Celestia would be able to easily overpower Them and torn the Creator!Reader apart, to make Them even more weaker to chain them forever with them, or maybe away from Teyvat to where they could watch Them forever.
And Dain, as your beloved, is obviously angry. Angry at everything, at the curse on him that slowly ate his memories with you away, his humanity away but then... Then he remembers, he remembers the time you worriedly told him that Celestia had been acting strange, like what they called "a spoiled child".
But you never even for once thought about the possibility of your first creation to betray you like that, even when he talked about his concerns about your safety, to be more cautious.
"They are my first ever, we have been side by side for so long, They would never do that!"
And now, you were forced to watch as they... everyone screamed in pain and agony, begging for help and loosing their minds, and their lives... Dain becoming the shell of the man he once was as he became a nomad... Ei loosing Makoto, Morax loosing his friends and Guizhong, Barbatos loosing that batd friend of him that thought him of Freedom, Buer giving herself away...
But none of them, not even for once blaming you.
But, if there was one thing Celestia didn't think about... It was the fact that you would never leave your people alone to die, to perish.
And as you waited in the shadows, in a deep slumber, until your time came, you silently made your plans.
For now... You let Celestia believe that They were victorious.
For now... They wouldn't face the true wrath of the Creator, as they too, changed.
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
Text
Title: Homebound.
Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin).
Word Count: 2.9k.
TW: Prolonged Imprisonment, Obsessive Behavior, Delusional Behavior, Mentions of Torture, There Is A Kid Involved But Childe Just Sorta Found It In The Woods, and Disturbing Themes.
[Part Two]
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He would be coming for you, soon.
The sky was still dark, the stars still as bright as they had been in the dead of night, but the moon was beginning to sink below the horizon, the lampposts that lined the street below your apartment beginning to fade as their oil stocks ran dry. You’d been at your window since sunset, too anxious to do anything more than stare at the scrapes of landscape and, occasionally, glance towards the cradle behind you, where your Lina slept soundly, unaffected by your racing heart or gnawing nerves. It was for the best, as unfair as it felt that you would have to burden her fear as well. You did this so she wouldn’t have to suffer like you had, wouldn’t have to live under the suffocating care of a man with too much power and too little love in his heart.
You were doing this so she would never have to know what it was like to be a part of Childe’s family, and a toddler's cluelessness wasn't going to be the thing that made you give up.
With a shallow sigh, you tore yourself away from the window and brought yourself back into the reality of your cluttered apartment, hastily thrown into disarray after his visit that afternoon. As many of your possessions as you could account for had been ripped from their drawers and thrown from their cabinets, brought out into the open where you could take stock of what few belongings you had. There wasn’t much you needed, really. Any family heirlooms or beloved childhood trinkets had been lost the first time you escaped from Childe, but you filled your pockets with what little you still considered dear to you  - a rose-shaped pendant a kind stranger had gifted to you when you first arrived in Mondstadt, a flimsy ring of golden vines and miniature cecilias you had won at a booth during the last Windbloom festival, and lastly, the sphere of metal and glass as-of-yet unbound by any casing. Your Vision, as much as you hated acknowledging the damned thing’s existence.
 Your cloak was next, dark enough to melt into the shadows of the forest and long enough to drag against the floor as you tied it around your neck. A swab of shapeless, black fabric accompanied it, but before you made use of that, you found the powered sleeping draught a healer had given your sometime back, when the nightmares were still too vivid to be suppressed by exhaustion alone. Gritting your teeth, you spread a small portion of the lilac dust over the pad of your thumb, and approached the cradle.
It was a small mercy, really, that whatever resemblance Childe had seen in Lina was lost on you. She had reddish hair, but it was too light, closer to blonde than ginger. Her eyes, while blue, were brighter, more curious, more full of life than those of a man who felt nothing but bloodlust and obsession could ever be. She did not have her abductor’s freckles, his pale skin, and you were thankful each time you looked at her that you did not see Childe, that she would never be bound to him by blood or by likeness.
You could remember the day he brought her home, no more than a few months old and bundled in his blood-flecked coat. He’d made it out to be a miracle, as if the archons had descended from Celestia and laid the child that you had selfishly refused to give him at his feet. You’d already decided to run away by then, already started to plan how you’d escape his awful little cabin and his awful frozen nation, but Lina had forced you into immediate action. It was one thing to submit yourself to Childe, to play soft and innocent for another week while you prepared. You couldn't have left Lina in his care for any longer than absolutely necessary and still expected to be able to live with yourself.
That might’ve been why your heart ached as painfully as it did as you reached down, slipping your thumb past her lips and spreading the powder across her gums. She stirred, her expression souring, but you swallowed back your remorse as the sleeping draught took effect, as she relaxed and fell into a sleep too still to be natural. The guilt was nearly overwhelming, but you would have to stomach it. Whatever happened, she couldn’t wake up. Not before you made sure she was somewhere safe.
Steeling yourself, you pulled the cloak’s deep hood over your head, lifted Lina from her cradle, swaddled her body in the black fabric, and slipped out of your apartment and into the night.
--
Childe was in your apartment.
In your living room, sitting in your favorite (and only) armchair, bouncing Lina softly on his lap. You could hear her cooing as soon as you stepped through the door, see her sitting upright and gripping at the fingers of an offered hand, taste the apology you'd been practicing for taking so long at the afternoon market, but it took you a little longer to notice Childe, to process that he was here, in your house, holding your daughter. Like he had any right to. Like you hadn’t gotten away from him.
“I can already tell - she’s gonna be a fighter.” He was already grinning, already pushing himself to his feet. You couldn’t move, couldn’t run as he came to stand next to you, holding her against his side. “That’s our little Atalanta. Barely a year old and already shaping up to be such a fierce warrior.”
Atalanta. You’d almost managed to forget that Childe had given her a name of his own – a name fit for a hero, at that. Your Lina wouldn’t be a hero. She wouldn’t carry a name that demanded a place in the tales of adventures and on the tongues of storytellers. She would live a quiet, happy life in Mondstadt. the city of freedom. She would be great if she wanted to be, but she wouldn’t be a weapon. She wouldn’t be what he would’ve raised her into.
“She's growing like a weed, too.” And yet, you couldn’t seem to say that. You couldn’t seem to move. A hand fell to the small of your back, his smile taking on a softer drawl as he let his head lull to the side. “We’ll have to redecorate the nursery. I tried to keep up with all the milestones, but it’s been… how long? Nine months?” He paused, chuckled. “You kept me lonely, you know that? I didn’t even have our little Atalanta to keep me company.”
Something very large and very sharp lodged itself in the back of your throat. “Lina.”
Childe’s smile faltered. “What was that, dear?”
“Her name is Lina.” You were smart enough not to try and tear Lina out of his arms, but that did little to stifle the temptation. “You’re not welcome here. Get out and get away from my daughter.”
He let out a breathy laugh, pulling away from you and returning Lina to her cradle, unbothered by your meager threats. “You’re really going to be stubborn about this, huh? I let you go on your little trip, gave you more than enough time to live out your little fantasy in this rotting shack of a country, and you’re still going to be stubborn?” Another laugh, another faltering grin. He started towards you, careful to keep himself between you and Lina, but it was an unnecessary precaution. You were rooted to the ground, unable to move as he embraced you – wholeheartedly, this time, both arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you off the floor and into his chest. You could feel his smoldering breath fanning over the side of your neck, his blunt nails burrowing into your sides as he fought to keep you as close as possible, but you did nothing to resist him. You weren’t going to fight him in front of Lina, no matter how much you wanted to claw at his face, to shove at his chest, to get him away from you. You weren’t going to make her watch that. “Come home. I’m only going to ask once.”
He hadn’t asked at all, but it would’ve been a waste of time to point that out.
“Are… are you going to hurt me, if I refuse?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to hurt you either way. You ran away from me. You stole my daughter.” Spoken softly, with more than a note of anticipation in his voice. “But, if you don’t put up a fight, I’ll try not to break anything that won’t heal.”
--
His subordinates were swarming the area around your apartment. They couldn’t wander openly, not with the attention their concentrated presence would draw, but you could feel their eyes burning into you from side streets and alleyways as you descended the narrow staircase, prying into you for a moment before moving onto their next target. They were looking for someone who fit Childe’s description – a sweet, doe-eyed thing carrying a child made from sunlight and laughter, not someone dressed for weather much more hostile than anything Mondstadt had to offer, trotting a formless heap of material. What interest your attire would’ve garnered dissolved completely as you joined a large group of passing drunkards, thrown out of their taverns and sent to stumble home at some unholy hour, too belligerent to do anything but welcome you into their numbers. It was a small blessing that you'd spent as much time in the taverns as you had, despite how little you cared for wine. There wasn't a barfly within Mondstadt's walls who would think to question your presence among them.
You followed them north, through the city’s commercial district, keeping your head low and Lina wrapped in your arms until you reached the gate to the eastern port. The drunkards continued on, but you remained.
It was deserted, as you thought it would be. You knew Fatui agents were posted at the city’s gates, waiting to catch you if you tried to flee this nation, too, but the eastern port wasn’t so eye-catching, wasn’t such a vital thing to guard when it came to blocking off the possible escape routes of runaway captives. Even if it hadn’t been so easily forgotten, it would’ve been a waste of men to guard. There was only one bridge over Cider Lake, and no one in their right mind would try to swim across, especially with a child in tow. Unless you could walk on water, the main gates were the only way in or out of the city.
Unfortunately for Childe, you weren’t as helpless as you’d been the first time he stole you away.
You followed the shore for as long as you could, until the city’s walls threatened to bend and reveal your position to the agents posted at the main gates. With no lack of trepidation, stepped onto the sand and reached into your pocket, taking up your Vision and holding it tightly in your clenched fist. The chill bit into your palm, unhindered by any casing, pure Cryo energy pulsing beneath the hazy surface of the glass. You hadn’t been able to look at it for weeks after you arrived in Mondstadt, and even after you’d started to overcome your aversion, it was hard to imagine a world wherein you could carry it proudly, where you could give such an awful thing the care and attention it’d take to learn how to use it properly.
Not that you had time to practice, right now. It was all you could do to give yourself a few seconds to catch your breath as you stepped out and onto the lake, the glassy water instantly freezing underneath your feet. A hairline crack formed across the surface as you shifted your weight onto it, but the ice held, and you let your shoulders slump, relief replacing a fraction of your anxiety. It was slow progress, each step hesitant and unsure, but you persisted, even as frost crept up the heel of your boots, even as a chill more pointed and more penetrating than any you’d felt before seeped under your skin and into the gaps between tissue and bone.
Even as, as much as you loathed to admit, you realized that the cold was not quite as unpleasant as you'd hoped it would be.
--
“But, if you don’t put up a fight, I’ll try not to break anything that won’t heal.”
You glanced towards the cradle, towards Lina as she struggled to sit up and started to look for her suddenly absent source of entertainment. It wasn’t good to lay her down so quickly, to leave her unattended while she was still awake, but once again, you doubted it’d be of any use to tell Childe that. “What’ll happen to Lina?”
“I’ll take care of Atalanta, obviously.” You could feel his lips against the curve of your throat, the points of his teeth against your skin. “I've had to wait months for this. Do you really think I’d neglect her now?”
You were more worried about how she’d turn out under his full attention.
But, you pretended to consider it, pressing your lips into a thin line and going quiet. After more than a few seconds, you brought your hands up to his chest – not shoving, but nudging gently, softening yourself into something delicate, something he’d be able to understand. There was a throaty, disappointed groan, a minute or so of resistance, but eventually, he lowered you back onto your feet, letting his hand fall to your hips. “I’ll come with you,” you started, slowly, deliberately. It hurt to say, the sentiment searing your throat and catching on your teeth. The fact that you, of course, did not mean a word you said was only a minor salve. “But, Lina deserves one last day in her home, and so do I. Give us until dawn tomorrow, then we’ll both come willingly.”
He bowed his head, falling far enough to let his lips brush against your forehead. He’d always thought of any distance between your body and his as an unnecessary frivolity, a luxury he wasn’t willing to give you. Apparently, your time apart hadn’t lessened his distaste for separation. “You know how pointless it is to run, right? The Fatui have every plank of wood in this city under surveillance, and my subordinates won’t be as forgiving with you as I am.”
“Please, Childe.” You lean into him, melting against his chest. He was a soldier, a warrior, not a diplomat. If you were sweet enough, if you spoke in a way that appealed to his delusions, then he would listen. “Just one more day. Then, you’ll have us for the rest of our lives.”
There was another squeeze to your waist, another lingering kiss to your forehead. “One day.”
There was no need to look at him as he pulled away. You could practically hear his smile.
“Then, you’re all mine.”
--
You made it to shore unscathed, but your trek through the forest was not so painless.
Each step was labored, made more impossible by the bundle in your arms, the weight of your cloak, the months you’d spend living in domestic peace. Your cloak snagged on every stray branch and boulder, your boots easily caught under roots and stray vines, and the darkness of the night only served to make each obstacle more unavoidable, more difficult to shield Lina from. Even holding your daughter was a challenge, once the adrenaline faded and exhaustion began to set in. Your arms ached where they had not already gone numb, and your chest swelted underneath the heavy fabric, more suited for Snezhnaya's eternal winter than Monstadt's ever-present summer. Resigning yourself to the main road would’ve cut hours off of your journey, but roads were patrolled, and you could not risk meeting another person – knight, adventurer, and agent alike. You didn’t have the time it would’ve taken to explain yourself, let alone pick a fight.
You travelled west, across the valleys of Windrise, through the most wilderness-infested outskirts of Springville. The sky was beginning to lighten by the time your destination came into sight, and with its purpose now obsolete, you shed your cloak and began to descend, taking your time to skirt down sheer rockfaces, to wad through the slow-running streams that webbed across the land. You navigated through the rows of wooden racks and grape vines, not yet in bloom, only letting yourself slow as dirt turned to cobblestone, as the mansion before you turned from a shadowed suggestion to a great, towering structure – secure in the sheer implication of its size.
Finally, finally, you came to a stop before the main entryway. It was all you could do to stand there for a moment, to stare up at the mansion and note all the minute differences between its face and that of Childe’s cabin. When you finished, you raised your hand and, with as much force as you could manage, knocked on the door to Dawn Winery.
A maid answered immediately, confusion turning to abject horror as she noticed the state of your clothing, the leaves and debris caught in your hair, the thousand or so tiny cuts and scrapes pleated over your arms and face. She opened her mouth, but you spoke first, unwilling to spend any longer out in the open than you already had. “I need to speak to Master Ragnvindr.”
She pursed her lips. “The young Master does not—”
“Concerning what topic?”
It was a masculine voice, coming from further down the hall. Somewhat begrudgingly, the maid pulled the door open, allowing you to see into the dim mansion. Diluc stood at the other end of the hall, half-dressed, a length of black ribbon in one hand and his hair gathered in the other. Clearly, you’d interrupted his morning rituals. “I’ve heard,” you started, unwrapping Lina’s bundling and praying that those long nights spent listening to the rumors that swirled in the deepest pits of the darkest taverns would serve you well. “that you do not hold much affection for the Fatui.”
His gaze flickered from you to Lina, to your trembling arms. With little hesitation, he approached you, meeting your eyes as he reached for your daughter. You gave a reluctant nod, and he took her up, holding her to his broad chest. “I've always preferred to keep less blood-stained company.”
“In that case,” You step across the threshold, allowing the door to fall shut behind you.
“How would you like to make a Harbinger very, very angry?”
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olenvasynyt · 2 months
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“It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.”
I really need to talk about this, and the fight Feyre and Lucien have in ACOFAS in general because Feyre is so wildly frustrating during this whole conversation, and I want to delve into it line by line.
So this is when Lucien arrives for the Winter Solstice.  Elain has left the room and the argument him and Feyre have begins with Feyre saying he should live in Velaris.
Chapter 18 of ACOFAS: “‘You could come live here, is all I’m saying,’ I pushed.  ‘Truly live here, stay in Velaris for longer than a few days at a time.  We could get you nicer quarters—‘ Lucien got to his feet.  ‘I don’t need your charity.’”
First issue that isn’t a huge deal but “nicer quarters”?  Not a home, just quarters, an allowance, a charity, as Lucien says here?
And it just keeps going downhill, because when he explains that he is getting along with Vassa and Jurian just fine, she is almost taken aback and shows a bit of jealousy.  Her biases are really starting to show as well as her lack of self-awareness.
I rose as well.  ‘But Jurian and Vassa’s is fine?’ ‘You’d be surprised to see how well the three of us get along.’ Friends, I realized.  They had somehow become his friends.  ‘So you would rather stay with them?’ ‘I’m not staying with them.  The manor is ours.’” ‘Interesting.’ His golden eye whirred.  ‘What is.’ Not feeling very festive at all, I said sharply, ‘That you now feel more comfortable with humans than with the High Fae.  If you ask me—' ‘I’m not.’ ‘It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without their homes of their own as well.’”
She lashes out and basically says that the Night Court isn’t Lucien’s home.  
This part is so awful to me for multiple reasons. Now, there is the critique of Lucien having prejudices towards humans in ACOTAR.  That is probably the only critique I will accept, he was an ass in the first book; the way he talked about humans negatively impacted Feyre.  And this could be applied to Eyre’s side of this argument, Feyre could be like “huh you’re friends with humans now, that’s interesting.  You always shat on humans before.”
But I do not think this can be applied to this argument because 1. Feyre, after her change to High Fae, is more comfortable with Fae than with humans, we can see this in ACOMAF, she does not like eating human food, she is hyperaware of all of the differences between being fae and being human.
and 2. Feyre and Lucien have had a conversation about the human war in ACOWAR.  Lucien said he would have fought for the humans if he was alive during the War:
Chapter 3 of ACOWAR: “‘If you’d been alive for the War, would you have fought on their side?  Or fought for the humans?’ ‘I would have been a part of the human-Fae alliance.’ ‘Even if your father wasn’t?’ ‘Especially if my father wasn’t.’”
Maybe he has had some prejudices against humans before but he does explain he would fight for their freedom, he talks about how he disliked their alliance with Hybern.  I always viewed his comments on humans in the first book as him directing his anger and frustration with Feyre and not his idea of humans in general.  He did not like Feyre for killing Andras and he had very little hope when it came to the curse. And after Lucien sends Feyre to capture the Suriel and almost gets her killed, he feels guilty and is also like “Feyre…I thought you would be more mad at me for this” and she is like “nah I get it, I killed your friend.”
Chapter 18 of ACOTAR: “‘You can’t possibly forgive me that easily for sending you into danger.’ ‘No.  And part of me would like nothing more than to wallop you for your lack of warning about the Suriel.  But I understand: I am a human who killed your friend, who now lives in your house, and you have to deal with me.  I understand.’"
People shit on Lucien for that moment but this was when he finally realized who Feyre actually is.  He realizes his mistake in judging Feyre and apologizes.  And this is when their friendship starts to truly develop.  
"‘Tam told me that your first shot was to save the Suriel’s life.  Not your own.’ ‘It seemed like the right thing to do.’ The look he gave me was more contemplative than any he’d give me before.  ‘I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered.’”
And 3. also he met Vassa, Jurian and Feyre’s father and other humans during his mission to find Vassa and an army.
So him having past prejudices towards humans should not and is not Feyre’s issue with him being friends with Vassa and Jurian.    Feyre does not bring that up to him or imply it in her inner dialogue.  It seems like her issue is Lucien found friends outside of the Night Court.
“Friends, I realized.  They had somehow become his friends.  ‘So you would rather stay with them?’”
She almost sounds like she is jealous or confused.  “You would rather stay with them and not with me and the IC?”  It’s almost like she’s thinking “why don’t you love the IC and the Night Court as much as I do?” which is so ironic to me and lacking any self-awareness! You should know why he doesn’t like going to the NC, Feyre. He explains it after this moment in the conversation. 
And I will get to that point later, I want to go in order because Feyre just keeps going downhill:
After Feyre implies that Lucien doesn’t have a home, Lucien then makes a boundary.  
“Lucien stared at me, long and hard.  ‘Happy Solstice to you, Feyre.’”
He is saying, “I am done with this conversation, I do not want to talk to you anymore, I am leaving.”  
“He turned toward the foyer, but I grabbed his arm to halt him.  The corded muscle of his forearm shirted beneath the fine silk of the sapphire jacket, but he made no move to shake me off.  ‘I didn’t mean that.  You have a home here.  If you want it.’”
And Feyre does try to apologize and correct herself because she knows she was wrong for basically implying he doesn’t have a home but she is cutting over this line Lucien drew.  You can tell Lucien does not like it when she grabs him and forces him to stop leaving.
He does not want to talk to her about this, and for good reason because when he is like “alright I will continue this conversation” and begins to explain to her the Band of Exiles, she interrupts him, dismisses him, makes fun of him.  
“Lucien studied the sitting room, the foyer beyond and the dining room on its other side.  ‘The Band of Exiles.’ ‘The what?’ ‘That’s what we call ourselves.  The Band of Exiles.’ ‘You have a name for yourselves.’  I fought my incredulous tone. He nodded.  ‘Jurian isn’t an exile.’ Vassa, yes.  Lucien, two times over now. ‘He can call himself whatever he likes.’ But I asked, ‘and what, exactly, does this Band of Exiles plan to do?  Host events?  Organize party planning committees?’”
Frustration 1 with her saying, “what is the band of exiles planning to do?  Organize party planning committees?” Two pages ago there was a whole conversation and inner dialogue about how there has been no governing in the southern human lands and that Vassa and Jurian have a vision for the future and want to change, they are planning to actually do something for the humans and the land you used to live in as a human.
“[Vassa and Jurian] both trying to lead the humans who occupied the sliver of land at the southernmost end of Prythian.  Left ungoverned for so long.  Far too long. “‘Mercifully, their vision for the future of the human territories is mostly aligned.’”
and frustration 2. He was trying to explain to you his genuine feelings and struggles!
“I made friends who have something in common with me, who appreciate me,” and she interrupts him and she makes fun of him for it!  It sucks!
The Band of Exiles is a stupid name, I love Lucien but I do cringe whenever I hear that name.  And they have always had this back-and-forth banter and crude jokes with each other, but this is a terrible moment to joke around because Lucien is trying to explain his feelings and his reasons, but she’s just being dismissive.
Also another point: her looking down at him for having a group name.  She also has a group name with her friends.  The Court of Dreams, the Inner Circle.  And those aren’t any less cheesy, y'all, I’m sorry, I said it. 🤷‍♀️
Another thing that is so goddamn frustrating to me is he is like “these are all the reasons why I don’t like being in the Night Court.”  1. He can’t stand to be in the same room as Elain, he is upset that she is avoiding him.  2. He doesn’t like getting charity from her and Rhys.  And 3. he also hates how Feyre and Rhys ruined his chance of going back to the Spring Court because of the way she used him to get revenge, and the way Rhys acted with Tamlin when he visits.
“‘I don’t have anywhere else to go.  You ruined any chance I have of going back to Spring.  Not to Tamlin, but to the court beyond his house.  Everyone either believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicit in your deceit.’  ‘I can’t stand to be in the same room as [Elain] for more than two minutes.  I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back…' ‘…Tamlin sent it to our manor yesterday.  My clothes.  My belongings.  All of it.’”
And Feyre acknowledges this.  But she doesn’t feel guilty despite seeing how upset it made Lucien, how it so negatively impacted him.
“‘But the blame for that behavior was not on Tamlin’s shoulders alone.  I’d created that rift.  Ripped it apart with my own two hands. I didn’t quite feel guilty enough to warrant apologizing for it.  Not yet.  Possibly not ever.”
She can still hold resentment towards Tamlin but why can’t she apologize for how it affects Lucien?  I really dislike Feyre and Rhys because of this, and regardless of this making them look inconsiderate and thoughtless, I think this makes her and Rhys look like bad rulers.  Lucien is like, "this affected me negatively, but it’s also going to affect you.  And probably Prythian.  This was a bad call on your part."
“‘Why?’ ‘Perhaps it had something to do with your mate’s visit the other day.’ ‘Rhys didn’t involve you in that.’ ‘He might as well have…your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male.’ ‘I can’t say I’m particularly sorry that he did.’ ‘You will need Tamlin as an ally before the dust has settled.  Tread carefully.’ “I didn’t want to think about it, consider it, today.  Any day.”
Feyre just dismisses it.  She does not want to consider what Lucien is saying.  
The one thing I will sort of applaud Feyre for is when she tells Elain that Lucien is a good male after he leaves.
“‘He brought you a present.’ ‘And that entitles him to my time, my affections?’ ‘No.  But he is a good male.’  Despite our harsh words.  Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit.  ‘He cares for you.’”
However, she is lashing out at Elain because she’s frustrated with the conversation she just had and is upset that she was in the wrong.  
“I know I wasn’t truly angry with her, not angry at anyone but myself, but I said, ‘You couldn’t say a single word to him?  A pleasant greeting?’”
Feyre is misdirecting because she does not want to think about her mistakes.
I have some issues with Elain, it’s very true that she doesn’t owe anything to Lucien just because she’s his mate, I think it would be better for her to stop avoiding Lucien and actually say her feelings.  But I’m talking about Feyre in this video, I can make a Lucien and Elain video later.
I don’t know, Feyre has really gone downhill for me after ACOWAR.  You can still like her but I know I’m not the only one who dislikes her now and Feyre’s mistakes and biases and the way she hurts people cannot be ignored.  
Idk what else to say besides Lucien. Deserves. Better.
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soupy-sez · 1 year
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Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys during the Golden Rose Festival in Montreux, Switzerland ca. May, 1987, © Duncan Raban [X]
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Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son
BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)
It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.
A Tale as Old as Time.
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The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.
The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.
The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.
Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.
This was happily ever after, a dream come true.
It should have been.
Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.
“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”
The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"
“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."
"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"
"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."
Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."
Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."
I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?
The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."
His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.
"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"
Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.
Love.
"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.
"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"
Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"
"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."
Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.
"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."
"I never knew my mother."
"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."
Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."
There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.
Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.
Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.
"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.
The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"
He received no answer.
“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”
Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.
“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”
Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.
Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.
Did my mother truly…?
“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”
“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.
The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.
A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.
Wouldn’t that be something?
"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."
The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.
He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.
“Thank you, Spade.”
Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.
A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.
And what a wonderful dream it was.
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getmuscular · 4 months
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theunderestimator-2 · 11 months
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Smiling goths: Andrew Eldritch & Patricia Morrison of the Sisters Of Mercy breaking character while in the audience of Montreux Rock Festival in Switzerland, back in 1988, as captured by Andre Csillag, Bertrand Alary & Markus Merz.
The Sisters Of Mercy - Lucretia (Golden Rose Festival, Montreaux, Switzerland 14.05.88): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6OCJMaVS9A
(via & via)
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heliomanteia · 3 months
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I looked at how they depicted Olympus in that last episode. You know, trip to Olympus. Percy's biggest whoa! in the entire book. Then I went back to reread description from the TLT book and:
From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces-a city of mansions-all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rosebushes. I could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other. It was an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn’t in ruins. It was new, and clean, and colorful, the way Athens must’ve looked twenty-five hundred years ago.
&
My trip through Olympus was a daze. I passed some giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at me from their garden. Hawkers in the market offered to sell me ambrosia-on-a-stick, and a new shield, and a genuine glitter-weave replica of the Golden Fleece, as seen on Hephaestus-TV. The nine muses were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered-satyrs and naiads and a bunch of goodlooking teenagers who might’ve been minor gods and goddesses. Nobody seemed worried about an impending civil war. In fact, everybody seemed in a festive mood. Several of them turned to watch me pass, and whispered to themselves.
Well...
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Does this look like a colorful Ancient Greek city to you. This is not even Ancient Greek architecture.
It's on screen for exactly 6 seconds before we cut to Zeus' domain, which looks like a boring platform with a number of similar-looking stone-cut thrones. That's it. That's the entire "daze" of the show.
The entire place is empty too. There's no one but Percy. There are no muses, or minor gods, or demigods, or literally anyone there.
They drained the fun out of Mount goddamn Olympus.
P. S. I'm just reminding you that the TLT movie Riordan hates with such burning passion made MO resemble Athenian Parthenon. Like it's still gloomy as hell but it looks Greek:
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stalkerofthegods · 5 months
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Apollo Cheat sheet
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God of - prophecy and oracles, Music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young, divine distance, fertility, knowledge, dancing, wolves, locust, doorways, mice, entrances, foreigners, happy travels, light, omens, averting evil and harm, boundaries, and borders, laurels, mildews, the god who punishes and destroys, he helps and wards off evil, he protects the flocks and cattle, the foundation of towns and the establishment of civil constitutions, protection of young boys, god of purification, he’s also a Psychopomp.
Symbols- The lyre, Silver bow & arrows, Dolphins, Swans, Crows, Ravens, Lions, Wolves, Wolves, Mice, Griffins, Hawks, Snakes, Laurel wreath, Fire/flame, The sun/sunlight, Tripod, Apples 
Incense/scents - Bay, Frankincense, Cypress, Clove, Cinnamon, Mugwort, Myrrh, hythincath, Rays of light radiating from his head, Branch of laurel, Wreath, amber, myrrh, lily of the valley, frankinscences, orange, lemongrass, marjoram
Colors • orange and yellow, red, gold and pure white blue, pink (means healing) purple and green (associated with the Oracle)
Herbs• Palm Tree, Apple Tree, Poplar Tree, Mistletoe, cinnamon, myrrh, bay leafs, sunflowers and red roses, oak wood, cypress (his veey dear friend ((not a lover or crush))), mint, heliotrope, Goldenseal, Date Palm, orange, lemongrass, marjoram
elements • his element is light
Day, month and festivals• Yule, Midsummer, May, sunday, his festivals are Noumenia, Delphinia, Thargelia, Apatouria, Pyanepsia, Asklepia (maybe), Pandia (maybe)
Patron of - medicine, mental health, physical health, therapy, the alphabet/words, defender of herds and flocks, justice, prophecy, and mental and moral purity, herdsmen and shepherds, anything in the medical field.
What I resonate with him • resseces pieces (I forgot why),  Raven, lyre, lemonade, yellow, sun, bob Ross, painting, singing, humming, melody, Oracle’s, prophecies, knowledge, Purification, suns/ stars  
Crystals•Sunstone, Citrine, Carnelian, Clear Quartz, Pyrite, Selenite, Lapis Lazuli
His sacred items - Bow and arrows; lyre; the wreath of laurel leaves (he wears that which is to be understood as Daphne’s hair.) 
Planet - The sun 
Tarot card- the sun, the chariot
Number - 7 
Animals - Wolf, griffin, dolphins, Swans, foxes, roe deer, swans, cicadas, hawks, ravens, crows, foxes, mice, and snakes
Signs he's reaching out• Significant Dream Encounters of him, Frequent Solar Imagery, Increased Interest in the Arts, Strong Connection to Healing, seeing his Symbols and Animals, having  Prophetic Experiences, finding yourself seeking the truth all of the sudden, Attraction to Light and Warmth
What u could put on his alter • Sun water, Wine (diluted with pure water), Milk, Olive oil, Herbal teas, Honey, honey cakes, Orange and lemon pastries, Lamb meat,  goat meat, Fruits, Cheeses, Wheat, Breads, Golden objects (ex- such as gold bowls, gold wine cups, flakes of gold), Bows and arrows (real or fake), art, Images of the sun, All musical instruments, (especially stringed instruments), Wolf imagery, dolphin imagery, Any images of birds (especially crows and swans), Yellow, gold, and white candles, Incense he likes. He likes his alters Neat, clean, not cluttered, orderly, surround him with who he loves (ex- past lovers, Leto, artemis) , add images of wolves, mice, and ravens, Wine, incense, gifts of solar imagery, oranges 
Other titles of apollon• ABAEUS/ Abaios (derived from the town of Abae in Phocis),
ACERSE′COMES/Akersekomês (Apollo expressive of his beautiful hair which was never cut or shorn.) ACE′SIUS/ Akesios (surname of Apollo, under which he was worshipped in Elis, This surname, which has the same meaning as akestôr and alexikakos as the god of averter of evil), ACESTOR/Akestôr (A surname of Apollo which characterises him as the god of the healing art, or in general as the averter of evil, like akesios), ACTIACUS (a surname of Apollo, derived from Actium, AEGLE′TES/Aiglêtês (that is, the radiant god), AGE′TOR/Agêtôr (a surname given to several gods, example is Zeus at Lacedaemon) AGO′NIUS/Agônios (a surname or epithet of several gods, like Zeus), AGRAEUS/Agraios (the hunter a surname of Apollo After he had killed the lion of Cithaeron), AGYIEUS/Aguieus (a a title describing him as the protector of the streets and public places), ALEXI′CACUS/ Alexikakos (the averter of evil, is a surname given by the Greeks to several deities like Zeus.), AMAZO′NIUS/ Amazonios, AMYCLAEUS/Amuklaios, ARCHE′GETES/Archêgetês (A surname of Apollo, under which he was worshipped in several places, as at Naxos in Sicily), Megara (The name has reference either to Apollo as the leader and protector of colonies, or as the founder of towns in general, in which case the import of the name is the same as theos patroôs.),  BOEDRO′MIUS/ Boêdromios (the helper in distress), CARNEIUS/ Karneiosx, CATAE′BATES/Kataibatês (invoked by this name to grant a happy return home, katabasis (to those who were travelling abroad), CHRYSAOR/Chrusaôr) (The god with the golden sword or arms), CLA′RIUS/ Klarios (derived from his celebrated temple at Claros in Asia Minor), CO′RYDUS/Korudos (from the temple eighty stadia from Corone, on the sea-coast),  CY′NTHIUS and CY′NTHIA/Kunthia and Kunthios (surnames of Artemis and Apollo from island of Delos, which is their birthplace), DAPHNAEUS and DAPHNAEA/Daphnaia and Daphnaios (surnames of Artemis and Apollo), DECATE′PHORUS/ Dekatêphoros (that is, the god to whom the tenth part of the booty is dedicated), DE′LIUS and DE′LIA/ Dêlios and Dêlia or Dêlias (surnames of Apollo and Artemis respectively), DELPHINIUS and DELPHI′NIA/ Delphinia (a surname of Artemis at Athens & The masculine form Delphinius is used as a surname of Apollo), EPACTAEUS or EPA′CTIUS/ Epaktaios or Epaktios (the god worshipped on the coast, was also used as a surname of Poseidon in Samos) EPIBATE′RIUS/ Epibatêrios (the god who conducts men on board a ship), EPICU′RIUS/ Epikourios (the helper),
EUTRESITES/Eutrêsitês (derived from Eutresis, where he had a ancient Oracle), GALA′XIUS/Galaxios a (from Boeotia, derived from the stream Galaxius),
HEBDOMA′GETES/Hebdomagetês (was derived from the fact of sacrifices being offered to him on the seventh of every month, the seventh of some month which became the god's birthday), HECAERGUS/Hekaergos (same meaning as Hecaerge in the case of Artemis),HY′LATUS/Hulatos (derived from the town of Hyle in Crete, which was sacred to him), INTONSUS/unshorn, (surname of Apollo and Bacchus showing the eternal youth of these gods, beacuse the Greek youths allowed their hair to grow until they attained the age of manhood), ISME′NIUS/Ismenios (A surname of Apollo at Thebes), ISO′DETES/Isodetêg (the god who binds all equally, is also used as a surname of Pluto),I′XIUS/Ixios (derived from a district of the island of Rhodes which was called Ixiae or Ixia.), LAPHRAEUS/Laphraios (a surname of Apollo at Calydon), LEUCA′DIUS/ Leukasios (a son of Icarius and Polycaste, and a brother of Penelope and Alyzeus. Leucas was believed to have derived its name from him), LIBYSTI′NUS, LOE′MIUS/Loimios (the deliverer from plague),
LO′XIAS/Loxias (derived by some from his intricate and ambiguous oracles), LYCE′GENES/Lukêgenês (describing him either as the god born in Lycia, or as the god born of light), LYCEIUS/Lukeios (the meaning is not quite certain, some derive it from lukos, a wolf, so that it would mean "the wolf-slayer;" others from lukê, light, according to which it would mean "the giver of light;"), LY′CIUS/Lukios (the Lycian, a surname of Apollo, who was worshipped in several places of Lycia),
LYCO′REUS/Lukôreus (A surname of Apollo perhaps in the same sense as Lyceius), MALEATES/Maleatês  (surname of Apollo, derived from cape Malea, in the south of Laconia),MARMARINUS/Marmarinos (the god of marble), MALLOEIS and MELUS/Mêlos (A son of Manto, from which the sanctuary of Apollo Malloeis in Lesbos was believed to have derived its name), MOIRA′GETES/Moiragetês (the guide or leader of fate, occurs as a surname of Zeus and Apollo at Delphi) MUSA′GETES/MUSAE (?), NO′MIUS/Noumios (surname of divinities protecting the pastures and shepherds sheared with Apollo, Pan. Hermes, and Aristaeus) ONCAEUS/Onkaios (a surname of Apollo derived from Oncesium on the river Ladon in Arcadia), PAEAN/Paian, Paiêôn or Paiôn (meaning "the healing," however, used also in the more general sense of deliverer from any evil or calamity, PAGASAEUS/ Pagasaios/the Pagasaean, from Pegasus, or Pegasae, (town in Thessaly, uses the surname of Apollo there.), PALATI′NUS, (surname of Apollo at Rome), PARNO′PIUS/Paruopios (the expeller of locusts) paruôps (a surname of Apollo, under which he had a statue on the acropolis at Athen), PARRHA′SIUS/Parrastos (A surname of Apollo, who had a sanctuary on Mount Lyceius, meaning “the helper”, PATAREUS/Patareus (derived from the Lycian town of Patara, where the god used to spend the six winter months in every year), PHILE′SIUS/Philêsios (surname of Apollo at Didyma, where Branchus was said to have founded a sanctuary of the god, and to have introduced his worship) PHOEBUS/ Phoibos (the shining, pure or bright, occurs both as an epithet and a name of Apollo), PHY′XIUS/Phuzios (the god who protects fugitives, also occurs as a surname of Zeus in Thessaly), PY′THIUS/Puthios the Pythian, from Pytho (the ancient name of Delphi, often occurs as a surname of Apollo), SALGANEUS/Salganeus (a surname of Apollo, derived from the town of Salganeus in Boeotia), SARPEDONIUS and SARPEDO′NIA/Sarpêdonia (a surname of Artemis, derived from cape Sarpedon in Cilicia, where she had a temple with an oracle, The masculine Sarpedonius occurs as a surname of Apollo in Cilicia.) SMINTHEUS/Smintheus (a surname of Apollo, which is derived by some from sminthos, a mouse, and from the town of Sminthe in Troas), SPO′DIUS/Spodios (a surname of Apollo at Thebes, derived from spodos, ashes, because his altar consisted of the ashes of the victims which had been sacrificed to him.), TEGYRE′IUS/Tegurêios (a surname of Apollo, derived from the town of Tegyra in Boeotia. where, according to some traditions, the god had been born), TELMI′SSIUS/Telmissios (a surname of Apollo derived from the Lycian town of Telnissus or Telmessus),TEMENITES/Temenitês (a surname of Apollo, derived from his sacred temenus in the neighbourhood of Syracuse), THEOXE′NIUS/Theoxenios (a surname of Apollo and Hermes), THYMBRAEUS/Thumbraios (A surname of Apollo, derived from a place in Troas called Thymbra, where he had a temple in which Achilles was wounded, or from a neighboring hill of the same name), ZOSTERIUS and ZOSTE′RIA/Zôstêria (a surname of Athena among the Epicnemidian Locrians, The masculine form Zosterius occurs as a surname of Apollo in Attica, on the slip of land stretching into the sea between Phaleron and Sunium)
Epithets•Abaeus, Apollo Acesius, Acestor, Acraephiaeus Apollo, Acraephius Apollo, Actiacus Apollo, Apollo Actiacus, Apollo Aegletes, Agetor, Agonius, Agraeus, Agyieus, Alexicacus,Amazonius, Anextiomarus, Aphetor Apollo, Aphetorius Apollo, Apollo Musagetes, Apollo Soranus, Apollo Apotropaeus, Apulu, Archegetes, Argyrotoxus Apollo, Apollo Articenens, Apollo Averruncus, Apollo Clarius, Apollo Coelispex, Apollo Culicarius, Apollo Cynthius, Apollo Cynthogenes, Delius Apollo, Apollo Delius, Apollo Delphinius, Apollo Didymaeus, Apollo Epicurius  Apollo Galaxius, Apollo Genetor, Hecaërgus Apollo, Apollo Hecebolus, Hekatos, Helius Apollo, Apollo Helius, Apollo Iatromantis, Apollo Iatrus, Apollo Ismenius, Kourotrophos, Apollo Leschenorius, Leucadius, Apollo Loxias, Apollo Lycegenes, Lyceus, Apollo Lycoctonus, Manticus Apollo, Apollo Medicus, Apollo Nomius, Apollo Nymphegetes, Paean (god), Apollo Paean, Apollo Parnopius, Apollo Patroüs, Apollo Phanaeus, Ptoion, Ptous, Pythius Apollo, Apollo Pythius, Apollo Smintheus, Apollo Sosianus, Thyraeus, Virotutis. (I’m not gonna put who, why or what the epithets are, cut me some slack 😔)
Equivalents• Abru (Berber), Horus & Ra (Egyptian), Aplu (Etruscan), Helios (Greek), Apollo & Janus (Roman), Nergal (Aplu Enlil) (Semitic)
Offerings•  Candles (he’s the god of light), Paint brushes/paints, Canvases, Colored pencils, markers, crayons, Collages, Journals, Art books, Art prints, Anything you mad, Sculptures, Zines, Stickers, Any art supplies, Music boxes, Records, CDs,Cassettes, Record players,radios, MP3, Headphones, Music posters, Band merch, Instruments (especially String instruments), Dance shoes, Concert tickets, CD book holders, Sun and Light imagery, Sunscreen, Aloe for sunburns, Golden objects, Matches, Candles, Sunflowers/sunflower seeds, First aid kits, Medicine, Pain relievers, Band - aids, Ice/heat packs, Rice socks, face Masks, Aloe, Ambulance toy cars,Adaptive aids, Darts, Bow and arrows, Arrow quiver, Dart board, Targets used in archery, Bullseye used in archery, Snake skins, Snake imagery (ex - Python), Laurels, Bay leaves (because of Daphne), Palm trees (based on his birth myth), Ravens/Crows related things,  Crow feathers, Cattle/turtles (related to Hermes birth myth), Swans (the animals Pull His chariot), Hyacinths (Hyacinthus is his past lover), Locks of hair, Vanilla flavored/scented things , Honey, Sunny D drink, Lemons/lemon juice, Oranges/orange juice, Citrus, Water, chocolate milk (UPG),  molten orange-scented wax cube used on an oil burner, The first bite of every meal (keep a tea plate close by at mealtimes), Pot Pourri, visit a clairvoyant, Welcome foreigners, teach others your own culture/language, make sure foreigners are able to find helpful resources and social life in your community, Make sure the street outside your house is clean and secure, Resin, Sun-shaped cookies or cakes, Wine, Golden cakes, Golden raisins.
Devonatal- Donate to medical charities, Support beginner indie artists and musicians, Sing to Him, Play musical instruments for Him, Hold dance parties in his honor, Make a playlist for Him and listen to it, Read poetry to Him, Take care of your mental health in his honor, take your medicine in his honor, Try/do archery in his honor, Try/do different types of divination (ex- Tarot/Oracle decks, Pendulums, Rune stones, Charm casting supplies, Crystal balls, Scrying bowls, Cookie fortunes, Tea leaves), Try and wake up early and watch the sun rise, Go for a walk and feel the warmth from the sun, Let more sunlight into your home/room, Learn a musical instrument, learn how to sing, Learn simple medical care (ex- CPR), research his family in his honor,  research Apollon, Attend pride, advocate for  LGBT+ rights, Wear yellow clothing in his honor, wear orange clothing in his honor, Honor Leto and Artemis in his honor, Pray to Him/ speak to Him often (ex- for guidance, healing/good health, and new inspiration, protection, improvement in your mental health, fertility, ecstasy, for everything going well in the health aspect),  Dance and sing to your favorite songs or songs you’d think He would like,  Throw a feast in His honor, Support/donate to your local Hospital in his honor, Exercise in his honor, Get vaccinated in his honor, Get STI tested in his honor, practice Self care in his honor, Keep a first aid kit at home/in your car in his honor, Learn about alternative medicine in his honor, Advocate for accessible in his honor, Advocate for disability rights in his honor, Volunteer at a hospital in his honor, Give blood/plasma in his honor; Volunteer at a retirement home in his honor, Learn about anatomy/biology/nutrition in his honor, Learn about health conditions/rare disorders in his honor, Eat healthy for your body in his honor, Help fund surgeries if you can in his honor, Trip sit for someone in his honor, Listen to your body when it needs something in his honor , Sunbathe in his honor, Wear sunscreen in his honor,  Start a garden in his honor, Make sun water in his honor, Music Go to a concert/show, Listen to music in his honor, Make a playlist for someone you love in his honor, dance in general in his honor, Sing in general in his honor, Support local bands in his honor, Explore new music in his honor, Daily tarot card/rune stones sessions in his honor, Make an oracle deck in his honor, Give divination readings in his honor, do Shadow work in his honor , do Colormancy in his honor, Make something in his honor, Draw in his honor, paint in his honor, craft in his honor, Color something for him, Make a zine in his honor, Go see a play in his honor, Get a tattoo in his honor, Throw darts in his honor, Use a slingshot in his honor, Go to a shooting range in his honor, follow and support artist/poet YouTubers and their social media, Check in with your neighbors, do Photography (painting with light), light a candle in his honor because he’s the of…light!
Crystal•Sunstone, Citrine, Carnelian, Clear Quartz, Pyrite, Selenite, Lapis Lazuli, amber, calcite (only the color honey/yellow), quartz (rutilated or clear), rose quartz.
Parentage• Zues and Leto 
Siblings• his full sibling was his twin Artemis, His half siblings were Athena, Hermes, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Ares, Hephaestus and Persephone, Heracles, Ares, Perseus, Hebe, Aphrodite, Athena, Some Muses, Eileithyia.
Works well with• people who are respectful, and are honest, and not boastful. 
Jewelry • friendship bracelets
Hates• saying that your better than him, (too boastful), being to stubborn to learn (he is the god of knowledge.), and anything contradicting his godlyness 
Mortal or immortal • immortal.
Zodiac • Leo. 
Curses• Sickness, and often seeing yourself lying, and in trouble.
Blessings• your healthy and protection and purification. 
Vows/omans• he swears he will be Hermes best friend, and that he will never marry (he still has godpouses, pretty frequently, just as a boyfriend) because he swore he would never because he couldn't choose between all the Muses.
Morals• Morally grey.
Courting• he is unmarried. 
Past lovers & crushes• Admetus (a crush), Daphne (rejected him and he fell so in love she had to run away and turn into a tree..), all the nine muses (couldn’t choose so decided to never unwed), Cyrene (a crush), Evadne (a lover who bore him a child.), Rhoeo (bore him a child and made him raise it..) Ourea (had a crush on Apollo and they hooked up on his exile and bore him a kid), Thero, Hyrie or Thyrie (said they were lovers but he made them suicidal so..idk..). Hecuba (bore the child who made Apollo kill Achilles.), Coronis (bore him  Asclepius), Creusa (bore him a child and left him to die and then to be raised by a priestess of Apollo.), Hyacinthus (his most dear male lover.),  Cyparissus (a dear friend but still a honorable mention.), Admetus (a crush), Branchus, Adonis (poly with apollon and Aphrodite), Helenus, Hippolytus of Sicyon,Hymenaios, god of marriage hymns, Iapis, Phorbas, minthe (who he turned into mint) 
Personality• He has a quick temper, He’s very energetic, cheerful, wise, honest and kind, but sometimes he could be jealous (from what I've heard.)
Fact• He was the god of so many things that even the Ancient Greeks got confused, Apollo was temporarily stripped of his immortal power by Zeus – twice (maybe y’all might have a little more in common with being atleast human once!), he tried to over throw his father Zeus once! (He failed.)
Roots• Greek mythology, born at Delos in Cyclades archipelago.
Appearance in astral or gen• depicted as a handsome, beardless youth with long hair and wears a wreath and branch of laurel, bow and quiver of arrows, usually accompanied with a raven, and holding a lyre.
Children• Acraepheus, Aeneus, Agamedes, Agreus, Amphiaraus, Amphissus, Amphithemis, Anius, Apis, Apollonis, Arabius, Aristaeus, Asclepius, Borysthenis, Cephisso, Chariclo, Cinyras, Coronus, Cycnus, Delphus, Dius, Dorus, Dryops of Oeta, Eleuther, Epidaurus, Eriopis, Erymanthus, Eumolpus, Eurydice, Eurynome, Hilaeira, Hymen (god), Ialemus, Iamus, Idmon (Argonaut), Ion, Ismenus, Korybantes, Laodocus, Lapithes (hero), Linus (Argive), Linus, Linus of Thrace, Lycomedes, Lycorus, Melaneus of Oechalia, Melite, Miletus, Mopsus, Naxos, Oaxes, Oncius, Orpheus, Phemonoe, Philammon, Philander, Phoebe, Phylacides, Polypoetes, Scylla, Syrus, Tenerus, Tenes, Troilus, Trophonius, Zeuxippus of Sicyon.
Pet• the swans pulling his chariot called the “singers of Apollo” or just “birds of Apollo”
Status• Greek mythology god, in the big theoi, not a Demi god. 
Prayers•
Prayer to Lord Apollon for Help with Divination
Hear me, Foreseeing Apollon, Son of Indomitable Zeus and Gentle Leto, Brother to Far-Shooting Artemis. He who speaks of truth, If I have ever revelled in your sunlight, accept this prayer, Apollon Leader of Fate, I ask you to be with me during this divination and to guide my cards with your knowledge, I ask for your favour with a token of my praise, I offer to you (offering)- @praise-to-the-theoi
To Lord Apollon when taking medication 
Hear me, healing Apollon, Father to Soothing Asklepios. He who controls both plague and healing, If I have ever honoured you, please accept this prayer, Shining Apollon, Please allow me to be safe when taking this medication, to aid it in its effectiveness, and to reduce the likelihood of negative side effects. I ask for your favour with a token of my praise, and I take this medication in your honour. -https://www.tumblr.com/praise-to-the-theoi
Prayer to Artemis and Apollon 
Praise today, O Lord Apollo and Lady Artemis, rulers upon the Sun and Moon. The Celestial Twins, on this date, join each other in the sky, shining upon us their divine light and presence. Praise the children of Great Zeus and Leto; Hail Lady Artemis, the oldest daughter, who helped her mother at birth. Godess of the hunt, divine virgin, patroness of girls, their childhood and innocence.  Hail Apollon, youngest son, born by his sister's hand. God of the plages and sickness. Patron of the arts, music and poetry. May they raise their bows and guide us towards their light. - serotoninbetweenpages
Prayer with his epithets in it-
Let us hymn Paean the great god, Apollo; Immortal, gloriously formed, unshorn, soft-haired, Stern-hearted, king, delighting in arrows, giver of life, Joyous, laughing, slayer of giants, sweet-hearted, Son of Zeus, slayer of dragons, lover of the laurel, Sweet of speech, of ample might, far-shooter, giver of hope, Creator of animals, divine, Jove-minded, giver of zeal, Mild, sweet-spoken, sweet-hearted, gentle-handed, Slayer of beasts, blooming, charmer of the spirit, soft-speaking, Shooter of arrows, desirable, healer, charioteer, Weaver of the world, Clarian, strong-hearted, father of fruits, Son of Leto, pleasant, delighting in the lyre, resplendent, Lord of the mysteries, prophet, magnanimous, thousand-shaped, Lover of the bow-string, wise, stiller of grief, sober,Lover of community, common to all, taking thought for all, benefactor of all, Blessed, making blessed, Olympian, dweller on the hills, Gentle, all-seeing, sorrowless, giver of wealth, Saviour from trouble, rose-coloured, man-breaker, path-opener, Glittering, wise, father of light, saviour, Delighting in the dance, Titan, initiator, revered, Chanter of hymns, highest, stately, of the height, Phoebus, purifier, lover of garlands, cheerer of the spirit, Utterer of oracles, golden, golden-complexioned, golden-arrowed, Lover of the lyre, harper, hater of lies, giver of the soul, Swift-footed, swift-voiced, swift of vision, giver of seasons. Let us hymn Paean the great god, Apollo.   
- Epigram from Book 9 of the Greek Anthology, translated by W.R. Paton (1916-18)
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Links/websites/sources •
@praise-to-the-theoi
ofbloodandfaith
Reddit · r/Hellenism5 comments  ·  1 year agosimple offerings for apollo? : r/Hellenism
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo#Children https://www.thoughtco.com/roman-equivalents-of-greek-gods-4067799https://www.reddit.com/r/Hellenism/comments/d20s5v/would_amber_be_an_appropriate_incense_for_apollo/https://www.reddit.com/r/GreekMythology/comments/du0z4k/did_the_olympian_gods_have_particular_color/https://www.tumblr.com/eldritchhorror06https://www.tumblr.com/themodernwitchsguidehttps://web.pdx.edu/~scarmody/art342/exercise2/index.html#:~:text=Animals%20sacred%20to%20Apollo%20include,foxes%2C%20mice%2C%20and%20snakes.
let the light in and let your truth of loving Apollo shine aswell
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jellycatstuffies · 7 months
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Who is that handsome long red dragon in the Jelly at 25th anniversary display? :O I love him.
That's Festival Dragon! Since Jellycat's 25th anniversary happens to coincide with the Chinese year of the dragon, we are getting three new dragons next year! In addition to that, the Little Dragon will be available as a bag charm and Snow, Rose, Lavender and brand new Golden Dragon will also be available as bag charms!
Festival Dragon
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