#the silver band on his horn is from his mothers; the golden band is a wedding ring!
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New Year, new Sotis design! I tried to play a little more heavily into his Yveltal side, as well as adding some jewellery!
This design is specifically what he looks like as an adult, and I’ve put what he looks like when he’s upset under the cut!
#yea his eyes turn purple when he’s experiencing negative emotions (eg fear sadness anger etc)#it’s actually a reference to the anime - Yveltal’s eyes turn purple when it’s using oblivion wing!#Sotis’ eyes also turn purple when using oblivion wing/soul heart but you’re more likely to see it from emotions!#also the jewellery… oughh the jewellery…#the silver band on his horn is from his mothers; the golden band is a wedding ring!#the earring is a combined present from Darci and Goose (Goose provided the golden heart and Darci provided the Flynium Z!)#the locket has photos of his mothers! he’s very protective over it; he won’t even show you what’s inside unless he trusts you#pokemon#pokemon oc#pokemon fusion#decidueye#yveltal#sotis (oc)#art#OH HE’S ALSO REALLY FLUFFY TO COPE WITH HOW COLD HIS WORLD IS#I think. That’s everything about his design!
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I re-read Crescent City (HoEaB and HoSaB) just to write down all the physical descriptors of all the characters
okay fine, the re-read was also to cure the book hangover
anyway, sharing here for anyone who are interested. This doesn't include bonus chapters
Under-King
I forgot to write this guy down, but iirc basically super tall and rotting
Sabine
Looks late 20s
Long silver blonde hair
Blue eyes (c. 6) Light brown eyes (c. 49)
Corn-silk hair
Narrow Pale face
Slender hands
Narrow shoulders
Danika
Metallic purple painted nails in dire need of manicure.
Silvery blond hair, normally straight silken Sheet, though curled after a whole day of wearing her tight long braid, streaks of amethyst, sapphire and rose
Corn-silk hair
Caramel eyes
Sword strapped on back
Worn leather hilt, ancient leather scabbard
Worn motorcycle jacket
Black boot
Jeans
Vintage band t shirt (Banshee band name)
Lean body
Slim fingers
Slim jaw
Slim shoulder
Pale
Taller than humans
Matching back tattoo
Angular planes face
Horned, grinning wolf tattoo on neck below jaw
Gray wolf small horse sized
Connor
Golden skin
Broad shoulders
Golden stare
Taller than humans
Sensuous mouth
Tristan Flynn (Fae)
Brown eyes
Charming as Hel
Classic Fae beauty
Handsome face
Considerable muscles
Short chestnut hair
Earth magic
Golden-brown skin
Declan (Fae)
Amber eyes
Dark red hair
Red hair
Chiseled jaw
descripted as the "least insane" out of the Ruhn household
Ruhn (Fae)
One side of his raven black hair buzzed, straight black hair flowed to his waist
Striking Blue eyes
Silver hoop through lower lip
Sleeves of tattoos, colorful and beautiful
Line of rings in ear
Black t shirt, dark tight jeans
Black Boots
Muscular
Leather jacket
Strikingly handsome
Golden skinned (but paler than Rhysand)
Starsword; dark blade, black hilt
Power to summon shadows and mist
Pose: slide hands into back pocket of jeans
Formal at Summit: Circlet of gilded birch leaves on head
Burn scars on arms covered with tattoos
Leather jacket
Tattooed throat
Swirling tattoo on pec
Violet-blue eyes
face and posture identical to Rhysand
pointed ears
Hypaxia
Dark head of softly Curling hair
Thick night-dark hair
Dark eyes
Rich brown eyes
Arresting face
Not the cultivated beauty of a movie star, beauty in it's rawest form
Large brown eyes
Full mouth
High cheekbones
Near perfect symmetry
Radiating cool serenity and awareness
Glowing brown skin
Brown hands
Looks like humans
Queen aura
Curvy
Young
Sleek black curls
Sometimes tied back in a bun
Elegant brown face
Luxurious dark gaur falling in soft curls down to her Slim waist
Brown skin that glowed as id the moonlight ran beneath it
Large dark eyes that noticed too much
Full, inviting mouth
Lovely smile
Bryce
silky curtain of Wine-red hair, with slightly curled ends down to the top of her ass
Pointed ear
Freckled golden skin
Tan
Amber eyes
Whiskey colored eyes
Human (identical to her mother's) face; freckles
High cheekbones
Full mouth
Four inch white heels
Generously curved
Big boobs
Spectacular ass
Taller than average
Thick angry Scar on the inside left thigh, from being shredded open and stapled shut
Twilight ombre nails, pink to night
Red nails
Worn leather jacket with feminine colorful script
Heavier than she looks, tan skin covering more muscle than Hunt thought
Sleek, unnervingly perfect thigh
Silky skin
Long, delicate fingers
White Skintight dress
Tight Jeans and cream colored revealing sweater
Black leather ankle boots
Star, like an old Scar, white mark
Freckled, golden-tan skin
Long, muscled legs
Ample hips
Thick Scar curving along her thigh
Whiskey colored eyes
Super Powerful and Special Magic Starborn Princess
Tendrils of Horn tattoo
Lean, Long expanse of golden leg
Hunt
Black battle suit (built in medkit), intricate leather scales, black gloves, twin swirds peeking above his shoulders, boots, black hilted knife sheathed on thigh
Predator, Killer, Monster
Angular dark eyes
Black eyes
Onyx eyes
Not black at all, but a shade of darkest brown
Gray wings
Striking, handsome face Full of powerful lines and sharp cheekbones
Golden-brown face
Light brown skin
Skull-faced helmet, silver painted skull
Entwined thorns tattoo across brow, most hidden by his hair, but no concealing the thin black band
SPQM tattoo on right wrist
Shoulder length Black hair slipping Over face
Dark, shoulder length hair
Sable strands gleaming like black silk
Broad shoulders
Towers over Bryce
Strong hands
Strong Jaw
Pretty
Stray locks of his dark hair curled around the edges [of the sunball cap]
Deep gold skin on hands
Strong tan column of his throat
Dark brows
Muscles upon muscles upon muscles
Gold dusted brown skin
Soft Gray t-shirt, black sweats, white sunball cap turned backwards
Powerful build
Tall
Powerful, muscled body
Cut hair shorter last month. Not too short, neatly trimmed to the nape, with only a few pieces in the front still unruly enough to peek through the hole of his sunball hat.
Dark, Angular eyes
Light brown skin
Tharion
Jaw length Auburn hair
Red-brown hair
Light brown eyes
Powerful body
Mer form: partially scaled arms, fingers tipped in sharp grey nails, massive body, gills beneath ears, claw tipped webbed hand, (roughly 2.5 meters tall? size compared to some long creature)
Muscled abdomen
Reddish-brown scales, catching the sun like burnished copper
Long tail
Black stripes slashing through tail, continuing up his torso and along his arms
Aquatic tiger
Bare skin of upper arms and chest heavily tanned
Taloned/talon-tipped hands
Mer form: Scales ripples along his arms and halfway up his torso.
Long Muscular arms
Long fingers
Dark red hair
Haunted, exhausted looking (Hosab)
Long body
Ithan
Powerful form
Onyx rose with 3 claw marks slashed through
Golden-brown hair (longer than the last time she saw him)
Towering, muscled male
Tall
Brown eyes
Gray t shirt pulling across the Considerable expanse of his muscled back
Handsome, charming features
Good looking
Built for speed and agility
Short golden-brown hair
Wolf: horse sized
Brushes hair away from face; longer than it had ever been
Isaiah
White wings
Black silk tie, charcoal business suit
Dark brown skin
Tight brown curls
Brown eyes
Pretty-boy face
Entwined thorns tattoo across brow
SPQM tattoo on right wrist
Naomi
Intense, ballsy, take-no-shit angel
Free (no tattoo)
Harsh planes
Black braided hair
Onyx eyes
Colourfully tattooed hands
Black wings
Sharp chin
Jet-black eyes
Viktoria
Dark haired
Navy suit
Graceful, stunning
Pale green eyes
Stunning green eyes
Halo tattoo
Wraith, graceful, flirty
Long legs
Alabaster hands (white skin)
Pale face
Narrow face
Slightly wrinkled
Justinian
NOT A SINGLE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTOR IN EITHER BOOKS, except that he painted his wings a matte black during the Viper Queen meeting.
Micah
Gorgeous
Unfairly beautiful
Powerful
Snow White wings
Brown eyes
Icy eyes
Long legs
Strands of gold in his hair
Boots, dark jeans
Fury
Long onyx hair tied in a high ponytail that brings out the sharp lines of her light brown face. (Pre death)
Chinlength hair
Sleek bob
Deep set chestnut eyes.
Black leather leggings,
Skintight velvet top
Ass kicking boots
Red lips, straight teeth
Slender
Angular eyes
Appears human
Delicate figure
Angular eyes like Amren
June:
Dark brown skin
Exquisite face
Curling Black hair
Long legs ending in delicate hooves
Sweet and mild
Striped legs
Gently arcing horns, nearly hidden
Curly hair pulled into a coiled bun
Beautiful
Thin but leanly muscled
Graceful, Tall, thin
Large beautiful eyes
Aidas:
Thrumming with dark power
Slender, pale-skinned... pretty boy
Blond hair fell to his shoulders in soft waves, loose yet well cut around his fine boned face.
Eyes like blue opals
Thick, golden eyelashes
Full, sensuous mouth, too white teeth
Slender hands
Black, Closely tailored jacket and pants
Polished leather shoes
Jesiba:
400 yo
Lush female body
Curvy
Flowing Navy dress
Pearls at ears and throat
Cropped Ash blonde hair, cut shorter on the sides, longer on the top
Effortlessly chic and casual
Blonde brows
Face both young and wise, bedroom-soft yet foreboding
Young faced
Full mouth
Pale grey eyes
Silver nails
Autumn King (Fae)
Ancient, cruel Amber eyes
No sign of aging
Long thin nose
Black jeans, black long sleeved t shirt
Beautiful
Tall, muscled
Long Red hair, embers and molten fire
Onyx crown
Einar
Viper Queen
Tall
Moon skinned
Gold jumpsuit
Emerald hoop earrings hanging lower than her chin length bob
Razor sharp bob
Glossy bob
Full lips painted purple so dark it was nearly black
Green eyes, marbled with jade and gold, that slit like a snakes
Well groomed eyebrows
Beauty mark just beneath the outer corner of her eye
Gold painted nails
Long thin canines (snakey)
Snake form: moon white cobra with scales that gleam like opals
Slim
Smokes
Tattoo of a snake twining around a crescent moon on her wrist
Wears only jumpsuits it seems
Blood darker than usual
Syrinx
Chimera
30 pounds (14 kg)
Wiry golden coat
Long tail, tufted with dark hair at the end like a lions
Folded ears
Round, fuzzy head
Wrinkles of fat
Longer hair at neck, not quite a mane
Too big paws ending in birdlike talons
Squishy dog face
Dark eyes
Slightly bigger than a terrier
Stout little body
Pointy teeth
Ember
Mid 40s
Tiny Scar on cheek
A knockout
Long black hair
Freckled skin
Full lips
High cheekbones
Dark depthless eyes
Bryce's face, just different coloring
Slim shoulders
The Embrace silver necklace
Tan
Randall
Attractive
Brown skinned
Black braided hair streaked with silver
Brutal scars
Friendly eyes
Dog tags
Sandriel
Dark haired
Curling hair
Eyes the color of fresh tilled soil
Sharp cruel eyes, death
Thin arms
Full lips
Slim, tall
Pollux:
Golden haired
Tan
Dead cruel smile
Handsome
Cobalt eyes
White wings
Golden skin
Brutal, sadistic
Motherfucker Number One
Pretty-boy face
Flowing golden hair
Thick lashes
High cheekbones
Goddess vibes, still and lovely, like Chtona
The harpy:
Thin
Pale
Dark haired
Jet black hair
Angel
Narrow-featured
Black wings
With a wildness like the western wind
Slim waist
Thin lips
Built Wiry and Long, face Narrow and eyes a bit too large for her features
Baxian Hellhound:
Stone-faced
Black wings
Dark haired
Closely buzzed hair
Brown skinned
Tall and finely muscled
Jet-black, faintly shimmering wings, like a crows feathers
Old Wicked Scar snaking down his neck, forking across the column of his throat, given by hunts lightning.
Obsidian eyes
Tall, lean angel
Natural elegance; not beautiful but striking. Intense and focused
Lightweight black armor of overlapping plates - reptilian version of hunts suit.
Nearly as fall as hunt
Rigelus
Slim
Teenage boy
Lanky
Slender chin
Bony elbow
Fae boy 17 yo appearance
Dark haired
Gangly
A weak facade to veil the ancient monster beneath
Amelie Ravenscroft
Dark hair in a tight braid
Sharp angled face
Gold eyes
Emile
13 yo
Tall, gangly, bony
Small
Sofie
Short brown hair
Nordic descent? (fjords of her homeland)
Pippa
Fanatic
Cold hard armor covering her breast
Golden sun bracketed by a gun and a blade (ophion logo) + red sinking sun above it (lightfall squad).
Brown haired
Freckled
Cormac Donnall (Fae)
As Agent Silverbow; Imperial armor (has cap) (hair peeking from beneath the cap he'd donned)
Handsome
Broad hand
Golden-haired
Towering
Shadow-magic
Fire magic
Tan face, ruggedly good-looking
Void of feeling
(Dead, humorless) Light brown eyes
Thin, tight white sweater over black jeans and combat boots
Blond
Muscled chest
Tattoo of strange symbols encircled his left biceps, black ink
Broad shoulders
Rubbish at pool
Perfect blond hair
Short blond hair
Immaculate blond hair
Unfailingly arrogant angle of his chin
Serious
The Hind
Golden haired
Silver torque around neck
Deer shifter
Beautiful
Amber eyes
Golden eyes
Red lips
Pale face
Polished, knee-high boots
Imperious face
Grey Uniform
Light footsteps
Most beautiful female Ruhn had ever seen
Unscarred, Elegant hands
Gold ring crowned with a square clean-cut Ruby
Upswept chignon
Spitting image of Luna
Regal angle of neck and jaw
Coldly serene as the moon
Beautiful and terrible
In flame: large eyes, swept upwards at the edges
Long legs
Red lips
Slim, manicured fingers
Slender, on the Taller side, delicate frame
Lush hips, full breasts
Mordoc
Hulking
Dark haired
Towering
Muscle bound
Dreadwolf uniform - boatload of silver darts
Golden eyes
Dark claws at fingertips
State between human ans wolf
Scalp gleaming through buzzed hair
Thick fingers
Too long teeth (wolf teeth)
Powerful
Craggy face
Marc
Leopard shifter
All Sleek muscle beneath dark brown skin
Topaz eyes
Celestina
Beautiful
Skin as dark as Onyx
Light brown eyes
Delicate mouth
Patient smile
White wings
Voluptuous, lush-bodied
Tightly Curling Black hair
Curls spilling down her bare arms like a waterfall of night
Silver jewellery, pink and lilac gauzy ethereal robes
Feminine strength and beauty
Barely reaches Hunt's chest
Soft pink nails
Elegant as a swan
Caramel eyes
Ephraim
Handsome
Black hair cut close to his head in a warrior lite fashion
Light brown skin Radiating health and vitality
Dark eyes that noted every person in the room, like a soldier assessing the battlefield
Genuine smile for Celestina
White wings
Toned Powerful body
Thanatos
Tightly curled black hair was Cropped close to his head
Handsome, unsmiling face
Powerful body bedecked in dark, ornate armor
Dark eyes
Prince of death
No slickness or smug arrogance
Wolf lady Mystic Fendyr Alpha
Long chestnut-brown hair
Pale
Too thin
Dark eyes
Face that mightve been pretty if it wasn't so gaunt and Haunted
Dragon lady, Ariadne
Human sized
Hair like darkest iron falling in Curling waves
Delicately featured face
Tan
Burns stuff with touch
Crimson eyes - like boiling blood
Black eyes like coal
Ripples of what seems like red and gold scales Flowing beneath her skin
Curvy
Beautiful
Fae female bodytype
Short, Curvy
Wavy black hair, waistlength
Ample backside
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The End - Chapter 1
(Infinity war AU: Loki lives and leaves the Statesman with Bruce Banner. Multi chapter fic, enjoy the ride babes xo)
taglist: @woahthisguy (ask to be added if u like!)
When Loki woke, part of him still thought that he was on the Statesman. Still aboard that cursed vessel, with smoke filling his lungs and the maddening glare of the stones shining before his eyes. Rays of sunlight filtered into his vision, and he felt broken wood under his fingertips - but part of him still expected to see Thanos’s golden boot step into his vision. Still expected to see his brother, bloodied and bruised, a lifeless body tossed beside him. Expected to hear his last pained scream as the power stone touched his head, to smell the ozone building in the air and to see the final flash of lightning that would signal his brother’s journey into Valhalla.
What he heard was the sound of birds.
Muffled by walls, but there. Birds, nature, the faint sounds of traffic and conversation bleeding in through the ringing in his hears. He opened his eyes, grunting slightly as he felt splintered beams digging into his side from where he fell. A neat hole in the ceiling signalled his entry; he stared up at the familiar sun and sky, and let his eyes fall shut again with a groan.
Midgard.
But not just anywhere in Midgard. He inhaled the musty air, coughing out the dust from his throat. Magic - he could sense it everywhere. It clung to every surface of this place, seeping into the floorboards with a familiar sense of order and learning. Not just magic - sorcery.
Loki sat up. Pulled himself out of the hole he’d created in the floor, and almost buckled under the weight of the familiarity of this place. The Sorcerer’s Home. Where he’d been suspended in animation for over half an hour, only to be dropped onto the marbled floor and told that they were going to see Odin. He remembered Thor’s voice, then. That was one of the last times he’d sounded like himself. Before the Norns had twisted the last few strands of their monstrous tapestry, and brought their world crashing down around them. Around Thor, to put it more aptly. Loki had shed no tears for Odin. Hadn’t felt the same coiled rage in the pit of his stomach as when Frigga had died. But it had signalled the beginning of the End, for them. The beginning of Ragnarok. The twisted path that had dragged them from Midgard to Sakaar to Asgard and finally to a barely held together spaceship crawling through the stars.
And then to oblivion.
Loki flexed his fingers, stepping onto the cold marble floors, and allowed himself a moment of respite. This wasn’t good. Out of the frying pan, and into the proverbial fire. Midgard may have meant refuge for Thor, but not for him.
Voices sounded from outside the doors. Loki stepped quickly, pressing himself against the wall - not that it would do any good. The Sorcerer had sensed them from oceans away, last time. He could pluck him out of thin air if he so chose, and deposit him at his feet. But it felt right, at least. Sensible. Slinking his way in and out of the shadows was what he was used to, and he needed some familiarity right now. Stability in any form; even if it was just a repeated motion from a lifetime that was now obsolete.
“The Avengers broke up. We’re toast.” Smooth, honeyed tones from beyond the door; a voice that could have been roughed with anger, but the edges smoothed down into something more palatable. Stark.
“What do you mean, broke up? Like a band? Like the Beatles?” Another voice sounded off - this one inquisitive, confused, but still with a certain fog - like someone coming out of a long sleep, trying to recount a dream that was fading rapidly. Banner, then.
Loki leaned back against the wall, silently cursing his luck. Of all people he encountered, it had to be Stark. Someone who Loki’s last fond memory of was tossing him out of a window - and even that was marred with the faint blue tint of the mind stone’s power. He couldn’t even enjoy throwing Stark out of that window. Couldn’t even take credit for it, really.
He shifted his fingers again, feeling the familiar steel of his dagger morph into life in his hands. That brought a little comfort, at least. Even if he knew in his heart he wasn’t in much shape to fight off the Avengers right now.
He had Banner to vouch for him - maybe. But Banner didn’t have the same trust in him that Thor had. And Thor wasn’t here to echo that sentiment to his allies, because Thor was dea-
“Thor’s gone.” Banner’s voice resounded off the walls again, subdued and uncertain.
Loki didn’t know why that word suddenly made him so angry.
Gone implied things. It implied uncertainty; that they didn’t know where Thor was, or what had happened to him. Gone implied that Thor could come back. Gone implied hope.
It wasn’t Banner’s fault. He didn’t know any better, didn’t know the full extent of what Thanos could do.
Loki did.
And maybe that’s what drove him out of the shadows, moving just beyond the doorway to stand in the light.
“Thor isn’t gone. He’s dead.” Loki almost winced at his own voice - rough and jagged and far from the silver tongued smoothness he was used to.
But the look on Stark’s face almost made up for it. Alarm creeping into the eyes beneath the sunglasses, a memory of when Loki had last seemed glorious. Unstoppable. A raging inferno fanned by the mind stone, laying waste to Midgard’s streets with an army of monsters at his side. Memories of grand speeches and golden horns. Stark’s hands twitched, grabbing onto a small cord at the collar of his shirt that would probably unfold into some trinket or other, meant to blast him across the room with a quippy one liner to follow it.
Banner’s eyes widened for a moment, but softened just as fast, and he took a few steps forward. Not all the way - he was still too smart to move all the way - but enough. Enough for a placating gesture, at least.
“We don’t know that, Loki. He could’ve escaped, he could’ve-”
“Correction - you don’t know that. I do. Thanos wouldn’t leave someone like him alive.” Loki shook his head, a hollow laugh forcing its way out of his lips. “He was too much of a threat.”
“The Tesseract?” The voice of the sorcerer from his side caused Loki to turn, meeting Strange’s scrutinizing gaze with what he hoped was a mask of steel.
“Thanos has it. And the power stone.”
“Then he’ll be coming for the rest.” One gloved hand drifted idly to the necklace around Strange’s neck, his face setting in grim resignation.
“I’m sorry, am I missing something? Why are we all standing here talking to this guy? Last time I checked, he was working with Thanos, and was very much in favour of - I don’t know, murdering us all?”
Stark finally jarred himself out of whatever train of thought he’d been following, moving forward to grab Banner by the arm - like a mother, reaching out to snatch her children from sticking their hand into a campfire.
“Tony, it’s fine. Well, it’s not fine. But Loki’s with us on this one.” Banner shrugged his shoulders, batting at Stark’s hand with a twinge of embarrassment.
Stark scoffed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.
“So I’m just supposed to trust him because, what? It’s a ‘long story’?”
“Oh, God no. But he is on our side.” Bruce frowned, gesturing at Loki listlessly. “Look, do you think he’d look like that if he was working with Thanos?”
Loki shot him a glare, but tilted his dagger upwards to try and catch a blurred glimpse at his reflection. Even in the unclear mirror, he couldn’t deny that Banner was right. Soot smudged along his cheeks, rimming the glaring red cuts on his face with black. Dark circles stamped under his eyes, there was blood beneath his fingernails. He looked unhinged.
A stretch of the neck, a flex of the fingers, a flash of gold, and he was whole again. The grime still clung to his skin, but it was hidden now, at least. He tilted his chin up, spreading his hands out wide.
“I am not here to pick a fight with you, Stark. Nor any of Midgard. But Thanos must be stopped, and you’re going to need more than the Avengers to do it. You can kill me, or imprison me, but buried beneath that colossal ego of yours, you know you need me.”
Stark’s jaw clenched, and for a few moments Loki expected the flash of a cannon and the impact of a missile hitting his chest. What he got instead was a sigh, tight and constrained, and a small nod in Banner’s direction.
“Fine. But if this blows up in my face, you owe me like...a million cups of coffee.”
Banner shrugged, and the three Midgardian’s continued their discussion.
It wasn’t a discussion Loki wanted to participate in - and by their hunched shoulders and wary looks, it wasn’t one he was privy to, either. Which was just fine by him. He tapped his fingers against his elbows, and wandered about the room.
So many artefacts that he hadn’t paid attention to last time. This room hummed with magic, every table, every chair, every floorboard was steeped in it; like fragranced smoke clinging to a curtain.
He overheard some of the conversation, of course. Talks of a great battle between their Captain America and the Iron Man; a rift between the team that had grown into a chasm - one that strangely he hoped would be mended. Not for their sake, of course; it would just be easier to fight Thanos if they all united as one, and fought together rather than apart, and -
Norns, he was starting to sound like Thor. He shut his eyes, shrugging his shoulders to try and rid himself of the sentiment. It was funny what a few moments of desperation could do to you. The death of his mother, and he worked with Thor again. The death of his father, and he saved a world he swore to hate. The death of his brother, and now he was talking of comradery with the Avengers.
Banner kept casting looks at him from across the room. Worried looks, but not for his own safety - at least, not entirely. Banner looked worried for him, and for some reason that filled him with vitriol, anger that was acidic and spiteful.
Banner thought he was exaggerating. He still saw Thor as a golden hero, unbreakable and untouchable. He didn’t know.
He didn’t know that it was better for Thor to be dead. That when Loki said that Thor’s fate was sealed, it was not out of spite or doubt of Thor’s strength; it was out of hope. Loki would rather kill Thor himself than have him die at the hands of Thanos.
At least Loki’s steel would have been kinder. The flash of silver and the seconds it took for the blood to leave the body would be a mercy, compared to the dazzling pain of the gauntlet. Seconds still felt like seconds, when you were stabbed. The infinity stones stretched those seconds into hours. Loki knew from experience.
Before, he might have relished at the thought of causing Thor pain. Wherever this sentiment had come from, these feelings of care and brotherhood, he wanted them gone. They’d settled on his skin with the dust from Asgard, baked into the clay of his being in the fires of a supernova, watched from a spaceship window. If he had nothing from the beginning, he would’ve been fine. If Thor had died at his hand, hating him, he would’ve been fine.
Thor had died believing in him. And that was so much worse.
Screams erupted from outside, and all four of them glanced towards the doorways.
“God, already? It’s been what, five minutes since you two crash through the window and now we’ve got more party guests?” Stark rubbed at his forehead, probably nursing an oncoming migraine.
“I guess they move fast. Let’s go.” Strange and Stark headed towards the doorway of the sanctum, but Banner lingered behind.
The scientist paused at Loki’s side, looking at him with a gaze that was suddenly inscrutable. No easily provoked anger that Loki could stoke into a wildfire to keep the sadness at bay. No mistrust. Just a hint of sadness, and a twinge of concern in his voice when he asked:
“Are you alright?”
Loki’s hand lifted to his face, feeling the wetness of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He stared at his fingers, before wiping them against the material of his jacket.
No time for this. Not right now.
“I’m fine.” Loki gritted his teeth, flipping his dagger in his hand.
Loki didn’t take much stock in legacy. He’d had his fair share of prophecies and purposes, and none of them had quite worked out the way he’d wanted - or expected. Fates could be changed with the flip of a dice - his birthright had been to die one moment, inherit the throne the next. He was destined to be the doom of Midgard and the saviour of Asgard and somewhere along these severed threads of prophecy he’d realised that it was all just chaos. He’d rather be an agent of that, than a warrior honouring the stories of someone else.
Thor’s story felt different, though. If he was going to honour anything in his life, maybe his brother could be the exception. Maybe he could help protect this fragile blue planet from this destruction; just this once.
Loki gripped the dagger harder, until his knuckles turned white.
Midgard waited on the other side of that door. A place that he had chosen to conquer, and Thor had chosen to care for.
If it didn’t die today, he knew it’d be a matter of time before it died from something else. But he wouldn’t let it be lost today.
Thor believed in him. He’d died believing in him.
Honour that, then. Honour his stubbornness, if nothing else. What better legacy was there to leave Thor with, than postponing the dying light of a planet just because?
Chaos and stubbornness. What better combination was there than that?
#my fic#fanfic#thor fanfic#infinity war au#infinity war fix it#thor odinson#loki odinson#brodinsons#bruce banner#multi chapter#mcu fic
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Planetary Orphic Hymns
Manifestation order: Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Sun, Venus, Mercury, Moon
Please only use these Hymns if you’re ready. Jupiter is incredibly expansive, Mars incredibly defensive, etc. All planets need to be worked with before ever thinking about prayer to Saturn, and when Saturn is worked with, you need to keep Solar influences heavy.
*astrological conditions matter
Formal wear
Storax, basil, frankincense
Hymn to Jupiter
O Jove much-honored, Jove supremely great,
To thee our holy rites we consecrate,
Our prayers and expiations, king divine,
For all things round thy head exalted shine.
The earth is thine, and mountains swelling high,
The sea profound, and all within the sky.
Saturnian king, descending from above,
Magnanimous, commanding, sceptred Jove;
All-parent, principle and end of all,
Whose power almighty, shakes this earthly ball;
Even Nature trembles at thy mighty nod,
Loud-sounding, armed with lightning, thundering God.
Source of abundance, purifying king,
O various-formed from whom all natures spring;
Propitious hear my prayer, give blameless health,
With peace divine, and necessary wealth.
Any attire
Frankincense, cinnamon, dragon’s blood
Hymn to Mars
Magnanimous, unconquered, boisterous Mars,
In darts rejoicing, and in bloody wars
Fierce and untamed, whose mighty power can make
The strongest walls from their foundations shake:
Mortal destroying king, defiled with gore,
Pleased with war’s dreadful and tumultuous roar:
Thee, human blood, and swords, and spears delight,
And the fire ruin of mad savage fight.
Stay, furious contests, and vending strife,
Whose works with woe, embitter human life;
To lovely Venus, and to Bacchus yield,
To Ceres give the weapons of the field;
Encourage peace, to gentle works inclined,
And give abundance, with benignant mind.
Clean, nice clothing with a sense of modesty
Frankincense
Hymn to the Sun
Hear, golden Titan, whose eternal eye
With broad survey, illumines all the sky.
Self-born, unwearied in diffusing light,
And to all eyes the mirror of delight:
Lord of the seasons, with thy fiery car
And leaping courses, beaming light from far:
With thy right hand the source of morning light,
And with the left the father of the night.
Agile and vigorous, venerable Sun,
Fiery and bright around the heavens you run.
Foe to the wicked but the good man’s guide,
Over all his steps propitious you preside:
With various founding, golden lyre, ’tis mine
To fill the world with harmony divine.
Father of ages, guide of prosperous deeds,
The world’s commander, borne by lucid steeds,
Immortal Jove, all-searching, bearing light,
Source of existence, pure and fiery bright
Bearer of fruit, almighty lord of years,
Agile and warm, whom every power reveres.
Great eye of Nature and the starry skies,
Doomed with immortal flames to set and rise
Dispensing justice, lover of the stream.
The world’s great despot, and over all supreme.
Faithful defender, and eye of right,
Of steeds the ruler, and of life the light:
With founding whip four fiery steeds you guide,
When in the car of day you glorious ride.
Propitious on these mystic labors shine,
And bless thy supplicants with a life divine.
Something that makes you feel good about yourself
Frankincense, rose, honeysuckle, sandalwood
Hymn to Venus
Heavenly, illustrious, laughter-loving queen,
Sea-born, night-loving, of an awful mien;
Craft, from whom necessity first came,
Producing, nightly, all-connecting dame:
Tis thine the world with harmony to join,
For all things spring from thee, O power divine.
The triple Fates are ruled by thy decree,
And all productions yield alike to thee:
Whatever the heavens, encircling all contain,
Earth fruit-producing, and the stormy main,
Thy sway confesses, and obeys thy nod,
Awful attendant of the brumal God:
Goddess of marriage, charming to the sight,
Mother of Loves, whom banquetings delight;
Source of persuasion, secret, favoring queen,
Illustrious born, apparent and unseen:
Spousal, lupercal, and to men inclined
Prolific, most-desired, life-giving, kind:
great scepter-bearer of the Gods, tis thine,
Mortals in necessary bands to join;
And every tribe of savage monsters dire
In magic chains to bind, through mad desire.
Come, Cyprus-born, and to my prayer incline,
Whether exalted in the heavens you shine,
Or pleased in Syrias temple to preside,
Or over the Egyptian plains thy car to guide,
Fashioned of gold; and near its sacred flood,
Fertile and famed to fix thy blest abode;
Or if rejoicing in the azure shores,
Near where the sea with foaming billows roars,
The circling choirs of mortals, thy delight,
Or Beauteous nymphs, with eyes cerulean bright,
Pleased by the dusty banks renowned of gold;
Or if in Cyprus with thy mother fair,
Where married females praise thee every years,
And beauteous virgins in the chorus join,
Adonis pure to sing and thee divine;
Come, all-attractive to my prayer inclined,
For thee, I call, with holy, reverent mind.
Scholarly or what you work in
Frankincense, rose, honeysuckle, sandalwood
Hymn to Mercury
Hermes, draw near, and to my prayer incline,
Angel of Jove, and Maia’s son divine;
Studious of contests, ruler of mankind,
With heart almighty, and a prudent mind.
Celestial messenger, of various skill,
Whose powerful arts could watchful Argus kill:
With winged feet, tis thine thro air to course,
O friend of man, and prophet of discourse:
Great life-supporter, to rejoice is thine,
In arts gymnastic, and in fraud divine:
With power endued all language to explain,
Of care the loosener, and the source of gain.
Whose hand contains of blameless peace the rod,
Corucian, blessed, profitable God;
Of various speech, whose aid in works we find,
And in necessities to mortals kind:
Dire weapon of the tongue, which men revere,
Be present, Hermes, and thy suppliant hear;
Assist my works, conclude my life with peace,
Give graceful speech, and my memory’s increase.
Something comfortable, flowing that isn’t constricting
Jasmine, lavender, willow, copal, opium
Hymn to the Moon
Hear, Goddess queen, diffusing silver light,
Bull-horned and wandering thro the gloom of Night.
With stars surrounded, and with circuit wide
Night torch extending, thro the heavens you ride:
Female and Male with borrowed rays you shine,
And now full-orbed, now tending to decline.
Mother of ages, fruit-producing Moon,
Whose amber orb makes Nights reflected noon:
Lover of horses, splendid, queen of Night,
All-seeing power bedecked with starry light.
Lover of vigilance, the foe of strife,
In peace rejoicing, and a prudent life:
Fair lamp of night, its ornament and friend,
Who gives to Natures works their destined end.
Queen of the stars, all-wife Diana hail!
Decked with a graceful robe and shining veil;
Come, blessed Goddess, prudent, starry, bright,
Come moony-lamp with chaste and splendid light,
Shine on these sacred rites with prosperous rays,
And pleased accept thy suppliants mystic praise.
Solemn, black or grey clothes, on the formal side of things
Myrrh, poppy seed
Hymn to Saturn
Ethereal father, mighty Titan, hear
Great fire of Gods and men, whom all revere:
Endowed with various council, pure and strong,
To whom perfection and decrease belong.
Consumed by thee all forms that hourly die,
By thee restored, their former place supply;
The world immense in everlasting chains,
Strong and ineffable thy power contains
Father of vast eternity, divine,
O might Saturn, various speech is thine:
Blossom of earth and of the starry skies,
Husband of Rhea, and Prometheus wife.
Obstetric Nature, venerable root,
From which the various forms of being shoot;
No parts peculiar can thy power enclose,
Diffused thro’ all, from which the world arise,
O, best of beings, of a subtle mind,
Propitious hear to holy prayers inclined;
The sacred rites benevolent attend,
And grant a blameless life, a blessed end.
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Encore - Harry Hook x reader - Part 17 - bday present for myself~
Harry cursed to himself, the island he was going to use to propose to (y/n) on was some sanctuary for an endangered species and the wildlife preserves didn’t want humans on the island. So he would have to figure out something else for his propos…wait…her birthday was next week! And he had been wanting to do a surprise party for her, and Gil had suggested a scavenger hunt for her to do to keep her busy.
He already had the ring, permission to marry her from her aunt, and the knowing that if he asked, she would say yes…
All he had to do was add one more thing.
=
You sighed, setting down the heavy crate, wiping sweat from your neck as you stood. “gods, why does it gotta be so warm today” you groaned, undoing the colling towel from your belt and tossing it on your face “aahhhh that’s the good stuff~”
“(y/n) what are you doing?” you took off the towel and tossed it around your neck, sighing as the heat on your neck finally decreased.
“cooling down, it's like 95 out here” you complained, turning to look at Bonnie, who was holding two cold waterbottles “oohhhh fuckin-thank you!” she snorted and tossed one to you, you caught It in mid-air and cracked it open, gulping down the cold drink.
“slow down girl” Bonnie chuckled, cracking opening her bottle and starting to drink “oh, happy birthday by the way” you burped and grinned at her.
“Thanks, Bonnie,” you blinked in surprise as she handed you a note. “oh, thank-“
“yeah yeah, see you later girl” Bonnie trotted off deck, soon walking out of sight. You shrugged and tore open the paper.
It was Harry's handwriting.
-hello my bonnie lass~ today is your birthday and I wanted to celebrate it by giving you a scavenger hunt to your party today
It will be from the isle to Auradon, no stone left unturned.
Now go to the place, where our first meeting occurred.
You pursed your lips, tilting your head, where you first met huh? Well, that would be on the isle. You closed the note and stuffed it in your pocket, heading to your cabin for a moment to change your clothes, grab your bag, and your motorbike keys.
=
You looked around the slightly collapsed building, where you had originally met harry, after the chase between the gaston twins and you.
“oh,” you gasped, kneeling next to a large chunk of building and pulling out an envelope beneath it. Standing up you leaned against the wall and opened the note, a small bracelet falling out with it, golden painted seashells and opals danced across the metal, you slipped it on and read the note.
-you found it lass, now in the spot where the stars shine bright, the place I realized my heart was yours that night.
You groaned slightly, a smile on your face, he was being cheesy with these hints, but his rhyming wasn’t bad.
But you knew exactly where he was talking about, the hiding spot.
=
You took off your shoes, walking along the shore of the small inlet. You took a deep breath, the air much cleaner than the first time you had been here.
You spotted the white envelope holding the next clue, you trotted over and pulled it out, smiling at the long thin box underneath it. You pulled the box and opened it, clicking your tongue and tilting your head.
A new golden chain for your ruby necklace. You closed the box and slipped it into your bag, opening the note you laughed at the twin's messy handwriting.
-hi aunt (y/n)! harry let us write this note! -skipper
-so the next clue is “where you joined the crew”-sterling
“that’s an easy one” you snorted, but you couldn’t give them crap, they were only 12. So you walked the short distance from the hidden beach to the chip shop, nodding to the patrons as you entered.
“Hey (y/n) Hook left this for ya” Cook handed you the letter and a small bag, you grinned and nodded. “happy birthday by the way”
“Thanks, cook, see you later” you walked out of the shop and leaned on the docks outside. Opening the bag you snorted at the new leather gloves inside, small painted designs on the leather.
“such a dork” you whispered, taking out the note and grinning at it.
-another job well done my love, now for the place were we spar, and we “hit” it off
You groaned and rubbed your forehead, you remembered that…your head still hurt after that day.
=
You stepped onto the old lost revenge, even with Umas magic, it had been unable to sail again, so now it was used as an isle home for the crew. Desiree grinned, holding up the note and another small bag.
“hey, commander~ happy birthday!”
“Thanks, Desiree” you chirped, grabbing the note and bag from her “you can go ahead and do what you’re supposed to do after you give me this”
“Thanks, girl, see you later!” she hopped off the rails and walked off the ship, going through the tunnel to the bridge.
You opened the bag to see a scarlet headband with silver hook embroidered into the side, you slipped it on and opened the note.
-hope Desiree didn’t just leave the present unattended for you to find but! This next clue is just across the border, when I got to hold you in my arms once again.
Alright, to the bridge it is.
=
You stepped across where the magic barrier used to be, looking to your left, seeing a small stone holding down a note.
You walked over and picked it up, seeing no mini present. Opening it up you smiled.
-sorry love no present with this one, too risky for someone to take it, but this next one will be where we walked into Auradon together for the first time
Alright then, so just the other side of the bridge. Turning around you walked back to your motorbike and swung your leg over the seat and started the engine. You quickly strapped your helmet on and drove to the other side of the bridge.
=
You tilted your head at Evie, who smiled and waved at you, holding out a note “hey (y/n)! happy birthday! Here you go!” you dismounted your bike and met her halfway, nodding at her.
“Thanks, Evie, see you later” she nodded and ran off, presumably to your “surprise” party. Opening the note you chuckled.
-astute as always love (though im not really making these hard am I?) but the next is where I learned I wouldn’t be ripped from your arms for the second time
The courtyard of Bens castle, where you and Harry had gotten the keys from Persephone. You got back on your bike and rode off through the bridge gate to Auradon, making the 15 minute trip to bens castle.
“hey beasty boy!” you called, waving to the king who was just exiting his castle “you probably got something for me don’t cha?”
He shrugged “maybe? Dunno- ow” you punched his shoulder and held out your hand “okay okay here, I’ll see you later (y/n)” he handed you the next note and walked off, but you didn’t bother to pay attention where.
You ripped open the envelope, once more smiling at Harry's handwriting.
-Final clue my love, where we stepped through to our new life
That one made you think for a moment before it hit you. The door, the very first door you and harry stepped through to get to your world.
But you don’t remember a room behind it? Which it probably did but who knows. Good news was the door was in Bens castle so you unlipped your helmet and hung it off one of the handles, walking through the gates and making your way through the castle.
You stood in front of the door, looking at the small note taped to it.
-happy birthday (y/n)
You took a breath and opened the door, laughing as the room burst with streamers and confetti.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”
The entire crew, the core four, Ben, Jane, Lonnie, even Audrey was there, blowing horns and throwing confetti in the air, screaming in your face.
“guys!” you whipped a stray tear from your cheek “awwww…ive never been thrown a surprise party before!”
“Really?” Jane gasped “why not?!”
You shrugged, “dunno, guys people from my world aren’t as amazing as you guys”
“aw thanks” Evie sniffed, smiling at something behind you. You rose your brow at her and turned around, gasping and stumbling back.
“H-Harry?! Wha-“ Harry stood infront of you, a clean dark red suit fitted on his body, his hair combed back yet still in that wild style you loved, his eyeliner clean.
“(y/n), yeh have been the light of meh life for the past two years, since yeh fell into my life. Yeh have saved me from becoming a dark bitter person hell-bent on revenge, yeh have saved me from my da, yeh have protected meh family” oh gods you were already crying “and eh have both given and helped meh love, and I want to spend the rest of meh life with yeh, and love yeh for the rest of meh life, so” he kneeled on one knee, taking out a red velvet box from his pocket and opening it, revealing his mothers red ruby ring, in a brand new golden band with small bits of sea glass running down the sides “will you marry me-“ you fell to your knees, tears streaming down your face, unable to talk.
You let out incomprehensible babbles and nodded, leaping into Harry's arms and wrapping your arms around his neck “Im guessing it’s a yes” Harry chuckled, pulling you back and smiling, tears brimming in his eyes.
“yes” you croaked “yes I will marry you, you giant dork” Harry laughed but you shut him up quickly, pressing your lips to his.
Harry hummed into the kiss, lifting you slightly and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
“Alright alright” Carlos chuckled, walking over and patting Harry's shoulder “wed rather not see you two do it right in front of us please”
Harry separated from you and glared at Carlos “shut it up, let me enjoy this” he muttered, smiling at you and helping you stand, sliding the ruby ring onto your ring finger.
He kissed you again, bringing up your hand and kissing it “happy birthday my love”
“I love you Harry” you whispered, still whipping away your tears.
“I love you too (y/n)”
--end of part 17--
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#descendants#Descendents#disney descendants#harry hook#harry hook descendants#harry hook x reader#harry hook imagine
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1. First Rings
Standing upon the pedestal, servants and handmaidens rushed around to look for any other accessory that could be used to make you look more beautiful and enchanting than you already were. The blood-red dress that contrasted against your pale porcelain skin had real gold embedded into them, shimmering and sparkling against the light from the chandelier hung above. Annoyance radiated from you and they shuddered, your aura so powerful that it felt light a heavy weight was suddenly placed on their shoulders.
“My daughter, for today is your wedding day, you must show your acceptance of this arrangements and not embarrass our family,” said a voice from the door. You didn’t even bother to turn around but just sighed unhappily.
This was all because of her.
“Mother, for one day, can you please stick your fangs in other places rather than my own neck?” You commented causing her to lowly growl at you and approach you causing the handmaidens to squeak in fright and make way.
“Just because you are getting married to that Orendian Prince doesn’t mean you can talk like that to the one who gave birth to you,” threatened your mother. The servant girls in the room looked back and forth between the mother and daughter, admiring how you didn’t look scared nor annoyed.
It was blank. Like a canvas, waiting to be painted on.
The bright redness of your mother’s eyes mirrored your own but yours were becoming dull, not feeding for the last 24 hours.
You can see the flair and the fire raging behind those eyes but you just scoffed and laughed humorlessly.
“You see, the difference between us, Mother, is that I will be the queen to both kingdoms one day. Not only will I have Kalon, but Orenda as well. But the most important part is, I’ll be more powerful than you.” You whispered that last part, knowing full well she heard what you said and she raised a hand, ready to slap you but you just simply looked at her well-adorned fingers and she froze.
With your eyes fleeting back to meet hers, the corners of your lips rose to a smirk and you looked at a servant through the mirror saying, “Find all of my golden rings. Fill my fingers until every inch is covered in gold. Unless it is done, consider yourselves as feeding to the soldiers.”
Your mother watched the servants scurry to your jewelry boxes and rummage for any other rings, desperate to find any golden jewelry that could potentially save their life.
Meanwhile they were busy, you grabbed the opportunity to speak to your mother away from their eyes. Finally having the courage you never gained from your 186 years of living, you delicately grabbed your mother’s chin to face her to you.
Your actions seemed to fuel the fire inside her more but it didn’t matter you. “Listen to me, woman. You have done this to yourself. I’m merely your pawn in your chess board but I will play on my own rules and I get to choose my moves.”
The tall, golden building was in a buzz and excitement was heard from the chatter going on in the room. Husbands shook hands and wives held their daughters close as they introduced suitable young men to one day ask the little girl’s hand in marriage. To anyone, they looked like normal human beings by the way they acted and they moved about, sipping a glass of red liquid.
But, they were far from normal.
These vampires have been around for thousands of years and they have watched the world evolve into what it is now. Many wars were caused by the vampire women but the bloodshed was done by the vampire men.
The oldest vampires in the room were the Council of Elders as they have been around since Ramesses the Great and one was even a diplomat from China.
Due to their old age and highest status in the Vampire World, they were rarely seen out and only attended the most important meetings or events that would change the history of their kind forever.
This occasion is considered one of them as today was going to be the day that all blood-shed between the fueding houses would end and would shift their attention to human business. The most powerful kingdoms, Kalon and Orenda, have bared their fangs at one another for millennia and caused the deaths of many powerful members of the Coven.
The Prince of Orenda stood wearing white, a contrast to his blood-red eyes. His blonde hair was gelled to place and he scanned the room, recognizing some but there were others he didn't know. The atmosphere was joyful and excitement reeked from the King and Queen of both kingdoms but Jaemin was anything but happy.
“Nervous, Jae?” A voice from behind him held a teasing tone. Turning around, Jaemin cracked a smile, seeing his best friends.
The Twins from House Cerilian, Lee Donghyuck and Lee Jeno.
The Cousins from House Dormir, Huang Renjun with Zhong Chenle as Crown Prince.
The youngest from House Vermille, Park Jisung.
Renjun was the one who spoke and stood beside him, prompting the others to stand beside him too.
“Never. I will take a Kalonian wife and breed mixed blood children.” A sharp smile emphasized Jaemin's sarcasm causing Jeno to roll his eyes.
“Jaemin, remember this is the Red Princess you speak so rash about. If you force yourself upon without her consent or anger her, she has all power to condemn you and your kingdom and she won’t stop till she has your head.”
Jeno’s warning made Jaemin sharply turn to him and growled lowly, moving his eyes away towards the crowd to maintain his poker face. “She’s my bride, my wife, and I’m her husband. If she was raised well, she should know how to act like a woman, not a child.”
In front of a statue of Lucifer, a man stood in all red clothing with the original Book of the Dead on his bony, milky hands. The prince and the princess, wearing the 2 colors of the Coven, stood in front of him, facing the hideous statue of the horned fallen angel, clutching the head of the archangel Michael.
“Friends and family, we have gathered here today to bind the Kalonian Princess and the Orendian Prince. To seal the bond between rivaling houses and turn our focus on to more important issues at hand. Let us make history with the intertwining fates of our future leaders.”
Standing with your right hand on top of his left hand, your arms started to tire as your hands were raised to your shoulders to show that they were being conjoined. You quickly glanced at Jaemin and noticed how he clenched his jaw with his red eyes being fixated on the decaying old man.
A little boy, must be an assistant, placed a cushion with 2 rings resting on the crimson red cloth on the table in front of the old man. They were encrusted with diamonds and the bands were real gold.
“Each of you take the ring closest to your beloved,” he instructed and you and Jaemin grabbed a ring that was farthest from you both. “Slip these bands on to the ring finger of your beloved’s hand.”
The jewelry became the second ring on your ring finger but it shined the most with the big chunk of diamond resting on it.
“These signify the start of your marriage and your First Rings as wedded beloveds to symbolize the never-ending cycle like the shape of your bands. At this time, if the Highest Maiden and the Highest Damoiseau please place the cup of Judas on to the pedestal.”
The two of you turned slightly to see your Highest Maiden, your trusted servant Ari and an Orendian diplomat you’ve seen before with the name of Jeno.
The small brown cup rested on the white marble block and the both of you were instructed to held your arms above it.
“Crown Princess Y/N, please take this knife and repeat after me,” he instructed causing you to hold the dagger against your skin and repeated every word that escaped his mouth.
“I, Crown Princess Y/N of House Kalon, Red Princess of the East, Sister of Macbeth’s Witches, future Queen of House Kalon and House Orenda, take this dagger before me and draw my blood that traces to my lineage full of Kings and Queens of House Kalon. Today I will bind my blood to thee, Na Jaemin, Crown Prince of House Orenda, Stormbringer of the North, Brother of the Coven, future King of House Kalon and House Orenda in front of the Dark Lord, the Council of Elders, and the Coven. An oath I will make to lead our kingdoms to prosperity and to continue the legacy our forefathers have built for us. So please, take my blood and feast on the ambrosia from the Gods, my king.”
Without even flinching, the blade ran across your porcelain skin and the red liquid quickly flowed into the cup and you held it in place until it slowed down, Ari handing you a rag to clean the mess.
You passed the dagger to Jaemin and he wrapped his hand around yours first before grabbing the golden hilt of the silver dagger. A small smirk formed on his face and he held it to his arm like you before saying the same thing without assistance.
“I, Crown Prince Jaemin of House Orenda, Stormbringer of the North, Brother of the Coven, future King of House Kalon and House Orenda, take this dagger before me and draw my blood that traces to my lineage full of Kings and Queens of House Orenda. Today marks my bond with Crown Princess Y/N of House Kalon, Red Princess of the East, Sister of Macbeth’s Witches, future Queen of House Kalon and House Orenda, as our bloods fuse into the cup of Judas, marking our fates to be sealed. I solemnly swear to you my everlasting loyalty and my protection as the army of House Orenda will stand by in your defense to whoever and whatever may bring you and Kalon harm. So please, take the mixture of our bloods and feast on our vows and accept my oath to you, my queen.”
As per tradition, the brides were the ones who drank first and you swiftly handled the cup and looked down at the beautiful colors of Jaemin’s being light red while yours was mahogany red.
Then a thought hit you.
This was it.
Once the liquid touches your tongue, you are eternally bound to this man and you will remain as his wife and queen to his kingdom till the day you die. Your loyalty will forever side to him and if you were to become a widow, you can never take another man to be a replacement of your former spouse.
Hesitating for a second, you turned to look at the Kalon Council and the looks from your family, friends, and more specifically, your parents. They raised an eyebrow and motioned to drink from the cup and your eyes fluttered shut for a moment before opening again.
You turned your attention back to the cup and up to Jaemin who gave you an amused look at the way you were acting. Gulping lightly, you raised the cup to your lips and winced at the burn of the sworn blood and the trail left burning sensations all the way to your stomach.
Placing it down, Jaemin drank the rest of it and the old man yelled out Latin incantations and before you know it, the audience stood up, clapping.
“I present before you, the Coven, the Council of Elders, Kalon, Orenda, Lucifer, the union of unholy matrimony. All hail! Crown Prince and Princess, Y/N and Jaemin!”
You blanked out during the party.
There was a big slaughter fest and a human girl found in the woods was given as an offering from the Hunters Council, who you and Jaemin drank first from and eventually, your High Maidens and his High Damoiseaux pounced onto the poor girl.
Did you feel bad?
No.
Because of her kind, your people were being slaughtered and burned at the steak being accused of being vampires and witches.
Yes, it was true.
But it was still the blood of your people and if you needed to bring bloodshed to avenge their deaths, you will.
By the time it was over, you were still in shock and you missed Jaemin holding your hand in the carriage as he sat opposite of you. He looked out of the window and you wondered why your parents could ever sacrifice you to a monster like him.
There were rumors about the boy.
Jaemin slaughtered the entirety of House Pezzerio up North since the said House launched an ambush attack towards one of his cousins who were vacationing up in the mountains for winter, resulting to the death of the youngest child, Wooseon. He was a family man who would do anything to protect his loved ones and claim as many lives as he needed to.
So, when news spread about the extinction of House Pezzerio, Jaemin was found guilty but walked away without being charged for his crimes under Beelzebub’s Vow which stated that ‘any act of revenge on any attack of the royal family will result in the death of anyone associated with the accused’.
‘If a man is capable of killing an entire House, who says I can live until I turn 200?’
The entire ride was spent in silence, relishing in the last few minutes of being rivals and preparing the mentality of husband and wife.
“Your Highnesses, we have arrived at your estate.”
The coachman opened the door for you and you held your dress, trying not to trip on it. Jaemin held his arm out for you and you reluctantly slipped your arm through his and followed the lead of the Head Servant to where your shared bedroom would be located.
“I cannot go beyond this door, your highnesses. No staff is allowed to enter until the room has been consummated.”
At the mention of ‘consummate’, your mind became empty and you were pretty sure if you had a heart, it would be beating rapidly by now. From the human novels and texts you’ve read, it describes having blood rush up to your cheeks and heat rushing down past your abdomen and your marriage becoming official with the connection of your bodies.
Stepping into the grand room, Jaemin turned to shut the door and locked it before crossing it to go to the dresser.
“Don’t listen to the rumors you’ve heard about me, princess.”
His rough and low voice startled you from your misery and you jutted your chin high. “You may be husband but you cannot dictate what I choose to hear and not to hear.”
Jaemin chuckled amused, “Yes, your highness, I am your husband.” He confirmed and you were about to scoff until he turned around and met you with his stare. “But I am also, your king.”
He walked over to where you remained standing and went behind you to hug you from behind, letting his hands wander across the front of your dress. You bit your lip and you shook from both anger and humiliation as you knew you couldn’t stop him. He buried his face in your neck before taking a deep sniff and placing little kisses on your skin.
“Where should I put my mark on your pretty little neck? It’s too beautiful to ruin so I must decide carefully,” he mumbled.
His hands remained at your hips and the euphoric energy Jaemin might be purposefully radiating right now was affecting you. With a content sigh, you leaned your head back, resting it on his shoulder as he continued his assault on your neck.
But something inside of you snaps and you ripped his hands away from you, moving quickly to wrap your hands around his neck but he was faster.
With one hand, he restrained both of yours and he looked down on you, letting him raise your head up with his index finger and clenching your jaw. “Did you know that little stunt of yours is considered as treason, my love?”
The nickname made you angrier, “I’m the future Queen, I know my laws. Failing to request consent is considered a higher crime, my king.”
“But I am king and my word is law. Shouldn’t you be scared, sweetheart?”
Jaemin stared at you with a small smirk causing you to spit out, “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Oh, but you should be,” he mumbled, still inspecting the golden flecks in your eyes.
“But I’m not and I won’t be.” Your defiant tone made him scoff lightly before forcefully grabbing your jaw with his strong grip.
“Aren’t you just a pretty little thing?” His mocking tone caused you to spit to his face.
“I’m no thing. I’m Crown Princess Y/N of House Kalon, Red Princess of the East, Sister of Macbeth’s Witches, future Queen of House Kalon and House Orenda. I’m not just a pretty little thing you can place on a shelf for everyone to admire.”
But all he did was look at you intently, “But don’t forget, Princess. You’re mine and if you really are the future Queen, didn’t you learn to listen to your King?”
a/n: here’s the first chapter. not really that long but its kinda hard since its kinda the introductory part and not really the real tea yet.
#nct#nct dream#nct 127#nct u#na jaemin#jaemin#na jaemin imagines#na jaemin imagine#na jaemin scenarios#na jaemin scenario#vampire!jaemin#na jaemin au#jaemin au#jaemin imagines#jaemin imagine#jaemin scenarios#jaemin scenario#vampire!nct#jaemin vampire au#nct vampire au#nct dream imagines#nct dream imagine#nct dream scenarios#nct dream scenario#nct dream au#nct au#angst
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Next Caller Pt 27
@c-s-stars, helped me with these collages since i am not able to make them. Sorry for making you wait so long. :D
Saturday morning, post fist bump to shoulder awkward goodbye from you to your Cuddle Monster the night before, you were underwear clad prepping of your hair for the day ahead. Braiding up the upper half of your hair into a long woven pattern secured with hidden pins you moved onto pulling your strapless dress on over your corset, making sure to use pins to keep it in place even with the tight hidden zipper on the side. Tall heels were next so you wouldn’t have to fidget with them underneath your cape, the lovely pair stirring a smirk across your lips at seeing how nice they looked and how comfortable they were.
On top of your head you added the feather topped golden leaf band forming a mini crown you pinned in place before moving onto your cape. The golden layer of feathers laid over the white swan feather cape reaching your hips secured with a single strap around your neck. Exhaling sharply you moved onto your makeup next. A simple stripe of gold across your face in a mask coating from eyebrows to just under your eyes stretching from ear to ear once you added the facial primer. Primer for your lips came next for your black glittery lipstick to finish off the look and just in time for you to pace in your living room when you had assured you had all you needed in your hidden pockets of your dress.
Fidgeting with your golden leaf accented arm bands you answered the doorbell trying not to worry about what the hell your Cuddle Monster would be wearing. Opening your door you couldn’t help but smirk seeing Mal with her hair pulled back underneath a flower circlet with flower pins in her hair matching the flowers on the wrist bands covering most of her forearms on pale green vines and the green fishnet flower coated stockings under her gladiator sandals. Her silver corset topped tutu-like skirted dress accented with pink, yellow and red flowers matching the shades in her fake wings strapped to her dress. “I told you mine would look-,”
Open mouthed she took in your look and replied, “You look stunning. No one else could pull off the feathered fairy like you.” Shifting on her feet she asked, “Are those real wings?”
You shook your head, “Just a cape with real feathers, more fancy dress than festival outside of the makeup.”
“Speaking of which, where did you get that lipstick? It was all gone when I went, wanted this rouge-,” the honk of the horn had you giggle and step out behind her drawing her eye to your shoes, “Again with those shoes, kill me now, I love your friends, how do I get them to buy me shoes like that?”
“I’m certain if you mention to the boys your taste they would certainly start to fill your collection.” Locking your door to join her with skirt folded in your fingers lifting it just a bit higher on your path to the car with the burly bright red bearded silvery maroon haired Dwarf at the wheel while his dark haired Hobbit wife with silver streaks in her tight pulled back curls took pictures of you both together. Like Mal she was dressed but in a longer silvery green flower embroidered dress with a cape surely embroidered with folded wings chosen over the strap on pair like Mal’s. Her father wearing brown and golden layers from his trousers, folded over boots, tunic and pirate like jacket to go with the bear mask.
Climbing in you said, “Mr Ganir, Mrs Clover, you look incredible.”
Lowly he chuckled and said, “And you are beyond words our dear girl. Beyond words.”
Clover giggled and in sharing your nerves with Mal you reached over folding your hand around hers on the seat between you hers tightened around the fingers on as her mother said, “Come on, before we miss it all you old flatterer you.” Making him chuckle and shift gears to head to the festival. Joining the lines of cars you found your way to the very same place in the heart of the city. The squared off Grand Palace Theatre in white and blue surrounded by immaculate gardens with swirling patterns of hedges around copper pathways leading to each entrance. Through which you would be party to several shows to pay tribute to various figures and creatures of old and several food and stands of trade woven through the inner gardens laid out inside the Theatre’s courtyards within the square layout.
Parked in one of the many garages around it you joined the group in exiting the car and flashed grins to the parents who nestled you and their girl between them proudly as they always had since meeting you. Mal seemed to have ample friends from her other job at the shelter but it seemed you were the one she chose to enforce her friendship upon at the station, no matter how willing countless others had been to have earned her favor over exhausted frazzled little you. Far beyond distracted to think of making friends while keeping your head above water, only to realize you did have just a hint more time to make a bigger effort for a new friend.
“And just where are we meeting the Durins in all this?” You asked.
Mal replied, “Next to the Bird display, apparently they assumed it would be the least crowded spot.”
“Oh ya, Bird display, what Dwarf could ever want to be seen near that.” Making the trio chuckle around you while you turned your head to glance at a group staring and whispering about your costume. Looking back forward again you inhaled deeply taking hold of your skirt again in eyeing the cobbled copper path to keep from stumbling in the change from concrete to that. Bodies folded around your group and again Mal’s hand folded in yours for the woven path.
At least until you spotted the first lion mask in a trio of blondes including Vili and Fili with Kili and his wolf mask. Next to various lions and fairies from the Findis clan that was available to attend. All in pirate like outfits in their clan colors. Under Vili’s arm stood Dis in a strapless black and orange flowing dress with a dramatic butterfly wing painted cape and a headdress with butterflies floating around her braided bun coating in silver glitter matching her silver glittery painted on mask.
Dwalin in a boar’s mask stood beside Bilbo with a chipmunk outfit matching Frodo’s he seemed to love and had chosen. Balin and his wife were sheep along with their little girl as a goat propped on Balin’s hip. Frerin in his badger mask stood between his parents Dis and Thrain, with grey ram masks and horn headdresses in similar blue and gold accented gown and jacketed outfits, and his brother Thorin similarly dressed but with a black battle ram mask with horns secured by the braids in his hair.
A wide grin slid across Frerin’s lips in spotting you had him tapping the chest of his brother while readying his phone. The single moment of shock when eyes shifted to your group captured in a picture only deepening your adopted brother’s expression. Fili and Kili inhaled deeply shifting on their feet grinning to Mal between stolen glances a her parents while Dis, Vili and their families readied to greet their hopefully one day in laws.
The distance was closed and in an awkward moment of silence you stepped closer at Frodo’s reach for you, “Feathers!”
In a giggle you let him inspect your cloak you brought closer to his reach and you said looking at Dis in her glance your way, “Um, Dis and Vili, Findis, these are Ganir and Clover Mereng,”
A subtle shift of Ganir’s feet had you halfway rolling your eyes in his creeping grin at your accent having you pronounce his clan name like the dance over its true hard g at the end after the forget-ably silent n. The clan name Took Mal preferred using over Mereng for being teased by others saying it like meringue in school. Playfully he rumbled, “Always makes me want to dance that accent of yours.” His eyes shifted to Dis and Vili for the trading of pleasantries after you had so rightly broken the silence. Though when he stepped forward to greet the boys he said, “And you must be the lads attempting to court our Malachite.” His eyes looked them over and he said, “Call me Bubbles.”
You giggled as Mal said in the parting of the boys’ lips, “Adad!”
At which he chuckled and said, “Just giving them a good ribbing.” He flashed her a wink, “I am allowed you know.”
Frerin subtly snapped a picture of you and while Thorin kept staring at you his brother whispered to you softly until Ganir asked, “And who might you be staring at our honorary Stonefoot so long.”
Curiously you looked his way and said, “I’m a bit too light to be called stone anything.”
Clover giggled saying, “All the same, nearly kin.”
Mal said, “Thorin bought her that necklace Adad.” Making you give her a pointed gaze earning a shrug from her in return.
Thorin shifted on his feet finally looking to the Dwarf now posing as your protector as well, “Well it seems I have three suitors to inspect.” At that your voice cracked trying to argue while Thorin’s eyes in a glance your way flinched wider a moment.
Clover patted her husband’s arm saying, “Ganir is jesting, we know well enough her kin initiate courtship with granting nicknames and vying for a blush out of the males. And here she has been silent about the young fellow.” Dwalin and Balin both bit their lips to keep from beaming dumbly at their cousin who had missed that fact.
Again Thorin was staring at you in both confusion and a glimmer of hope while Mal burst into giggles at the boys’ hushed compliments on her outfit making Ganir turn his focus back to the boys as you turned hearing, “There you are.” Glorfindel and Ecthellion both in fox masks complete with ears and clipped on tails visible under their jackets and sideways capes covering one of their shoulders.
Both leaned in giving you hugs and pecks on your cheeks with Thranduil and Legolas behind them claiming their own turn before looking over Frerin and the boys. Though in Gloin’s trot over excusing himself for being late with the Dam you imagined to be Gorgo as a mountain lion between the pair of mountain goats. Her eyes scanned over you and Mal hopefully before being unable to help but ask, “Is Bunny enjoying her day off?”
Mal forced a grin and said, “Pretty sure, she’s around, somewhere.”
Gorgo looked at you asking, “I heard we have you to thank for putting the show on air.”
“Well, five hours of dead air or hop in the seat no one else wanted, not a hard decision.”
She smirked saying, “Still, with a story like that, should have taken so long to rehearse-,”
Ecthellion broke off her moment to say, “I thought I recognized that voice, Miss Gorgo, I am Ecthellion.”
Her lips split into a wide grin and she said, “Yes, it is nice to have a face with a voice. You’ve known Miss Pear long?”
He said, “Since we were children. Even longer than Glori has known her. Though not as long as Thran has known her.”
Thorin broke the conversation saying, “We should head in.” Stealing a glance your way finding you already looking at him for the first time since Ganir had made his courting comment.
Straight to the steps you followed the crowds and when Frodo asked him a question his head turned granting others a chance to split your group. The Durins and the Merengs along with the Findis continued on while Thranduil kept his hand on your back guiding you after them ensuring you at least got into the same show they were being ushered to. In the crowds however familiar copper and cocoa skinned Elves with snow like hair tied back with various paint sprays and glitters added under their bird costumes had Thorin looking around for you.
Inside the theater for the first show their group took up a large section and more scattered through the crowds of the familiarly featured Elves all taking notice of your entrance to claim the section across the row from theirs had him on edge. Subtle taps however of your fingers to your chest easily mistaken first as a nervous fidget of your necklace when he noticed you spotting one couple especially near the far wall only to have the motion mirrored by them and every other one you locked eyes with. It was a hello, a very distant hello from cousins to one another that the men around you granted nods of their heads in the distance in their own greeting to mask just who their focus might have been on. Clearly not to you the visually anonymous one on the group of very public figures stirring whispers since their arrivals.
With a quick grin you settled down and crossed your legs eyeing Thorin as he sat down stealing another glance your way with a quick grin of his own. Silently hating that there was a spot between you. The show however began and off the lap behind you a little girl on the lap of another assumed relative with deep cocoa skin and glowing swirling clan markers across her skin that dimmed in her child’s escape had him shifting to see where she was going. Teetering around the chair you were in she planted her hands on your knee and across your cheeks swirls matching the pairs’ faintly began to shimmer in the dip of your hands you lift, turn and plop her on your lap widening her grin. Around her middle your arms settled and the girl eased back comfortably while her mother leaned forward. Her fingertips settled on the back of your chair and in the backwards tilt of your forehead it met hers in a trading of whispered Vanyar greetings before turning your attention to the show again.
From children opening with a song and dance that branched into a tale of old you nuzzled and whispered to the child in your arms that stirred more than a few glances from the Durins your way along with Mal when Fili and Kili traded whispers about it. Moving to the next show in the theater over you then had two toddlers come over with that woman now mingled in your group. Thorin had the seat beside you but couldn’t help but chuckle at the pair of boys clambering over him to get to you as their parent grinned in the aisle watching you tap foreheads and noses with the pair between pecks on their foreheads between their eyes after their tight hugs before clambering back to head to the next show.
More and more of your braver relatives milled in and out claiming their own focus for brief snippets of time with the same woman at your side until the second show when her daughter got fussy and she was off to go browse the shops then head home. Bitter sweetly each Durin looking on got to see your scattered family and the lingering fear of remaining too close for too long all coming to greet them wish you a nice festival.
Three shows came then a round of food carts you all sampled and between the groups you were told what each was and chose accordingly slyly passing off your samples to others who volunteered for the seconds to keep from insulting anyone. Two more shows came and then you were freed to the inner courtyards for browsing stalls and various mini shows. Off in their own world it seemed the future in laws were settling to learning one another keeping you to your friends, Thorin and Frerin, the brothers who refused to abandon your side once your family had seemed to all have slipped out again as soon as they could have been noticed.
As the sun was setting Thorin’s hand folded in silent warning around yours breaking your focus from the cart to draw your eyes to him that only snapped up in the shot of a firework into the air that then exploded lighting the sky in silver. Leaving the crowds filing closer to the stage you had missed being assembled along the far wall. Another show began and from the massive group of all the children in all the shows who were there to present the subject of their wish for protection Thorin grinned along with you while they held up their pictures of bunnies they hooked to floating lanterns they let free. The action making Mal shift closer to you to rub your arm in a silent but proud moment shared with your friends and Thorin all in on the truth.
From there the wishes were open for everyone while the fireworks and final musical and dance filled acts blending into a parade started up. Freed to mill about again you lingered around until Mal’s yawn had her parents calling an end to the night taking them past the wishing booth. Lowly in a bend forward Ecthellion said they would take you home freeing you to keep browsing. Tightly Mal hugged you good night while making sure to keep hold of her ribbon she had been given from one of the silent judges grading each type of fairy and animal costume present.
While Mal’s ribbon had come in her reach for the bag holding her new charms for her charm necklace the boys picked for her to be draped over her arm in the fleeing of the judge. Yours came in the reach for your cup of blue raspberry shaved ice Glori had pointed you to for a cup of kiwi for himself that had your head turning feeling something touching your ear. In a chuckle Legolas pulled the ribbon off your head as Frerin called a Khuzdul comment at the giant squirrel costumed Dwarf that had you hugging eyeing the second ribbon gifted to you that way for this costume. “I get that I’m short but my head?”
You turned at deep chuckles finding Thorin scowling at his ribbon having been hung from the adorable ridge under his Battle Ram nose on his mask enabling better breathing and eating for him. Runoff his head when he removed it he said, “I saw your bracelet I know where you work!” To the now cackling raccoon costumed Dwarf rushing back to the crowds.
Rolling his eyes he muttered while Balin chuckled out, “Hey you won again for Battle Rams.”
Thorin grumbled back, “I’m the only Battle Ram.”
Dwalin pointed, “Not true, oh wait he’s a sheep. Never mind. Still a win though.”
“You know what you gotta do?”
Lowly he rumbled back playfully, “If you bleat at me I’m walking home.”
As if on cue Balin’s daughter gave off an adorable bleat making you giggle and him chuckle with his family as Balin said, “That was a very good bleat Billi.”
Under various colored flashes of light you felt the bag from your t shirt you had chosen getting heavier from gifts from your friends to the wall of wishes on your way out. Entire sections were dedicated to various people with an entire chunck of the wall coated in runes of the names of characters from your show mirroring the names they had written to add to the fire pits and small lanterns for each child. Inhaling steadily seeing that others had written down nicknames and that Thorin had tried to subtly write out ‘Mafioso’ on the wall after having written it down in his slip now burning you smirked and wrote down on the paper then wall what the boys them repeated, “Cuddle Monster?” That sent ripples of the nickname through the Durins wondering who it was while Frerin smirked taking his own guess by your faint blush.
That had their uncle turning around and a stolen stick of your tongue at him he shook his head and turned around to wait on you while your friends all copied down their remaining parents names, each having lost one. They were all their children had left of the once vast clans and while you ached to add your mother’s name right then you were wishing more that Thorin was doing well and had a good night after having ran into his ex the day before. His family was nice and again for the walk out you eyed all the dancing costumed people all the way through the street back to the garage the Elves parked in across from the one the Dwarves had used. Waves and brief hugs later you could hear Dwalin calling out, “Get some sleep and relax this weekend.”
Giggling to yourself you turned away keeping at Thranduil’s side looping your arm around his and leaning against his arm making him ask, “Tired?”
“Not really. I had fun, you?”
He nodded and said, “It was nice to finally see Marya and Ringwe in person.”
To yourself you giggled saying, “Yes, Ringwe’s gotten so big, and the twins too. For how long our childhoods last it goes by so fast.”
Making him chuckle and pat his hand on his son’s shoulder on his right guiding him through the first turn to the lift while he uploaded his photos from the night. Trying not to be too obvious I’m pulling the note up from his phone to search for the username he spotted on young Gimli’s phone screen at their having shared pictures from the last year from their pages including a picture surprisingly they were both in. He had partially gotten distracted when his cousin Tauriel had shown up late in one of the second round of shows showing off her latest bout of carvings on her next gallery show coming up.
“Big plans tonight?” He asked lowly.
“I kind of want to dig into that bag of fan mail.”
Glorfindel chuckled, “Good, I think I spotted some addressed in crayon, no doubt some classes have been rooting for Bunny all along.”
*
The first of a long string of messages to come in the new friendship had Gimli distracted while Gloin glanced at his wife asking, “Something wrong My Love?”
Gorgo replied unpursing her lips, “She has a bunny tattooed on her foot.”
Gloin glanced at her again, “Who?”
“Miss Pear. She has a Bunny on the top of one of her feet. I was looking at her shoes and I noticed it.”
Gloin replied, “Ah,”
Gorgo, “She has that tattoo, she works on the show, it can’t be coincidence. You said she writes-.”
Gloin, “I can see where you are going, My Love. However, you stated Bunny wished to have anonymous publishings.”
“I’m not going to out her. Just, if it is her I could get the draft so much easier.”
“I understand that, but don’t you have to wait on the ad first? That was the deal to see how it faired and then an advance settled to schedule a hand off of the draft?”
“Before I left the office we had 3 million and counting responses and 5 million clicks on the sneak preview sketch of the Countess Ecthellion gave us.”
Gloin nodded, “Ah yes, and Dwalin mentioned something about a round of stickers available soon for the station for the show.”
Gorgo, “How much?”
Gloin chuckled replying, “I doubt they wouldn’t have a supply for us seeing as it’s our clan.”
She nodded, “Right. Plus I suppose they would always have a supply for the cast to have as well. We could at least get a sneak peak.” Gorgo paused then said, “Still don’t know why Thorin stopped me from asking questions about the show.”
Gloin chuckled, “Probably because it’s a day of relaxing. And in crowds like that no telling who’s listening in for secrets when they hear the girls work on that show.”
“True.” She said then sighed leaning her head back making him chuckle and reach over to take hold of her hand he lifted to kiss then kept hold of on the arm rest between them.
*
Tucked safely in the back seat you listened to Glori and Echo chatting in the front seat while you sat between Thranduil and Legolas, both immersed in their phones for the dragging ride back to your place. By the end of which Thranduil had finished details for the next press event he had and he grinned at you saying, “Sorry, they keep trying to involve foxes in my press shows. Post one picture of my fox footie pajamas and now it’s a thing.”
You giggled and Echo asked, “So, do we get a tour at least?”
You nodded and said, “Sure, not much to show in most rooms still.”
Thranduil said, “There is nothing wrong with that.”
Glorfindel, “And we won’t linger too long, have to get these angels back to our place for their beauty sleep.” You giggled in Thranduil’s fake laugh, “Plus we get to hear about the ad in the morning and discuss the advance for securing a read of your book.”
“It doesn’t have to be huge.”
Echtellion, “The basic would be at least 15k, the very least, that was where they started in mentioning it the other day.”
“So that’s, how does that work for when the book comes out exactly?”
Ecthellion replied, “That means for the first 15k in book sales the Publishers get that. And from there you start to earn your 48 from each book.”
Thranduil said, “Only 300 books to pay back the advance, not bad, if we get everyone in our circle and just a few from the Durins with the rest of their kin surely granting you a huge bump on their own before others could even get their hands on it.”
Glorfindel, “Hopefully Gorgo will calm down once she gets to read the book.”
Legolas glanced up, “She did seem a bit intent on learning secrets.”
“Well, she has been waiting five years. I mean, I doubt she’d spread it around,”
Glorfindel, “Still, out in the open like that. It’s a good thing Thorin stopped her.”
Thranduil, “I doubt he would wait much longer to offer courtship.” Rolling your eyes in parking in the driveway you slid out of the car behind the smirking blonde offering his hand to keep you from getting caught on your skirt and help you up to your feet again. “Welcome home, I love it already.”
You giggled and led the group up to your door stirring up curious glances from your returning neighbors who all settled for their own comfort that they were all relatives due to your Elf ears noticed by others. Inside you went and excitedly they took in each detail they could including those you had on the sketches for each room with ample adoring comments for each including for the furniture waiting to be painted showing you had been using your time off well and keeping busy. The greenhouse especially halting them in their tracks, first by your plants and hard work on the incredible fountain then by your birds all excitedly taking you the details of your costumes. Tight hugs later and back to the car they went wishing you a nice weekend leaving you to head to your bedroom.
Headdress first you removed that and then washed off your makeup. Strolling into your closet you removed your bracelets you put back with your few pieces of costume jewelry. Reaching up you removed and hung up your cape then reached down to unzip your dress you hung up as well. Switching from your corset to a comfy bra you looked down at your heels and pouted a moment then decided to pull on some comfy shorts and a tank top keeping them on a bit longer. For a moment you paused remembering where you put the bag you went to fetch it and bring it to your bed along with an empty trunk of shelves from your pantry things you opened allowing the cubes to rise up to a couple inches away from the ceiling.
Opening the bag you dumped it out onto the bed a quarter of the way and started to eye the envelopes and gave off a soft sigh, “Ok, runes first.” By the return address you separated out the ones with Dwarf Runes laying them on one shelf filling each box, two shelves down you started to fill with Hobbit Rune letters and the few Elven ones you added three shelves down from there. More and more you sorted through the rest of the bag then looked up at the final results seeing the Dwarf shelves packed with a pile on your bed still.
Pulling those back out a cubby at a time you sorted by which Dwarven Kingdom they came from and from there got to dividing the majority from Erebor into different counties. In the mix you smirked seeing common names you eased together when dividing them up alphabetically in each county. Skipping those from the other countries you moved onto the Hobbit letters and sorted those by where they were from, sorting those from Erebor even more down to alphabetically as well.
The last portion for Elven letters didn’t take long at all with those you recognized to be from friends of your father’s clan you set in a cubby on their own on the very bottom shelf. Sitting on your bed you opened the first one and the first few you skimmed through noticing it was all criticisms on your show and how irritating it was to have another tale about the Durins while great Elf clans were being ignored entirely. Clearly from before your latest shows adding more in. Those you set aside with the downright hate mail being put back into their envelopes you put into another pile all its own. All of which you sorted onto the same shelf in different cubbies.
By the time you got up to pull out one of the Dwarf countries outside of Erebor you couldn’t help but giggle at the handful of History Professors and enthusiasts critiquing your story while also praising the plot that in no way followed true history that had you barefoot and cross legged on your bed reading their thick packs of letters. All around positive but ready to stick up for the great clan’s history that you put in their own pile. A few nearly had you in tears you would save to finish for later as it delved into issues the writer was dealing with that somehow the story had helped them with. Hate mail was separated and the rest seemed mostly positive with a few collections of kids in between who had sent pictures or had mini requests or questions that you set aside to answer later.
Jumping from Dwarf territories to Hobbit ones you steadily got to the Erebor letters and started to work your way through it. More and more assumptions were made with hopes for possible future books only added to your hopes that the book would go well. The closer you got to Durin clan members the thicker the letters got with more than half with family attachments to certain events you had mentioned. In the mingled clan lines you couldn’t help but giggle finding letters from Gorgo, three to be exact, with two from Dain mentioning their wish to speak with you that you set aside for its own box. Fully sorted you sat back eyeing the now sorted mail and let out a deep breath wondering if this week would bring more or less mail.
Out of bed you climbed and added it to your study then went back to bed switching on a film to hopefully distract you from blushing so madly remembering what Mal’s father had shared about nicknames and the goal of earning a blush that had Thorin staring at you so intently. You had flirted, you had tried and it would be a lie that even with clashing cultures making him ignorant to your tries he had still turned you down seeming to wish to be nothing but a friend and bad influence on your pocket book.
*
“An offer of courtship! Mug Dealer! All this time!” Stripping down Thorin spoke through the walls to his brother while the boys stripped to their waists and had collapsed into deep sleep leaving Frerin smirking as his brother had just found out what was so obvious.
“Come on now, you knew!”
“Obviously I turned her down! Obviously or I would have had to have missed some clear markers that we’re courting? What if we are?! If I did?!” Thorin walked wide eyed and shirtless into the doorway after having dropped his boots and socks in his closet to stare at his brother, “What if I’ve missed steps?!”
Frerin smirked at him pulling off his boots he’d just unlaced, “You haven’t, because you aren’t courting. You have however spooned and she trusts you. It was obvious she liked you, that she was flirting and you did in return. She likes you and is wearing your token openly. Clearly she’s not quite the best with courting either, at least ours, don’t-,”
“Don’t tell me not to worry. She has half a house and tons of birds to take care of and hatchlings coming soon, including possibly Roac’s one day.”
Frerin stood crossing to his brother resting his hands on his shoulders, “Breathe, step one, take Roac over tomorrow, she’s got two weeks left on leave, find the time to tell her how you feel. She’s family, even if it takes longer than her leave, it’s a big step to court again. We all know the lows you got to before she strolled in for tea, you are happy with her, she’s happy with you, be happy.” Turning his brother around he said, “Now, let me help you with your horns so you can sleep and take Roac over tomorrow without being moody from staying up and brooding all night.”
“I-,”
“Are brooding and worrying about a woman who is already head over heels about you but just as timid in snagging you against your will as you’ve been convincing yourself you are with her.” He said undoing the braided lower half and working one side at a time to help remove the horns he left on his brother’s dresser. With a nudge he guided Thorin back to his own room saying, “Bed, Rin.” Thorin huffed and Frerin said, “If I don’t hear snoring in ten minutes I will come in here and snuggle with you until you go to sleep.”
To himself Thorin rumbled, “Oh ya, now I’m scared.”
“I heard that,” Frerin called back while Thorin undid and dropped his pants in the dark room at his younger brother cutting the lights off on him. Shutting his own off he went to plop on his own bed and hug his pillow listening for snoring with a smirk spreading at remembering you and Thorin writing out each other’s nicknames on the wall of wishes, a great sign for courting pairs to do that, especially before courting has officially begun.
Snores soon came through the wall and lasted for hours until an early morning shower led to lengthy primping for the Dwarf wondering if it would be too early to head over. Finding your number in his phone he gave you a call, biting his lip he waited through the rings and heard your waking grumble, “Morning Cuddle Monster.”
Instantly he was smirking remembering the morning waking up with you in Helms Deep. “Morning, I didn’t wake you did I?”
“No.” Again you sighed clearly shifting from under your covers to sit up, “Been up.”
Near to a hum he asked, “So not too early for me to drop by with Roac?”
“No,” you sighed out, “You and Roac are welcome whenever. I’ll be here.”
Pt 28
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Packless Monsters
TITLE: Packless Monsters
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 77/?
AUTHOR: nekoamamori
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a werewolf who ends up in the company of Loki in the Avenger’s tower after saving Pepper’s life
RATING: M
NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here
After months of work and planning, you finally made it to the night before your wedding. Your Asgardian wedding to be precise. After you got married on Asgard, you would be returning to Midgard to have a mating ceremony for the wolves.
There were a few wolves on Asgard with you as welcome guests. Wolves were cherished by the Asgardians, even by Odin. And Odin usually hated Midgardians in his realm. You’d respected that enough to only invite the four wolves you absolutely had to: your brother, Fenrir, and after much deliberation and still very reluctantly, you’d invited your mother as well.
Your mom wasn’t necessarily someone you’d had to invite, but you had your reasons for it. And Lady Sif was under strict orders from Loki and Thor to remove her from the realm if she so much as upset you. Part of the reason you’d invited her was the duty you felt toward family and pack. Much as you didn’t like her most of the time, she was still your mother and she had raised you. Even if she’d wanted to sell you off to an abusive asshole. Despite everything, you had to give her this one last chance to be a decent human being.
The other reason you’d wanted to invite her was much more selfish. You wanted to show her, to prove to her in terms that she could understand, how much better off you were now. How much better you were out of her control, away from the toxic pack and toxic alpha. You’d gotten your own life living on your own terms and you were thriving. You had everything she wanted and more. And she wasn’t going to get to benefit from a single penny of what you had now.
You knew she wouldn’t really understand, but it made you feel better, if a bit petty, to show off to her.
She had wanted you to marry Jareth, to wed the abusive asshole, just because he was going to be the next Alpha. Now you were marrying a prince who treated you like a queen, who also happened to be an alpha in his own right. You are part of Fenrir’s pack and that made you a princess among the wolves.
And she got absolutely nothing out of it, no status, no power, no prestige, because she’d been such a bitch to you.
Karma worked wonders.
But that night? That night you were drinking with your friends and family. Well, drinking with Dan. Ethan was a child by Asgardian standards as well as Midgardian, so he wasn’t drinking Asgardian booze.
And poor Dan hadn’t realized that he could actually get drunk on Asgardian booze. So he was actually shitfaced by the end of the night. You took it more easily, knowing what you were getting into. This gathering wasn’t as huge as the feast would be tomorrow night. You were gathered in one of the smaller dining halls, your brothers, mother, Fenrir, Loki, Thor, Sif, the warriors three, and the entire team of Avengers. Most of the Avengers were allowed to have a drink or two, they had high enough metabolisms to deal with the Asgardian alcohol, except poor Tony who so desperately wanted to try the booze, but wasn’t allowed since he was just human.
You told stories all night, staying up late and drinking together. You felt like this was a much better way to celebrate your upcoming wedding than a traditional bachelorette party. You didn’t need to see more naked men. You were going to have Loki for eternity. Enjoying an evening feasting and drinking with your friends and family was more than enough.
*
The next morning was a blur. You were woken early in Loki’s consort’s suite. Tradition demanded that you sleep in separate rooms and you wouldn’t get to see him until the actual wedding. Sleeping alone and waking alone hadn’t been difficult, but it would be the last night you had to do so.
You didn’t have time to think about it the second Frigga, Sif, and Nat came to wake you. Nat and Sif had ended up as your bridesmaids. You all had hair and makeup that morning, a light meal, hours getting ready and final dress fittings with magic. Frigga reminded you all of your parts. She wanted this day to go off without a hitch.
All too soon, you were standing before the double-doors to the throne room with Fenrir at your side. With your father dead, it was up to either your alpha or Dan to give you away. As the father of all wolves, Fenrir took that duty upon himself. Dan didn’t mind at all and gave way to his Alpha. “Are you ready, daughter?” Fenrir asked you while Sif and Nat took their positions, ready for the procession.
You nodded and beamed up at Fenrir. “I’ve never wanted anything more,” you reassured him. Loki was your choice. Was your wolf’s choice. Fenrir gave you a warm smile in return.
The procession music started and Nat and Sif left you to make their way down the long aisle to stand in their places as your bridesmaids. Once they were in place, the music changed and the double doors opened again and you slowly made your way down the long aisle full of nobles up to the throne where Loki waited for you. Your hand was on Fenrir’s arm as you walked together. You didn’t have to worry about falling on your face. Fenrir wouldn’t let you.
Loki was dressed in his formal finery, including his golden horned helmet. You had a very indecent thought of riding him while he was wearing nothing BUT that golden horned helmet, but that was definitely a thought for later. Right now you had to survive the ceremony.
At least Frigga had promised the ceremony would be short. The hand fasting was a simple ceremony.
You felt everyone’s eyes on you as they stood to watch you walk down the aisle and kept reminding yourself not to trip, to stand tall, to not drop your flowers. Your grip was tight on Fenrir’s arm. All of your thoughts left your head when Loki’s eyes caught yours, when you saw the love and adoration in his eyes, when it took every ounce of his self control to not let his mouth drop open when he saw you in your wedding dress. You took his open amazement for the compliment it was.
You made your way to him and handed your bouquet to Sif to hold. It was her job after all. Even if she had complained loudly about having to wear a dress. Loki had Thor and one of Thor’s warrior friends as his groomsmen and you weren’t at all surprised. Thor stood by Loki in everything, especially this, but Loki didn’t have many other friends.
You took Loki’s hands in yours and Frigga stepped up to you. She was the goddess of marriages, so she performed all weddings, especially noble weddings. “Today we come together to seal the bond of Prince Loki and Lady Y/N of Midgard in matrimony,” she looked at Loki. “Do you still wish to take Lady Y/N as your wife, my son?” She asked him warmly. This was a formality, of course Loki wanted to marry you.
He inclined his head. “I do,” he said with a bright honest smile. You loved seeing him so happy.
Freya turned to you next. “And do you still wish to take Prince Loki as your husband?” She asked just as warmly, just as formally.
You couldn’t take your eyes off of your Loki. “I do,” you replied, staring up at him. You couldn’t believe this was happening. It seemed like forever ago that you’d met him. It seemed like you knew him your entire life, though it also felt like no time at all had passed.
Frigga drew her golden cord from wherever she had hidden it and wrapped it gently around yours and Loki’s joined hands. “As your hands are bound together now, so your lives and spirits are joined in the commitment of love and trust. For always you hold in your own hands the fate of this union. Above you are stars and below you is earth. Like stars your love should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow. May these hands be blessed this day. May they always hold each other. May they have the strength to hang on during the storms of stress and the dark of disillusionment. May they remain tender and gentle as they nurture each other in their wondrous love. May they build a relationship founded in love, and rich in caring. May these hands be healer, protector, shelter, and guide for each other,” it was the traditional hand fasting ceremony on Asgard. She unbound your hands and handed you each a ring. “As you cannot be bound together physically for the rest of your lives, may these rings be a symbol of your eternal connection,” Frigga told you both. Loki lifted your left hand and slipped the slim ring onto your ring finger. It matched your engagement ring perfectly. You did the same, slipping his wedding band onto his left hand as well. Both rings were gold, as you couldn’t wear silver.
“May I present to you for the first time, Prince Loki and his wife, Princess Y/N. Loki, you may kiss your bride,” she announced. Loki dipped you backwards and kissed you well to roars of applause from the gathered nobles and dignitaries, plus your friends and family.
Once the kiss was over, the pair of you led the procession to the feast. You had a table to yourselves, but only got to eat when Thor and your friends held the well-wishers at bay long enough for you to get some food. The night was wonderful and full of dancing, plenty of drinks, and an occasional bite of something to eat. Mostly, you accepted your well-wishes from your friends and family, and of course the thousand.
Loki growled at Thor when his brother approached carrying Mjolnir. “It’s tradition, brother!” Thor replied innocently, then laid Mjolnir on your lap to the cheers of the crowd. You looked at Loki confused. This seemed an odd thing to be cheering.
“It is tradition for Mjolnir or a replica of it to be placed in the lap of the bride as a prayer to Thor for offspring,” he explained. You were still confused so he continued. “My idiot brother is the god of Thunder. He’s also the god of fertility,” Loki explained. You could infer from there that the hammer was a symbol of fertility. A blush colored your cheeks at that information, which just had the crowd cheering harder.
That was more information than you really wanted to know about your brother-in-law.
At the end of the evening, Thor’s idiot friends, Fenrir, your Asgardian friends, and Thor himself lifted the pair of you on their shoulders to carry you to Loki’s suite. You found out later that it was tradition to escort the newlyweds to the marriage bed to ensure the marriage was consummated. At least you didn’t have to do that in front of them. Because that wouldn’t happen. Ever.
Though Fenrir would be able to verify by scent if he really wanted to. You knew he was polite enough not to. Besides, tomorrow was your mating ceremony on Midgard.
Your lips met Loki’s the second you were alone and you weren’t sure who initiated the kisses, which of you initiated more than kisses, or where your clothes disappeared off to. That wasn’t important at the moment. All that mattered was that you and Loki were finally married and you were taking each other to your marriage bed.
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Golden Cuffs 45: The Escape
Cover art by @paradigmparadoxical
Rumbelle Dark Castle BDSM AU
Belle is free
Read on AO3
When Belle awoke, the late morning sun gleamed through the eastern windows. For the first time in ages, she smiled when she opened her eyes. For the first time in ages, she was glad to wake up. After stretching out her arms and legs, Belle hopped out of bed. She felt refreshed and ready to face the day.
Before she sat down to breakfast, Belle changed her bloody rags for clean ones. Then she went to her table and put her hands over the magic bowl. She thought of warm porridge, sweetened with raspberries and cream. The bowl provided as it always did, and Belle ate heartily.
When she was done with her meal, she decided to dress for the day. She would dress properly, too. She hadn’t worn her stockings and shoes since the day Rumpelstiltskin had given them to her, but now she put them both on and felt all the better for it. She wore the blue dress as well, tying up the stays at the bodice.
Amazing how much it all helped her feel more like herself. In these past few weeks of wallowing in her sorrows, Belle had neglected the simple routine of caring for herself. From now on, she knew, it would be best to get up when she awoke, to eat when she was hungry and stop when she was full. She would put on clothes that made her feel like she was ready for the day. If she did that, perhaps every day would have her feeling as good as she did now. In this moment, there was a vitality in her that she had thought was gone forever.
As a final touch, she even put on her mother’s necklace. With her eyes closed, Belle ran the pendant of unicorn horn through the fine golden chain, just like Mama used to. She took a deep breath and set to cleaning up.
She checked to see that her bedsheets were free of stains before she straightened them over the mattress and folded her blanket neatly on her bed. There wasn’t much that needed to be set to rights in this room where magic held sway, but Belle felt better for making an effort.
The shelf over her pillow was overstuffed with books, stories she had already read and had meant to put away for days now. With a good-natured huff at her past self, Belle picked up the stack of books and carried them over to the wall by the door.
Most of the books in her arms were horror stories. She had read tales of other people’s misery to distract herself from her own, or to feel the suffering resonate inside her own soul. There was a dark comfort to be found in such things. These stories helped her know that she was not alone in spirit, even as she was utterly isolated in body.
But she didn’t need them now, not today at least. These books could be like the dinner knife that was still hidden in one of these shelves--a means of last resort, that she could be grateful she would never use.
Seeking comfort, Belle’s free hand went up to the necklace at her throat. When Rumpelstiltskin had given it back to her, he’d said it was to show that she was her own again. Of course, he’d said that mere minutes before ordering her to stay in the library forever and never pleasure herself again. For a long time, she had thought his declaration of her self-ownership was nothing but a cruel irony. But now she understood him a little better. She was her own, even in this prison. The Dark One had condemned her to this fate, but he could not control what she did with it. That lesson had been a long time in coming. She probably wouldn’t have realized it at all if she hadn’t been able to bring herself pleasure last night.
The last book in her stack fell out of her hands with a thud.
“No,” Belle whispered to herself. “No that can’t be right. I’m…” She looked down at the cuffs. They were loose on her wrists, the bands looked thinner than ever before. They were still golden, but they had never looked so much like stalks of straw. If an object could appear frail and sickly, the cuffs were surely on their deathbed.
“It can’t be,” she said out loud. With shaking breaths, Belle ran her hands over her blue dress and cupped her mound over the layers of cloth. A month ago, the cuffs would have pulled her hands away. But last night she had touched herself. Last night, she had brought her body to a trembling pleasure.
Last night, she had disobeyed Rumpelstiltskin’s direct order.
“What?” The word was as soft and half-formed as a breath. Belle’s thoughts ran faster than her mouth could articulate. What did this mean? What had happened? Why had the magic failed?
What other magic wasn’t working anymore?
Belle’s eyes flicked to the door, but she backed away from it slowly. Instead, she forced herself to breathe, to stay calm, to not get too excited, as she walked over to the stairs. She went up to the window and pulled the lever so it opened. The scent of spring came through with the fresh air. It smelled like growth. It smelled like hope.
The cuffs had kept her in the library. They had prevented her from even sticking her head out the window. But that was before.
Now, tentatively, Belle splayed her hands and reached out through the window and into the open air. She felt the tingle of the protection spell against her skin, the spell that kept everything out.
But nothing kept her in.
Her breath now came in pants--in heaving, dry gasps that were all of them both a sob and a laugh. Nothing kept her in! The cuffs were useless now! She was--she could be--!
Without another thought, Belle ran down the stairs to the door. Both hands gripped the handle and she turned it and it opened. Laughing now, giddy beyond imagining, Belle swung open the door and bolted out of the library like a djinn freed from its lamp.
Again, she felt the protection spell tingling around her, but nothing held her back. There was nothing from the cuffs, not even the slightest pull. Belle ran and danced through the hallways, passing room after familiar room. The castle was her home and she had been kept away from it for too long. But she was home now. She was back!
It was only when she came upon the dining room that her exhilaration dimmed. Rumpelstiltskin’s chair was pulled out from the table, as though he had just been interrupted. On the corner of the table closest to where Belle stood, there was a leather bag. The leather was soft and light brown. It reminded her of his loosest-cut trousers, his most comfortable-looking boots. There was a blue ribbon woven around the edge of the bag, the same blue as Belle’s eyes, the same blue as the dress he had given her.
Belle picked the bag up by its thin straps to examine it better. A design had been worked into the front flap--the image of a blooming rose on a thorny vine. Somehow, Belle thought that this bag was meant for her. When she pulled back the flap and saw the contents, she knew she wasn’t wrong.
The first item she pulled out was a travel cloak. Light blue and yellow threads were woven together to make a pattern of green leaves in the heavy fabric. She wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and fastened it with silver clasps at her neck. A hood gathered behind her head. Though the cloak was warm and durable, it was light on her small frame. The hem ended below her skirt, but well above her shoes. This lovely thing wasn’t going to drag on the ground and get muddy. It fit her as though it had been made for her. There were slits in the cloth for her arms to come out and, near the arm holes--pockets! Belle stuck her hands in the pockets and twisted her body back and forth for a moment, enjoying the swish of the fabric following her movements.
There was a pair of red leather gloves in the bag as well. Belle tried one on and found that it fit her exactly like a glove was supposed to. The cuffs were now so wide that she could pull them up her arm and then let them fall back down over the gloves. The leather on her hands was loose enough for movement, but tight enough for her to keep control. In her father’s castle, the glover had despaired of Belle’s tiny hands, saying that she would be better off with a child’s mittens than anything made for a grown woman. But these fit perfectly.
As perfectly as magic could make them.
Pressing her lips together, Belle looked into the bag again. There were several wrapped bundles, a piece of black parchment, and a cloth pouch that tied with a drawstring. She left those things alone. Altogether, there was much more in this bag than should ever have been able to fit.
The last thing Belle took out was a pair of walking boots. They matched the gloves, rich red-brown leather that would compliment her hair. In the spirit of experimentation, Belle sat down on the floor and took off her blue shoes so she could see how these boots fit.
Of course they were perfect. There was no need to break them in, no question that they could ever be worn by someone else. They had been made for her feet. Everything she wore had been made by a man who had intimate knowledge of her body. He had measured her with his gaze a thousand times, had held her hands in his hands so often that he knew the shape of them--even after all this time. Rumple had made her clothes that suited her beautifully, that matched her eyes and her hair and her skin. He had made these things for her. He was giving them to her.
He was equipping her to leave the castle.
The thought struck through Belle like an arrow tipped with poison. Black dread spread out from her heart and filled her completely. That was it, wasn’t it? He wanted her to leave. If she wouldn’t stay in her prison, he was giving her the opportunity to go elsewhere, anywhere, as long as it was away from him.
“Oh, you bastard,” Belle whispered. “Do you think you’ll be rid of me that easily?”
She tossed her blue shoes into the bag and slung it over her shoulder. Of course the bag weighed nothing. She turned on her heel and stormed off to find Rumpelstiltskin.
Since he wasn’t in the dining room, the surest place to find him would be in the tower where he spun his precious straw into gold. On the landing before the tower, she passed the twin bedrooms--one luxurious and unused, the other mostly destroyed in anger. He had never taken her to either one. When the cuffs had worked, they had kept her from even entering the angry room. Even when she had been utterly at his mercy, Rumpelstiltskin had protected her from the worst of his rage.
Had he ever thought he would need to protect himself from her anger?
The door to the tower opened without resistance. Even from the bottom of the steps, she heard the whir of his spinning wheel. With a deep breath, Belle started up the curved staircase.
Pure habit made her stop just before the last step. Before, she wouldn’t have dared to invade Rumpelstiltskin’s space without an invitation. She used to hate disturbing him. She was still cautious, even now. Even as her fury steamed off of her, even as the fact of her standing there was an act of defiance.
His back was to her. He sat at the wheel in front of the windows--windows, Belle now realized, that matched the ones in the library. The bobbin on the spindle was only just starting to fill with gold. He spun from dawn until dusk and he didn’t like to be interrupted. It was how he measured time, how he forgot about his troubles.
But Belle was one trouble that would not be forgotten. Boldly, she stepped over the threshold into his room.
“Rumpelstiltskin,” she announced her presence stonily. So many people were afraid to say his name, afraid to call on him and invite him into their lives. But Belle had been calling him for weeks without answer, until she had given up hope and despaired and blamed herself for his cruelty. But no more.
The wheel stopped. The Dark One twirled around on his stool to face her.
“Ah!” he said with artificial brightness. “You’ve finally escaped! How clever! Well done, dearie!”
Dearie. If he had struck her across the face, it would have been less of an insult than that stupid false endearment. Belle squared her jaw. So that was how it was to be. That was how he wanted to treat her, after everything they’d been through. Once, she remembered, he had called her sweetheart.
Belle’s gloved hands balled into fists as she took a step closer.
“I disobeyed you, Dark One.”
His face remained an impassive mask, the image of a demon grinning in perverse pleasure. “Had to happen sooner or later!”
She took another step toward him. “Do you care?” she asked. Her voice sounded leaden, heavy with all the meaning that went unspoken. “Do you care that I broke your rules? I disobeyed your order, Rumpelstiltskin!” His name came out as a strangled shriek.
But his expression didn’t change. He stayed nonchalant as he shrugged. “That’s not a game worth playing anymore.”
Belle’s mouth fell open, her anger momentarily quailing under the force of her despair. Not worth it. He admitted it. He said the words that she had wrestled with for all those weeks in the library. She wasn’t worth it. He didn’t want her anymore.
Bastard!
Her anger resurfaced as quickly as it had vanished. “Why did you lock me away? You could have let me go if you didn’t want me. You could have turned me into a fucking snail and squashed me! Why did you leave me alive and alone and helpless?”
He was still for a moment. His smile stayed the same, though his head wobbled like a toy on a spring. “Hardly helpless,” he said with the same false brightness. “You survived! You weren’t even there that long! And now it’s all over and all will be well!”
It’s all over. Blood pounded in Belle’s ears. She shook her head and closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill over and drown her. She shouted instead: “What is this? Why are you doing this to me, Rumple? What the hell is going on?”
Leaping to his feet, the Dark One struck a theatrical pose. “Why, it’s a happy ending, of course! The virtuous heroine breaks the enchantment cast upon her by the monstrous villain! She escapes from her prison and goes out into the world, to have more adventures in the great, wide, somewhere!” He snapped his head to look at her, his eyes sharp and glaring. “Isn’t it grand, dearie? You’re free!”
Belle gaped at him. “What?”
“The spell is broken.” He gestured at her cuffs, thin and useless on her wrists. “No magic binds you anymore. You may go anywhere and do anything you like. You. Are. Free.”
“Free,” she repeated slowly. Her body began to tremble, all her emotions too much for her to control or even comprehend. He was setting her free--but freedom meant she would never be with him again. “But what about our deal?”
The Dark One shrugged, waved his hands dismissively. “It’s done with. The service you’ve put in has been more than enough to pay for saving your little town.”
“But...” Belle’s voice shook. “But you made me promise to go with you forever.”
“Well, I’m altering the deal! I can do that!” The sing-song tone did little to conceal his irritation.
Belle stood in the center of the room, her brow furrowed, her mind reeling as she tried to understand. Why was Rumple letting her go? Even if he didn’t want to use her, he still owned her, didn’t he? Deals with the Dark One were binding down to the very soul. And he was just… giving her up? Like she was nothing?
“But I love you,” she whispered, too overcome to even think of denying it anymore.
And it was true. The fire in her heart had burned down to ash and embers, but there was still a spark that loved him. If Rumple wanted to, he could fan the flames and build up the fire again. If he apologized, if he explained himself, if he treated her with kindness, if he acted like he loved her in return--then Belle would gladly give her heart to him again. If he just told her that he wanted her heart, if he just promised to treasure it, it would be his.
Instead, the Dark One grimaced. He looked repulsed, disgusted by the idea of love, by the idea of her. As he looked at her longer, his disgust turned to pity. Somehow, that was worse.
“Of course you do.” He sounded about to gag. “You are a loving creature, and you were desperate for companionship. If I had enchanted the teacups and candlesticks to talk to you, you would have fallen in love with them!” Giggling, he turned away from her, standing at his wheel but not yet spinning.
Belle clenched her fists again. She took a step toward him. “Is that what you think? Is that what you think of me? Of yourself? Of--of what we had together? Because you cannot deny that there was something there!”
He didn’t turn around, so she went on.
“And it was more than just pleasure. And it was more than just my loneliness. You were lonely too, don’t deny it! You enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed yours.”
He said nothing. His back was to her, unmoving as a closed door.
“We were happy,” Belle said softly. “We could have been happy together for a long time. We--” she shook her head, feeling foolish even to imagine such things. “We could have belonged together.”
At that, Rumpelstiltskin sat down at the spinning wheel, picked up a handful of straw, and began to spin. Belle watched him for a moment, her blood pounding in her ears.
“Or perhaps you’re right.” She swallowed down her bile. “Perhaps I’ve been wrong about you this whole time. Perhaps there are no layers to you, no mystery to be uncovered. Perhaps there is nothing more to you than an empty heart and a chipped cup.”
He didn’t respond. She wanted to run up to the wheel, to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. She wanted to force him to look her in the eye and tell her the truth. She wanted to hurt him--physically would be best, but emotionally would do in a pinch.
But she stayed still, unwilling to let her passions rule her. If the Dark One’s chosen weapon was coldness, then she would show him they were equally matched.
“If I’m not worth the price to you, Rumpelstiltskin,” she said with solemn dignity, “then you are not worth it to me.”
She turned to go, but after three steps, she heard his voice: “Wait.”
Belle stopped. Slowly, her heart pounding, she turned around. “Yes?”
He was still at the wheel, his back to her. One hand twisted the straw, but the other was extended out. One scaly finger pointed at the worktable, at a small glass vial.
“You may take that,” he said stiffly. “One last recompense.”
Curiosity outweighing her anger, Belle strode over to the table to examine the vial. She picked it up in her gloved hand and saw a collection of coarse powders half-filling the glass. She had seen this concoction before.
“It’s the memory potion,” she said quietly. “The cure for a broken heart.”
Rumpelstiltskin didn’t look at her, but he did nod. “You should add three of your hairs, and then fill the bottle with clean water. It works best if you drink it slowly, over the course of one day. When you wake up the next morning, everything I’ve ever done to you will be nothing but a bad dream. You can forget everything.”
Belle was aware of her thundering heartbeat, of the awful tightening in her chest as she looked down at the vial in her hand. Her leather glove squeezed around the glass, almost hard enough to break it. She wanted to break it. She wanted to see the evil thing shatter into a thousand pieces.
Instead, she set it down carefully on the table.
“What about my scars?” She didn’t have enough air in her lungs for more than a breathy whisper. “There are marks on my body, permanent marks from you. Will I forget how I got them? Will I forget how you beat me bloody and sewed my flesh with gold? Will I forget how I lost my virginity, Rumpelstiltskin?”
He had stopped spinning, but he didn’t look at her. His back was ramrod straight, his shoulders squared against her assault.
“How dare you think that I would choose to forget you! That I would cut out a section of my own mind just to ease your conscience!” Her breath was coming easier now, words and volume pouring from her in equal measure. “How dare you ask me to forget that I loved you. Do you know me so little that you think I would want such a thing? Do you--”
She cut herself off. He wasn’t listening to her now, no more than he had been while she was in the library. And Belle would not beg for his attention.
“You know what?” she said instead. “Keep it. Keep your potion. You can take it. You can forget me if you like, if it makes any difference! In fact, you can keep all of your magic! Keep your straw and your gold and your orders and your mysteries. Keep your pleasure, keep your games, keep your--”
Belle looked down at the cuffs on her arms. They were so loose now she had to be careful how she moved her hands. She had to fight to keep them on her wrists.
But she wouldn’t fight the inevitable anymore.
With a weary sigh, Belle let her hands fall to her sides. The cuffs slipped off her wrists and clattered to the ground. She looked down at them, the thin, useless bands of gold that were really just straw. Everything had been just an illusion, and now the magic was gone.
It was all over.
She was free.
“You can keep the cuffs,” Belle said, as she turned away from the Dark One forever. “But I will keep my heart.”
****
After that it was all a blur. Belle ran down the stairs, tears clouding her vision, her cloak flapping behind her like a battle flag. She bolted out of the tower, through the dining room, into the foyer and out the door. Cruel words rang in her ears: That’s the way out, you won’t be using it! But she went through all the same.
Nothing stopped her.
Belle stormed through the courtyard and the center avenue. The gates out of the castle were wide open, waiting for her exit. A dirt road lead down from the rocky mountain into forested hills. Belle let her legs carry her, comfortable in her boots as her mind seethed and raged and mourned.
She spent a night in the forest, sleeping in the hollow of a fallen chestnut tree. It was only when she stopped moving that she began to wonder what she was going to do next.
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For this week’s @finnreyfridays theme: Forest and gifted to @errrbodylovesfinn. This is a multi-chapter folklore AU without a current update schedule, as the first draft is still being written.
The full first chapter can be read on AO3. Below is a preview of the story.
“Run this by me one more time, so I’m certain I understand.”
Poe sighed as he tugged at his coat sleeves. “We’ve gone through this how many times? Come on, you know this.”
They stood outside the festivity tent for the noblemen and royals who were joining in on the fun, adjusting their outfits last minute. Finn wasn’t too concerned about his clothes so much as the mask settled over his face. He would admit he hadn’t been so sure about showing up as a ram, and the curling horns sitting on either side of his head made the mask a little heavy, but with the finishing touches of his green tunic with gold embroidery, he thought it looked nice.
Next to him, Poe fiddled with his bronze stag mask. “How ‘bout you walk me through it this time?”
“Fine,” Finn agreed, and he spoke as he pulled at the gold band around his neck. “So Féile Óir is a festival to honor the God of Fortune, but each night celebrates local minor gods for the blessings they give each year.”
“That’s right.” Poe smiled underneath his mask. “And what’s tonight’s god?”
The prince pointed to his friend's mask. “The God of the Hunt, who often takes the form of a stag. Tonight’s celebration will end in a hunt, of course.”
“Correct. And tomorrow’s celebration?”
“The wolf god, for his blessings upon the community.” Finn scratched his neck. “I can’t recall who’s next.”
“The cattle goddess, but we need not remember them all up front.” Poe winked at him. “We can just take each night as it comes.”
Finn was thankful for that. While he always tried to respect each culture he came across as much as he could show, sometimes, large amounts of new information at once could be overwhelming to him. These gods weren’t the ones of his kingdom, though he found some similarities between them.
“I guess there’s no more stalling,” he sighed as he went to move the tent flap to the side and take a peek. Already, a crowd had amassed, picking tables to sit at for the feast that was soon to start. Though the point of the masks was to confuse people of who they were sitting by, he perceived that many people could pick out their family members in a crowd or know what mask they were wearing prior.
Almost to prove his point, he spotted his sister already at a table to the other side of the tent. It was too easy to figure her out. The golden horse mask was a dead giveaway.
“I see Jannah,” he announced to Poe. “We can sit next to her.”
Leading the way inside, Finn quietly circled around the side of the tent until he got to her and swung his leg over the long bench so he could sit. “Why the long face, sister?” he greeted with a snicker.
She groaned. “Finn, if you continue with your bad humor, I might have to turn you away at the wedding, lest my fiancé decide he’d rather not marry into such an annoying family.”
Shrugging, Finn relented. “Very well. I’m sure Theron has already warned them about me.” Their older brother had gone to Yavin ahead of time to oversee the preparations and to work on the marriage contract, hence he was not joining his family at the festival. Finn didn’t mind so much since he and his brother were not close. Theron was many years older than him and Jannah, their parents having difficulty conceiving children after him for a time. By the time Finn was old enough to really form a relationship with his brother, he was already beginning his royal service and was gone most of the time.
Looking over his mask, Jannah frowned. “A ram?”
“Something wrong?” Finn felt dread run down his spine.
“Not at all. I’m just surprised. I thought you would choose a creature more aquatic, for home.”
“And what about you, horse-woman?” he challenged. “Everyone knew what you would wear.”
Poe interjected, “It suits you though.” And really, Finn was in agreement with him. His sister was one of the most accomplished equestrians in the kingdom, a talented hunter and racer. Theron was probably establishing a clause in her marriage contract that she would continue her hobbies and talents without interference by the Yavinese royal family, though Finn doubted they were dumb enough to ask. They would probably want her to train their horses and compete in their own circuits.
Pleased with Poe’s comment, Jannah hummed. “For that, I owe you a dance. Could you please do me a favor though and teach my brother how to be just as charming?”
Feigning hurt, Finn countered, “I am charming.”
His sister’s tilted head said otherwise.
A group of people swarmed into the tent and began to sit themselves down at random, prompting the three to be quiet as they regarded the guests and observed the masks and outfits parade in front of them.
Two women dressed in cat masks – one black and one white – sat down across from them. Judging by the similarity of their outfits and their sleek black hair, Finn figured they were sisters, or at least closely related. While the woman in the black mask was friendly with them, the other was not and would turn her partner away to chat privately with her from time to time.
“I don’t suppose anyone’s made an announcement of when the feast is to start?” asked the woman in the black mask. “We got here only a few hours ago and have worked up an appetite.”
“Shouldn’t be too long now,” said Finn. “Once they herald in the royal families, they’ll start bringing food out.” His parents would sit up with the royal family of Takodana - distant relatives of his father - along with some other visitors while their children were allowed to mingle with other guests. It was nice to not worry about formalities and getting rank and hierarchies right.
Just as he was thinking this, trumpet rang through the tent and everyone stood up. The elderly queen of Takodana, Maz was the first inside, wearing a golden doe mask that seemed to be an heirloom of sorts. A valet offered his hand to help her sit down and her seat, but she walked by him and sat herself down, prompting a couple of quiet chuckles throughout the benches. Queen Maz was well known for her fire and wisdom and she would not let age slow her down.
His parents were the next to be ushered in, his father too broad of a man to go unnoticed. On his arm, his mother walked beside him with the grace she was best known for. Many said Finn got his gentleness from her. They both wore masks that were carved with sea creatures instead of looking like the face of one particular animal. On his father’s mask, he could see the outline of sharks hunting fish. For his mother’s, silver dolphins swam playfully.
They sat on either side of Queen Maz to be her main company. Finn wondered how often his father communicated with his cousin and if they had much to catch up on.
Once everyone was settled, Queen Maz stood up and gestured for them to sit down. Silence spread about the room, the guests waiting to see if the queen would make a speech or call to prayer.
“I suppose you’re all expecting me to say a few words, but I know you don’t really care about what an old woman thinks.” She held up her hands. “Blessings of the gods upon you all.”
Many of the guests hooted in delight, thanking the queen as the first courses of the feast were brought out on large platters. Plates of meat, a cooked boar and wild game, sometimes needing multiple servers to bring them out. Roasted vegetables, bowls of salads, fried potatoes that smelled heavenly from where Finn was sitting. All of it looked delicious.
He helped himself to spiced wine and some of those potatoes and vegetables first. Savoring their taste and how they practically melted in his mouth. Then, he moved on to the heavier meats, selecting a pair of drumsticks for himself while he sat back and watched everyone around him. Playing a game with himself, Finn gazed upon the masks and their wearers and tried to guess by their mannerisms and clothing where they were from and whether they were royal or noble.
Between this and the conversations he had around his table, the time between courses passed pleasantly. Soon, a quartet of musicians were ushered in and given time to set up their instruments as excited whispers echoed through the tent. He could see a few people glance toward others, knowing they were eyeing their prospect dance partners.
This was the part Finn dreaded the most. Sure, he had to learn dances like every other royal, but that didn’t mean he was good at it. He had embarrassed himself and a few dance partners enough to know that anyone with any knowledge of his skills would shy away from him.
True to her word, as tables were moved away to allow space for dancers, Jannah paired herself up with Poe. Normally, the first dance was reserved for suitors, spouses, or fiancés, but since Jannah’s husband-to-be was not here and the masks concealed identities, it didn’t matter much.
Glancing around the room to see if anyone was looking for a partner, Prince Finn perceived a sudden sensation of shyness that kept him from approaching anyone. Without his identity concealed, everyone was aware he was a prince and didn’t dare to turn him away, now he wondered without that to ensure success in finding a partner, would anyone be interested in a young man in a ram mask?
The quiet woman in the white cat mask approached him, acting almost as shy as he was feeling.
“Do you have a partner?” she asked him.
Finn glanced over at his father for a moment and made direct eye contact with him. King Caeid nodded slightly, making it clear he wanted his son to be sociable.
He hoped the woman didn’t catch on to his initial hesitance. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. Holding his hand out for her to cover it with her own, Finn led the woman to the dance floor.
Quickly, the woman realized what a poor choice of a partner he was and her annoyance became evident along where her mouth was visible. She tried to help him out, but it was hopeless and he tried his best to avoid stepping on her. Embarrassed, the prince tried to focus on something besides his feet and ended up staring at the unusual pendant around her neck, trying to place if it represented her culture or not.
When the song ended, the woman slipped to the side of her sister and didn’t ask him to dance again. He sat alone along the benches for a time while Poe and Jannah switched off with different partners. Everyone must have seen the performance he gave because no one else came along to ask him. His father would probably chastise him later and get his another dance teacher to salvage what little skills the prince possessed.
“Excuse me,” a woman’s deep voice came from behind him. “Would you dance with me?”
Shocked anyone would offer, Finn turned around to see who was asking, thinking they must be blind.
Speechless upon first glance, Finn beheld her. As simple as the cream-colored dress skimming over her slender figure was, he might have mistaken her for a commoner if it weren’t for the golden fur draped around her shoulders. Her draping bell sleeves were tattered strategically, making the fabric hang like streamers.
Then, he stared at her mask. Cat-like, it had an ancient regal appearance with a squared profile. It took him a moment to realize he had seen the design before from the old carving of the goddess he had expressed gratitude to earlier in the day. In fact, the mask the woman wore was almost exactly the same as the one carved into the shrine.
She was not dressed as a cat; she was a forest lioness. He wondered if the fur around her shoulders was also of a forest lion.
He hoped he wasn’t gaping at her, but he found her beautiful even if he couldn’t see her face. All he could tell about her was she had tan skin and chestnut hair. Takodana had many ethnic cultures in its kingdom, so he wondered if she was local or if she was from the northern kingdoms.
Realizing he was probably taking too long to speak and about to spark awkwardness between them, he stood up. “Are you sure?” he asked her.
Mask covering her entire face, Finn could not see her reaction. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Did you not see how I danced earlier?” Finn felt embarrassed. “I was appalling.”
Expecting her to reconsider and leave, the prince braced himself for rejection. She surprised him again.
“Maybe you just need the right dance partner,” she mused and held out her hand. “I can’t say I’m great myself; we’ll probably be a good match.”
Her forwardness shocked him, and he hesitated a moment before he held his own hand out to take hers. Staring at her, he glimpsed hazel eyes flecked with gold under the lion mask and found her mesmerizing.
Leading her out to the dance area, he caught Poe’s eye and saw him smiling at him.
The music began and Finn and the woman made quick bows to one another before they circled around, allowing their flat palms to touch at a vertical angle. Their gazes linked as they continued this step.
“What is your name?” Finn found he couldn’t help but ask.
There was a smile in her answer. “I believe that’s against custom,” she told him. “The point of the masks is to hide who we are.”
“My apologies,” he spluttered.
“Not needed,” she said. “I suppose it’s not against rules if you guess my name, however.”
Finn couldn’t help but laugh. “And how am I to do that? I know nothing about you.”
“There are ways,” she said. “You seem like a clever man.” Then, when they drew closer in their steps, she whispered, “I saw what you did for the old shrine in the forest. You were very kind to care.”
He gasped, not thinking anyone else had been out there. His eyes caught the flowers woven carefully into her hair, small, white, and star-shaped. The same flowers he had offered to the shrine as a token of his gratitude.
“So how is this fair? You know who I am, but I don’t know who you are?”
She laughed, a cross between a giggle and a chuckle. “Maybe not fair, exactly. Fun might be a better word.” Remaining silent for a moment, she spoke again after she placed her hand on Finn’s shoulder. “How about this: you get a guess each night, and if you guess wrong, I give you a hint.”
“And if I guess correctly?”
“I’ll give you a reward worth your while,” she promised him. “So how about it? Care to venture a guess?”
Thinking about it, Finn didn’t see the harm in guessing her name. If anything, it made him a lot more curious about her. He started to come up with names in his head he knew were common in this area for someone that resembled her.
Finally, he selected at random. “Kira?”
Like he figured, he guessed wrong. “Sorry,” she told him, amusement in her voice. “Here’s your hint.” Leaning in, she whispered in his ear. “We’ve already met, but I did not look as I do now.”
Taken aback, he asked, “Are you Artorian? Am I allowed to ask a question?”
Pausing, she considered for a moment before replying, “No.” Though when Finn thought about it, it could have been a response for either question.
When the dance ended, she backed away. “See? You’re not a bad dancer after all.”
The prince swayed as if coming out of a trance. Being so caught up in her game, he almost forgot he was dancing too. For the first time he could recall, his movements were smooth and effortless.
“Must have had the right dance partner,” he told her.
He could hear another smile in her response. “I’m glad I won’t have to search for a partner every night. Tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow.”
If he didn’t know better, the woman swayed her hips a bit more to tease him as she walked away.
Finn was so caught up with staring at her that he didn’t notice Poe approaching until he felt a strong pat on his back.
“Hey, who’s the girl?” he asked. “You two looked like you were enjoying each other.”
“Dunno,” said Finn. “I didn’t get her name.”
“Too bad. You two made quite the pair. The lioness and the ram.” Poe pretended to swoon dramatically. “Like a fairy tale.”
“Poe-" Finn felt exasperated.
“It wasn’t just me,” his friend added. “Everyone was watching you. I think your parents were scheming with Queen Maz once they laid eyes on you.”
At the dais, Finn noticed his parents lean back to talk to one another. His father staring at him through the corner of his eye. Well, he supposed he couldn’t be surprised. The festival was a place where nobles of multiple kingdoms mingled together; it was an opportunity of scouting out prospect matches for marriages.
Turning around to search for the woman again, Finn found she was nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, Finn hadn’t seen her at the feast earlier either.
She said they had met before, but she had appeared different. Finn’s brain waded through memories and tried to think of every woman he had ever met that matched her profile, realizing there were too many that fit the description but none were like her in action and words. Perhaps he had ran into her somewhere outside the tent where the nobles stayed their nights. Maybe she was one of the merchants selling outside and snuck in to join them.
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Session Summary - 77
AKA “The Strength Of The Anvil”
Adventures in Taggeriell
Session 77 (Date: 24th January 2020)
Players Present:
- Rob (Known as “Varis”) Elf Male.
- Bob (Known as “Sir Krondor) Dwarf Male.
- Paul (Known as “Labarett”) Elf Male.
- Arthur (Known as “Gim”) Dwarf Male.
- Travis (Known as “Trenchant”) Human Male.
- John (Known as “Ragnar”) Dwarf Male.
Absent Players
Nil
NPC
- (Known as “Naillae”) Elf Female. <Controlled by Travis>
Summary
- Toilday, 9th Pharast in the year 815 (Second Era). Spring.
- The party begin this session, in the late evening, having left the Yuan-ti Nest Complex to return to the Tomb Of Diderius.
- The party once again speak to Diderius, Mummy Lord, and their conduct and behaviour pleases Diderius, and the party is allowed to proceed safely through. Varram The White mumbles something about a “dagger” in his confused state and the party search an area of wall near the empty pool and find an enchanted Dragontooth Dagger, an important symbol of status within the Cult Of The Dragon Queen. When Varram sees the dagger he finally snaps out of his confused state and is once again lucid.
- Returning to the group of Devils guarding the unexplored bloody stairs downwards, with Varram now safely secured, blind folded, gagged and hidden from view in a sack, Trenchant disguises himself as Varram and orders the Devils to go outside to “find and bring back beasts of burden.” The Devils leave the Tomb and with the lack of suitable animals in the Serpent Hills will probably be engaged in that activity for a very long time.
- The party proceed through the room with the large golden sentinel. Opening a set of double stone doors, they find an ancient library. Upon entering, a Ghost appears which is visibly upset and emotionally unstable. The Ghost is most concerned about guarding her books, even though all the shelves are empty. The party learn that this Ghost, Ilda, was killed in the library trying to stop a band of robbers from stealing all her books. Not all the books were present in the library however, as Ilda mentions that Diderius had a quantity of books on loan, which he would have had in his private room.
- The party agree to help Ilda in retrieving her books back, except for Sir Krondor who unwisely tells her outright that he has no intention of bringing her books back. When she hears this, she erupts into furry, her face contorting into a Horrifying Visage which the party reel against. Labarett and Sir Krondor suffer from the gaze, each instantly ageing twenty years. Sir Krondor is now 108 years old, nearing middle age for a Dwarf and Labarett is now 141 years old. Ragnar manages to calm down the Ghost and reassures her that they will indeed bring her books back.
- The party return to the unexplored downward bloody stairs and proceed with caution to a stone door, blocked with a single iron spike, which the party remove. Entering the room beyond they find the private quarters for Diderius. When some of the party enter, they are attacked by the appearance of a group of Wraiths and Spectres. These undead foes, which were so deadly to Varram and his men, prove no match for the party now that they have a Cleric Of The Light. Ragnar fills the room with Daylight, which forces the undead to cower. Quickly the party dispatch the spirits thanks to their magic weapons and soon the room is quiet again.
- There is a large pile of old leather bound books and within this Ragnar finds the ancient book he was searching for but the ink is so old and faded that it can not be read. He does find two faded illustrations within the book, perhaps this is a clue to where to look next for the Sun Blade he seeks.
- Within the room is also found an enchanted set of a silver jug and four goblets, an enchanted gold ring with an amethyst gem, several well made silk robes and two Scrolls of Protection From Energy.
- The party gather the items, including the large quantity of ancient books, and return to the library. The pile of books are brought into the library and the ghostly image of Ilda appears around them. For the first time, her voice softens and her expression becomes intense. She looks over at Ragnar and with warmth in her voice says, “Thank you Cleric Of The Light, I may now pass onwards.” Her figure fades and the room is now quiet.
- The party leave the Tomb, being careful to avoid any of the traps or dangers they encountered before, and once again breath in the cold night air of the Serpent Hills. After Ragnar warns the party about Trolls her saw taking the Cultists who were camped on the outside, the party decide to travel onwards for a hour to get away from the Tomb before camping. They find a suitable outcrop of rock to camp next to, with Trenchant summoning Leomund’s Tiny Hut. The night goes uneventfully, except for the sounds of snakes.
- Wealday, 10th Pharast in the year 815 (Second Era). Spring.
- The party arise in the morning, with Labarett performing the dawn ritual upon the Black Dragon Mask. Breaking camp they head off at a brisk pace, thanks to Labarett’s skills, and make good time. The day passes without incident, but the party notice the ever watchful presence of snakes around them.
- Evening comes and the party once again set up a suitable camp site. During the middle of the night, with Labarett and Varis on watch, they see the silhouette of two Yuan-ti againts the night sky watching them. After one of the figures leaves, Varis tries to take out the remaining one with arrows but the figure manages to transform into a snake and slither into a hole in the ground.
- Oathday, 11th Pharast in the year 815 (Second Era). Spring.
- With the coming dawn, after breaking camp and the completion of the dawn ritual the party eagerly head off towards Boareskyr. About mid morning the party finally arrive at the Boareskyr Bridge. The settlement is visible on the far side of the wide and deep river chasm, and so too is the Tower Of Anvil but before the party can reach the bridge they are cut off by the sudden appearance of a large group of Yuan-ti. The Nest Mother has returned and she will not allow the party to bring back the knowledge of one of the many Yuan-ti nests, and thus battles ensues.
- The party soon find themselves over whelmed by Yuan-ti forces with more and more arriving. Matters turn even worse when three of the Yuan-ti Abominations rip open pouches that shower them in fine green powder that transforms them into larger more dangerous forms. The Nest Mother tries to corrupt Varis’s mind with nightmare visions but he manages to ward them off.
- The party are desperately fighting for their lives, using all their means. Trenchant summons a storm cloud above the plains and begins directing lightning bolts down upon the Yuan-ti. Ragnar summons a sphere of Spirit Guardians around him, giving the party a defensive position. Labarett is raging, taking blow after blow. Arrows fly forth from Varis’s bow striking true. Sir Krondor and Gim charge into combat with their blades swinging into Yuan-ti flesh. Naillae sneaks darting to and forth lunging her daggers into the Yuan-ti.
- The party are being hammered. More and more Yuan-ti appear and are relentless in their assault on the party.
- Naillae looks around, at the injured and trapped party, “We’re doomed!”
- Then a loud, deep, crackling war horn booms out from the direction of the bridge. Sir Krondor smiles and shouts, “Not yet lassy! The strength of the Anvil is here now!”
- Racing across the stone bridge is a war pony in armour, pulling behind it a wagon and a strange metal contraption. Hanging off the sides of the wagon are two armoured Dwarves, and seated upon the strange metal contraption is another armoured Dwarf. All three are wearing the colours and tabards of the Order Of The Anvil.
- Ragnar looks over at the approaching group and shouts, “Knights of the Anvil! And they have a Dragon Fire Spitter! Praise Truesilver for this miracle!”
- The Knights Of The Anvil reach the end of the bridge and stop allowing the rear Knight, Sir Dawn, to jump off and remove the metal contraption, the Dragon Fire Spitter, and start to aim it towards the battle. The two remaining Knights, Sir Faran and Sir Horal, shout at the War Pony to race onwards.
- As the party continue fighting, they hear a loud boom come from the Dragon Fire Spitter and a large white cloud erupts outwards. A high pitched whistling sound comes from the sky above, and a few breaths later, a large fireball explodes in the middle of the battle engulfing a group of Yuan-ti in flames.
- The tide of battle is turned now with the arrival of the Knights Of The Anvil. The battle is still raging on, and Gim is dropped to the ground, badly wounded and dying. The others in the party race to his aid, with Ragnar healing his wounds from afar whilst Trenchant and Naillae defend his temporary retreat.
- Sir Faran and Sir Horal are engaging the Yuan-ti, hitting them hard and forcing them away from the party but thanks to their War Pony are able to out manoeuvre and stay one step ahead of the encroaching foes.
- Lightning bolts rain from above, and now fireballs explode repeatedly into the Yuan-ti thanks to the Anvil’s Dragon Fire Spitter. The Yuan-ti are losing now, their numbers falling one by one but still they fight, until with only one remaining it transforms into a snake and slithers away. The party cheer and all the Dwarves shout out, “For Fanur!”
<And as the party stand in disbelief at their survival, that is the end of the session.>
XP Allocation
Group - Combined (This is equally divided by the number of players who were involved)
Quests (Only quests that are completed or rendered undoable, during this session, are shown here)
- “Soul At Peace” Release Ilda The Ghost = 500 XP
- “Care For The Elderly” Escort Dalern & Elona To Boareskyr = 350 + 350 XP
- “Fetch Me A Ride” Remove Devils = 300 XP
- “Can Someone Scratch My Nose?” Convey Varram The White In Custody to Boareskyr = 500 XP
Creatures Overcome
- Wraiths = 5400 XP
- Specters = 1000 XP
- Yuan-ti Malisons (Type 1 & 3) = 2800 XP
- Yuan-ti Nightmare Speaker (Nest Mother) = 1100 XP
<Assisted by Forces Of The Anvil, XP Shared and reduced from amounts shown below>
- Yuan-ti Malisons (Type 1 & 3) = 5600 XP
- Yuan-ti Abominations = 14500 XP
Individual (This is only given to that person and is not divided amongst all players)
Special Bonus (Outstanding Role Playing)
Nil
XP Levels and Player Allocations
Player : Start + Received = Total (Notes)
Rob : 91122 + 3584 = 94706
Arthur : 72488 + 3584 = 76072
John : 65702 + 3584 = 69286
Travis : 82943 + 3584 = 86527 (Level up to Level 11)
Paul : 71819 + 3584 = 75403
Bob : 78247 + 3584 = 81831
NPC (Naillae) : + (1792)
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Wands of a Feather: An Elena of Avalor/Sofia the First Crossover
[Chapter 1] // [Chapter 2]
*One of the most surprising and fun aspects of writing this story has been creating all sorts of different OC's, sometimes right on the spot! Quarry, Isadora, Hiba and Raadi are all my characters (as far as I know, we never do meet the royal wizard of Khaldoun in StF), and I was especially excited to tap into the idea of deaf mages and non-verbal magic within this universe. I'm not part of the deaf community myself, so if anything looks off, do let me know!
AO3 link here!
Chapter 3: The Tri-Kingdom Showcase
The lone figure suddenly formed into two, one a few inches taller than the other. The first presenters stepped into the spotlight, another stage effect courtesy of Isadora. The shorter of the two was a kindly middle-aged woman, wearing a midnight-blue robe and draped with a shimmering silver cloak, her head covered by a knotted white headscarf. Next to her was a teenage boy with freckles dotted across his brown skin, clad in an elegant teal robe and a patterned russet turban. A leather satchel hung from his left arm.
Both bowed deeply before the crowd, then the elder wizard stepped forward to gauge her audience.
Her hazel-eyed gaze held some kind of gravity that pulled at Mateo’s attention. Nothing in it was scrutinizing, just attentive. Quietly aware of the people before her, and silently asking them to share in that awareness.
The woman gave a tender grin, and then began to gesticulate with her hands, smoothly forming various signs while never tearing away her gaze.
“Welcome, friends. I am Hiba, Royal Wizard to His Majesty King Nasir of Khaldoun,” interpreted the young boy, who’d stepped up to Hiba’s side.
“This here is my apprentice, Raadi,” she signed, at which Raadi gave a small nod.
“I am humbled to be performing this morning for all of you, though I must say, the journey from our country to the isle was… more eventful than perhaps our company hoped,” Hiba continued. It amazed Mateo how Raadi matched his voice to the subtle inflections of his master’s gestures and facial expressions, with only cursory glances away from her hands.
Then as if on cue, Raadi took a couple steps to the side, while Hiba extended her left arm and summoned a tall staff out of thin air. The top of the bronze staff was adorned with gilded feathers curling around a bright sapphire orb, and the body was carved with rows upon rows of delicate engravings. Mateo vaguely recognized some of them as runes, but most of the writing seemed to be calligraphy native to Khaldoun. Another wave of Hiba’s hand caused the engravings to glow a purple light, and as they did, Mateo noticed the various jeweled bracelets and swirling golden bands that decorated Hiba’s forearms.
A swirling array of lavender lights emerged like ribbons from the staff, coalescing with one another and steadily taking solid shape before their eyes. The lights took the likeness of a giant thirty-foot serpent, its eyes blank as snow and its maw lined with jagged teeth, with enormous tusks curving out of the sides. The illusion looked big enough to ram its head through a fortress, and it eerily stared down upon the audience while gliding through the air. Its jaws opened and closed just slightly as it prowled in a circle, and Mateo couldn’t help but gulp as it passed above his head. No one made a sound, even as the serpent stopped above Hiba’s head.
“Our ship happened to be passing through a pod of these serpents, and some feared the worst,” Hiba signed.
She then turned toward Raadi. “My dear apprentice confessed that he thought his life was forfeit right then and there.”
Raadi dutifully interpreted his master’s last comments, before he shot back at her with a piqued expression.
“Leave it to Madame Hiba to never skimp out on the details,” he spoke, turning so that he directly faced his master with his signs. Hiba chuckled, as did the audience. But then the spectral serpent curled upwards, and the laughter stopped as it towered above them at its full height. The room grew tense once more as it stood with its eyes unblinking, mouth agape, and then…
It started to sing.
Waves of a soft and ominous melody filled the air, like a shell horn’s strain ringing through a cave. The effect was similar to how Mateo had heard Naomi describe whale songs back at school. Its voice carried echoes of some dark and fathomless part of the ocean, its melody as unhurried as the tide. Mateo then remembered one other thing Naomi warned about serpent calls: many an untrained sailor had met their watery fate by mistaking their song for a whale’s.
Serpents travelled in large pods beneath the water’s surface, using their song to guide their brood during summer migrations to the north. If boats lingered too long in the migration path, they were met by the viciously territorial serpents. The lucky ones knew to make a swift and quiet escape with their ships, and she meant lucky. Even Naomi’s mother, a master of the seas, had vessels nearly capsized by their tusks and tails.
The sound carried beyond the theater area to the further corners of the pavillion, and Mateo briefly turned his head to see if anyone outside this crowd had noticed. There were a few curious faces (mainly children and their parents) who looked up at the illusion in awe, though others carried on unperturbed.
He turned back to the serpent, and saw that more light illusions had flown out of Hiba’s staff. They formed a few smaller serpents, brighter in color, which flocked close to the first serpent as it led them higher above the stage. Isadora’s spotlight followed them as they swam through the air in synchronized twisting and swirling patterns, joining one another in song.
As they circled closer around the theater area a couple of times, showing off well-timed maneuvers that earned bursts of applause from the spectators, Mateo caught Hiba in the corner of his eye. From her billowing sleeves she drew a small square of paper inscribed with thin ink lettering. She flicked it into the air, and the paper burst into a flash of fire.
And just as quickly, the whole pavillion dissolved from Mateo’s sights. Stalls, trees and solid ground had vanished, and all background noise was covered by a pregnant hush. Darkness surrounded them, until an array of tiny lights blinked and swirled into being. Before long, the crowd found themselves sitting in the middle of a galactic cluster, where the brightest star of all shined above: the North Star.
“The crew on our vessel managed to pull us out to safety, but I grew curious as to how often such encounters occurred.” Raadi stood by Hiba once more, holding her staff as she continued her speech. “I asked the captain for records of the sea serpents’ migration patterns, and he gave me an even more invaluable asset.”
Raadi drew three pieces of paper from his sleeve, folded into neat boomerang-like knots. He tossed them one by one into the air, and the papers morphed into their own streaks of light. As with Hiba’s illusions, the streaks gathered like strings rolling up into a ball, and expanded to become different sea creatures: blue caballos marinos, green tortoises, even a gigantic scarlet kraken. They each joined with the serpents as they looped around one last time, before gliding upwards to the North Star.
The crowd’s applause broke out louder, before being quelled by a sharp knock upon the stage. Hiba gave three gentler taps with the staff, and the light illusions she and Raadi conjured formed into a luminous, emerald-colored orb. The orb ballooned into a large globe, and white lines formed around its surface, mapping the various continents of the Ever-Realm.
“The captain showed me all the records of different migration patterns that he and past generations of Khaldounian sailors had collected through their many voyages.” Moving her hand in a curling motion, Hiba conjured an illusory sun, casting light upon her globe.
“The creatures of the sea follow where the cold and warm waters flow. They track the seasons as we still sometimes do with the stars.” Hiba stretched both of her arms out, and summoned her sea beasts once more, in smaller versions that ducked in and out of the surface of her globe. The globe then started to rotate on an axel around the sun, tracking the seasonal paths of the creatures with the sun and the North Star as their constant guide.
As he stared up at the map, Mateo vaguely recalled Abuela and Mamá’s stories about the North Star, how the star’s different positions in relation to the Ever-Realm horizon acted as a compass to early Avaloran sailors. The most fascinating stories recounted how the ancient Maruvians created calendars and predicted turns of fortune from the night sky.
He once tried to map the sky himself, and although he found the process a bit too precision-based (resulting in many scribbled-out and ink-stained parchment notebooks), he loved to just look at the maps from school and compare them to the star and moon charts in his Abuelo’s archives. While the calculations behind the charts felt weighty and tedious back when he was nine years old, something about his Abuelo’s notes on the constellations and the stories they told would keep him up for hours past his bedtime.
“My hope with this Astral Atlas is that all who sail upon the seas will instantly know where and when the most dangerous creatures of the sea might cross their paths, and to see how all life, no matter how monstrous its appearance, follows the same patterns as we do,” Hiba explained, giving a knowing smile.
With another sharp “TACK!” from her staff, her illusions - the globe, beasts, star field - vanished in an instant. Mateo blinked, gathering his senses back to the canvas-filtered sunlight and the general murmur of the exhibition hall. His confusion was shared with some of the younger sorcerers, but the elders looked more quietly impressed with Hiba’s showcase.
“And before you ask: no, you won’t need that whole light show to use the atlas. In fact, one shouldn’t have any trouble carrying one of these around. And yes, everyone will get one to take home,” Hiba finished, eliciting a number of excited whispers.
After he was done interpreting, Raadi reached into his satchel and pulled out a black board segmented into two. He folded out from the part, and from its surface popped out an animated atlas just like the one he and Hiba conjured, though on a smaller scale. The detail was no less impressive on the model, and the board itself was as thin as a school slate.
At a small nod from his master, Raadi closed the board and placed it back in his bag. He joined Hiba in bowing to the audience, who responded in kind with elated applause. Mateo even saw some of them give a standing ovation.
He looked back at Hiba and Raadi, who were signing between themselves, grinning ear to ear as they exchanged words that he wished he could follow. But their expressions carried all the clarity he needed: while Raadi appeared bashful, in contrast to the collected front he presented on stage, his master couldn’t be more proud.
+++
“Incredible...” Cedric muttered to himself.
He’d been watching the Khadounian wizards’ performance from a hidden seating area backstage, located off to the side from the main platform. The longer he thought back to Hiba’s star map, the more his stomach felt like a black hole, warping him from the inside. He wanted to pace around, but he stood stock-still, afraid of making a spectacle.
He’d have expected no less from a wizard of her caliber, but Hiba had created an invaluable aid to sailors and adventurers of all stripes. How could his trick match up? What was a gussied-up child’s toy compared to that?
He hoped that Quarry wouldn’t take notice of his nerves, as the eagle-owl busied himself with treats while resting on his own perch.
“Heh. And she had the mettle to tell me that she came up with all that last minute,” chuckled a sagacious voice from the bench next to his.
Wu-Chang was seated with his oak staff laid across his lap, stroking his long white beard as he looked over Cedric’s shoulder. Hiba and her apprentice were now making their exit towards the opposite end of the stage, while the young master of ceremonies stepped up to the center in a dazzling dash of pink.
As she began raving over Hiba’s act to hype up the audience for their next performer, Wu-Chang stood up and leisurely smoothed out his gold-and-veridian robes.
Cedric could recall a few times in his childhood when he’d seen the Royal Sorcerer of Wei-Ling perform, either for King Roland I or in shows with Cedric’s own father, Goodwin the Great. Goodwin was not a man known for his flattery, and one thing that used to (somewhat) quell Cedric’s anxiety over his father’s approval was that, however critical he was about his son’s magical education, Goodwin would apply the same eagle eye for error on his own rivals.
Wu-Chang was one of the rare few to escape any scathing appraisal, and Cedric could see why. The elder sorcerer was a master of the traditional arts, held a storied record of service, and performed for royals and subjects alike with the same gentle reverence that eased his crowds into some truly wondrous spectacles. For all his years of service however, Wu-Chang rarely spoke of retirement, which made Cedric wonder how he himself would fare the further he got along in his years.
“Hopefully I won’t lull our guests too well,” Wu-Chang joked, standing by the curtain leading up to the main stage.
Cedric tried to laugh, but the pathetic exhale that came out of his mouth sounded more like a wheeze.
“Is your throat alright?” asked Wu-Chang, clearly concerned.
“It is, it is,” Cedric assured him. Out of habit, he cleared his throat, immediately undercutting his claim.
“Do you need to sit down?”
“No, thank you, I’m fine.” Then Cedric plopped down on the bench, briefly spooking Quarry. In place of smacking himself on the forehead for making a fool out of himself, Cedric gave a blithe shrug.
“Oh, perhaps I didn’t get as much sleep as I thought.” His words weren’t doing much to save face, judging from Wu-Chang’s slightly raised brow. Cedric avoided his gaze, trying to seem distracted by giving Quarry another snack.
“They wouldn’t be out there if they didn’t want to see you,” said Wu-Chang.
“Pardon?” Cedric asked, looking back up.
Wu-Chang gave a small smile. “I’m just recalling what my old master told me. He said that all I could do was give them the show I prepared. Whatever I did, be it a success, failure, mediocrity, was still a learning experience, and after that I only had to focus on how to make my next act even better.”
Cedric bit back a groan. However well-intentioned, he was not in the mood for a pep talk.
“I should say so,” Cedric stated, effecting a proud tone and stance. “A Royal Sorcerer must strive for nothing less than excellence.”
“An admirable goal, in theory. It would depend on how one measures the concept of excellence,” Wu-Chang countered.
“I think that neither you nor I have little to worry about in that regard. Experience and expertise should speak for themselves,” Cedric touted. Quarry flew up to his shoulder and gave two happy hoots.
“I can see that. You’ve improved considerably since you were a child, Cedric.” Wu-Chang had replied with nothing but sincerity, but that didn’t stop Cedric’s shoulders from tensing nor his throat from tightening.
“Oh, you… you remember me from back then?” Cedric uttered.
“How could I forget? Your dear father and mother always had so much to share about you.”
“Ah, as I’d expect,” he sighed.
“And! Without further ado! We’ve got another spectacular guest lined up and ready to go! Let’s see who’s behind Curtain Number Twooooo!” boomed the emcee. Cedric had taken note during rehearsals, but that young woman’s voice could fill a canyon.
“I bid you luck,” said Wu-Chang.
“Yes, I-” Before Cedric could finish, the other sorcerer vanished with a snap of his fingers, leaving a puff of scarlet smoke. The red smoke quickly evaporated, though Cedric still had to fan some of it away from his eyes.
“-To you as well,” he finished drily. He didn’t have to see the ecstatic welcome Wu-Chang was getting from the crowd. Their cheers were proof aplenty.
“Greetings. My name is Wu-Chang, Royal Sorcerer to His Imperial Highness Emperor Quon of Wei-Ling.”
As the introductory speech went on, Cedric sat back in his bench, and Quarry settled onto his lap. He gently stroked a hand down Quarry’s crest, letting his familiar’s quiet hoots fill the space.
He couldn’t let his nerves get the better of him, not after all those days of planning and practice. He never felt more prepared for a performance, and he especially didn’t want his new familiar to look bad because of him. Unfortunately, one thing hadn’t changed: the waiting was always the worst part.
#wands of a feather#elena of avalor#sofia the first#eoa#stf#fanfic#disney fanfic#mateo de alva#cedric the sorcerer#cedric the sensational#rooks writes#my writing
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The Arach (M)
|Masterlist|Ko-Fi|
Happy Birthday Jungkook!
Summary:
In a time of magic and gods. Of mythical creatures and sacrifices, you were to meet your fate. You were to be offered to the arach.
Genre: Smut, Celtic AU, Mythical/Supernatural, Crackish
Pairing: Dragon!Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Situations, mentions of human sacrifice, claiming
Word Count: 6106
Vocab: tuath = tribe, ri = chief/king, fine = family, arach = dragon, filid = seer/soothsayers
For months the shadow of a great winged beast had passed over your tuath’s land, cows and sheep disappearing once every week since it’s appearance. Your father, the tuath’s ri, had sent your twin brother to fetch a druid once he caught wind of the first sighting.
You had been first in your tuath to see it, having been under the wing of the tuath’s bard for training. Just two more winters and your training would be complete.
You had been practicing the art of voice when the light of the midday sun was blocked, causing you to cast your gaze towards it. Your breath caught in your throat when golden scales shimmered in the day’s glow. Though hot on its tail were rolling dark clouds, thundering as they spread and trailed behind it. A storm. The beast had bought a storm with it. It wasn’t long before shouts filled the air, others finally noticing what was in the sky.
The sun was beginning it’s journey westward by the time your brother had returned with a druid in tow. The druid was bought into your father’s home to discuss the beast and its presence. As you were the first one to see the creature before the clouded sky obscured its silhouette, you had been allowed to join them. The priest was quick to tell you that the beast, the arach, was a good omen. One of fertile land and a good harvest as well bringing the power of mother earth with it since arachs were chosen by the gods to be the guardians of wisdom and the known world. And the fact it bought rain with it seemed to be further proof that the arach’s presence was a blessing.
The druid encouraged your father to make sure the arach stayed, and to make offerings; to turn a blind eye to any livestock that went missing and to send the beast sacrifices.
And so your father followed the advice given. He didn’t fuss over the odd sheep going missing, but when weapons and precious materials started disappearing, he started the practice of making sacrifices.
At first he sent the non-freeman, those who broke the tuath laws, only for them to return with heads bowed in shame and carrying a message:
“The arach wishes to be sent only young maidens who are of age but no younger than 18 winters.”
When word caught your ear of the demand, your stomach dropped. Yes, it was an honour to be sacrificed to a great being, but there was only few who fit the category of appropriate offerings. You were one of those few and since your father could not find you a willing suitor and your bard training soon to come to an end, it was highly likely you would be offered. Once you had finished your training, you would not be allowed to wed either. Your father and brother had been particularly desperate to find you a suitor before it was too late but all were driven away by your brash behaviour. A side effect of having no female figure in your life since your mother died in childbirth, just like the goddess Macha. A woman-turned-goddess who died while birthing twins, exhausted from being made to race against steeds by her husband.
You watched as once a month, a girl around your age would disappear into the forest, never to return. Then the day arrived. The day you were chosen for sacrifice. Your father had made a speech to the rest of the tuath about how it honoured him greatly to give up his only daughter to the arach. Your brother, on the other hand, pleaded for you to leave the tuath. To run to safety, even though it went against his own training as a soon to be druid himself. He could not bare to lose his only sister, his twin and other half. But you refused. Running away would bring a curse onto the tuath. You couldn’t let that happen. So with a heavy heart, your brother offered you the only protection he could offer: a prayer to Cernunnos before you entered the woodland to the east of your lands, to where the arach’s den laid.
“I don’t see why I need protection when crossing through the forest when the other sacrifices did not.” You complained while the elder women of your father’s fine fussed with your hair and clothing. You had to look presentable for your death.
They braided your hair, weaving freshly picked flora and beads into the intricacies they created. Designs that were memorized and passed down through generations. A torc adorned your neck, the gold resting heavily on your collar bones. As daughter of the ri, golden rings decorated your body. They proudly situated on your arms, wrists, fingers and ankles. You were dressed in purple floor length tunic, sleeves short as to showcase your golden bands. Intricate designs had been sown into the tunic in a lighter shade of purple while a simple gold chain girdle rested on your hips.
“It is Ostara, the day of the goddess Eostre, the animals and creatures are in rut. We need you to reach the arach untouched.”
You gulped, “Do… do you think I will remain untouched when I join mother in the Otherworld?”
Your brother placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, mindful of the hard work of the fine.
“Ask the filid when it is time for you to be offered. They will have the answer, I cannot see into the future.”
You stood in front of the forest, in the same place where the offerings before you had stood. The filid was beside you, a cloak around her shoulders, her hood down to show her painted face. The twisting patterns holding ancient meanings.
“Filid, may I ask, when I join my mother… will I be untouched?”
The filid gave you a gentle smile, “Do not worry about the Otherworld, arach silliin, you have the blood of Macha with you. It is time for you to meet your fate. Recite the prayer your brother gave you.”
With a shaky breath, you staightened your back, wishing your father would tell them to stop. You looked over to him only for him to give you a nod.
“G-God of the green, Lord of the forest, I offer you my s-s-sacrifice.” Your focus went back to the forest, “I ask you for your blessing. You are the man in the trees, the green man of the woods, who brings life to the dawning spring.” A light began to shine within the foliage, “You are the deer in rut, mighty Horned One, who roams the autumn woods, the hunter circling round the oak, the antlers of the wild stag, and the lifeblood that spills upon the ground each season.” Your voice grew in confidence as it approached, “God of the green, Lord of the forest, I offer you my sacrifice. I ask you for your blessing.”
From the light emerged an almighty stag.
The filid gave you a gentle push towards it, “Cernunnos has come to escort you. He gives you his blessing and accepts you as the tuath’s sacrifice.”
The stag lowered onto its front legs, as if bowing to you. You took tentative steps towards it and it gestured to its back, was it a silent command to hop on? Did the manifestation of the Lord of the forest really want you to ride it?
“Go on child of Macha, this is an honour only few get to have.” She took your hand and led you closer to the stag, helping to seat you on it’s back, “You are the daughter of the ri, silliin to the arach and child of the gods. This is your birthright.”
The filid untied a crown of flowers from her own girdle, placing it on your head with the utmost gentleness. And with that, the stag rose to it’s full height and turned away from your tuath. It took all your strength not to cry. You would be meeting your mother in the Otherworld soon enough.
The midday sun was at its peak, you were having difficulty staying awake. Until a soothing bartone filled your ears.
“We are there, daughter of Macha.”
“W-who said that?”
The stag turned it’s head to look at you as it continued forward, entering a clearing, “I did, child.”
That couldn’t be. There was no way Cernunnos was speaking to you through his avatar. The stag once again lower to allow you off its back. Though it did not leave. Instead, it lowered itself further to lay on the lush green grass in front of you.
“Why are you shocked? You are a daughter of Macha, descendant of a goddess from the Morrigan.”
You couldn’t have been more confused, “What d-do you mean?”
The stag tilted its head, apparently confused itself, “Do you not know of the blood that runs through your veins? The lineage you inherited from your mother?”
“She died in childbirth. I never met her.”
The stag nodded in… understanding?... “Only the filid must know of your bloodline then, since your mother came from a neighbouring tuath. Child, Macha was your mother’s mother’s mother.”
You were about to question the stag further when a great wind blew into the clearing, bellowing, as a shadow appeared over you. The arach had arrived. The arach had arrive and you had just found out your were a descendant of a goddess. You couldn’t die. Not now. You had so much more to learn.
You turned towards the beast as it descended into the clearing, golden scales shimmering, catching the light. Unbeknownst to you, the stag stood back up as the arach landed, the arach’s wings folded in as it bowed to the stag. And with that, the stag left back into the woods.
Lightning crackled around the beast, building up to a blinding degree before disappearing with a flash. There, before you, was the most handsome man you had ever seen. Long dark hair the colour of the skin from a ripe cherry framed his face, complimenting his aureate skin. Wide eyes, silver like the moon, took in your own features and his nose scented the air before his lips split into a toothy grin. Golden scales covered his shoulders and sides, leaving his undersides like his stomach uncovered… He was naked…
“My my, aren’t you the bejeweled one? You must be from a wealthy family. And from the purple gown… you’re royalty in your tuath. The ri’s daughter perhaps?”
Even his voice sounded gorgeous. Why did death have to greet you like this? Couldn’t it have stayed as a giant beast?
“A… Are you the arach?”
“No shit. You just saw me transform. And I have a name. It’s Jungkook.”
Jungkook…
As hard as you tried your eyes kept wandering downwards. Sure you had seen the warriors of your tuath bereft of clothing but none were as attractive as the creature that was approaching you in slow measured steps. Jungkook appeared to be sizing you up.
“Could you m-maybe cover up? The only man I should see like this is my future husband.”
Jungkook laughed, his eyes gleaming deviously, “You are here to be sacrificed, maiden, there is no future husband for you.”
A furious anger made itself known inside of you as he mentioned your lack of a future.
“I am not ‘maiden’. I am Y/N of Cauci. My father is the ri of the tuath, and my mother's lineage is of the great goddess Macha. You will not kill me and you will stay on my tuath’s land.”
“Kill you? I don’t plan on killing you, my little demi-god. If I wanted a dead sacrifice, I would’ve asked for a grand ceremony, a public spectacle.”
Silence filled the space between you as Jungkook’s eyes glimmered with mirth. You weren’t going to die… but if that was the case…
“What happened to those before me?”
He smiled, surprising you with how… human… his teeth looked. You were expecting rows upon rows of daggers, like a lynx.
“They’re safe. I delivered them to different tuaths. A person rejected by an arach is dishonoured, an omen. A person gifted by an arach is treated with respect.”
You took Jungkook’s word for it and breathed a sigh of relief. Arach’s didn’t lie after all. The other girls were safe… Did that mean the same for you? Would you be taken across the land only to be dropped at some other tuath’s land? No longer the Ri’s duaghter, your training as a bard abandoned? Would you be forced to marry?
It was strange how easily you accepted the prospect of all this earlier when you thought you were facing death. But now you knew that death wasn’t what the deities had planned for you… You’re chest began to constrict.
“So… so… You’re going to make me leave my home behind… for the sake of my honour?”
Jungkook scoffed, seemingly having closed the space between you while you were caught in thought. His hand coming up to cup your chin, eyes staring into your own, amusement swimming within them.
“Little demi-god, your honour is mine. I’m making you leave your home because it is the fates will. Why else would you be bought to me by Cernunnos during Ostara?”
You blinked up at him as the pieces began to fit together in your head. Ostara, the time beasts and animals alike went into rut… An arach asking for maidens of age… He was looking for a suitable partner to state his needs.
You took a step away from him, “Do you honestly believe I’d let you… lay with me?!”
Jungkook looked taken aback, clearly thinking you wouldn’t question fate’s will. You crossed your arms as he shook his head, that smirk of his returning.
“Maybe I was too… arrogant… I’ll be as clear as possible. We, you and I, are tied by fate. I am of age and have been searching for my life mate. My silliin.” He took a tentative step forward to once again close the distance. “I knew I had found where they were when flying above your tuath. I could smell them. But I couldn’t tell who it was. From the scent I knew they were a maiden of age.”
Your eyesbrows drew together. The filid and Cernunnos had referred to you as silliin. Had this been what they meant?
“And… You think I’m her?”
His tongue snuck out, wetting his lips, “I know it is you.” He leant forward, towards your neck, and sniffed, “Definitely you.”
Fate sure had a strange sense of humour. The daughter who couldn’t find a suitor was destined to be the life mate of an arach. AN ARACH… A gorgeous one at that…
“Why should I accept you?”
He straightened up to look down at you, concerned and uncertain, “Because you want me? The spice of your arousal is colouring your scent so deliciously.”
You huffed, “At least others tried to court me-”
“Arach’s don’t court. In fact, this is the closest to courtship you’ll get from my kind. My mother literally spotted my father and swooped down, carting him off to her home.”
Your jaw dropped and he chuckled, arms sneakily wrapping around you.
“Will you accept me, my little demi-god? I can provide you with shelter, food, protection… freedom to see the world if that is your desire. And in return all you need do is be the mother of my children.”
Fear crept into your veins, travelling to your heart and constricting your throat. None of the women on your mother’s side had survived childbirth from what you knew. It was always twins and certain death.
“I-I- I’ll die-die if I-”
He cut you off by pressing you to him, “Can you feel it? My heart beat? Once we consummate our joining, we’ll share it. Your heart will beat with mine for as long as I live. Don’t be afraid, Y/N of Cauci.”
And you could feel it. Strong against your own chest, already beating in time with your own erratic one. He was just as afraid as you. Though he was afraid of rejection, you were afraid of dying.
You barely noticed how close his face had drawn to yours, too caught up in his silver eyes that grew darker the longer you stayed pressed up to him. Well, you barely noticed until he spoke again, his lips brushing against yours, sending tingling sparks across them.
“Will you accept me? I need your answer.”
What was the point in rejecting him? You no longer had a fine you could return to. At least he offered you a choice on how you would proceed in life.
"I lost everything as soon as I was chosen to be a sacrifice, I have nothing more I can lose.”
You heard what sounded like a faint whine, like the arach was distressed by your words.
"Accept me and you don't have to lose everything. I'll remain by your tuath. You can still go see them. My mark on you will let them know you are not dishonoured."
You didn’t have to lose everything. Your brother’s face flashed before your mind’s eye. With that thought in mind, you gave him your answer.
“I… I accept-”
His lips were on yours in an instant, lightning suddenly coursing through you in place of the fear that once gripped you. Was this what all kisses felt like? Cause you could’ve gotten addicted to them. The building heat radiating from him was seeping through your tunic, contrasting the chill of the spring air against your back.
You were the one to break the kiss, panting for breath as more sparks spread through you where his hands ran up your back and down your sides, making quick work of your girdle. The metal snapping under his strength.
“Say it again, I won’t interrupt you this time.”
His eyes had turned pitch black save for a few flecks of silver that survived, making it seem like the night sky was trapped in his gaze, much like you were.
“I accept you… Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s eyes slid shut as he visibly shivered, taking a deep breath before opening them again.
“You won’t regret this, I promise.”
He then proceeded to rip your tunic down the front. Didn’t he know how expensive purple dye was?! And exposing you to him with no hesitation either? The nerve. One arm flew up to cover your breasts while the other shot downwards to cover your most intimate area. But he paid you no mind, taking the remains of your tunic and laying it out on the grass beside you. It’s not like he wasn’t affected by your nakedness if the hardness between his legs was anything to go by. You’d admit to being confused by his actions.
At least you were until he patted the material he had lain on the ground, “Care to join me down here, Vahdin?”
You took a moment to truly look at him. How the breeze gave his long tresses life. How his scales caught the sun and glittered like jewels. A creature that was indeed blessed by the gods themselves yet nothing like how legend described. No tale ever told to you, that you learnt from the current bard, mentioned an arach taking human form. Heat built in your chest and spread up your neck, to your cheeks and settled on your ears. From his beauty or his simple act of attentiveness, you didn’t know.
Taking tentative steps towards him, you stopped once your feet were on the rich fabric. Slowly, you lowered onto the remnants of your clothing, still covering yourself with your arms.
“Do… Do you want me to remove my jewelry?”
He shook his head, “They’re a sign of your status. That would be like asking me to cut my hair.”
You gave him a quizzical look.
“I’ll explain it later. We’ll have all the time in the world to learn about each other.” He reached up and removed the flower crown from atop your head. You were surprised it had stayed on at all. “Let’s focus on the now. The offering of each others bodies.”
“Ha-have you done this before?”
He chuckled, “Of course not. My body is for you, my silliin, and you alone.”
You were taken aback by his gentleness as he gripped your wrist and moved the arm covering your breasts away. His eyes widened, reminding you of the forest animals when they caught sight of a human. But that wasn’t the case with him. His eyes didn’t hold fear. They held reverence. Taking in the details of you at his leisure. He muttered things to himself in a language you did not know. Did arach have their own tongue? One word you did understand - Lugh.
His hands travelled to your breasts, cupping them delicately, “Soft. So soft. I’ve been blessed with such a fine mate.”
“Fine? Am I simply fine?”
His eyes snapped towards yours, a playful smile on his lips, “You’re more than fine. I would say you’re perfect but I’d like to see and feel all of you before I decide.”
Your free hand went to his chest, marvelling at it’s firmness and the difference in texture from skin and scale. Both gave way under the pressure of your hand. But where his skin was soft yet firm, his scales were rough yet smooth.
“Do you even know how to… to…?” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish your sentence but he seemed to catch on to your question.
His cheeks were dusted rose, a first for the confident arach, “I’ve stumbled across humans… mating on my travels searching for you. And my father explained the male side of things, my mother explained the arach side.”
You remembered coming across amorous couples A-maying during Beltane when you had gone herb picking in the forest for your brother. The memory made your own cheeks colour.
“O-oh. Is it different for arach?”
Jungkook coaxed you to lay back, his hands having moved to your shoulders, “We… uh… we mate for life. We show that bond through a claiming mark-”
“Like a marriage knot?”
“...I have no idea what that is.”
You blinked up at him, “You… don’t know… what a marriage knot is?” He avoided eye contact, choosing to once again focus on your breasts, massaging them under his palms. “It’s uh… um… stop distracting me… it’s what’s-ah! What’s tied around the hands of those who want to be paired for life.”
He stopped tweaking your nipples to look at you in confusion, “They spend the rest of their lives literally tied together?”
You couldn’t help it. You laughed. It just slipped out. And once it did you couldn’t stop it.
“Don’t be ridiculous. They’re only tied together in the ceremony. After the hand-fastening has been done they exchange and wear rings that act as proof of their union.”
“So humans have two types of marking? One temporary and one permanent?” You nodded as he traced a pattern onto your stomach, “Arach only have one way of marking. It is forever and is etched into skin with our lu. It’s part of the mating process.”
“Oh…” You were feeling somewhere between shocked and awkward, “Will… will it hurt?”
His hands traveled even lower to rest on your hips, his head coming down to settle on your breasts, looking up at you, “No. It won’t feel good or bad. My dad said his mark felt like someone was blowing a design onto his stomach. Which makes sense since my mother is an arach of the wind.”
“What kind of arach are you?”
“I am an arach of lightning, blessed by Lugh himself.”
“So how will your mark feel?”
Jungkook smirked at that question, mischief in his eyes, “Probably like this.”
With that he turned his head and captured one of your nipples between his lips, tongue sweeping across, sending tingles through you. You gasped and instinctively arched into him, fingers twining into his cherry locks, to pull him closer or push him away, you did not know. Your grip tightened when his teeth grazed along the stiffening bud, a small noise of… approval rumbling in his throat. To your embarrassment you felt your own body reacting to it, heat pooling in your stomach and becoming a sticky wetness between your thighs. You had felt this before so it was not unfamiliar but before this moment you only knew the sensation from heated dreams and the sweaty mess you’d wake up as.
He released the pebbled bud with a lewd pop, gaze travelling southward as his nose twitched, “Fuck. You’re like this already?” He groaned, “So wet for me, from my touch. Zu'u nox rah tol vorohah hi fah zey.”
You didn’t have the chance to ask him what he had just said as his hand that had been resting on your hip trailed a path of sparks to your core. His fingers pressed against your slit then swiped upwards, flicking the little pleasure nub you had down there. (You knew it was something that made you feel good, but you did not know if it had a name.) Jungkook lent back, making sure you had a good view of him as his bought his essence covered fingers to his mouth, tongue slipping out to sample you before lightly groaning and sucking on his fingers. Something warm dripped onto your thighs, distracting you from his little display. Your eyes flicked down to the spot, coming upon a small translucent puddle of white there. Another drip. You retraced it fall to… the arach’s hard red cock. Curiosity led your actions as one of your own hands left his shoulders to swipe your index finger through the little puddle. You found yourself rubbing the substance between your finger and thumb, feeling the consistency before copying Jungkook’s actions.
Your nose scrunched up at the salty taste and slimy texture, making a mental note never to let that stuff come near your mouth again. Jungkook tilted his head to the side in confusion.
“Why did you do that?”
“I-I was copying you. Why did you?”
He chuckled and leant down to nuzzle his cheek against your own, “I did it to double check you were fertile. Your scent gives a small indication but the only true way for me to know is to get a taste of you.”
“I-I-Is it important that I am?”
He sat up and shook his head, “Not for the bonding. But it is Ostara, remember.”
You paled. Having just found out you were a descendant of Macha, who ruled over fertility amongst other things, it was more than likely you would end up with child after the bonding. You prayed to the gods that the arach was right in saying you wouldn't die in childbirth.
Jungkook offered you a gentle smile, a hand coming up to caress your cheek as if to brush away your worries, “Breathe, Vahdin, everything will be alright.”
His other hand grabbed your ankle to reposition one of your legs over his shoulder before positioning his member at your core. His tongue once again swiped across his lips as he leant down to capture your own in a heated kiss. Those addicting sparks coursing through you intensified as he pushed himself into your heat, stretching you out on him, taking your maidenhood. It created a dull ache, almost like a slow growing burn but his lips moving against yours, tongue asking for entrance, distracted you until he was fully sheathed.
You broke the kiss with a shaky gasp, your body adjusting to the foreign object buried deep inside you, sparks tingling from your connection. Panting drew your attention to the male above you. His arms were shaking, brows furrowed in concentration. He seemed more affected than you.
“Shit… so hot… so tight.” He groaned, “I want to fuck you so bad… Please tell me I can.”
“J-j-just give me… a moment. You’re bigger than my fingers.”
Jungkook’s eyes went comically large, “You’ve touched yourself? Fuuuuck~”
His hips rolled forward, grinding against yours, the friction it created making you both moan in pleasure. The motion had caused him to brush against somewhere in your core that felt so good you involuntary clenched around him.
“Fuck! Lugh... give me strength... “ Jungkook took a deep breath and let out a strangled groan as you wrapped your free leg around his waist, pushing him further into you, “Why did you have to be the descendant of a goddess who rules over sex magik?”
If you weren’t so focused on how he felt and how his pelvis rubbed against that special nub, you would’ve asked him what the fuck he meant. But, lucky for him, you were thoroughly distracted. Everywhere your skin touched his had sparks flying through you. Something aside from pleasure began to build inside of you. A type of pressure. One beside the release you had known from your alone time.
What the? What was happening?
You noticed that the leg strewn over Jungkook’s shoulder was glowing red like a fire. Though you did not have a moment to dwell on this as the arach shifted, pressing ever closer to you, sweat dripping as you felt the slight scratch of his scales.
The pressure releases, causing you to scream in ecstasy, drowning out the utterances of the arach as a hand pressed into your stomach, what felt like lightning spreading out from his touch to encompass you.
Everything turned black.
You awoke in a place entirely unfamiliar, on plush animal pelts, torches keeping the cold and dark at bay. Aching, you sat up, pausing to note how much… lighter you felt. Strange. Looking around you realised you were in a cave but it was littered with things such as gold, jewelry, cured meats, weaponry and clothing items. The bard had told you stories of places like these, passed to him by those who did not follow the same gods as your people. Those who stole from arach and lived to tell the tale. This was a den.
Memories from before you fell unconscious resurfaced in your mind. You had sex with an arach. The Arach! You looked down to find intricate blue markings adorning your stomach in a design that was actually familiar to you. It was a ceremonial marriage knot. A sign of your union.
It really did happen.
You had agreed to spend your life with Jungkook.
But that wasn’t the only thing adorning your skin. You had scales! Golden scales! What in the fuck? They were on the outer parts of your arms and thighs, your calves covered but your stomach and inner thighs bare.
“You’re awake then now, dii mal hef ekrah.” Jungkook drawled with a smug smirk, appearing from behind a huge pile of clothing, somehow still naked.
You hastily covered yourself with one of the pelts, “What happened to me?”
The arach plopped down beside you, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“It appears you became connected with your divine heritage. You even have Macha’s fiery hair now. Happened after you became all glow-y and passed the fuck out while cumming on my dick.”
Your cheeks heated at his crude wording. You didn’t dwell on it for long though, grasping a handful of your hair to find that it really had changed. This made no sense. What was going on? Where you put under some kind of trickery magic? Was this real?
“You’ve got to be fucking with me…” You whispered in utter disbelief.
Jungkook laughed, “As much as I’d love to, I remember a certain maiden making a big fuss about courting.” He held out a bundle of fabric you hadn’t noticed before. “Put this on and I’ll take you back to your tauth.”
You were confused.
“Why?”
“So I can court you, hefhah.” He rolled his eyes at you, “Macha would skin me alive if I did wrong by you.... But not only that. It’s what you wanted and as my equal, dii vorey hef, what you deserve.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, unbidden. You were going home. You were going to see your fair and brother. The arach was keeping to what he said, you didn’t have to lose anything. Grateful, you took the blood red fabric from him, struggling to dress yourself while still covering your nakedness.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, silliin, no need to hide that body of yours from me, let me admire my handy work.”
You blinked owlishly at him, “Your handy work? I thought this was from being a daughter of Macha; apart from the mark on my stomach.”
He shook his head and chuckled, “The hair and glowing was Macha’s lu. The scales are from my lu too. It’s a side effect of it at least.”
Oh. That made sense. Sort of.
“We’re courting, you can’t see me naked until I say so.”
True to his word, Jungkook returned you to your village, taking his human form again once your feet were safely on the ground. Your tuath was confused at first, not recognising you, but an explanation from the filid about your change in appearance soon had them understanding. She was the first to welcome you back with an embrace, followed swiftly by your brother and finally your father himself.
You and Jungkook lived separately after that, he in his den and you in your roundhouse. He would come to visit you at least once a week, bringing the life giving rain with him along with gifts to win your affections. Gifts ranging from instruments and jewelry to weaponry and thick clothes made of toughened animal hide. Clothes that were put to good use when you insisted on sparing with him, all members of tuath could defend themselves in armed combat, you weren’t about to let your skills get rusty because your monthly cycle had stopped. You were the descendant of a war goddess afterall.
After 7 moon cycles, when your stomach had grown large and round, Jungkook had found a place for himself in your heart. The arach was loyal, protective and kept to his word. He did his upmost to make you happy. Though it was his smile that made you fall for him, how it made him look like a hare. And so you finally agreed to live with him in his den, officially bringing the courtship to an end. Well it would’ve done if he hadn’t insisted on a human marriage ceremony.
You went into labour during the 9th moon cycle since your bonding to Jungkook. Terror swimming through your veins as painful contractions started getting ever more frequent. You were led on a bed of fresh pelts, Jungkook wiping sweat drench strands away from your face.
“You can do this, lokaal, just breathe. You’re going to be alright.”
You whined in distress, “But what if… w-what I l-leave them like h-h-how my mu-ah! Mum left me~!”
That was you biggest concern, at first it had been the thought of death, but that had been replaced with the fear of abandoning your children.
You gripped his hand as you wailed in agony. You couldn’t die. You couldn’t leave them. You prayed to the gods that you would make it through this. You prayed Jungkook’s words were truth and not mere assumption.
Dread caused your stomach to sink when a lone raven flew into the den. The marker of those soon to die. Oh god no. Please no.
“Don’t fear my child, I am here to help.” The raven spoke, like Cernunnos many moons ago except feminine in tone.
Before your stinging eyes the raven transformed into a red-haired woman donning a cloak of black feathers. It was Macha. The goddess Macha, herself, had come to aid you in birthing. Your prayers were answered.
“Took you... long enough... to stop your... lineage from dying...” You got out between pants.
The goddess sent you a sombre look, “Most died before I could reach them.”
Well now you felt bad.
It wasn’t long after her arrival that two beautiful arach babies were held by mother and father, the small tuffs of hair a mix of their mother’s fiery red and father’s ripe cherry. Their scales were not golden like their parents, one was ocean blue while the other was lavender purple. Both were girls and for the first time in generations, daughters got to know a mother’s love.
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Torn
Fandom: Jojolion
Summary: Yasuho’s life is tearing at the seams. The volatile Rokakaka trade is catching up to them and when Josuke unravels, Yasuho is pushed to her limit. She’s left more vulnerable than ever as she struggles to protect two men who barely know her.
This a story in which the protected must become the protector.
Chapter 4
"Fuck!"
Josuke fell with a grunt, tasting all the gravel that hadn't lodged itself into the skin of his face, arms, and knees when he fell gracelessly into the bushes.
Following Yasuho had been a snap decision.
His lungs burned, his feet hurt, and his heart was freaking out.
In all honesty, he hadn't planned on leaving the Higashikata estate. But his gut made him go after her, slippers and all. Yasuho's face was seared into his mind.
The hurt in her eyes..
Why wouldn't she tell him what was going on?
He'd fix it no matter what it was.
Why couldn't she just trust him..
Josuke huffed, trying to regain all the oxygen he'd let slip away during his pursuit. He had sprinted with a reckless abandon, causing a ruckus as he almost ran into a bewildered drunkard. The man had wanted a fight, but Josuke hadn't the time.There were more important pursuits he was after.
Yasuho was keeping something from him.
Ignoring the pain, he hoisted himself back onto his feet, looking around to gauge his new surroundings. He stepped out of the bushes of what looked like a small a park and onto the sidewalk. This prefecture was more populated than the suburban area of the estate. The Multi-story buildings told him that he had reached the downtown area at the heart of Morioh. Neon lights blared offensively, bringing attention to a wide variety of shops. More than a few shady characters weaved in and out of questionable establishments with storefront windows displaying whips and an array of strange contraptions.
Oh, no. The bus!
Josuke nearly gave himself whiplash as he searched for where the bus had turned to. Letting his focus slip for a fraction of a second could cost him everything. Sure enough, he saw the rearview lights of the massive vehicle three blocks down from his current position and turning onto what he recognized as the entry ramp of the highway.
"Shit, shit, shit!"
He was prepared to hunt it down regardless. Savoring the last bit of unlabored fresh air he'd have for a while, he spared himself a cat stretch.
Then booked it.
He went on blind dash down the street, not bothering to look for stop lights, straight into the oncoming traffic.
"You stupid fucker!"
The driver of a red corvette expressed his displeasure as he honked his horn, swerving in order to avoid hitting the young man. The car after that stopped abruptly, earning itself a hearty ram from behind, curtesy of the next car.
But none of that mattered.
He was about to lose track of the one person who mattered in his life, aside from his "mother," Holly Kira. The streets were becoming increasingly more crowded than he thought they should be on a Friday night. Much to his irritation, he was forced to weave in and out of crowds of rough-looking night prowlers. The horde of hoodlums became thicker with each step and Josuke found himself having to push his way through, grabbing shoulders and faces alike, just in order to clear a path.
Not good.
At this rate, he'd never catch up to Yasuho. Josuke scowled. A burning Irritation was quickly replacing whatever hope he had to find her.
"Hey, watch it!"
A rough hand snatched the fabric of Josuke's collar, nearly choking him in the process, and he was forced to look into the green eyes of a very aggressive, haggard looking fellow. The large man appeared to be in his forties, with sharp features and an overwhelmingly prominent nose. His flushed face, was as round as the moon, and sparsely covered in what Josuke dared to call a beard. Two, equally unattractive women clung to either one of his arms, scantily covered in leather vests and ripped spandex. Their bodies were practically spilling out of their clothes.
"Listen punk, that was my gal you pushed just now. I don't take kindly to disrespect." The threat, hardly concealed within the man's thick accent. His weathered face contorted into an expression so fowl, the muscles in his forehead formed what appeared to be horns.
Josuke regarded the man with bewilderment. "What's that on your face?"
"The hell you talkin' bout?"
Josuke could feel his nose hairs disintegrate from the hot breath that escaped through the holes in the man's decaying teeth. Faintly, he pointed at the metal piece poking out from either side of the man's nose. Without giving him a chance to reply, Josuke pinched the tips of the silver stud where it rested in the bridge of his nose, and yanked it straight out.
There was a loud crunch followed by a scream as horrid as grinding metal.
The two accompanying females looked on in horror as blood gushed from their lover's face like a faucet.
"Kevin-kun!" The blonde woman shrieked as the brunette fawned over the Gaijin who was holding his face while crying in a fetal position.
"There, there, babe.." She dabbed his face with a napkin she pulled from her cleavage. The injured man paid her no mind, opting to look up at Josuke who was trying to rub the blood off his formerly white shirt.
"Aaaw, man. I just washed this too.."
"You bastard..." he growled in between snorting the blood that continued to leak out of his face.
Curious onlookers had formed a circle by this time, though none moved to intervene. A petty fight was not the outcome Josuke was hoping for when he decided to leave his house. He heard the siren of what he recognized as the police in the distance then decided it would be best to take his exit and avoid a more dramatic scenario.
Josuke scanned the area for a reasonable pathway, taking note of a wisp of pink hair flowing through one of the gaps in the crowd of people.
There was no need for him to push his way through this time, as anyone standing in his path was swift to remove themselves, throwing him wary glances as he wiped a few specs of blood from his porcelain skin.
"Yasu-" He began to yell for all his excitement, then thought against it.
Maybe he shouldn't disturb her.
When he was free from the multitude of people, he glanced at the massive entrance to the building that everyone had been crowded in front of. On the wall was a large poster signifying the concert of a punk rock band. It depicted the severed head of a goat along with snakes, skulls, and roaches crawling along an apple.
It was rather grotesque for his liking.
Shaking his head, Josuke continued to stalk Yasuho quietly from the shadows.
Yasuho climbed the stairway to her apartment with much trepidation.
Her mother had never brought a man home before.
..this was uncharted territory.
She tried to imagine what type of guy her mom would go for.
Rich, was a given.
Growing up, her mother never worked a steady job. Though, somehow the lights never went off and there was always money for food. It wasn't unusual for her to sport designer clothes and mink furs, so whoever she was involved with had to have been loaded..
He was probably an old dude too.
Yasuho imagined a short, little wrinkly dude, fawning over her mom as they shopped for the latest Gucci gear. She was aware of the whole sugar daddy concept, and most of those relations involved buttering up a lonely guy with deep pockets and nothing to loose.
Yasuho hoped her mother wouldn't resort to such.
Upon reaching the final step to her floor, she saw that the walkway was clear, and began to move toward her own abode. There were several wooden doors along the inner wall of the concrete building. Each had their own assigned number mounted in silver.
Unit 708 was the apartment she shared with her mother.
On second thought..
Yasuho took a moment to compose herself.
She stepped to the outer end of the breezeway, readjusting the heavy grocery bag in order to relieve the blood flow in her finger tips, before opting to set it down.
The cool air was exactly what she needed to soothe her nerves.
Leaning against the railing, she gazed upon the Morioh city skyline.
A thousand golden lights danced along the horizon, beautiful enough to rival the stars above. It was a clear night aside from a few sparse clouds that glowed pearlescently in the moonlight. The atmosphere was not quite as peaceful as one would expect to relax in. She could hear the bustling traffic and uninhibited yells of bar patrons beneath her home; an unavoidable cost to living in the affordable, yet sketchy part of the town.
Yet having spent so much time in that environment, Yasuho allowed the roars of the city to lull itself into a hum of ambience within her ears. It was like an auditory haven where she didn't need to process the day to day strife she was force to live.
It was a far cry from Josuke's peaceful abode in the Higashikata estate. He'd been adopted into a family of multimillionaires, and Yasuho was sure he still didn't know just how lucky he was. She, herself, was all too aware that he resided in a part of town she could only dream of being able to afford.
Speaking of which, the guilt of her departure was starting to sink in.
Technically, Yasuho had ditched him when he only wanted to ensure her safety. Josuke was such a gentleman and sweeter than any guy she knew. Yet, when he tried to comfort her, she pushed him away...and she felt so bad for it.
Was she thankful for the swift escape?
Of course, there was no denying it.
Buying the alcohol and spaghetti was not a problem.
Nothing unusual about that. Everybody had to eat. And she was grown enough to have a drink if she wanted it.
...but the condoms..
Yasuho peaked once again in to the plastic bag she held, setting her cheeks ablaze in an instant as she recalled her shopping experience.
She had tried to be as discreet as possible.
Morioh was a sizable town, but word spread around fast and she preferred not being the center of the latest gossip. Thankfully, no one was in the intimate care isle of the corner store so swooping in and snatching the XL pack went without incident. It wasn't until she presented her items to the cashier that the man took the liberty of reading the package label out loud.
With that stupid pervy look on his face..
"Extra large! My, you must be a lively young lady!"
She could've died on the spot.
All the more reason to be thankful that she had left Josuke behind. She couldn't fathom, having to explain to him why she was buying a pack of Trojans.
But still...she wished her mother just hadn't bothered her with the task at all.
With one last sigh she braced herself to face her mother and her mysterious love interest.
"Here we go." She walked up to her door and grabbed the handle.
Suddenly her phone chimed and her navigational stand, Paisley Park spoke up.
"Choose one option." Her stand's mechanical voice piped up
1. Text Josuke or 2. Text Josuke
"You're right." Yasuho happily agreed and typed up her 'apology' text.
Yasuho: I made it home safe.
That didn't seem to be enough.
Yasuho: Miss you already <3
She'd make it up to him later.
Gathering her resolve, she grabbed her bag off the ground, turning toward her apartment. Yasuho had barley touched the handle when the door flung open and she was rewarded with a mouth full of hair.
"Hi Honey!"
Yasuho's mother squeezed her like she was shaking down a bottle of ketchup. The curls of her honey auburn hair glowed like a wild fire in the fluorescent lighting of the foyer.
An array of kisses, assaulted Yasuho's cheeks.
As much as Yasuho'd hate to admit it, the overwhelming display of affection softened her heart. This was the mom she always yearned for. A mom who was sober enough to greet her with a smile; who didn't allow her own thirst for love to dry up any affection she had to give to her own child.
"Hi mom." she replied faintly.
Yasuho felt her body giving in..
..slipping, into her mother's embrace.
And it terrified her.
After they separated, Yasuho was able to get a good look at her mother, Suzuyo Hirose. The cigarette smell she remembered her by, was absent. Her eyes were bright, just like her hair which she had lightened from it's natural dark color. And her slim but curvy figure was clothed in a modest, white, polyester v-neck and a knee-length fuchsia pencil skirt.
It was very..professional..
Was this the same Suzuyo Hirose who gave birth to her?
"Oh! I have a surprise for you! Well, he's waiting in the kitchen.." Suzuyo smiled ecstatically and grabbed her daughter's free hand.
So I was right...there is a guy..
Kicking off her shoes, Yasuho barely registered the chime of a text alert before the door shut behind her and she was pulled deeper into this alternate dimension she called a home. The place was almost unrecognizable. What she had come to know as a landfill was now devoid off all the wear and tear that came with being occupied by a dysfunctional family.
It was clean.
Shiny even.
There were no empty food containers laying around.
The wine stains in the living room carpet had been eradicated.
No broken glass to cut her foot upon.
Yasuho could even see her own confused reflection within the dark wood floors.
Where am I, really?
Part of her was suspicious of a stand attack. This had to be some kind of mind freak, or practical joke. She wouldn't have been surprised if Tsurugi was playing one of his 'Let's trip up Yasuho' games again like he did when he took away her ability to differentiate faces and signs.
An even greater part of her feared that this was legit.
Yasuho's stupor was lifted when she bumped into her mother who had stopped short of the entrance to the kitchen.
"Mom, what's wrong?"
Her mother was trembling.
Suzuyo swiftly turned to face her. The faint crinkles above her rosy cheeks framed her glossy chestnut eyes. She squeezed Yasuho's hand, coming close to whisper in her ear.
"I feel like we're about to start a new chapter. I know I haven't been the perfect mother, but, just know that I love you and I want things to be better between us."
Yasuho nodded mechanically.
It felt like the right thing to do. Whomever this love interest was, had to be really important to her mother. Slowly, Yasuho brought her hands around the older woman and hugged her, resting her head on the crook of her neck. If she had truly found her happiness, then Yasuho would do her best to support her.
For now, she'd reserve her judgment.
Yasuho moved break the embrace, but found herself tangled within not one, but two sets of arms.
"You're just as lovely as your mother." The unfamiliar voice was deep and oddly rhythmic like the bass of a drum.
A tall figure overshadowed her mom from behind.
Yasuho's body tensed.
Omg, he's touching me!
"Kaito, I thought I told you to wait in the kitchen!" Suzuyo giggled, releasing Yasuho to grab ahold of her lover's arms from where they were wrapped around them.
"Sorry dear, sensed all the good vibes coming from the hallway and I couldn't help myself." The man, Kaito, was grinning wide as a Jack-o-lantern. He was a clean cut man, with a perfectly symmetrical face. His hulking frame was moderately built and draped in a perfectly tailored, emerald dress shirt that his ripped jeans rebelled against. Dark hair and brows accentuated his tanned skin, creating a stunning contrast to the platinum eyes in which the light seemed to dance.
Suzuyo playfully booty-bumped him, causing the man to hunch forward reflexively as he stumbled back a step.
He grabbed his crotch and faintly mouthed the word "Ouch."
Yasuho stood in silence, watching the playful interaction unfold.
"Sorry dear, let me introduce you properly."
Suzuyo Hirose bit her lip, eyes alight with a spark she hadn't seen since their family was in one piece.
The love doves shared a knowing expression then faced Yasuho together with the widest smiles on their face. They both presented their left hands to Yasuho, but it was her mother who continued to speak.
"I'd like you to meet your new father."
To be continued...
#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jojo#Yasuho hirose#yasuho#josuke higashikata#part 8#jojo 8#jojolion#kira yoshikage#josefumi kujo
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ToshInko Wedding Bells
Hello! I’m going through my GDrive and uploading all the pieces that I wrote for apps and then never posted.
Here’s my first ever ToshInko piece. Just some reflective fluff about their wedding day and Toshinori learning to let go and enjoy the happiness that he’s spent decades providing and protecting for others.
Read it here or below the cut:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/19782586
Toshinori steps out into the coolness of a setting summer sun and braces a wide hand against the safety rail while another rises to shield his eyes. Today’s the day.
Somehow, despite all his mistakes and failings, despite this ruined body and anxious mind, he’s found love. Found the home and safety that he fought for decades to protect for others, never really believing he would ever earn the same.
He’s not prepared.
For the fifth time since waking, his head starts to get away from him, all the what-ifs of his life crowding around his mind like a pressing crowd. But like every time before, he sees a flash of darkest emerald and the fear fades into a sort of pleasant hum, like the rush of adrenaline before a big fight or a late night interview. Like he used to feel, before, when life was full of promise and adventure.
He lowers his hands and ambles down the stairs, picking at the cuffs of his morning suit with a watery smile that spreads as he gently worries the cufflinks between his knobby fingers. Two understated cherry blossoms, formed of blushy agate and given to him by his man of honor. Young Midoriya. He chokes up a bit.
His son.
The first of many wedding gifts, but already precious beyond measure.
“I uh- I mean. Here, All Might! I mean...Toshin...I mean….oh gosh...Dad?” He’s said it before, but it’s not an accident this time, and the reality of that turns the blushing boy into an absolute watering pot.
He had shoved the gently wrapped heirlooms into Toshinori’s waiting hands as if worried he’d accidentally break them, or more likely, throw them into the air in his manic joy.
“These are for you! To wear, today, if you want!”
Two cherry blossoms, to represent new beginnings and beauty, made of agate to represent wisdom, composure, and maturity. Izuku explains the meaning behind the gift in a classic mumble rumble as Toshinori wipes his eyes and rolls the weighted links into his palm, his other hand coming to rest on the smooth grey fabric covering his soon-to-be son’s shaking shoulder.
“Young M- Izuku. Thank you, truly. They’re a wonderful thought, from a wonderful son. I’m honored to be joining your family. Truly.”
Izuku starts wailing in earnest as a porter comes running with tissues in an attempt to keep salt and snot off the brushed fabric of their new suits while their particularly dedicated photographer tries to turn the calamity into a cute shot.
While he’s having his moment, Toshinori gingerly picks up the first blossom and threads it through his cuff, fingers wobbling a little with emotion as the gift clicks into place.
How did he get so lucky?
That’s the thought that follows him from the guest house to the small shrine, across the paved steps and into the courtyard where his future is waiting for him. They’re blending ceremonies here, the two lovers picking and choosing between the America that All Might loves and the Japan that nurtured them both and brought them together.
He’s in a suit, no family crest to sew on to a kimono, no mother or matchmaker to stand behind him at the shrine. She’s in a traditional shiromuku, but there are small bright flowers of yellow rebellion sewn into the edges of the kimono and no tsunokakushi to hide her “horns of anger.” Instead, she’s all soft smiles and openness, hair tied into a simple knot and ornamented by a hairpin of tinkling bells and agate petals.
Cherry blossoms.
Neither is in the spring of youth, yet as they gaze at one another across the smooth stones, the blush of first love colors their soft glances and trembling hearts. As they come together, he smiles down at her, electric eyes roving over her challenges to tradition in breathless approval. Toshinori doesn’t want her to hide anything, not ever, and it’s part of what drew them together.
They enter the shrine together, Izuku and Naomasa bringing up the rear.
The sake cups are another tradition Inko offered to forego, but Toshinori settles on the water-cut version of the spirit often given as a child’s first celebratory sip instead, eager to share in this ritual with his beloved. He swears he’s never tasted anything so sweet.
Their nuptial cups are followed with sips for their two witnesses and offerings to the gods.
Prayers for happiness and peace and a long autumn for their newly-shared lives.
And then there are the rings, held in sacred trust by the boy that binds them together. As Toshinori whispers the words he never dreamed he’d get to say, he slips a simple golden band down the finger of the woman who fills his every day with love. Inko joins her son in waterfall tears, choking in happy huffs as she mimics the motion, babbling about the future and her love as this symbol of her devotion slips across a swollen joint and into the cradle of his finger.
He looks good as a taken man.
The priest recites the final blessings, and Toshinori leans forward, eyes bright and heart suddenly threatening to beat out of his rattling chest. She’s just so lovely, and as his eyes flutter closed, he regrets that he can’t capture this moment perfectly in his mind. But even without sight, he sees every detail clear as day, at least until her lips press against his.
Then he can’t see anything at all, so swept up in the sweetness of the gesture and the profound change it represents.
Lucky for him, Naomasa, that old sap, is recording the whole thing.
The private ceremony ended, Naomasa and Izuku wave and wander away, headed for the larger reception where friends and family are gathered to celebrate the newly dubbed “Symbol of Matrimony” and the marriage that many never imagined they’d see.
Toshinori and Inko join hands and head to the guest house, ostensibly to change into reception clothing, but that’s a secondary concern. They’re so grateful for the love and support that surrounds them, but for the moment, what they really crave is a moment alone together, the first of many.
They arrive at the threshold and in a moment of spontaneity, Toshinori picks her up and carries her laughing into the cozy cottage.
“Ah! Toshinori!” She’s kicking her feet gently and all the sudden she’s fifteen again, giggling in the arms of a cute boy.
He smiles down at her and gently tickles down her side, adding in a self-deprecating smirk, “What can I say? I’ve always wanted to do this and if we wait until tonight, who knows if this old man will manage it.”
Inko unclasps a hand from his neck and runs her fingers over his sunken cheek as he sets her down, arms still wrapped around her in a loose embrace, like he wants to extend this small moment as long as possible.
“Oh, I think this old man has plenty left in him.”
She leans forward and kisses him more aggressively this time, humming in amusement as Toshinori tenses around her as if worried he’s doing something wrong. He relaxes when his mind catches up with his racing heart.
Right, we’re married, remember?
He returns the gesture shyly and gently begins the process of unraveling Inko from the folds of richly layered kimono, covering his eyes as she’s reduced to her slip, but still catching a flash of faintest teal that shimmers like silk.
Inko breaks into full body laughs as she takes in the sight of her new husband, eyes shut tight and kimono held up like a shield against her state of undress. The fact that she’s more covered than when wearing a swimsuit doesn’t seem to matter to him.
It’s the context of the thing.
She gently takes the heavy fabric from him and hums her way to the dressing room, giving her poor sweetie an auditory cue for when it’s safe to open his eyes. This mixture of age and innocence is part of what drew her to Toshinori, part of what convinced her heart that it was okay to love again.
That this hero would never hurt her.
She thinks she hears him gulping down some water and smiles into the brightly patterned tea-length navy dress that Izuku helped her pick out and get embroidered with silver storks and turquoise blossoms in an ode to the man who they both came to love so dearly.
She steps back into the sitting room, patting down her re-arranged hair and twirling in front of the gaping Toshinori.
“Too much?”
“Wh- No, not at all. You’re radiant, and it’s perfect.”
She smirks mischievously, “Well, it’s not perfect yet, darling.”
Toshinori knits his brows together and tries to catalog every stitch, finding no false note. Inko breaks into a brilliant smile and spins around, revealing the curve of her back and more of that tantalizing under-slip.
“Zip me up, would you?”
Toshinori complies, fingers caressing against sunkissed skin as his hands splay across her and his mind wanders to all the blessings he’s received, none more precious than the woman in front of him and the son she molded into a hero. He gulps again, sure that at any moment this dream will end, but it doesn’t.
The dream continues, for year and years, forever; taking root in a thousand happy memories and countless soft moments, a lifetime together that renews every year with the bloom of the cherry blossoms and the triumphs of their priceless son.
No one could ask for more.
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