#And East has a new purple dress

[mrsometimes11]

Map from Facebook

Interesting and all, but why do the two sides of the Strait of Bosphorus look like they're about to kiss?

[baronessvonglitter]

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 1

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring nightclub owner! Javier Peña)

Word count: 2,779

Summary: A chance meeting at a museum brings you companionship when you least expect it.

(Warnings contain spoilers beneath the cut)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for allusion to smut/light smut and eventual smut. Rom com vibes throughout. AU as stated above. Reader wears dress and makeup. Mentions of loneliness. TW for infidelity and some violence (nobody harmed.. physically)

Author's Note: Some of you may be thinking, 'but Adriana, don't you already have a series about Dave?' to which I answer a resounding Yes, but I've left that story at a good place for right now and will get to updating it as time allows. Plus I really just wanted to do a light and fluffy story 😊 Fun fact: all the chapters are named after rom-com tropes 😉There will be more Pedro characters added in later chapters, so be on the lookout. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

You put on your earrings in the mirror, little violet flower earrings that match the soft purple in your dress. Your mascara, freshly applied, is at risk of being cried away before you grab a tissue to dab at your eyes.

"You're sure you're not upset?" your husband Javier asks behind you, sitting up in bed with a fresh cigarette between his lips.

"Of course not," you smile, doing your best to tamper down your feelings and brush your selfishness aside. "I know the business comes first." Javi has important meetings regarding his nightclub, more than ever these days, it seems. You're a good wife in letting him do what he needs to do.

"You know I'd come with you if I could. And hey, the museum's always gonna be there," he reasons. "Besides, we'll catch dinner later tonight at that new steakhouse on the east side."

"It's just.." you turn to face him, leaning against the vanity. "Today's the last day of the Kusama exhibit. I wanted to see it with you."

"Baby, we can catch it another time."

"After this they're moving across the country," you pout, not meaning to, but it's the umpteenth time Javier has broken his promise to you.

"Come here."

You obey his soft command, sitting on the edge of the bed, your skin warming to his touch as his fingers graze up and down your arm. "You smell good, baby. You used that perfume I got you?"

"Yeah," you smile, lifting your other wrist to your nose. "Roses de Chloe. My favorite."

"My favorite too, on you." He stubs out his cigarette and pulls you in for a kiss.

"Javi," you giggle as his hand dips below the scooped neckline of your dress, cupping your breast. "Didn't you get enough earlier?"

"I didn't fuck you good enough if you're still able to walk," he smirks, pulling you down against his chest.

"I'm already running late," you sigh as he pulls the top of your dress down and his lips pucker around your nipple, sucking and pulling.

"Late for a museum? Only you would worry about that, honey. Now come on," he says, scooting down on the bed. "Lift up that dress, baby, and sit on my fucking face."

Dave has been waiting in line with his daughters for only fifteen minutes when the announcement is made that tickets are officially sold out. Alice and Molly look up at him, expecting him to do something, but what exactly can he do? "Look, girls, I'm sorry. We'll have to come back another day."

"We wanted to see the exhibit. I wanted to take a selfie with those big neon wiggly things," Molly pouts.

"I know, sweetie, but it's just not in the cards today." He ruffles her hair, hating to disappoint them.

There's a scent of roses as he feels someone approach the three of them. "Hey, sorry, I heard you wanted to get into the exhibit."

Dave looks up and sees you, and has a momentary lapse of thought, struck by how pretty you are. Floral dress, white sweater, lavender bag. It's like you've stepped out from a commercial.

"Um.. yes, my daughters are kind of upset that tickets sold out so quick. It's my fault for not purchasing them ahead of time." He smiles sheepishly, wondering what you must think of him.

"I can get you in with me," you offer. "I have a membership pass. Kids get in free and I can bring one other person."

"You don't have to do that-"

"Please. I want to." You take a look at his daughters, who are looking back at you with hope in their pretty little eyes. "You'd be doing me a favor by accepting," you tell Dave.

The girls tug on his hands, jumping up and down, begging him to take up your offer until he at last relents. "Okay, okay," he chuckles. "Thank you, Miss..?"

You give him your name, offer your hand, which he takes in his own. He repeats it back to you, making sure he's got it right, the taste of your name like a sweet swig of wine in his mouth.

He introduces himself, Dave York, and his kids Molly and Alice, minus the wife Carol, who's working a double shift today. The usual pleasantries are exchanged, nervous smiles, comments about the weather.

Even after you break the handshake he swears he can still feel your skin against his, soft and delicate.

You willingly split from him once you're inside, not wanting him to feel beholden to stay at your side because of your help. Besides, you're used to outings where you're by yourself. It gives you time to think.

The exhibit is just as gorgeous in person as you've seen online. Love is Calling is an area filled with brightly-lit neon orange, purple, green, and yellow inflatable shapes that remind you of large stalagmites and stalactites covered in big black polka dots, which change colors gradually.

"It's like being in another world," someone says next to you, and you look up to find Dave.

"Yeah," you agree, smiling as you look around. "Like Dr. Seuss's world."

He laughs at that, and watches his older daughter take a selfie just as she'd wanted to do. You like his laugh, and a deeper part of you wants to hear it more often. From the corner of your eye you watch him in profile. Dark brown hair, neatly combed to the side, coffee-colored eyes, aquiline nose, soft-looking lips with a prominent cupid's bow, and a clean shaven jaw.

You realize you've been staring too long, blush creeping up your neck as you turn away just before he sees.

"Do you hear that?" he asks, brows drawn together in concentration.

You grab the brochure from inside your bag. "It's the artist, Yayoi Kusama, reciting a love poem in Japanese," you read. "The poem is called 'Residing in a Castle of Shed Tears'."

"Sad title for such a whimsical place."

"True.." you watch his girls playing, hiding from each other among the colorful shapes. "They're having fun."

"Do you have any of your own?" he asks.

"Oh.. no. My husband and I didn't want any." It was a little white lie-- Javier had gotten a vasectomy without your knowledge right after you'd gotten married. But it's not anything a stranger needs to know.

"They're.. life-changing," Dave says.

"No boys?"

He shakes his head. "We are pretty much done ourselves."

"Ah. Got it."

Entering into the next area is the most magical part. The infinity mirror room, dark but for a blue tint cast throughout, and hundreds of tiny LED lights. You're multiplied throughout the mirrors within, in seemingly endless space. It takes your breath away.

Next to you, Dave's fingers accidentally brush yours and you both startle from it, laughing a little nervously before you move away. You try not to think about the jolt that went through you at the contact.

You try to stay as long as you can in this area, before the next crowd comes in. It's in this one place you don't feel like yourself, as if you exist far apart from your life, and it's a very freeing feeling.

Dave loses you after the exhibit, and stamps down the disappointment at realizing he might not ever see you again. He tries to show the girls some art, what little he studied in college, explaining the way certain painters painted the way they did, or the intricacy of a sculpture. Molly and Alice don't seem interested, but they like spending time with him.

His heart jumps when he sees you across the gallery, studying a Renaissance painting, staying long after the others have moved onto other pieces. You must feel his eyes on you because you turn, and with a little smile you wave at him. He waves back, holding back a full on grin as you approach him. "Thought you'd left by now."

"I could stay here all day," you tell him, and there's something about the dreamy look in your eyes that melts his heart. A silent agreement crosses between you and you circle the gallery together.

So close to you now, he tries to be stealthy about his glances at you. He can't defend the awkward rhythm of his heart when you move closer to whisper some fact about the painter of this particular still-life. All he can think about is your scent: rose perfume, a sweet vanilla in your shampoo, and something else, unfamiliar and yet he'd know it from a mile away.

Sex. You smell like sex.

His eyes dart quickly to your dress, the flesh of your thighs not covered, wondering if you know, if you even care, because truth is he doesn't mind it at all.

Stop looking at her. You're married. She's married. The band of gold glistening on your finger is a dead giveaway.

"We need to come out here more often," he says, hoping to find a reason to run into you again. "We should get going. But not before a stop at the gift shop, right?" And the girls agree excitedly.

You pop in with them, not really knowing why. Maybe it's because Dave is so nice, or because his daughters are adorable and you'd like to have your own someday.

You're perusing the section near the cashier's desk you and Dave both reach for the same poster: Starry, Starry Night by Van Gogh.

"Sorry," you say at the same time, awkwardly letting go.

"You should take it," he offers.

"No, no.. your girls should have it. I wasn't going to buy it anyway."

He shakes his head, a little smile on his lips, which you can't stop glancing at. "You've done so much for us today.."

"Please," you insist, handing him the poster tube.

It's a warm feeling to watch the girls so excited, ending their day on a high note. You walk outside altogether, the late afternoon giving way to early evening.

"We wanted to thank you again. Right, girls?" And his daughters give a polite 'thank you' in unison, their cute faces beaming.

"It's my pleasure," you smile serenely at them. "I hope I'll see you again sometime. I actually own a little place a couple blocks away. It's a bookstore-slash-bakery."

"We could go check it out," Dave offers, and the girls are excited to spend more time on their adventure.

Dave doesn't know what to expect when he steps foot into your bookstore/bakery, Fiction & Frosting, but he can tell right away it's absolutely your creation. The bakery section is at the front, the scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and coffee greeting him, giving a cozy atmosphere right away. The glass display cases boast treats of all kinds: cookies, cupcakes, cake pops, brownies, everything a bakery could have. Down the counter, employees are making coffee, preparing orders as customers wait patiently, thumbing through the books they've already purchased.

He smiles when you slip behind the counter, getting the girls some treats after making sure it's okay with him, and strawberry milk to go with their sweets. Dave declines at first but is unable to resist a blueberry muffin and a black coffee. He insists on paying you, but you refuse his money. It's easy to be kind to him and his kids. You like taking advantage of being able to do nice things for others.

The four of you stroll the bookstore area, the atmosphere cozy, the scent of paper and ink that only a literary shop can provide. There are new releases as well as classics; magazines and journals. "This is impressive. I can't remember what this place used to be, and I've worked across the street from here for years." Dave says. Alice and Molly are looking at the kids' section.

"Oh you have?" you smile. "I've always wondered what that place is." All you know is it's a high-rise building, sleek glass and metal, with expensive suits coming and going.

"Here," he says, reaching into his wallet and pulling out his business card. Your fingers brush together for a moment during the transfer, and you both smile.

"You're a.. divorce attorney," you say, voice somewhat flat.

"Uh, yeah," he says as if he could apologize. He glances at your ring again, twisting his own gold band as if to ground his thoughts and remind himself that you're both taken.

When you burst into tears he freezes, his jacket left behind in his car with the handkerchief he would have given you. Luckily you pull a tissue from your purse and press it to your face.

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you," he says, softly rubbing your back.

"I'm fine," comes your muffled reply. "I just.. I'm just emotional, that's all."

"Is everything all right.. at home?" he asks, concerned by your tears. So many years in this field and he knows an unhappy wife when he sees one.

"I don't.. is it okay if I don't talk about it?" you sniffle.

"Of course. I didn't mean to pry," he assures you, his voice soothing. He keeps his hand on your back, waiting for you to let it all out.

"I'm such a fool," you manage a smile at him through your tears. "I didn't mean to blow up like that."

"It's okay," he says, dabbing at a streak of mascara you'd missed on your cheek. "My number's on the card. If you ever just want to talk, please call. I promise not to charge you," he adds with a little chuckle, hoping to lift your spirits.

"Or maybe.. you could come by for a coffee. I promise not to charge you." You give him a real, true smile.

It's almost as if you don't want to go home, but there's no reason to stay once Dave and the girls have left the shop. The drive home isn't as long, despite the traffic.

You can hear the music from the front hallway. "Moment" by Victoria Monet, the smooth bass and vocals providing an atmosphere you typically walk into when Javi's in the mood, which is often. You smile, wondering if he's expecting your arrival and setting the mood before you go out to dinner. As often as he does break his promises, he has his ways of making up for it. You open the door to your bedroom.

"Babe, I--"

You freeze into place as your world breaks wide open.

Another woman is in your bed with your husband, her body writhing on top of him.

Rooted to the spot, you watch helplessly as this happens. His hands are all over her body, he's calling her all the pet names he calls you. Mami, hermosa, carino, ven por mi.

"What the fuck??" you shout over the music, putting a stop to the extramarital fucking going on in your marriage bed. Javi and his bitch scramble to cover up. "This is the meeting you absolutely couldn't miss??" You glare daggers at the woman, who's avoiding your gaze as she hurriedly puts her skimpy dress back on. You recognize her-- Cindy, one of the bartenders at his club. "Get out of here, you slut! I don't want to see you in this house ever again!" You throw nearest thing - a bottle of perfume from your vanity - at her, narrowly missing her as Roses de Chloe crashes against the wall. Cindy manages to escape unscathed but the true target of your fury remains.

"Didn't expect you back so early, baby. I can explain," Javier says, getting his jeans back on, forgoing his underwear. But you back away before he can come near you.

"Explain?? Explain to me how you fell into your employee dick-first!"

He looks guilty for only a second, a little smile on his lips as he tries again to broach your defenses. "She means nothing to me. She's just going through a lot right now and I wanted to help her. I can't help that she came on strong." He studies you, his face a perfect facade of innocence, eyebrows slightly lifted, plush lips pouting beneath his perfectly groomed mustache.

But you know better. You shrink from him as he tries to reach out and hold you.

You're sick to your stomach over his lies, and the readiness with which you have accepted them in the past. "Don't touch me!" you shout, ready to hurl something at him. "Don't ever come near me again," you manage, right before tears spill over your eyes. Without a second thought you hurry out of the house you've shared with him for years, get into your car and drive away.

dividers by @strangergraphics & @cafekitsune👑

Taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @eviispunk @mrs-pedro-pascal @zascal

@sunnytuliptime @mysticsuitcasealmondwombat

@joelmillerisapunk @almostfoxglove @itwasntimethatdidit40

@604to647 @milla-frenchy @everybodylovedcontractors

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to A Coronation

Coronations are the ceremony in which your monarch is confirmed by church or state or the people by the bestowing of a crown and regalia and the taking of oaths. So how do we write them?

When does Coronation takes place?

A Coronation usually takes place some time after death of the previous monarch. Past coronations would take place mere weeks after the death of a monarch as it was essential that the monarch be crowned to confirm their legitimacy. Modern coronations would take place months after the death of a monarch. In this time period, the new monarch IS the monarch - just uncrowned. This does not effect their powers in any way.

What’s in a Coronation?

Coronations are usually very lavish affairs. These are not only just ceremonies, these are statements a sort of opening show to the monarch's reign. A Coronation will usually be accompanied by numerous parades, balls, pageants, military displays and concerts. It's usually framed as a celebration of the Royal family of the monarch or the nation as a whole. The population is expected to celebrate.

Who attends a Coronation?

Coronations were big affairs. Many invitations would be sent out, inviting representatives from other nations, friends and allies, even uncertain friends and unfriendly nations. Other monarchs are generally not invited out of tradition but they will send heirs and relatives to represent them. Coronations were a display of wealth and power and it was in the monarch's best interest to get as many people there as possible. Coronations were also essential to monarchy for one very good reason: not only were you recognised by the state but it was a chance to accept fealty - promises of loyalty - from nobles. Many nobles from across the land would be invited to witness and then profess their loyalty to the Monarch.

What to Wear to a Coronation?

Coronations were meant to be pageants so everybody wore their very best clothes, jewels and put their best foot forward. Peers or nobles would wear red velvet robes (see above) over their clothes along with coronets (also see above) denoting rank. Traditional clothing would also be encouraged, the Japanese Imperial family often don traditional garments for their enthronements. The Royal family would wear military uniform or royal robes usually purple velvet rather than red trimmed with ermine. They would also wear coronets. The monarch would usually be the most expensive dressed, yet however this can also backfire. The monarch has to be modest yet also outdone everybody. George IV made the grave faux pas of spending a shit ton of money on his outfit for the coronation which he only wore the once. Most monarchs tend to have their Robes and clothes embroidered with emblems of the nation and to wear significant relics during the ceremony.

The Ceremony

After a procession through the streets the monarch and/or their Consort arrive on the scene. They will be wrapped in red velvet Robes on their arrival and accompanied by pages or maids of honour who help carry the train of their Robes.

Before the monarch, selected peers will carry the regalia. These are the relics that are bestowed on the monarch throughout the ceremony. These usually include the crown itself, the sceptres, the coronation ring, the coronation Robes and an orb.

In some instances, the monarch would be presented to the assembled crowd at each Cardinal point - North, south, east, west and proclaimed the undoubted king/queen/sovereign. It is then the crowd issue an acceptance.

Monarchs would then be asked to take oaths by the figure ordaining them before the assembled crowd. These oaths would be one of service, something along the lines of promising to uphold law and tradition, being merciful, trying not to murder the peasants too much, keep their deity on side and try not to be too much of a failure.

Then monarch will sit on the throne and be anointed. During this part, they usually put a linen smock over their clothes to protect their finery. The anointing in Western culture is usually linked to Christianity, with the application of holy oil. However, the annointing can be replaced with a blessing in any other setting. During this part of the ceremony, the monarch and/or the Consort is shielded by a canopy of cloth of gold held aloft by high ranking nobles. This part of the ceremony is not to be witnessed by the crowd. It is sacred.

Then the monarch is wrapped in their new Robes. They are presented the regalia. The orb represents the monarch's power. The ring is symbolic of wedding oneself to duty. The sceptre is symbolic of power over governance. Once the monarch has been wrapped up and given these items, the Crown is then lowered onto their head. The crown is usually a jewel stubbed coronet fitted over a velvet cap and trimmed with ermine. There would be the monarch's crown and the Consort's crown (which is usually that much smaller). Around them, the nobility will place their coronets on simultaneously while the military give a gun salute.

After this, the Royal family and the peers would then come and kneel before the monarch, removing their coronets and making their oath of "I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors according to law. So help me God." Once the path is made, they can step back and put their coronet back on.

Once homage is paid, the Consort would then be crowned if this is a married couple having their coronation. Consorts do not have to take an oath but they are given a coronation ring, a crown and sceptres.

Once everybody has made their oaths and the monarch can barely move under their Robes and regalia, it is time for the monarch to make a procession back through the streets - now a crowned monarch.

When Coronations go Wrong

Like most ceremonies, things can go wrong at coronations. Most coronations go off without a hitch yet there are always downsides to a large, expensive ceremony of an unelected figurehead. Surprisingly.

Coronations are often long affairs. There are numerous historical accounts of peers and guests fainting from the exertion of standing in such heavy Robes. These Robes were not only deadly because of heat exhaustion but also their length. The elderly Lord Rolle actually fell down a flight of steps at Queen Victoria's coronation.

Many past coronations have failed due to poor planning. Nicholas II and his Consort Alexandra's coronation was a very lavish affair however due to terrible planning, a stampede occurred where thousands of Russian people where injured and killed. Despite the tragedy, the Couple did not visit the site or the injured, instead going to the French ambassador's ball on bad advice. History would remember him as Bloody Nicholas, made all the more bloody by the Revolution years after.

George IV, as per usual, caused consternation at his own coronation by constantly walking out from under his canopy which caused the nobles holding it to speed up making it all look rather silly.

Guestlists are often contentious points. It is very important not to jar international relations by snubbing foreign powers. While some of the nobles are invited, it is usually expected that the crown will invite representatives from all nations. If invitations are not issued, it can lead to issues. The Royal family is nearly always invited in its entirety even despite criminal activity (fuck you Andrew) but sometimes snubs are issued. Caroline of Brunswick, the rightful Queen Consort, was actually barred from being crowned by her husband. Its rumoured that her hammering on the door could be heard throughout George IV's coronation. Edward VIII, the King who abdicated over his love for Wallis Simpson, was not invited to either his brother's subsequent coronation or his niece's due to the optics of him being a former king and his rumoured ties to Britain's enemies.

Queen Victoria's coronation got off to a very bad start since the coronation ring had been made too small and then shoved onto the wrong ring. Victoria wrote in her diary that she had to rest her hand in ice for the rest of the day.

Coronations are framed as ceremonies of celebrations and national might and while that may be their intention, they are very often, rightly, subject to criticism. Coronations are widely expensive and very often are a display out outdated or unpopular ideals especially modern coronations. In a post WWI world the time of difference is now over and the media rightly critises such an expensive and outdated ceremony. Many monarchies have hastened to modernise to keep up with the new world, cutting down the budgets and revamping the ceremonies. The Swedish monarchs are no longer crowned but instead invested through an oath and sitting on their famous Silver Throne. However, many feel that coronations are becoming a thing of the past and may not be seen in the future.

[somedayillbepeterpan]

FOR BONUS POLINWEEK

DAY ONE | Favourite Season 3 scene: The Butterfly ball

PART 2: THE COLOURS, THE FEATHERS, AND THE NUMBER 8

The Dankworth-Finch ball has several notable pieces in the venue.

That the ball was centred on the colours ORANGE AND PURPLE

The colour orange conveys feelings of warmth, joy, and confidence. It is also strongly associated with creativity. 

The colour purple symbolises mystery, independence, and royalty. In the old days, only people from royalty can afford purple thread as it was rare and very expensive. The colour then became associated with the display of opulence and the wealth of the family. 

The combination of Orange and Purple is associated with the colour of sunset. 

2. That the venue had 8 COLUMNS and an 8 PIECE ENSEMBLE.

The platform had 8 columns and an 8-piece ensemble. The number 8 aside from symbolising infinity also symbolises stability often associated with financial power, prosperity, and karma.

3. That the centrepiece design is made up of OSTRICH FEATHERS.

The ostrich feathers are known to various tribes in East African cultures as a symbol of wealth and prestige. 

All of the above alludes to wealth, status, and prestige which we all know is NOT the Featheringtons. But the Butterfly ball not only is a triumph for Philippa and Prudence but Pen revealing herself as LW, albeit a double-edged revelation, also adds prestige to this often ridiculed family. I know that Pen touched on how people might not so quickly forget how she as LW has ridiculed the ton but her being an ally (and a recognised) rival to the Queen gives her power that no one in the ton has.

I especially love the symbolism of the colours. Both colours perfectly describes who Pen is as both Penelope and LW. Then there is the fact that the combination of orange and purple is often associated with sunset makes me think that this is Pen closing the chapter of LW as her secret and going into a new dawn as Pen who has accepted herself fully as LW.

Say what you want about the Featheringtons or their redemption arc but I love that this happened because of Pen stepping out of the shadows. I especially love her recognising that she has more in common with Portia that she thinks that LW couldn't have come out of nothing. Portia-- who were both a suspect and a victim of her circumstances was the one who pushed Pen to do better. I want people to remember that the Butterfly ball wouldn't be what it became if not for Pen and Portia's confrontation.

I have no idea if the writers were very intentional with all these details but I just love learning what the meanings are behind them.

PART 3: THE FEATHERINGTON DRESSES

PART 1: THE VENUE AND A FULL CIRCLE MOMENT

[catgirl-dee]

Hi so I wrote some horny NSFW mistress/bodyguard/maid AU fiction using my OCs and I decided that this fits the vibes of my Tumblr. Oh yeah and it's 3266 words btw so more after the cut

horny stuff: everyone is trans and sapphic, polyamorous, (kinda) cnc, light bondage, groping, lots of making out, edging, orgasm denial, begging, penetration (oral, pussy, ass), eating out/fingering pussy, cuddles

A knock sounded at Autumn’s door. “Come in,” she says, looking up from her desk.

The door opens to admit three new people. Autumn stood up from the desk to greet them.

“We’re the bodyguard and maids that Miss Asta hired. She said to report here.”

“Miss Asta”, or Autumn's mom, is often away on business trips. For her upcoming month-long stay on the east coast, she had decided that she should staff the house. Additionally, some secret company events made her hire bodyguards for herself and her daughter. Autumn repeated to her that she’s in college and doesn’t need a babysitter anymore. But here they are.

Autumn pauses to size up the one who spoke first. She’s tall, with clearly defined muscles and beautiful dark brown skin. She’s dressed in a tie, button-up white shirt, crisp suit, and pants. Even her short hair says tough and formal. At the moment, she looks a little unsure right now under Autumn’s scrutinizing gaze.

Autumn smiles warmly. “I’m Autumn, it’s nice to meet you. What are your names?”

“I’m Vivian,” the first one says, bowing.

“Lilac,” the smaller maid says.

“And I’m Cadence, they/she. Miss Asta assured me that my pronouns are fine.” Both of the maids curtsy. Autumn nodded reassuringly, indicating that their pronouns wouldn’t be a problem.

Autumn observes the two maids next. They’re both dressed in stereotypical cute maid dresses. Lilac is short and has long straight black hair gathered in a high ponytail. Autumn can tell she’s attached to Cadence and a little nervous.

Cadence is closer to Autumn’s height. Her short curly brown hair and minimal makeup gives the impression of androgyny. They carry themselves with an air of confidence.

They’re all so cute. Maybe Autumn could get used to this. She moves over and sits down on her bed. “Please, have a seat. It’s too awkward when you stand in the doorway like that.” She casually pats the bed.

Autumn takes in the mixture of emotions on their faces. Vivian looks a little caught off guard, with another emotion Autumn couldn’t quite read—curiosity? Her professional demeanor is tough, sadly. Lilac and Cadence look various parts confused and unsure. They all sit in the beanbag chairs near the bed, and Autumn does her best to hide her disappointment.

Vivian, with all the professionalism she could muster while sinking into a purple beanbag, says, “Miss Asta told me to be around you 24/7. Wherever you go, I go.”

“That’s okay, this bed is big enough for both of us,” Autumn replies. “Though, how does that work when I need the bathroom?”

To her delight, the mask slips for a second, but Vivian quickly recovers, though she can’t quite get the blush off of her face. “I have a cot that I’ll set up on the floor, and I’ll be stationed outside any bathroom or stall you’re in.” Still, Autumn noticed the look in her eye. Vivian is clearly looking at Autumn in a certain way. Maybe it has something to do with her old tank top and shorts that she wore because she didn’t expect anyone to see her like this, or maybe it’s the way she’s lazily sprawled on the bed.

“Oh, that won’t do. I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable while you sleep. Trust me, it’ll be fine. Plus, you’re supposed to be by my side at all times, right?” She makes a fake look of innocence before turning to the maids, not giving Vivian a chance to respond. “And you, dears? I do have this extra bed that I can clear the plushies off of. I’ve been using it as a sofa, since it’s so comfy.”

Lilac only blushes and tries to stammer something, but Cadence is faster. “Thank you, miss.” They seem to have picked up on how to respond based on Autumn’s interaction with Vivian. A quick learner.

“Well, I feel like going out for an early dinner. Lilac, Cadence, won’t you come with us?”

“Oh, well we have a lot to do around here. We should stay,” says Lilac.

Autumn rolls her eyes. “I know you’ve probably been running around all day already. You deserve a break.” She rises from the bed, sorting through her wardrobe of dresses. The maids take this as a signal to wait outside, but Vivian seems unsure what to do. Autumn just pulls off her top, getting a good reaction from Vivian as she quickly turns and heads for the door.

“What’s the matter, dear? You’re supposed to be with me at all times, remember?” She pulls her shorts off too.

“It’s just… you’re changing, and I—”

“It’s okay, don't worry. Plus, we’re both girls, right? Not a big deal. Oh, can you help me with the zipper on this? It’s always a pain to reach myself.”

Autumn’s back is turned to Vivian, but she can see her red face in one of the mirrors to the side. Vivian quickly zips up the dress, then gets even more flustered as Autumn takes her hand and leads her out of the room. As she does, Autumn traces a finger on Vivian’s shorter index and middle nails, causing Vivian to look away in embarrassment.

At the restaurant, Vivian had insisted on sitting next to Autumn to better protect her. Though maybe there were other motives in that decision, as Autumn is very aware of Vivian’s eyes on her as she makes small talk with everyone. She did choose this dress on purpose, after all, and the revealing sleeveless nature of it seemed to be working. Even Lilac and occasionally Cadence stole glaces when they thought they could get away with it.

“Is there something wrong?” Autumn asks suddenly.

“Miss Autumn?” Vivian sounds concerned, looking around. Good, she’s still thinking of her job.

“No, it’s just that you three keep looking at me like there’s something on my face or chest. Did I get crumbs stuck there?” She leans forward as she does, causing her breasts to wiggle slightly and giving them a better view of her cleavage.

Oh, she’s really enjoying teasing them. Vivian mumbles something that sounds like “Nothing”, and suddenly becomes focused on scanning the room. Lilac has the cutest deer-in-the-headlights stare, and Cadence is suddenly absorbed with their salad.

“You three have been acting off for a bit now,” she continues. “If there’s an issue with me, I’d like to hear it. I really don’t want to come off as strict and overbearing, and I want to treat you like people. So tell me what’s on your mind.”

Vivian speaks first. “I—well, it’s slightly embarrassing. And I’d rather tell you in private…”

Autumn laughs to herself. This girl loves speaking up and making her situation worse. “But you all are giving me the same look, so you must have similar issues. Can you share with everyone? They may have the same problem.”

Vivian turns slightly red, before stammering, “We’re in public…”

“I happened to choose a booth meant to make it harder for others to hear without visibly approaching our table. The restaurant made these for important, more private conversations. Now speak your mind, dear bodyguard.”

Vivian swallows. “But it still feels wrong to say it here…”

Cadence comes to her rescue. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, miss, but we could save it until we’re back at home if she really doesn’t feel comfortable.”

“Alright. And with me, there’s no such thing as ‘speaking out of turn’. Please, I’m so tired of that formal and emotionless bullshit. I don't mean to be harsh, but I've heard too much of it.”

“Yes, miss,” Cadence nods their head. She’s still being formal, but Autumn lets it slide. She moves on to a fun story about one of her cats who manages to get everywhere he shouldn’t be, causing mass havoc as cats do.

Back in her room, Autumn stretches. “I want to go for my usual nighttime swim,” she says, picking out the smallest bikini she has. Even the maids are too curious to leave without being told this time. Autumn deftly slips out of her dress, then starts stripping off her undergarments. She pretends not to hear a small eep come from Lilac while slipping the bikini on.

When she’s finished, she turns back to Vivian.  “Hmm, maybe it’s easier if we talk here first.” She reclines on the bed. “Sit.” She pats the bed again, and to her satisfaction, they all sit on the edge of the bed. “So what did you want to talk about?” She playfully pops up in between Vivian and Lilac, batting Vivian’s tie and adjusting the bow on Lilac’s back.

“It’s really embarrassing,” Vivian begins.

“Do go on,” Autumn encourages. She begins to lightly touch Vivian’s biceps, feeling how toned they are.

“What are you doing?” Her voice is suddenly a lot more unsteady.

“I’m examining my bodyguard’s muscles, of course. I need to feel that you're strong and capable. Now please continue.” At the same time, she takes Lilac’s hand in a gentle caress, causing the girl to shiver all over. Cadence almost immediately steals Lilac’s attention by squishing up against her and getting more risky with where they touch, so Autumn returns her attention to Vivian’s sexy muscles.

“Promise you won’t be weirded out or think less of me.”

“I promise, Viv. Now spill.” Autumn traces her hand up to Vivian’s neck, making her shudder a bit in excitement.

“Well, um, I just wanted to say something about you, is that all right…?”

Autumn grabs Vivian’s face in her hands. “Vivian, I order you to stop beating around the bush. What is it?”

“You’re—” she pauses, but manages to find the resolve to continue, “—beautiful and sexy and hot and—”

Autumn steals a glance at the maids, but their faces are a few inches apart, and she decides to let them be. “Oh, so direct. Good girl. Now, I do have to ask, why?” She presses closer to Vivian, her bikini against Vivian’s back.

Suddenly, Vivian spins, grabbing Autumn and forcing her back on the bed. Straddling her, Vivian mutters, “You want me to prove how strong I am? Well, you’ve been teasing us all day with your body and your words, and I can’t handle you anymore.” At this turn of events, the maids stop eating each other’s faces and crawl over to watch the show.

Autumn experimentally tries to move, but her hands are pinned down by an iron grip, and her lower half is immobilized from Vivian’s weight. “Now, that’s more like it, sugar.”

Vivian makes a sound somewhere between a groan and sigh. “See, this is what I mean. You’re completely helpless right now, and yet you’re such a tease. You’ve practically been begging for this to happen.” She moves Autumn’s hands over her head, easily slipping off her bikini. Then she notices how delighted Autumn’s face is, and tries a different strategy.

“Cadence, dear?” she says softly. “Do you know where any good rope is around here?” Cadence grins mischievously and opens Autumn’s cabinet, unearthing a couple coils from her underwear drawer.

“How did—” Autumn starts, but Cadence just giggles.

“It’s my job!” They toss the rope to Vivian, who expertly ties Autumn’s wrists above her head and to the headboard. Then Vivian turns away from Autumn while still straddling her.

“Good girl,” Vivian croons to Cadence. “Come here.” Cadence does, flushing, and Vivian grabs their face and pulls them in for a kiss. Cadence leans into it further with a whimper.

Lilac, watching the show with Autumn, gives a small sigh. Without letting up on the kiss, Vivian pulls Lilac in too and reaches down the collar of her maid dress, grabbing her breasts, and Lilac lets out a small surprised gasp of pleasure.

Autumn has no choice but to watch as they all make out and grasp each other on top of her. She tries to rub herself against Vivian’s knee, but Vivian ignores her for a while in favor of sticking her tongue down Lilac’s throat.

After what feels like forever, Vivian breaks a kiss with a very hazy-eyed Lilac to look down at Autumn, and Autumn can’t help but make a small sound, somewhere between satisfaction and fear.

“Oh, Autumn, is there something you want?” Vivian smiles sweetly. She dramatically trails her gaze down Autumn's body. “You’re soaking your bikini, dear.”

Autumn whimpers, silently pleading with her. Vivian’s grin only widens at the sound. “Honey, you should use your words. I can’t understand your little animal noises, as cute as they might be.”

Burning bright red, her freckles quickly disappearing, Autumn tries to swallow her pride. “Please, Viv. I want you. Take me.”

“Oh, sweetie, that isn’t enough. Be more specific.” To the side, Autumn notices Cadence and Lilac stripping each other and gets even more wet and slightly frustrated.

She summons all the authority she can, given her predicament, and firmly says, “Vivian, I order you to pleasure me and take me right now.” She does her best to squirm and yank at her bonds, but the rope holds fast and Vivian is heavy.

Unfortunately, Vivian is completely unfazed. She bends over, breasts a few inches from Autumn’s, and murmurs, “Do you really think you’re in any position to be giving orders here? I’m in charge here. Honestly, I’m your mistress, not the other way around. And I’m ordering you to describe exactly what you want.”

Once again, Autumn is turned on by Vivian’s words. Which only makes it even more annoying that she’s being denied. And to top it all off, the maids are being incredibly noisy next to her.

“Viv—” she pauses, but manages to completely throw pride out the window. “Mistress, I want you to force yourself on me and use my body like a pretty toy. I want to feel you inside me and know that I'm yours. I want you to have your way with me, and I want to enjoy every second of it.”

“That was so hot,” Cadence whispers, giggling, before the loud smacking sounds return and Lilac groans again.

Vivian pauses for an agonizingly long time, giving Autumn a look like she's considering her prey, before smiling again, to Autumn’s relief. “I suppose that will have to do. Now do you see how irritating your teasing is? How much easier it is to submit to me?” Her tone is still slightly playful, like she enjoyed the teasing a bit.

Cadence is on top of Lilac now, but they still find the time to stick their fingers in Autumn’s mouth. Autumn can clearly feel Cadence’s thrusts through their fingers as well as the bed. Lilac’s face screams complete bliss as Cadence sloppily kisses her and fucks her in her ass violently.

A slap across the cheek makes her yelp and bite down on the fingers in her mouth, and Cadence shivers in pleasure. “Attention on me, princess,” Vivian orders. She deftly slips the stained bikini bottom off Autumn, dropping it and the bikini top across her eyes. With sight taken away, Autumn’s even more aware of the sensation of Vivian caressing her nipples and leaving bites across her body. She’s distinctly aware of Lilac’s orgasm chasing Cadence’s. She can feel Lilac’s breath as she pants near her ear. Then she can’t hold her voice in anymore as Vivian begins sucking and biting her breast, and she moans softly. She can sense Vivian grinning in approval somehow, and is rewarded as Vivian slowly makes her way down her stomach.

The activity from the maids slows and stops after they both orgasm one last time. Soon, Cadence takes their fingers out of Autumn’s mouth and starts climbing over her, dragging their tip across her body and leaving a line of cum. From the other side, she can feel Lilac cuddle up against her, slowly and gently rutting against her hip.

Now Vivian reaches Autumn’s pussy, and gives one last kiss to her clit, before starting to gently lick. She continues to lick and kiss Autumn’s clit until Autumn is on the brink of an orgasm and then stops, leaving Autumn to melt into a pleading puddle, desperate for relief.

Cadence gently caresses Autumn’s chin, but it carries a certain weight of command. Guessing, Autumn opens her mouth and is rewarded with a coo of “Good girl” in her ear. Cadence moves again, removing the bikini still over Autumn’s eyes and replacing it with their ass. Then they slip their dick in Autumn’s mouth. The taste of both of her maid’s juices makes Autumn want to suck and lick more, which seems to please Cadence as they start making delicious moaning sounds. This pushes Autumn closer to orgasm again, but she can’t quite reach the sweet release she desires.

Soon, Vivian seems to decide that Autumn has suffered enough. Autumn can hear her open the bottle of lube and verbally expresses excitement as best she can with Cadence’s cock still in her mouth. Vivian finishes with the lube and easily lifts Autumn’s butt a few inches off the bed, bringing Autumn closer to her hips. She teasingly traces Autumn’s anus with her tip before slowly sliding in, then roughly grabs Autumn’s hips to shove all the way in. Autumn groans cutely at the feeling of being filled up by her bodyguard. Then Vivian starts to move, and Autumn clenches, speeding once again towards an orgasm. At the same time, Vivian immediately stuffs not one but two fingers in her pussy, causing her to nearly pass out from the sensation.

Autumn’s dimly aware of Vivian saying something, then senses Lilac moving down the bed towards Vivian. “Good girl,” Vivian whispers in between breaths. Lilac’s whimper in response sounds like heaven itself. Then even more angelic noises occur, and Autumn is left to her imagination as to what is happening there. Her best guess is Vivian toying with Lilac’s tits and probably more sloppy kissing to match.

Cadence lets out an almost primal groan as they finish straight into Autumn’s mouth. Still panting, they lean down to Autumn, forcing her mouth closed and getting her to swallow. A few moments later, Vivian also cums, pushing Autumn over the edge too. Then the room is mostly silent, everyone panting, before Vivian goes for another round.

Several hours later, all their energy spent, the four lie in a tangled pile on the bed. Vivian spoons Autumn as Cadence spoons Lilac, and the two little spoons cuddle.

“Thank you all, that was amazing,” Autumn says, shivering a little at the memory.

“I hope I didn’t overstep or anything,” Vivian mumbles into Autumn’s hair.

“No, it was perfect. Let’s do that more often.”

Cadence says, “But of course. We’re your maids after all, we’re here to service you. Though Lilac here does enjoy being serviced instead.” At this, Lilac blushes and squirms, eliciting giggles from the other three.

“Anything for you, my Autumn,” Vivian says in a sultry voice, caressing Autumn’s cheek and easily making her into just as a flustered mess as Lilac.

“I hate that work kinda gets in the way, but can we be girlfriends?” Autumn asks tentatively.

The maids nod, but Vivian, still using her extremely hot tone, says, “You’re going to have to beg for it like a good girl.”

Autumn pouts for a few seconds before Vivian starts laughing. “Of course, Autumn. I just can’t help but tease you. We can all date if that’s what you want.”

Autumn sighs contentedly before kissing each of her girlfriends sweetly and drifting off to sleep in their arms.

[mx-myth]

Thinking about how everyone wears different colours in mlc and how they're all connected...

Li xiangyi wears red. Yes it means happiness and joy and luck (ignoring the wedding symbolism for now) but it is also the colour of blood. He wears this bright, bold colour and still ends up dying on that ship.

Di feisheng's main colours are, for the sake of simplicity, black and red. Red for lxy but it's always darker and more muted on him - there's more blood symbolism for him (based purely on his reputation in the jianghu) but also more wedding symbolism compared to lxy. Black, tragically enough, corresponds with the element of water - it was a pitch-black night when he fought lxy, on a black sea, on a black ship - and that even fits with the western idea of black being for death. But he also wears bolder colours - we've seen him in purple and blue, for example - and this parallels fang duobing's outfits. Inherently a lot of the characters obsessed with the past (jiao liqiao and shan gudao, to name some) wear bold colours while characters who have left it behind/who are looking towards the future wear lighter colours (more to be said about this) and I think this is dfs turning away from the last and towards that future.

Brilliant example of this is qiao wanmian. She wears lighter colours and she gets over lxy and but I think it's important that one of her most iconic outfits is pink. Yes we all know how she and dfs are foils - this is yet another element of that. Pink is white and red: white, for death, for lxy; red, for happiness and weddings, also for lxy. Learning to live with her grief was definitely a long and lengthy process but it also helps her become her own person - she lets go of lxy and eventually learns that she has her own power, that she's strong in her own right, that she doesn't have to rely on men. She leaves xiao zijin and becomes the new leader of the new sigu sect and, while it's likely last her time to become a legend in the jianghu, she's certainly an inspiring figure.

Opposite of this is jiao liqiao. She's firmly still chasing after the past - her desire for dfs to love her back, her one-sided love rivalry with lxy. Her red is wedding red for dfs but it's also a giant fuck you to lxy - look, I'm better than you, I've got his attention and you don't. It's still true to an extent in the present, since she believes it's still dfs' attention that li lianhua wants (it is not). A-mian lets go of lxy (with some help for llh) but jiao liqiao never lets go of dfs, even when he outright rejects her. She's chasing her ideal of dfs, not who he actually is.

(I'm not going to talk about shan gudao. Same colours as dfs but the evilness is boosted to 100. He wears black and red as the classic Evil Colour Combo.)

Then we have the con man himself, li lianhua. In this new life of his he wears lighter colours - some blue, some green, but an overwhelming amount of it is white. As the show progresses he loses the blue and green. Yes he's looking at the future now but it's in the manner as someone staring down the barrel of a gun. There's nothing to say here because llh has it all planned out. He's already started dressing for his own funeral.

Lastly, the one and only fang duobing. He wears lighter colours too (in fact, he and a-mian are the only two I'd truly describe as wearing pastels). It's fascinating to note that there was no distinction between blue and green (his main colours) in old China. The symbolism of it is while it's the colour representing east (hahahahaha) it's also the colour of spring. I will never stop with the fdb/spring symbolism - he brings new life, he brings a new beginning, life will always go on if there's spring. (Spring is also the season when peach trees bloom, and isn't that something.) An interesting note is that he never wears any of li xiangyi's signature red. He really does leave lxy behind because he accepts that he's gone, because he loves li lianhua.

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1) Chapter Thirteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Thirteen: One Hell of a Prince

Summary: Sebastian, (Y/N), and Ciel find a strange prince and his khansama in London.

            “Have you still not apprehended the culprit, Abberline?!” cried Lord Randall as (Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel walked up to another crime scene of an Englishman being hung upside down naked in the street.

            “I-I am profoundly sorry, sir!” said Abberline.

            “Failing to catch Jack the Ripper, doing nothing but putting feathers in that brat’s cap…” Randall huffed.

            “That brat? Do you mean Ciel Phantomhive?” said Abberline as he looked over case files. “I cannot help but feel he bears some immense burden even though his is still but a child.”

            “A child?” remarked Ciel, leaning over to see Abberline’s files without announcing himself. “A series of incidents targeting those who have returned from India?”

            “Master Ciel!” exclaimed Abberline.

            “It seems there haven’t been any fatalities yet,” said Ciel. He stepped up and took another paper from Randall’s hands. “ ‘Crazy and lazy children, huh?’ ” He read from the statement of the perpetrator. “The culprit’s choice of words is very accurate. I also think this country would be considerably better off without the nouveau riche who cam back from India. At any rate, this mark is…”

            “They’re making fun of us and Her Majesty the Queen!” declared Randall. “The culprit has to be Indian.”

            “Ah, so that’s why I was called out,” said Ciel. “The vast majority of Indians who have been smuggled into the country are situated in the East End underworld society. Scotland Yard still has no idea of the exact number or their precise location, does it? There is no way we can sit idly by while the royal family is slandered. Let’s go, Sebastian, (Y/N).”

            The small group walked along the port to where many suspects might live. As they walked, a man bumped into Ciel.

            “Oh, so painful!” cried the man dramatically as more men surrounded them. “I think one of my ribs has fractured! Damn it, I might die!”

            “This is terrible,” cried another man. “You should get compensation to pay for a doctor!”

            “You better leave us everything you have,” said another voice in the crowd.

            “We seem to have been surrounded by rather loutish thugs,” remarked Sebastian.

            “So unfortunate. We should clear the way,” said (Y/N).

            “Take care of this quickly,” said Ciel.

            “Understood,” said Sebastian.

            “Hey!” The man grabbed Ciel by the collar. “All the Indians around here have a grudge against you English!”

            Which is fair, all things considered, thought (Y/N).

            The man raised a dagger, and Sebastian flicked him in the forehead. The simple motion threw the man to the ground.

            “Are you alright?” asked Sebastian with a smile.

            “Yes,” said Ciel.

            “You bastard,” growled the man. He raised his dagger again.

            “Wait,” said a new voice. Everyone paused as a two well-dressed men, one with purple hair and the other with white, stepped out onto the street. One held a really terrible drawing. “We are looking for someone. Have you seen this person?”

            “What do you want, you bastard?! Don’t interrupt me!” said the thug.

            “Are you having a duel or something?” said the new man brightly. He blinked as he saw (Y/N) and Sebastian beside Ciel. “Oh, he has a khansama with him. Are you one of the English nobles?”

            “And if I am?” said Ciel coldly.

            “In that case, I shall side with my countrymen in this quarrel,” said the young man. He turned to the man following him, the white-haired one, and said, “Agni.”

            “Yes?” said Agni.

            “Defeat them,” said the man.

            “Jo anja,” said Agni dutifully. He began to unwrap his bandaged right hand. “My right hand, blessed by the Gods, shall be wielded for my master.”

            Agni ran at them. Sebastian grabbed Ciel and jumped out of the way, and (Y/N) blocked Agni���s attack, their eyes narrowing as Agni’s inhuman strength, yet he was as human as anyone. Agni adjusted quickly, turning midair, kicking, flipping, and striking with blows faster than the human eye could be. (Y/N)’s reactions were catlike with precision, perfectly timed with his attacks.

            “I’ve hit your vital points several times now,” said Agni. “You should already be paralyzed. How can you still move?” (Y/N) smirked at his confusion.

            “Hey! We were just passing through here!” said Ciel. “It was those men who looked to rob me.”

            “What? You people, did you attack the little one over there for no reason?” asked the purple-haired noble. “That is not right! This time, my countrymen are at fault. Agni, take the little one’s side.”

            That’s how easy it is to change is mind? (Y/N) raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

            “Understood,” said Agni, and in a moment, all the men were lying in a heap on the ground. “It’s taken care of, Prince Soma.”

            “Good,” said Soma. “Well, then, I was in the middle of looking for someone, so I had better be going. See you.” He sighed and turned away with Agni. “English roads are too complicated. Let’s head left next.” And they just…walked away.

            What strange humans, thought (Y/N).

l

            “I’m completely drained,” muttered Ciel once they made it back to the townhouse. “The culprit might have been one of those we saw.”

            “Let us await Lord Randall’s report,” said Sebastian.

            “Young Master, welcome home,” greeted the rest of the servants.

            “If I keep getting called out to London for all these trivial incidents, there’ll be no end to it,” huffed Ciel.

            “Ah! Earl, you really did come!” Lau opened the front door, not caring for decorum or invitations as usual.

            “You’re always so unannounced!” said Ciel. “I keep telling you, if you’re going to visit, at least send a letter or something first.”

            “Have you said that?” Lau’s memory was terrible as always.

            “Since we have a guest now, I shall prepare some tea,” said Sebastian.

            “Fine,” said Ciel.

            “I’d prefer an English Chai blend,” said a familiar voice.

            “Fi—!” Ciel’s eyes widened as he saw Soma and Agni standing in the doorway.

            “Ah, I met them around the corner,” said Lau. “They said they wanted to meet the Earl.”

            “Why are you here?!” cried Ciel.

            “Why? We got acquainted earlier, did we not?” said Soma.

            “Acquainted?” questioned Ciel.

            “And, also, we saved you,” said Soma, walking confidently into the house.

            “Saved?! In what way?!” cried Ciel.

            “In India, hosting for those to whom you are indebted is common sense,” said Soma. “Is it the English way to throw such people out under the cold sky?” He walked upstairs casually to a bedroom.

            “Who are you anyway?!” demanded Ciel as he threw the door open after Soma and Agni.

            “Me?” Soma was lounging happily on the bed. “I am a prince.”

            “A prince?” asked (Y/N). The rest of the servants peeked into the room next to them.

            “This personage is the Bengal Kingdom’s prince, the twenty-sixth son of the King of Bengal, Prince Soma Asman Cadart,” said Agni.

            “I’ll be imposing on you for a while, Little One,” said Soma.

            Presumptuous. He’s going to be an irritating guest, thought (Y/N).

            “Wow! A prince!” exclaimed Finny.

            “A prince!” echoed Mey-Rin.

            “This is the first time I’ve seen a real prince in the flesh!” said Baldroy.

            “You may approach me,” said Soma. The servants crowded Soma with questions.

            “So, you brought your servants with you this time?” remarked Lau.

            “Yes. We have a guard dog to protect the manor while we’re away now,” said Sebastian.

            “Well, that must be a relief,” said Lau.

            “Sebastian, (Y/N), keep an eye on them,” said Ciel.

            “Understood,” said Sebastian.

            “Yes, sir,” said (Y/N).

l

            “Master Ciel, it is time to wake up.”

            Ciel’s eyes opened before jumping in shock. Agni and Soma were in his room.

            “Namaste, Master Ciel,” said Agni, smiling.

            “Why are you in my bedroom?!” cried Ciel.

            “We’re going out, Little One! Show us around!” said Soma brightly, picking up Ciel.

            “Why should I have to?!” demanded Ciel, trying to push out of Soma’s arms. “And I have a proper name! It’s Ciel, not Little One!”

            “Then, Ciel, I ask that you be our guide,” said Soma. “Come!”

            “Sorry to intrude,” said Sebastian, stepping into the room before Soma could run away with Ciel. “But the Young Master has studies and work duties to attend to today to today.”

            “You’ll have to accompany yourselves,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “No, we shall stay and wait for Ciel,” said Soma, smiling as if that was normal.

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched in annoyance.

l

            Sure enough, Soma and Agni were not far behind Ciel as he practiced violin. (Y/N) watched in amusement as Sebastian, in a tutor outfit (which made (Y/N)’s eyes unabashedly roam him), instructed him.

            Ciel played as best he could, and Sebastian listened for imperfections. The melody was interrupted, however, when the sound of prayers began. Agni and Soma had erected a statue of a Hindu goddess and were praying before it.

            “What on earth?” asked Ciel.

            “It seems they’re praying, but that’s a rather fantastic idol, isn’t it?” remarked Lau.

            “I’ve seen Cults. This is reasonable for hu-people,” said (Y/N).

            “All I can see is a statue of a woman carrying a head with a necklace of heads around her neck, dancing on the body of a man,” said Sebastian.

            “She is one of the Hindu gods we worship, the Goddess Kali,” said Agni.

            “Hindi gods, eh?” said Ciel.

            “Kali is the wife of Shiva and a goddess of power,” explained Agni. “In far distant times, a certain demon recklessly challenged her to a fight. Of course, the goddess Kali won. However, after that, unable to quell her destructive urges, she went on a rampage of death and destruction. In a bid to defend the Earth, her husband, the god Shiva, lay down at her feet. Having stepped on her husband with unclean feet, the goddess Kali returned to her senses, and the Earth once again became peaceful. Kali is the great goddess who defeated a demon after a mighty battle. As proof of that, she has the demon’s head in her grasp.”

            “So he says,” said Ciel, glancing back at (Y/N) and Sebastian.

            “To think there was a god as strong as that…” murmured Sebastian. “I will have to be careful if I ever go to India.”

            “I rather liked Egypt when I traveled there,” said (Y/N). They smirked. “I convinced some people to worship me.”

            “Well, then, our prayers are concluded, so let’s go out!” said Soma.

            “As I said, I’m busy!” said Ciel as Soma tried to drag him out again.

            “What are you even doing anyway?” sighed Soma.

            “You’re being distracting. Be quiet!” said Ciel. He picked up his fencing sword. He had practiced violin, now it was fencing. “If you want my attention so badly, then I’ll be your opponent!”

            Soma excitedly took the other sword. “So, if I win against you, you’ll come out with us?”

            “If you can,” said Ciel.

            “Good luck,” said Agni.

            “Well, then, begin!” said Sebastian.

            Agni is going to be beaten, thought (Y/N). He clearly has no idea what he’s doing.

            Sure enough, Agni swung the foil at Ciel’s leg, and it bent.

            “There’s no benefit to hitting the foot with a foil,” remarked Ciel sarcastically.

            Agni parried a few blows and huffed. “That’s unfair! I don’t know the rules!”

            “A match is a match,” said Ciel. “It’s your fault for not knowing.” Ciel had the upper hand and was about to finish the match with a blow to the stomach.

            “My Prince, look out!” Agni intervened. One hand held a cup to block the tip of the fencing foil, and the other struck Ciel’s pressure points, causing his arm to go limp. Agni’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d done. “M-Master Ciel. I’m so sorry. When I thought that His Highness was going to lose, my body moved of its own accord.”

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. Agni seemed to have some honor, even if Soma seemed immature and naïve. They would remain careful around the unnaturally talented human, but they had to admit, he wasn’t the most intolerable mortal they’d met.

            Sebastian noticed (Y/N) observing Agni, and his eyes narrowed.

            Soma laughed. “Agni, you protected me well. I give you my praise! Agni is my khansama and belongs to me. Therefore, the win was mine.”

            “Th-That’s ridiculous!” said Ciel.

            “Oh, dear, Sebastian, it seems like the Young Master’s honor must be defended,” said (Y/N). They smirked and tossed Ciel’s fallen foil to Sebastian.

            He caught it effortlessly. His eyes turned to Agni. Well, he had to prove a point now that the human had gotten (Y/N)’s attention. “Good grief,” he said. He masked himself easily with disdain at Ciel. “This happened because you teased an amateur who doesn’t know the rules.”

            “My fault?!” huffed Ciel.

            “Nevertheless, as a butler of the Phantomhives, now that my master has been injured, I cannot sit by and watch,” declared Sebastian. “All else aside, we’re ten minutes behind schedule.”

            “So, that’s what you’re really irritated about,” muttered Ciel.

            Not even close to correct, thought Sebastian.

            “I will allow a duel,” said Soma. “Agni, in the name of Kali, do not lose!” Agni bowed and took the fencing foil.

            “Sebastian, this is an order! Shut the brat up!” said Ciel.

            “Make this entertaining, you two,” said (Y/N) brightly.

            “Yes, of course,” said Sebastian, smirking.

            “Jo, ajna,” said Agni.

            “Begin,” said (Y/N).

            Agni and Sebastian were instantly in motion. With each thrust and parry, they danced around one another. Both were perfectly matched for the duel with inhuman grace as they fought. (Y/N) watched in fascination. Agni was most definitely human, but his skills were equal to those of Sebastian at the moment. It was truly fascinating to wat

            At the last moment, Agni and Sebastian both thrust their foil’s out, and the tips met. The foil’s bent. They snapped.

            “Oh, my. The foils snapped,” observed Sebastian.

            “The match is a draw,” said (Y/N), blinking in surprise.

            “Ciel’s khansama is pretty good,” said Soma. “Agni is the best fighter in my palace. This is the first time I’ve seen anyone fight on par with him.”

            Ciel walked to Sebastian and (Y/N) and whispered, “Just what is this man? He’s not one of those…” Reapers…

            “No, he’s definitely a human,” said Sebastian.

            “But with that power…He’s a likely suspect for the hangings,” said (Y/N).

            Sebastian nodded. “Indeed. Hanging people would have been an easy task for him…” Perfect. (Y/N) would be wary around him instead of interested in any way.

l

            It seemed that everyone else was having a positive reaction to Agni, as well. When Sebastian and (Y/N) stepped into the kitchen, they expected the usual chaos. Instead, Baldroy, Finny, and Mey-Rin were working well beside Agni.

            “Thanks to everyone’s hard work, it looks like the food will be delicious,” said Agni.

            “This can’t be real,” said (Y/N).

            “Indeed, to have this lot helping you…” Sebastian didn’t have to elaborate.

            “Everyone is born with their own talent,” said Agni. “They have a duty and path laid out for them by the gods. We children of the gods abide by that and do what we can.”

            “You are a most well-rounded individual, aren’t you, Mr. Agni?” said Sebastian.

            “Not at all. Until I met the prince, I was a hopeless fool,” admitted Agni. “I will be forever in his debt. I injured those around me, strayed from the gods, and accumulated many sins. Finally, my day of judgement came. Without leaving any attachment in this world, I would…have died. But Prince Soma gave me a new life. To me, who had not even believed in the gods, who had thrown everything away…A god appeared! Indeed, that day, I saw the holy light of God within the prince.”

        ��   (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. An interesting mortal.

            “The prince is both my king and my god,” said Agni. “Therefore, I will use this new life to protect the one who gave it to me and grant as many of his wishes as I can.”

            “Interesting,” said (Y/N), cocking their head. “You truly are devoted to him.” They had no loyalty to anyone in that. Well, almost anyone, but as a demon, they had to be ready to let go of attachments at any moment.

            “Yes,” said Agni. He brightened for a moment. “Ah, and I wanted to say something to you, (Y/N).”

            “Yes?” said (Y/N).

            Agni bowed. “I apologize for fighting you when we first met. Had Prince Soma and I known our countrymen were at fault, I would not have attacked.”

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. They put on a smile. “I am perfectly capable of defending myself against you, and you were following your prince’s orders as a servant should.”

            Sebastian’s respect for Agni’s devotion to his master and pure humanity was quickly losing to his desire to throw the man out of the house.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

[deadairradioshow]

going to be mean and blunt about the robins rq

dick: the First one. you can dress it up as whatever as him being a minority him being a marysue wunderkind him having eldest daughter syndrome whatever whatever idc his value is inherent in being the first one. he’s my favorite but he’s the first and that’s what he brings to the table. literally every part of his character is just the idea of the The First One amplified. they could write him out of the dc story they could ! but it’s not his flexibility as a person/character that keeps him relevant it’s because he sets the tone always. everyone else gets to be different because he set the standard first and it’s BECAUSE he came first that he’s written like this.

jason: the Dead one. stephanie’s dead too, you say. god i wish DC would acknowledge that, i reply. death arcs are sexy and cool and put everyone else in the wrong because dying and coming back makes you the ultimate object of pity. unfortunately dc found jason so boring that somehow even with a death arc as his only personality trait his run was so boring without other characters they had to shut him down at 50 issues

tim: the Boring one. this post was actually motivated by seeing a post that tried to make tim interesting and i would just like to say: stop. there is nothing fundamentally unique or likable about him. name one thing tim has going for him i’m begging you…smarts? dick is smarter*. skills? damian’s been training since birth**. strength? jason is 6 2”. humor? stephanie literally slapped batman. initiative? duke started a robin collective WITHOUT walking up to a dude and saying “hey remember when ur parents died ! sucked for me tbh” PLEASE. “oh but he’s the relatable one :(((!” i hate to break it to you but if you relate to tim you’re probably just as boring and no one’s told you yet. consider this your wakeup call. now try to imagine a world without him. you can’t because DC won’t stop putting him in things. it’s killing me

stephanie: the Girl one. white and blonde and the target of every horrific Women As A Cautionary Tale storyline in the batman universe ever. because she already has MAJOR diversity points for being female in the robin costume, the writers and the fandom decided to ransack her character for things to beef up tim’s disgustingly sparse resume with. this has left behind a Girl Best Friend Doll in purple with a drawstring in her back to let her say unfunny one-liners and the words “We Can Do It!” © Rosie the Riveter

Damian: the Exotic one. god forbid we have one story that does not involve his Evil Heritage and Evil Family. where are he talia and ras from again? the Mystical Orient, did you say? come again? oh, you mean the [unspecified landmass] of the Savages who Must Be Converted To The American Values of Apple Pie and Bravery? everything about damian has to tie back to his exoticism, his temperament his weaponry his fucking dialogue (and like the vernacular (separate story) that he’s given that conflates east + antiquation -> to imply backwardness) of it establishes him as the Other and makes it the conflict all the time. you don’t see tim’s white people manners learned from his mother being an issue to overcome do you

Duke: the New one. technically not even robin to begin with, thank GOD because while it would be sweet to see a younger duke maybe have been a robin it would have come at the expense of his family, AND ON THAT NOTE in fanon it constantly does??? the guy is Batfamily but he has his own cast (and that’s how you create a HeroProtagonist in the dcverse) and he was established as an outside individual a la Kate or Dick (90s). try and respect that

there’s no point to this btw. but i said what i said

*babs is not mentioned because she’s not a robin

**cass, again, not mentioned because she’s not a robin

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 13 - post-war indoors fashion

Back on the day dresses, house dresses, tea gowns, whatever they may be called! And, obviously, plenty of nice blouses and skirts.

Heh, I shouldn’t have put so many of Violet’s day dresses into the outside category; now I only have two left. But they are some of the few I haven’t seen her wear a hat with, so… Here, have a purple silk dress with a sleeveless black robe over it. She keeps this into season 3, and interestingly, she’s starting to give up on the upper arm puff that always inclined me to read her dresses as late Victorian.

See here, another holdover to the next season, an ice blue velvet robe (although admittedly it does look quite grey in several shots) with fitted sleeves. I’m of course a sucker for the fabric, but also for the pearls she usually combines with this. You can still scare me off with high lace collars though. Violet, how is this not scratchy as fuck?

--------------

With this season, we get a look at a blouse as a separate piece instead of an underlayer to a dress more often, so check out Isobel here. Someone put quite some time into the whitework there, birds and flowers, it would seem.

The second season is also when Isobel starts claiming red as one of her colors, for example with this neat house dress. It’s kept quite simple, but that only serves to underline the wild print of the collar. Cute, I like it.

Speaking of red, of course it can also be paired with stripes. It’s a nice blouse, don’t get me wrong, and I’m starting to be really intrigued by the way the front is usually ruffled a bit in the shoulder seam, but my brain associates the way she’s knotting her scarf in the first picture with our old East German equivalent of scouts (Jungpioniere, if you’re curious), so I find that funny.

I cannot tell for certain the fabric of this one, but I think it’s silk satin? Anyway, it’s very silvery and shimmery. And again, this ruffling in the shoulders. It has a nice effect on the front, tossing up folds that play with the light on the material.

Last but not least, another of those frustrating dresses that I have no idea what color it is. Is it grey? Dark blue? Who knows?? It definitely has cuffs, a buttoned front, and a white collar, I can tell you that much. This dress kinda says business; Isobel wears it a lot for her activism.

--------------

Two blouses for Cora this season which are not dramatically different; Cora is also quite set in her style before the 1920s throw some of that over. The first one has some lovely pastel flower embroidery on the shoulders, the second has a few pin tucks to both sides, but they look to be of a similar material and they do what the styles of the upcoming seasons will rob Cora of – gather in around her waist to make her look even more slender than she is anyway. Edwardian illusions, man.

Speaking of Edwardian, one of Cora’s last “old-fashioned” dresses, as in, a layered Edwardian dress with a ruffled chest area. This is one of the dresses that feel vaguely Titanic to me. It even looks a little old if I may say so; the velvet seems kind of worn here and there in the back. Is this an original? Or maybe it’s the light. First picture shows a couple of little flower embroideries on her sleeve cuffs, second that the silk sash around the waist doesn’t quite match the color of the dress itself which, for once, looks a little detrimental to me. They should have either gone with something of the exact same fabric or with something entirely contrasting, e. g. a small metal belt.

Is it any news that I’m weak for pinstripes? Cora looks lovely in this black silk dress. It’s not quite embracing post-war fashion yet, but it is a great deal more streamlined than the red velvet dress, tucking in at the waist not with gathers, but with neat pleats. It’s also keeping a lot more tidy with the decorations; the only points not made out of the same fabric are the lace collar and the silver buckle.

Printed silk blouses – I have to admit that I find these much more interesting to look at than the white ones. Also, this skirt with the silver buckle, a repeater for a good reason. Yeah, I know Elizabeth McGovern has an enviable waistline. No need to rub it in. The orange blouse lets the wild pattern do its thing, the silver-grey one allows itself some additional structure with the ruffled shoulder fronts and, if you look closely, a double-breasted closure.

For another lovely dress we see on Cora several times into the next season, we go with black chiffon and large golden flowers. Also familiar elements by now: the wrap top and the style of collar. It’s gotten to the point where I think I will miss these collars when the 1920s costumes stomp them into dust.

See what I mean? You turn your back for a moment, and suddenly dresses don’t even have collars anymore, just necklines, and asymmetrical ones at that. That’s pretty much the only point of interest; this dress appears mostly as a black blob. The depth of the black makes me think it could be velvet, so more favorable light might make it look quite spectacular fabric-wise… and since this is post-war style, it better brag with its fabric, because we ain’t doing shapes anymore.

So let’s collectively bid Cora’s waistline farewell as she parades it around in a tea gown of silver silk satin. (Or not a tea gown; I told you I cannot identify them for sure.) Regardless of the correct term, this is a lovely dress. There’s all this tiny-toothed lace around the collar and cuffs, and a matching buckle on the waistband, and a gathered waist, and everything else is just the fabric being wavy and shimmering. Because silk, you guys. She can afford it.

--------------

Rosamund shows up in a glorious blouse that seems to consist predominantly of lace. Okay, the sleeves look a tad more solid, but someone thought they were lacking ten thousand pin tucks, so here we go. They always throw me for a loop when they take off the coat but keep on their hat. Why don’t they take their hats off when they’re coming for tea? On another occasion, she throws this yellow silk house robe with black velvet trim over her blouse, and anyone who can pull this off without looking like a bee earns my respect.

And for Christmas, she wears a Little Black Dress. Well, not so little yet – we’re still writing 1919. But I think the little chiffon jacket with the metal beading she wears over it might be misleading when, in fact, the dress is a very simple number that only barely still outlines the hip and doesn’t even have any sleeves at all. Keep up, Coco Chanel.

[alexsgrimoire]

Beltane & May New Moon Ritual Script - 2024

Here's the script I put together for my coven's combined Beltane and New Moon ritual that I'm leading this weekend! There were some scheduling issues with the UU Church we meet at and this date was the only one that really worked, so we decided to combine both into one since they're both close to the date and have similar correspondences! If you're using the script, please tag me in it!

DO NOT INTERACT: TE/RFS, TE/HMS, SW/ERFS, TRAN/SMEDS, TRUS/CUM, TRANSPHOBIC, HOMOPHOBIC, EXCLUSIONISTS, CONSERVATIVE, NAZI, TRADWIVES, ANTI-BLM, ANTI-ASIAN, XENOPHOBIC, ABLEIST, ANTI-POP CULTURE PAGANISM

Meditation

Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Feel the air come in through your nose and out through your mouth. Take a moment to center yourself.

It’s a warm spring afternoon. The sky is cloudless as the Sun shines above, illuminating the prairie you stand in. The earth feels warm and tender underneath your bare feet. Wiggle your toes in the grass and feel the wildflowers in various colors tickle your toes and ankles. The fresh breeze smells of roses and honeysuckle, and birds chirp in nearby shrubs.

You spot a circle of people partaking in a dance before you. Colorful dresses and tunics flow in the wind, and flower crowns of daisies and daffodils sit on their heads. They cheer and sing, their voices floating on the wind. As you approach, those nearest you smile kindly and open their arms to allow you to join in. You enter and hold their hands, quickly feeling joy and warmth. You turn with them, the energy transferring from hand to hand.

Your hands release at the height of the energy, and you each dance independently. You use all the power you gathered to dance. Shaking your arms and legs, headbanging, spinning around, whatever brings you the most joy. You dance and dance until you’re worn out, then lie down in the grass and stare at the sky.

You regain your breath, breathing in and out deeply. As the Sun begins to set, the sky has turned from bright blue to shades of pink, purple, and orange. The Sun God starts to depart, taking the youthful energy of the day with Him. The Moon Goddess now enters, bringing the serenity of the night sky and stars. The people you danced with under the Sun lie on the ground with you, softly humming a hymn to welcome Her presence.

The Moon in Her New phase doesn’t shine as brightly as She does during her Full phase. Instead, she offers just a slice of light, letting the constellations and other celestial bodies take their time in the spotlight. Despite Her hidden figure, you can still feel Her energy, a soft feeling of abundance, protection, and love.

As you lie in the grass, think about what you wish to achieve in the coming weeks. What will be the best way to reach them, and what reward will lie in the end? The Moon will grant your wish as long as you put in the effort to achieve it. Don’t forget that you have the power to succeed, and She offers her assistance.

You gently close your eyes as you lie in the grass after setting your intentions. It is time for rest and recovery after a long day with the God and Goddess. You are safe from all danger, protected by those Above and Below. You drift off into a reverie, awaiting what the next day brings.

As we end this meditation, center yourself and take another deep breath. Feel your feet ground you as you return to this plane. Once you are ready, slowly open your eyes.

Chant & Calling the Quarters

We’ll sing “We Are a Circle” now. Feel free to stand, but don’t feel pressured to.

ALL: We are a circle within a circle, with no beginning and never-ending. (x3)

Form a circle deosil around the group with a wand (x1) to the pace of the chant.

Now, to call the quarters.

East/Air Quarter Caller: Guardians of the East, we call upon you to watch over the rights of our Kindred. Powers of knowledge and wisdom, guided by Air, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight within this circle. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in Perfect Love and Perfect Trust. Hail and welcome!

Light the yellow candle.

ALL: Hail and welcome.

South/Fire Quarter Caller: Guardians of the South, we call upon you to watch over the rights of our Kindred. Powers of energy and will, guided by Fire, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight within this circle. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in Perfect Love and Perfect Trust. Hail and welcome!

Light the red candle.

ALL: Hail and welcome.

West/Water Quarter Caller: Guardians of the West, we call upon you to watch over the rights of our Kindred. Powers of passion and emotion, guided by Water, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight within this circle. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in Perfect Love and Perfect Trust. Hail and welcome!

Light the blue candle.

ALL: Hail and welcome.

North/Earth Quarter Caller: Guardians of the North, we call upon you to watch over the rights of our Kindred. Powers of endurance and strength, guided by Earth, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight within this circle. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in Perfect Love and Perfect Trust. Hail and welcome!

Light the green candle.

ALL: Hail and welcome.

Center/Spirit Quarter Caller: Guardians of Above and Below, we call upon you to watch over the rights of our Kindred. Powers of grounding and balance, guided by Spirit, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight within this circle. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in Perfect Love and Perfect Trust. Hail and welcome!

Light the white candle.

ALL: Hail and welcome.

The Story of Beltane & the May New Moon

Beltane, also known as May Day, Walpurgis Night, and Floralia, marks the halfway point between the Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice. The name and festival Beltane are Gaelic in origin, which comes from the words “Bel,” meaning “bright,” and “Tene,” meaning fire, along with the God Belenus, who represents Fire. Beltane is considered the oldest holiday in Gaelic tradition, dating back to at least the 10th century. 

In modern Pagan practices, Beltane represents the Sacred Union between the Mother Goddess and Horned God, conceiving the Harvest Child. The phallic maypole and yonic wreath of flowers and ribbons represent their Rite. As such, Beltane has become a time for fertility and sexuality, and it’s also associated with creativity and love. Bonfires represent fertility, protection, and the longer days of summer, and crops, beauty, and creativity continue to grow.

Beltane is also associated with fairies of Gaelic lore, specifically the aos sí. The veil is thinnest at this time, much like at Samhain, allowing them to pass through. The aos sí were appeased with offerings of food and drink to prevent their troublesome natures and in hopes that they would grant wishes.

Along with Beltane, we also celebrate the New Moon of May tonight. The New Moon is a time for setting intentions, manifestations, and new beginnings. It’s the beginning of the lunar cycle, where the moon is absent from the sky, and the stars shine brighter. The Moon’s energy is at one of Her highest, and it’s the perfect time for spellwork.

The May New Moon is in Taurus, representing creativity, sensuality, and abundance. These values align perfectly with Beltane, creating the perfect storm for intentions in these realms. It’s time to focus on achieving long-lasting results, especially those concerning money. However, the Earth element of Taurus reminds us to stay grounded and practical.

With Beltane and the Taurus New Moon coinciding near each other, the energy is high, promoting growth both in nature and within you. Take this time to focus on the pleasures in life and the abundance around you.

Cone of Power

Now, for the Cone of Power. Stand if you’re able, with hands linked. Left hand under, right hand over. As we chant, visualize the energy swirling around us and channeling into the sky.

ALL: Goddess and God

Moon and Sun

We link hands

And become One

Repeat louder & faster until the energy is built, then call release.

The Maypole Dance

((AUTHOR'S NOTE: I specifically wrote this section to accompany the song "Bard Dance" from the Baldur's Gate 3 soundtrack and this dance pattern. You do not have to use this same source material, and I encourage you to give the ritual your own spin! I'm simply copying/pasting exactly how my script is written.))

As I mentioned earlier, dancing around the Maypole is a Beltane tradition that dates back to before the Middle Ages in Europe, and we’ll be bringing that tradition to life today! Everyone grab a ribbon from the Maypole, and I’ll get my metronome set up.

Set the metronome app for 112 BPM and wait until everyone has a ribbon.

We’re going to split into two groups, 1 and 2.

Count out groups 1 and 2 (every other person) and start the metronome.

This is the tempo we’ll be using for the dance, in counts of four: four beats per measure and four measures for each dance phase. I’ll count it out like this as we dance.

Count "1 2 3 4 / 2 2 3 4 / 3 2 3 4 / 4 2 3 4" along to the tempo.

For the dancing, group 1 will walk to the pole for two measures and then walk back out for two measures.

Give an example with measure counting.

Group 2 will now do the same.

Give an example with measure counting.

Then, we turn clockwise for four measures and counterclockwise for four. And then the dance repeats! Do we want to try it without music and then start with the music?

(IF TRYING WITHOUT MUSIC FIRST: Walk the group through one cycle of the dance, then play Bard Dance on Spotify for the full run time. Count out the measures during the dance.)

(IF STARTING WITH MUSIC: Set Bard Dance on Spotify and play/dance for the full run time. Count out the measures during the dance.)

Simple Feast

Take a moment to ground yourself after dancing, and take the time to think about how you engaged with your fellow dancers. Now is also a perfect time for refreshments, our cakes and ale! We have unleaded, ________________ provided by ________________, and leaded, ________________  provided by ________________. We also have ________________ for cakes, provided by ________________.

Pass around wafers, cups, and drinks.

May you never hunger.

ALL: May you never hunger.

May you never thirst.

ALL: May you never thirst.

Intentions & Bonfire

As this is the New Moon, we’ll set intentions, but this time on ribbons for a Beltane twist! If anyone would like a copy, I have a guide to ribbon colors and their meanings. Cut yourself a ribbon that connects to your intention for the coming weeks. ((AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ribbon color guide can be found here!))

Allow time for people to get/cut ribbons and grab pens.

Feel the ribbon in your hands. Think of what the color means to you and your goals for this lunar cycle phase. Imagine the ribbon tightly wound around a physical representation of your intention, a present of joy and success ready to be opened. When you're ready, write your intention on the ribbon and hold onto it for now.

Light the bonfire.

Bonfires are another Beltane tradition used as a method of protection and purification. Historically, Gaelic people walked livestock between two bonfires and sprinkled ashes over crops. The Fire element is also associated with new beginnings and transformation, which makes it the perfect method to activate intentions! As you toss your ribbon into the fire, visualize its Sacred power bringing your intention to life!

Let everyone toss ribbons into the bonfire.

Dismissing the Quarters & Farewell

Now, to wrap up and thank the quarters.

North/Earth Quarter Caller: Guardians of the North, powers of endurance and strength, guided by Earth, we thank you for watching over the rights of our Kindred. May you be forever blessed. Hail and farewell!

Extinguish the green candle.

ALL: Hail and farewell.

West/Water Quarter Caller: Guardians of the West, powers of passion and emotion, guided by Water, we thank you for watching over the rights of our Kindred. May you be forever blessed. Hail and farewell!

Extinguish the blue candle.

ALL: Hail and farewell.

South/Fire Quarter Caller: Guardians of the South, powers of energy and will, guided by Fire, we thank you for watching over the rights of our Kindred. May you be forever blessed. Hail and farewell!

Extinguish the red candle.

ALL: Hail and farewell.

East/Air Quarter Caller: Guardians of the East, powers of knowledge and wisdom, guided by Air, we thank you for watching over the rights of our Kindred. May you be forever blessed. Hail and farewell!

Extinguish the yellow candle.

ALL: Hail and farewell.

Center/Spirit Quarter Caller: Guardians of Above and Below, powers of grounding and balance, guided by Spirit, we thank you for watching over the rights of our Kindred. May you be forever blessed. Hail and farewell!

Extinguish the white candle.

ALL: Hail and farewell.

The Circle is open, yet the Circle remains as its magical power is drawn back into us. 

ALL: Merry meet, and Merry part and Merry meet again! So mote it be.

Bibliography

Amanda. Beltane. Pinterest, https://www.pinterest.com/pin/10696117858758902/. Accessed 4 May 2024.

Amanda. “New Moon Rituals for 2024: Anticipate New Spiritual Beginnings.” Thepeculiarbrunette.Com, 21 Mar. 2024, www.thepeculiarbrunette.com/new-moon/.

Arina. Ribbon Colors to Make Wishes at Beltane. 30 Apr. 2021. Tumblr, https://swm-grimoire.tumblr.com/post/649920725689466880/beltane-blessings-to-you-all-and-happy-midspring. Accessed 4 May 2024.

“Bard Dance.” Spotify, Larian Studios, https://open.spotify.com/track/4RyPvJk0n6DLCptEoe6PE7?si=164e9e8f768d41cf. Accessed 4 May 2024.

Beltane Correspondences. Pinterest, https://www.pinterest.com/pin/31666003614457079/. Accessed 4 May 2024.

Beltane. 26 Apr. 2024. Instagram, https://www.instagram.com/p/C6PA1mtrXD8/. Accessed 4 May 2024.

Beltane. Pinterest, https://www.pinterest.com/pin/AVkyPjJ1KAjMZ2BVc5oVO1WzroMTbntG-SAaAezJAzJLiPyQxGAUb-E/. Accessed 4 May 2024.

“Beltane.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., www.britannica.com/topic/Beltane. Accessed 4 May 2024.

“Beltane.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 4 May 2024, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beltane.

“Best Crystals for New Moon.” Village Rock Shop, www.villagerockshop.com/blog/crystals-for-new-moon/. Accessed 4 May 2024.

Cass. “May 2024 Witch Guide.” Tumblr, 29 Apr. 2024, greenwitchcrafts.tumblr.com/post/749095783179206656/may-flower-moon.

Cunningfolk, Alexis J. “Grounded Strength : The New Moon in Taurus - Worts + Cunning Apothecary: Intersectional Herbalism + Magickal Arts.” Worts + Cunning Apothecary | Intersectional Herbalism + Magickal Arts, Worts + Cunning Apothecary | Intersectional Herbalism + Magickal Arts, 24 May 2017, www.wortsandcunning.com/blog/grounded-strength-the-new-moon-in-taurus.

“A Detailed History of Beltane.” Beltane Fire Society, 25 Mar. 2015, beltane.org/a-detailed-history-of-beltane/.

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[iamfina5]

The Kinslayer Couple

Summary: The ground falls out from beneath Valaena Velaryon’s feet within the span of a week. The week begins with the death of her grandsire, making her mother queen and her Princess of Dragonstone. It ends with the death of her brother Lucerys at the hands of her husband, Aemond Targaryen. From there, Valaena embarks on a perilous journey to win a war against her own kin, forced to discern who are friends and who are foes on both sides of the conflict.

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Fall of Dragonstone

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135 A.C.

At dawn, the moon turns the sky red, bathing the lands of white and gray in blood. Three amethyst eyes look out across the hills as a storm gathers. Wind and lightning lash at the landscape, scourging the sand to reveal great, cavernous paths. As night settles over the land, one traveler takes to the trail set out for him, whilst the other forges ahead in the sky.

Across the sea, four lilac eyes close forever. Valaena towers over two of them, having gouged them out herself. On Dragonstone’s shore, two sets of legs lie still as she stands on their toes. When the sky clears, the tide swallows one of them, and the other burns.

Valaena blinks up at the ceiling as her mind clears. Another night has past, leaving with it another strange dream. For weeks, she has dreamt of purple eyes and stormy, bloody skies. She has dreamt of Essos, with its sandy plains and rolling hills, recognizing it despite having never ventured so far east. She thinks she dreams of Aemond sometimes, but she can never recall seeing him once she wakes. On some nights, she is sure she dreams of a girl with three dragons. The girl looks much like a dragon herself, with moon-white hair and violet eyes. The girl reminds Valaena of a storm, much like the one that brought Aenar to her.

This past night is strange for the dream it brought her. Usually, she wakes as soon as the girl sets out across the sky, perched on the back of a black dragon. This night, her dream concluded in Westeros, rather than Essos. Distinctly, she recalls a vision of Dragonstone, and it pulls at her like the tide. It is nearing a moon now since she left the isle, and she longs to make her return.

Sequestered in Winterfell, Valaena thinks she should be angry. She waits for resentment to build within her for her mother, her step-father, her eldest brother, her new husband, but any piece of it that does soon wilts for the winter. All she feels is a bleak melancholy, set deep in her bones.

That, and the early stirrings of the babe within her belly. The child speaks to her in light whispers of touch, too young yet to respond to her own caresses. Some days, this connection is all that preserves her, while on others, it drives her further into despair. The child is her last link to Aemond, alongside its brother, and she deplores that it will never meet him.

Languishing in bed, Valaena bemoans her life as it is now. For the first time in her existence, she feels directionless, unsure of how to conduct herself. So much as she might have once claimed that she did not belong to Aemond, she sees this now for a falsehood. They married too young for her to be wholly her own, and the same was true of him. Thrown together, they were cast in the same mold, taking on each other’s mannerisms and tastes. Without him, she wonders which thoughts and impulses are purely her own, and which to follow.

In the absence of surety, she has settled on doing only as others expect of her. Always, she has lived at the mercy of others—her grandsires, Otto, Alicent, her mother. It has long chafed at her, but no longer does she see cause to fight against it. It is simpler to be the sort of princess for whom none worry, one that does as she is told and naught else.

After the Sun has climbed over the horizon, Valaena goes through the motions of readying herself for another day in Winterfell. When Lily helps her dress, she smiles at all the appropriate junctures of the maidservant’s stories. When Lily asks whether she prefers black or red for her gown, she answers red. When Baela summons her for breakfast, she goes, even as her bed calls for her return.

Daeron accompanies her to the Guest House, taking the seat beside her when they reach the dining room Baela has reserved for them. When Baela arrives, she does so in a huff, plopping down opposite to Valaena.

With a contrived cheerfulness, Valaena says, “Good morrow.” Looking down at her plate, she laments the absence of fish there. Ever since she arrived, she has been craving anchovies. Unfortunately, Cregan tells her that all of the fishing spots north of White Harbor have dried up for the winter.

Grumpily, Baela spoons some sugar into her tea and then lets the utensil fall with a clunk. “You shall never believe what Jace did last night.”

Happy to focus on someone else’s worries, Valaena beckons for her to spill her—or rather, Jacaerys’s—guts. Without further ado, Baela divulges, “He asked me to marry him before the heart tree.”

Her brow raising, Valaena sips from her own, unsweetened tea. “Did he?”

“Yes,” confirms Baela, manifestly irate.

“And did you,” Valaena asks.

Baela throws out her arms. “No!” Slumping back in her seat, she blusters, “Only now, he accedes to marry me!”

Before Valaena can throw some water on Baela’s flames, Daeron fans them. “Always, he has had such gall.”

Baela purses her lips, supposing, “He has, hasn’t he?”

Unfond of the turn the conversation has taken, Valaena interjects, “Daeron, you are not being helpful.” 

Frowning, he responds, “Who sayeth I mean to be helpful?”

“You only defend him because he is your favorite,” Baela accuses her. Jumping on the charge, Daeron nods vigorously at her.

Unconsciously, Valaena glimpses to the left, as she has done amid a thousand other conversations to share a glance or take a cue. Her gaze drops to the floor when she sees that there is no longer anyone there to answer her stare.

Halfheartedly, she prolongs the spat. “Jace is not my favorite.” 

“Yes, he is,” Baela and Daeron say in unison.

Singly, Baela crosses her arms and queries, “Why else would you have your special lunches with him every day?”

Valaena sighs. “Because he feels left out—”

Baela’s hand smacks the table, halting Valaena’s tongue. “Because there is an embargo, to which you agreed.” 

“I did,” acknowledges Valaena, “but it’s gone on too long. He knows he’s done wrong. He apologized—” 

“So, all is forgiven,” Baela remonstrates, nearly at her wit’s end.

Receding somewhat, Valaena makes clear, “I did not say you need forgive him, but bear in mind, you still need marry him.”

Her wit’s end met, Baela switches tack. “What if Aemond had kissed another, hmm? Would all have been forgiven?”

Valaena feels as her face collapses into a glower, displeased is she to have her late husband invoked. Beside her, Daeron shifts uncomfortably. “If Aemond had done such a thing, he would have done so as my husband, not my betrothed, and even so, I would not have forbidden his sister from dining with him.” 

Valaena imagines steam coming from Baela’s nostrils as she blows out an angry breath, glaring daggers at Valaena all the while.

With a sigh, Valaena switches tack herself. “Baela, of course, you are right in this—”

Taking up her spoon once more, Baela declares, “Thank you. Let that be all that is said.” 

Simultaneously satisfied and displeased by this outcome, Valaena relents and finishes her meal.

For the remainder of the morning, Valaena meanders about the castle, listless. The castellan manages to corner her an hour into her stroll. He confers with her on Winterfell’s food stock and the myriad of guests’ needs—all those things which concern the lady of the house. As noon approaches, she is enlivened by the prospect of spending time with her son. At this time of day, she can wake him from his nap and play with him for an hour or so before he need eat.

In the nursery, she finds Aenar awake already, sat on the floor with Rickon running circles around him. Each boy holds a small, wooden sword, Aenar’s clenched in his little fist. He waves the toy sporadically, and, whenever he does, Rickon dashes forward to tap it with his own.

Spying her in the doorway, Aenar drops his weapon and crawls across the floor to her. Put out by his playmate’s inattention, Rickon picks up Aenar’s sword and reproves, “’Enar, don’ put your sword down. In a real battle—” Spying Valaena, too, he gasps, drops both swords, and bypasses Aenar as he rushes toward her. 

“Hello, Mother!” Valaena emits a surprised grunt as Rickon embraces her legs, his hands high on her thighs. “Me an’ ’Enar are playing!”

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[geothe-isnazeya]

Travels of Vigrid

Chapter 3: the council hall

Summary: She looked to be in her early twenties, with a fair and smooth complexion, silver eyes round and large, and thick eyelashes fluttering as she squinted at people. Her high nose bridge and full lips, with twin braids wrapped around, covering her ears, reminded me of a sheep with fluffy wool. The golden circlet across her forehead signaled her status. She had an air of pride and sanctity that made me forget all the rehearsed words.

CW:I just want to keep trying different styles. I realized that Vigrid is actually located in France on the map, so I wrote about some accurate or fictional French history. In this chapter, you can see that the religions are quite mixed. I haven't established a unified doctrine or a closed loop for Umbra yet, and I mean no offense at all.Just letting you know, the whole series is getting updated bit by bit on AO3

We got to the square, and the ground was covered in these square, shiny white tiles. Right in the middle, there's a fountain. The council hall is this majestic, square building with a white body and a roof made of brass tiles.

It's got four floors. The first floor is held up by these colonnades, and you can't really see inside through the dark purple, arched glass doors. The second and third floors have these classic French-style, round-arch windows. The fourth floor kind of sticks out, it's got this little square dome with stained glass that's all painted up. That pattern looks like the yin-yang symbol.

This time, I saw it really clearly. There's a big circle with three smaller circles touching each other horizontally inside. The design is split into black and white, filling each other out. The fish-like curve in the middle looks like an eye, and the script on top flutters like a woman's eyelashes... I was just staring, mesmerized.

"Snap out of it, Austrian girl." I felt a pat on my shoulder, which made me jump a bit.

So, Ophélie saw me stop and came over to make sure. Her red hair was peeking out from under her headscarf. "You really are a wandering scholar, come on, the Virgins has spotted us already."

Following her silvery gaze, I saw there were two more ladies behind the fountain. The vibe of our group got tense real quick. The sentries hustled us into line, marching us over to them with big steps, and then they all saluted with their elbows crossed over their chests. I glanced over, and on the table next to them were incense burners, fire pits, water containers, and a bunch of plants, plus some ritual stuff that was all new to me.

The priestesses were dressed in long black robes, and they were really skinny. Their faces weren't covered, but they wore veils that draped over their heads. The headscarves curved like half-moons pressed against their foreheads, and under the misty veils, they had eyes that sparkled like galaxies, as if they were looking right through me and Elius to something else.

That symbol must has been painted to represent their eyes.

"The purification ritual is ready. To seek the favor of the Demon Lords, stranger, tell me your true name," her voice was ethereal and clear, like dewdrops in the morning mist.

Elius coughed repeatedly, and I was noncommittal about his hints. Revealing my full name means exposing a vulnerability in the realms of magic and the extraordinary; it's said that many spells require the precise pronunciation of the person's name to be cursed. But these women are closely linked to the Moon Lord—why would they harm a simple pilgrim like me? I also have no reason to harm Vigrid.

"Nadia, Nadia Krämer," I responded.

The priestess nodded, then used a dish to scoop up some spring water and dampened a bunch of leaves. She went through the directions—north, west, south, and east—and made her plea to the spirits of each: "May the spirits of the blaze, the gale, the chasm, and the flood grant Nadia Krämer, daughter of a Viennese merchant, protection and guidance."

Then she sprinkled the branch over my head and around my feet. The end of the branch that hold was polished, showing off the golden wood. The leaves were long and narrow with irregular, wavy edges. It must be an oak tree, right?

After that, the priestess called the next person forward. Elius reluctantly mumbled something, and Ingrid took over, briskly guiding my friend to step up: "This man is named Elius Schreiber."

Virgin priestess went through the same routine again, calling out Eli's family business and hometown, and I couldn't help but look at him with suspicion as he hung his head. Did he spill everything in just one night? Or do the Virgins really have psychic powers?

"Sentries, set up the scene as usual," the tall, thin priestess clapped her hands together.

The soldiers scattered at the command, some helping the priestesses to light the braziers and crush the herbs; others stripped us of our clothes; some went off to bring our two horses; and some tested musical instruments—I recognized a lute and a hand drum right away.

Ophélie was in charge of the search and undressing. She raised her eyebrows, swiped the dagger from the sole of my boot, put her index finger to her lips to shush me, and nodded her head as if to say, "Lucky they didn't find this." I could only give an awkward laugh to play it off.

So, after about the time it takes to drink two beers, Eli and I were left in just our thin clothes and socks, hugging each other's arms and shivering in the autumn wind.

With the clear notes of the lute, the two Virgins held the lit incense burners and prayed in a mix of French and an ancient language I'd never heard before. The priestesses circled us counterclockwise, moving their arms to the beat of the drum, sprinkling powder from bowls onto the flames. Then, they lifted their veils and blew the ash onto us.

First, it was the bitter scent of sandalwood, like burnt toast, followed by the sweet of camphor, then a sharp, cool spiciness. I covered my mouth to muffle the cough in my hand. My nose was running, and my eyes were burning, like I'd rolled around in a kitchen that had been used to stir-fry chilis until it was pitch black. Finally, there was citrus and pine, and the air returned to its slightly bitter state.

The Virgins scooped water to wash my eyes. I clasped my hands together, asking her to give me water, and buried my face in the spring water to drink the coolness. My eyes could see again, my mouth could speak again, and the fatigue and soreness were all gone. I felt like I could ride a plow ox and till ten acres without getting tired.

The priestess who was giving orders asked me to flat out my hand, and my fingertips overlapped with her palm, loosely hooking our wrists together as we moved in sync through the smoky fire. At that moment, the drumbeats were intense and fast; at that moment, the gut strings of the lyre also vibrated in resonance. She loudly asked the Demon Lords for mercy on me, promising a bountiful offering with a long, drawn-out inflection: "We gather here, beating with the most sincere hearts, to offer Umbra respects to you, asking with boundless compassion to forgive this outsider."

I looked back to see Elius, holding onto the hem of another priestess's robe, also stepping into the smoke. Then, the sentries carried our clothes across the fire in several trips. When we all reached the end, the Virgin sprinkled the ash from the incense burner under the horses' hooves, "And welcome to you too." As she stood up and offered one oak leaf to each horse, the two animals with different personalities both nuzzled their jaws against the shoulder of the priestess in a sign of affection.

The music was dying down, and the ceremony was over. We finally got our clothes back to warm up (except for the dagger). I was surprised to see that the women, after all that, didn't seem out of breath, not even a drop of sweat on their foreheads. Did that mean they were all super fit or something?

As I was getting dressed, I asked my childhood friend in German, "Eli, psst.psst.. Eli! Why did you call them witches before? Did you spill all our secrets?"

"You didn't know? They didn't show you... that terrifying power? Nadi, I'm counting on you. I rarely wielded a sword even in my squire days..." His dusty face started to tear up as he spoke, "They've been kind to you, Nadia, please help us. Ask them to let us go... Friend, friend, forgive me this time."

"I don't know what? Can you be a little clearer??" I was starting to get anxious.

The commotion caught the attention of the priestess, who was sitting on the pristine relief of the fountain, cleaning the dirt from her hands. She called over the leader of the sentries and whispered something to her. Ingrid glanced at me, nodded in understanding, and after their conversation, she approached us.

"Get ready to go inside and see Her Highness. Elder Renée wants you to speak. Keep your follower in check; if he dares to make a scene and cry in front of the heir, I'll cut out his tongue." Ingrid looked me straight in the eyes and then glanced at Eli, spitting out the threat.

"Huh!..." My friend let out a wail as the sentry strapped a leather muzzle over his mouth. When I reached to take it off, Ophélie grabbed my arm and shook her head. For the first time, I angrily shook off her grip. In an instant, the leader pinned me to the ground; the tiles were bitingly cold. She was incredibly strong, and no matter how much I wriggled, I couldn't break free.

"This farce is over." The high priestess named Renée swept her robe past my nose, and the sentry quickly let go. I got up grumpily, straightening my clothes. The disparity in strength was so vast, and I gave Elius a steady look, silently vowing that whether we get through this ordeal or not, it's all on me.

Holding my breath, I rehearsed in my mind how to argue against any questions that might come my way. Led by the group into the meeting place, I wasn't in the mood to appreciate the golden, symmetrically elegant carvings on the supporting pillars, whether lit by the bonfire or the sunlight. The long corridor with iron doors on both sides made me feel oppressed. Our shadows, swallowed and then released by the columns, seemed like ghosts swaying.

The raised platform in the distance was just a few steps high, and the lake green light refracted from the ceiling totem made the floor tiles seem as cool and quiet as pebbles washed by a stream. The chatter died down as we approached, and as Renée, the Virgin, stepped forward, I looked up and observed her settling into the empty chair. Every chair at the crescent moon-shaped table was occupied by a woman in black, except for the one in the center with a bright red figure.

She looked to be in her early twenties, with a fair and smooth complexion, silver eyes round and large, and thick eyelashes fluttering as she squinted at people. Her high nose bridge and full lips, with twin braids wrapped around, covering her ears, reminded me of a sheep with fluffy wool. The golden circlet across her forehead signaled her status. She had an air of pride and sanctity that made me forget all the rehearsed words.

If she claimed to be the Moon Lord herself, no one would doubt her.

We were still in the stage of sizing each other up. I should have greeted her with courtly manners for men, but considering the local custom where women hold the reins, I switched to a curtsy. But since I was wearing trousers, I had to make do by grabbing the hem of my coat and pretending it was a skirt, bowing low to the heir with my eyes cast down in submission.

"Your Highness, my name is Nadia, and I represent the Austrian royal family, extending to you our respect and greetings."

I thought I'd be scolded for this awkward gesture, but when I looked up at the round table on the high platform, several elders were frowning and pursing their lips, their expressions full of confusion and criticism. I stole a glance at Her Highness and caught a fleeting smile at the corner of her red lips.

Perhaps winning the heir's favor was easier than I thought.

"You may rise, envoy from Vienna, I have received your greetings," she said, her voice clear and serene.

"Where did this court jester come from? You barged in uninvited, dirtying the sacred soil of Vigrid with your filthy boots, and now you try to cover up your rudeness with so-called 'respect'?" An elder with an official hat on her head and a crescent moon on her shoulder leaned both hands on the table, speaking out harshly.

I glanced at Her Highness again; she neither argued nor agreed, calm and composed, only her eyes twitched slightly at the beginning of this accusation.

"The purification ritual is complete, and the watchers of the demon realm have raised no objections." The Virgin's words were still melodious and pure; I wasn't sure if she was defending me or just stating the facts.

"Renée, as you've been sizing them up, have you seen any signs that this is another well-crafted trick by the Lumen Sages? Their hypocritical reach has been getting longer and longer in recent years," said the elder, holding the royal document I brought and passing it to her colleague on the left after reading.

"The traces are faint, but..." As soon as she said this, murmurs of doubt echoed around, drowning out the Virgin's plea.

As I caught whispers about punishment and imprisonment methods, the heiress rose from her seat and interrupted, "Silence! The words of the Virgins are not to be interrupted. Why does Umbra now ignore the advice of the Demon Lords' servants?" Once the room quieted down, she sat back down and said, "Priestess Renée, please continue."

"Just as Brigitte said, the Lumen Sages have set up missions in every corner of Europe. Our two foreign guests seem to have been corrupted by that radiance. However, the spirits whisper in my ear that Nadia of Vienna remains true to herself."

"Let's just slaughter the man as a sacrifice and send her packing. It's that simple," another elder interjected, her body lean and powerful, as she drummed her fingers on the table to get everyone's attention.

"This is a wrong judgment! I can prove our innocence. Please give me a chance!" I shouted, but the many eyes that turned on me were like arrows, dousing my cry. It was as if my voice was as insignificant as an ant's, not worth their consideration at all.

"Honey, handling swords and staffs is your forte, but dealing with these courtly political games isn't as simple as a dance. Before we dive deeper into this absurdity, remember, these Austrian royals are diplomatic guests, not enemies. Let's hear what the sentries have to say first, alright?" The owner of the soft voice crooked her finger at Ingrid.

"Sentry Leader Ingrid, I call you forward to testify. There's no need to be nervous. Now, please recount your experience from last night in front of the elders." The heir leaned forward, passing a glance.

Upon being nominated, the female soldier nodded, stepped forward, and saluted, "Yesterday at dusk, during our patrol on the hillside, we came across three individuals acting suspiciously. One of them went down the mountain ahead of the others, so we apprehended the remaining two suspects at the pass, searched them, and found royal letter. We then carefully knocked them out. The woman was properly taken care of at an inn, while the man was brought to the prison for questioning. After a thorough check, we confirmed they weren't carrying any narcotics or poisons; they were as fragile as chicks."

"Now you may speak, Nadia of Vienna, and tell us the true reason you've come to Vigrid," the heiress in the bright red motioned for me to step forward.

"The Habsburg dynasty sent us to Vigrid to document the local customs and people, so that we might serve the Moon Lord more devoutly. As for the Lumen Sages, I know nothing of them, and no one has identified themselves as such to me. The one who left ahead was our local guide," my voice trembled a bit, and I continued with a sense of grievance, "We've never set foot in Vigrid before and were unaware of the forbidden rules; we meant no disrespect... and certainly no harm..."

"Jeanne d'Arc! I thought moving the prison from the tower to the city center was already the height of absurdity, but I didn't expect you to be considering pardoning criminals, giving them a chance to lie and wriggle their way out. This will lead to irreversible consequences!" The elder wearing an official hat was on the attack again, but this time, the target of the accusation was the heir herself.

"I know what I've done." It was the first time I saw Her Highness snap back, and this time the twitch in her eye was even more noticeable, "Moving the prison to the city center was to increase administrative efficiency, and it's in the best interest of the people."

"Goodness, it's been almost forty years, and you still won't let go of that poor mother and daughter. Isabella, Rosa was once your pride and joy. Honestly, I feel sorry for you." The elder with the soft voice feigned nonchalance and yawned.

"Quoi ??"

This attack seemed to light the fuse on a powder keg; the elders all stood up, pointing fingers and shouting accusations at each other. Amidst the uproar, the heir barely managed to give the leader of the sentries orders to avoid our awkward stares: "Ingrid, take them out, the council still needs to discuss... wait for further summons."

So we moved outside the hall, and after a long, agonizing wait, the sunlight shifted from the lake surface to directly above us, when we were finally allowed back into the chamber. The elders were all seated again, sitting upright and glaring at each other. The heir looked a bit weary, propping her head with her hand, and she was the only one to pronounce the result in a hoarse voice.

Out of diplomatic courtesy and Umbra's mercy, the council has offered an alternative to imprisonment. One option is that I become Eli's guardian during my stay in Vigrid, where he would have to wear specific attire and shackles, and there would be two soldiers accompanying us throughout the assessment period. The second option is that I can move about freely, but Eli would be imprisoned until the travel is over. The third option is that I can stay, but Eli must have his memories of this place blurred and leave Vigrid immediately. I chose the third option and agreed with Eli that he would wait for me in the town at the foot of the mountain; every day, I would send a message to the town. If the messages stop, it means something has happened to me.

As for my punishment, I have to spend a couple of hours a day doing community service in the city. Being an explorer, I had already planned to immerse myself in the local life here, so this is hardly a punishment at all.

In short, the diplomatic trial was a nerve-wracking experience, but it went smoothly. After I bid farewell to the dazed Elius and grabbed some dried food from my satchel, it was already afternoon. I asked the innkeeper from this morning to draw a rough map of the Vigrid area for me and bought a set of local clothing.

When I started my formal travel, the first thing that came to mind was to visit the temple of the Virgins. So, I rode my horse across the grand bridge at a gallop, which was long enough for me to recite a few poems.

As I studied the map in my hands, I was allowed to roam freely around Vigrid, which let my thoughts take flight. The bell tower on the highest cliff... the plaza below it, a web-like structure... temples, schools, and the council building scattered around. That means the north end of the bridge is the real center of power. I'm curious if this is the birthplace of civilization here, perhaps where the queens of yore settled the people, and then the residences radiated outwards to the inn where I just stayed.

I've seen similar layouts in many territories: a castle on high, surrounded by the upper lands where the nobility live, then the common townsfolk's activity center, and often the slums and red-light districts at the bottom. Vigrid doesn't have clear city walls but uses bridges to separate the commoners from the nobility. The temples and the city council hall are interspersed, reminding me of ancient Rome during its republican period. And I haven't visited the slums of Vigrid yet; perhaps there are still marginalized groups here, just not easily encountered on the main streets.

I finally looked to the south, where in the distance on the mountains stood round, white buildings, milky-white connected cottages with a very Mediterranean, perhaps Greek, flair, but nestled in the mountains. There were also continuous aqueducts, bringing mountain springs to the town.

I returned to the area near the council and made my way to the temple I'd heard about, said to be a charming, circular building. The ladies in black, seeing me wandering alone on this side of the bridge, cast curious glances my way, yet never allowed me a real chance to speak with them, always disappearing around the corner the moment I noticed them.

I dismounted and approached the building with a dome like a moon disk; its door was a narrow one, resembling an upside-down crescent. The door was carved with insects that had their wings fully spread—scarabs? Butterflies? Moths? I unfolded a parchment and sketched it down. The ancient Egyptians believed that the emerald green scarab had the power of rebirth. Could it be that I would learn similar revelations from the teachings in Vigrid?

This thought made me hesitate. Although the purification ceremony in the morning was kindly hosted by the Virgins, but the chaos that followed... It would be quite bold to ask her to explain their religion to me. Or maybe I should first go to town and find out what the Virgins like, look for a trendy gift or a bottle of fine wine to use as a conversation starter. I pondered deeply, my brows surely furrowed in concentration.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Lost in thought, I heard a voice that had made an impression on me earlier in the day. It was the heir and her guard approaching from the temple, addressing me.

She looked relaxed, as if she had shed the stress of the meeting.

"Oh! Your Highness, I didn't expect to run into you. I was wondering if it's appropriate for me to disturb the Virgins right now. You see, I was a prisoner just half a day ago." Now dressed in the local attire of Vigrid, I finally managed to perform the proper curtsy for her.

"I stepped back with one foot, lifted the skirt at my side, and curtsied with a smile and a nod.

“Stay vigilant, friend from afar; bowing to everyone might lead to unnecessary trouble. Especially with the elders,” her tone remained dignified, but her lips curled into an appropriate smile.

She approached me; she wasn’t wearing a veil or a mask, and that almost divine beauty was right in front of me. She handed me a lily brooch as a token, to prove that I was the heir’s guest: “Now, you can enter the temple with peace of mind.”

"Your Highness, about the next arrangements..." the guard, dressed in black and red, leaned in to remind her.

"I'm aware," the heir replied, her gaze steady. The quietness in her contemplation only amplified her beauty, "I look forward to reading your travelogue."

It was only after they had left for a while that I realized her last remark was meant for me.

.tbc

Notes:

1、Renée is an elegant and unique French name that comes from the Latin word meaning "reborn." 2、Brigitte is associated with St. Brigid of Ireland, who is regarded as the guardian of wisdom and knowledge. 3、Isabella means "God's promise" in French. This name has Hebrew origins. 4、Nadia Krämer means "merchant." 5、Elios Schreiber means "scribe" or "secretary."

[princess-of-the-corner]

Fic Snip from Kingdom Hearts - Destiny Vault:

--

    The old man scoffed and adjusted his glasses.  “To think I crossed the Misty Stream to attend a trade partner’s royal’s ascension only to be trapped in a mystic curse,” he grumbled.

    Sora blinked, picking up on the mention of the space sector they had just passed through.  “Wait, what was that?”

    “Sora!” a familiar voice blurted from several feet away.  He turned to locate the source of the voice when a brunette in a purple dress ran up and wrapped him in a bear hug.

    Kairi and Mickey gasped as they recognized the girl.  Sora pulled her off to get a look at her face, and he was just as shocked as them.  “Rapunzel?”

    The princess of Corona laughed.  “It’s good to see you,” she said.

    Sora chuckled nervously.  “Uh, same.  But what are you doing here?” he asked.  “This isn’t anywhere near Corona.”

    “Well, the same thing that the rest of us are doing here,” the old man said.  “This kingdom has guests from many different kingdoms and nations spreading far and wide.  I am the duke representing Weselton, Arendelle’s closest trading partner.”

    Sora crossed his arms as he processed what he was being told, his confusion visible on his face.  “You… crossed the sea between worlds?”

    The Duke of Weselton nodded.  “As we have done several times in our many years of international relations,” he added, as if it should have been obvious.

    “M-Many years?” Sora parroted in bewilderment.  “But I thought the worlds were supposed to be separate, and people weren’t supposed to know that there were other worlds beyond their own.  ‘World Order’, Donald keeps telling me.”

    “That would be true for the common gentry,” a man dressed in a Colonial British naval uniform interjected.  “But governments and blue-blooded houses have known of the greater World for centuries, and have engaged in international relations with many of the other lands since we have been able.”

    Sora and his companions were taken aback.  People have been traveling between worlds long before them?  If so, then what was the point of the secrecy that Donald always used to give him grief over?

    Goofy leaned down to whisper into Mickey’s ear.  “Did you know about this, your Majesty?” he asked.

    Mickey shrugged.  “My experience with external relations was mostly related to my responsibilities as a Keyblade Master,” he replied.  “Though I guess that explains how Minnie and Scrooge understood it well enough.”

    “Kingdoms and nations that make business in commerce cannot well trade or profit much if their reach is a world border that stops two meters from the edge of their dominion,” the British merchant added.  “Were that so, the East India Trading Company would not exist.”

    “East India Trading Company?  I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before,” Kairi mused.

    “Oh, there you are, Rapunzel.  I was wondering where you’d run off to.”  The party turned to the new speaker and recognized him as Eugene Fitzherbert, accompanied by one of the Kingdom of Corona���s royal guards.  He was dressed in more formal attire, donning a black suit with a purple vest marked with the sun-shaped sigil of Corona.  Sora smiled, putting his confusion to one side as he was simply happy to see his friend.  “Oh, hello there, Sora, Kairi, Mickey, Goofy.  Fancy seeing you here.”

    “Hey, Eugene,” Sora greeted.

    “Hang on.  The worlds had barriers separating them until a few years ago.  How have you been able to sail the Lanes Between before that?” Kairi asked.

    The trading company merchant smirked.  “We have our means,” he said cryptically.  “Although I’ll admit, we did enjoy the lack of barriers in the last few years, even while our business locations were being lost.”

    “But how do you reinforce your ships against the darkness of the Lanes Between?” Mickey asked.  “Especially for the crew members out in the open.”

    “Really?  I didn’t feel a thing,” Eugene remarked.  “Then again, I don’t really understand what you’re talking about.”

    “A-hyuck.  I guess you could say the same thing about Captain Hook’s pirate ship,” Goofy said, recalling how the vessel sailed around the Gummi Ship to ambush and capture them.  The trading company merchant frowned at the mention of pirates.

    Rapunzel shivered and did an erratic jig.  “Brrr…  My feet are freezing!” she complained.

    “Say, maybe we should find you some shoes,” Eugene suggested.

    “And a cloak, too,” Hans added.

    “It’s that blasted queen’s curse,” the Duke spat.  “That monster and her wretched sorcery.”

    Eugene was incensed at the Duke’s remarks against magic, as Rapunzel used to have powers and Sora and company had their magic, and they would by extension fall under his “wretched monsters” categorization.  He stepped up close to the Duke and glared down at him.  “Do you have something against magic, pal?”

    The Duke gulped in reaction to his threatening tone, then quickly composed himself and cleared his throat.  “As a matter of fact, I do,” he replied sternly.  His bodyguards gently nudged Eugene to take a step back.

    Eugene shrugged.  “I’ll admit, I’m not sure what answer I was expecting.”  The Corona guard rolled his eyes.

--

Yeah, I threw off the whole established understanding of the worlds here. (Though, honestly, at times it feels like this makes more sense.) And Eugene is really fun to write.

GOD THOUGH LIKE

I know there's probably a reason for it in-universe but they really should let the characters interact between worlds

[liviavanrouge]

Bonding Family Ch 2- Vinaya

Livia walked to her room, her eyes widening at how decorated it was. Her uncle managed to finish all of this for her in a span of a few minutes.

There was a chandelier with crystals in the middle of the room, her bed was shaded black and purple with comfortable lace touched pillows. A study desk was on the east side of the room by a window, three jars of candy lined up on the surface of it.

"This is mine!?"Livia gasped stunned. The maid that brought her, Harlia, bowed to her. "Yes it is, and you are to meet with the royal family for a royal gathering"Harlia responds respectfully.

Livia nodded, rubbing the back of her head. She opened her luggage, pulling out one of her dresses and a few accessories that went with it. "His majesty assigned me as your maid, allow me to prepare you"Harlia smiled making her way over. Livia held still as Harlia helped her get ready, wondering what else her uncle prepared for her.

"LIVY!!"

Livia looked away finding her aunt coming in, Vinaya smiling wide at her. "Auntie came to walk with you to the throne room!"Vinaya announces looking excited. Livia smiled and nodded, walking over to her aunt when Harlia finished. "Really!?"Livia smiled excited. Vinaya nodded, giggling happily. Harlia bowed once more, Livia's heels clicking alongside her aunt's as the duo made their way to the throne room.

The halls started getting more crowded as the two continued, Livia noticing the people were wearing fancy outfits and some were pointing towards her and whispering. Two guards opened the throne doors, looking curiously at Livia as she passed by them after her aunt.

What was going on? Too many people were here for it to be a normal meeting...

Was there an announcement about her?

Her eyes widened noticing nine boys sitting on thrones in a row below two thrones at the top. Her Uncle sat on one of the two thrones at the top. Her eyes scanned everything and took note that there was an empty throne beside a boy with dreads that flopped to one side.

they were gonna announce a new royal it must be their debut today

"Stand here"Vinaya smiled stopping Livia. Livia blinked surprised but complied, standing right before the line of thrones.

Vinaya made her way up the stairs, sitting on the throne beside Lilac's. She smiled at her husband, practically shaking with excitement. Murmuring filled the air, people staring at Livia as she stood before the royal family.

Now she was nervous, was she already in trouble or something...?

What was going on?

"Livia Garcia Vanrouge."

She lifted her head surprised, finding her uncle standing now in front of his throne. He smiled at her and clasped his hands together.

"Everyone! This is my niece! I have brought her back with me so she can get to know her family!"Lilac announces silencing the crowd as a stunned shock filled the room, waving off of everyone.

Livia stared up at her uncle, her eyes widening slightly.

"From this day on, she will now be Honorary Princess Livia Garcia Vanrouge!! She has all the rights of the royal family here and should be treated as a royal!!! Anyone who disrespects my niece will find themselves facing the death penalty!" Livia covered her mouth surprised, gasping when her dress changed, a tiara perched on her head.

"Livia, take your seat on the throne"Lilac smiled nodding to her. She smiled wide in return, walking towards the stairs, and walking up. She sat down, smoothing her dress down as she took a seat. The dread haired male gave her a small glare but didn't say a single word to her.

Vinaya smiled and lifted her hand as she spoke, "Tonight we will be celebrating our niece's arrival with a four day festival funded by the royal family!" A cheer followed, applause filling the air, smiles on everyone's faces.

Livia lifted her hands, clapping with the crowd, causing a chuckle to ripple across some of her cousins up to her uncle and aunt.

~~

A sigh came from Livia as she entered her room, freezing when she saw someone there with Harlia. "Princess Livia! Meet Wolfe, he will be your personal guard!"Harlia beamed beckoning to the make next to her. Livia nodded in greeting to her personal guard, wondering why he looked so tired.

"LIVY! AUNTIE IS HERE!"

Livia beamed, turning around, her eyes lighting up.

"AUNTIE!"

She hugged Vinaya, causing the woman to laugh. A kiss was pressed to her cheek, Vinaya hugging her tight. "Auntie, what's all this?"Livia asks looking at the servants holding gifts behind her.

Wait.....

WERE THOSE FOR HER!??

"I got you gifts!! New dresses, jewelry and more!!"Vinaya beamed looking over at the servants. Livia stared in surprise, the maids and butlers all walking in, setting the gifts down in the middle of the room. "Oh and Livia we have to get you a Sand Walker, I nearly forgot!"Vinaya gasps her eyes widening.

Livia blinked looking surprised, wondering what a Sand Walker was. Vinaya hummed, muttering names. "What's a Sand Walker, Auntie?"Livia asks looking up at her. Vinaya perked up and smiled once again.

"A Sand Walker are people from the Scalding Sands! A long time ago some were forced into servitude here! They were freed when me and your uncle became the rulers but some stayed and gave us their full devotion and loyalty!"

Livia's eyes widened, getting reminded of Jamil instantly but shook it off remembering that these servants agreed to this, Jamil didn't.

She smiled at her aunt, interested in meeting these people. "Where are they?"Livia asks curiously. "They reside on the east side of the palace!"Vinaya explains clasping her hands together.

"Your majesty!"

Vinaya turned around, a small frown on her face. "Yes?"Vinaya sighed turning to the head butler. "Duchess Seraphia is here." Vinaya's eyes widened, looking alarmed.

"I shall go see her now!"Vinaya announces quickly turning away from a curious Livia. She gave Livia a reassuring smile and left the room with the head butler trailing behind her. Livia walked over to her gifts, starting to open them.

"Oh, they're all so beautiful!"Harlia giggled putting the clothes away as Wolfe guarded the door. Livia smiled and nodded, giggling happily. She tilted her head to the side, smiling at a stuffed bear. Humming came from her as she finished opening her gifts from her aunt, hoping she can send a few gifts back home.

"Princess why don't we go to the garden!"Harlia suggests beaming.

"Oh yeah!"Livia beamed, looking at her personal maid.

~~~~

Livia looked out the hall window, staring down towards the garden, her eyes sparkling at how big it was. She walked with Wolfe and Harlia, her hair up in pigtails. "This way to the garden!"Harlia beamed. Livia nodded, walking down the hallway. A red haired woman got in her way, her eyes widening as she froze. Tension filled the hallway, Harlia and Wolfe staring the woman down.

Livia watched the woman closely, her face falling expressionless seeing that this woman was looking down on her already but wasn't outwardly saying it due to the death penalty threat hanging over everyone's head. "Can you get out of my way"Livia demands her eyes narrowed.

"Duchess Seraphia! Move out of the princesses way! His majesty, the emperor would have your HEAD for this!!"Wolfe commands pointing to the silent woman. "Forgive me for my impudence, Princess Livia"Seraphia smiled stepping out of the way.

Livia walked past her without a word, her pigtails gently swaying behind her. She walked out of view into the garden, heading down the stairs.

"Duchess Seraphia!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO LEAVE THE GUEST WAITING ROOM!!*

Vinaya stormed over, her eyes narrowed with a look of anger on her face. "My husband and I will not keep reminding you of palace etiquette!"Vinaya snapped, glaring at the woman.

"Your niece is quite interesting, most would fear me....but she looked at me as if she was the most dangerous person in the world, how interesting"Seraphia chuckled her tone amused yet mocking.

A cold look appeared on Vinaya's face, her eyes narrowed. "Duchess Seraphia...Shall I prepare to have you beheaded, don't forget my husband's threat...he meant it"Vinaya warns.

Seraphia smiled in response and turned to the queen. "I meant no disrespect towards the young girl."

"Then show respect towards her"Vinaya says lowly, annoyed.

"Understood, your majesty, the empress, I shall be friendly"Seraphia smiled, her eyes glinting.

@queen-of-twisted @yukii0nna @zexal-club

[thehungergamesbreakdown]

What is The Capitol, And Why Does It Suck

For the entire series, the Capitol is an overarching main antagonist - it is the final boss's lair so to speak. This is where President Snow rules over Panem with an iron fist. But what IS the Capitol, exactly? And why do its citizens have such a disconnect from the districts? Before I'm able to properly get into how the Capitol is different from the districts, I want to talk briefly about what the Capitol actually is.

We get our first reference to the Capitol in the book on page six. Katniss is telling us how as a child, she would share her thoughts about everything, "about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol." (Collins, pg 6). Later during the Reaping, we are told that the Capitol roses out of the chaos of the brutal war that destroyed nearly all of America and brought "peace and prosperity to its citizens" (Collins, pg 18). It is the Capitol that enforces the Treaty of Treason and the Hunger Games every year, who never have to subject their children to such horrors.

The Capitol is located in what has to be the Rocky Mountain Range, Katniss tells us as such while describing that "The mountains form a natural barrier between the Capitol and the eastern districts. It is almost impossible to enter from the east except through the tunnels. This geographical advantage was a major factor in the districts losing the war" (Collins, pg 59).

When Katniss and Peeta arrive at the Capitol, they are awestruck. Everything is so bright and glistening in a rainbow of hues with buildings that tower in the air, with oddly dressed people who have never missed a meal in their entire life. Katniss thinks the colors seem too artificial, everything is far too bright. Not only are their fashion and buildings different but the Capitol is far more technologically advanced, with the ability to genetically modify people and heal unfixable injuries like a burst eardrum with no issue at all.

In the movies, they do an excellent job of making the Capitol people look alien with their clothes of flashy colors with undertones of black. They tone down the genetic modifications but still, they do a fantastic job at showing how strange the Capitol's people are. Katniss's prep team is the first set of Capitol people we get to see up close and they are different from any other characters Katniss has interacted with. There are three of them, Venia who has aqua hair and gold tattoos above her eyebrows, Octavia with her entire body died a pea green, and Flavius with orange corkscrew locks and purple lipstick.

Katniss mentioned how even the way the Capitol people talk is different from the districts. They talk high-pitched and barely open their jaws with this accent with "odd vowels, clipped words, and always a hiss on the letter s" (Collins, pg 61).

"The Hunger Games" does an excellent job of making us quickly realize the Capitol is a strange new environment that is cruel and distant from the Districts and completely out of touch with reality. In our next post, I'll look at the different attitudes of the Capitol to the Hunger Games and the two characters who break this norm! See you next time.

[maysoulrose]

The Thief and The Moon chapter 12

skyrim Brynjolf x my dark elf oc fanfic

Things are getting DEEP.

———————-chapter 12————————-

Morning came, and Brynjolf woke up on the floor, where he had made his bed.  His body ached from the hard surface. Looking over at Allustria, she was in the exact same position he had left her in. 

He got up, groaned, and stretched. Rubbing his neck muscles and popping his back. He smiled at the woman in front of him. Remembering her beauty and silliness of the night before. Wondering what she would remember. Deciding to let her sleep off the hangover she’d most likely have, he headed to the market. Thinking he could snoop around town and see what this place has to offer. 

He made his way to the Gildergreen and spotted the Companion’s hall. Not quite his kind of crowd. His eyes trail up the mountainous stairway, leading to the jarls castle. He thought it better to keep out of there as well. Instead he decided to wander through the living quarters. 

Scanning the area, Brynjolf smiled upon finding the Hall of the Dead.

“Found you~” he kneels next to a patch of deep purple flowers with thin, triangular petals, and a yellow stamen.

Brynjolf spent his time alone prepping for the journey back. He gathered food and a set of camping supplies. Soon, he returned to their room to pack up their things, so it would all be ready once Allustria was awake. Filling a tankard of water, he dropped the flower stems inside, and set it on the nightstand next to the bed, along with a cup of water for her to drink. His ears perked when he overheard someone talking through the balcony doorway.

“Yeah, a cold wind is blowing in from the east. Seems like they’re getting a snowstorm out there. Gotta dress warm!” The farmer says. 

Brynjolf sighs. He didn’t want to have to stay another night. Thinking of Allustria, who always seems to be underdressed, he heads out once again, in hopes of finding a couple of cloaks to wear. 

—————————————

Allustria wakes and bolts up, looking for Brynjolf.

“Oh, bad idea—“ She found a bucket next to the bed and hurled last night’s contents into it. After spitting out the taste, she attempted to look around again, squinting her eyes from the light.  Her expression softens when she spots the nightshade flowers next to her. She smiled to herself, knowing Brynjolf had picked them for her. She brought them closer so she could inspect them.  

Last night’s events were pretty foggy, but she did remember entering the tavern with her new dress and having the intent of putting on a show. Looking around the room, she was able to put together that they at least slept separately, so perhaps her attempts at wooing the man hadn’t worked. It’s for the best though, what’s the point of having fun with someone and not being able to remember it the next morning? Although… she did notice that her corset had been loosened. But everything else was as it was, so perhaps he just wanted her to be able to breathe while she slept. Very considerate of him. 

Everything was packed up, so she pocketed the flowers, slung her pack onto her back, and carried his bag down to the bar. 

“Did you happen to see where my friend went?” She asked Hulda, who offered her a fresh cup of tea and breakfast. 

“Who, that handsome fella? Heard him talkin’ to one of the farmers about the storm that’s a brewin’, then he headed to the market.” 

"He is handsome, isn't he?" Allustria giggled.

Once Allustria was finished eating, she headed out to look for him. It was noticeably colder today, and she hated herself for selling her fur armor to get this sexy little dress. But still, it covered more than her leather armor would, so the dress she wore. 

“Ah! You’re awake. Here, put this on.” Brynjolf appeared behind her and swirled a cloak over her shoulders.  “We better get going if we want to beat this storm. I have everything we need, so let’s go!” He took his pack from her, dressed in a cloak himself, and headed for the city gates. 

Allustria’s heart was beating noticeably faster as soon as she saw the man. She felt embarrassed for some reason. She tried to remember if she did anything worthy of feeling like that, but couldn’t seem to remember anything past arriving mid party, and sitting on his lap. Her blush deepened… oh yeah. 

There was a hefty wind blowing in from the mountains. The empty fields made it more apparent. With no trees to break it, the wind just about knocked them over! They hurried to Shadowmere, who seemed happy to see them. Capes billowing this way and that, Allustria tucked her head down, pinning her hair to her chest to avoid a horrible tangled mess. 

“Maybe…. You should drive…” Allustria suggested, still feeling a little dizzy from last night. Brynjolf nodded and took the front half of the saddle. He helped her up onto the back and gave Shadowmere a light kick to begin their journey.

Allustria seemed to just keep finding things to feel more and more flustered about. The saddle was on the bigger side, but still not made for two. The way her groin was sliding towards Brynjolf's hips was quite the thing to stir up her imagination. Also, the fact that he was in this seat last time made her head spin. What he must've been thinking… 

An icy wind blows Allustria back to reality and she wraps her arms around him for stability. Burrowing her hooded face in his back.

The three of them cross the bridge and follow the road that hugs the river. As soon as they reach the mountain range, it begins to snow. Lightly at first, then falling down hard in large white clumps. 

“If this keeps up, we’ll need to find shelter!” Brynjolf yells so Allustria can hear him over the wind and river. They kept going until the path was barely visible. 

“There’s a cave up ahead I think. I remember seeing it before the tower.” Allustria points in the direction. 

They pass the bandit tower that they cleared out the day before, and follow the sloping path. Shadowmere hesitated and slowed his pace to prevent slipping. They passed the raging waterfall and Allustria pointed out the cave she remembered. 

 They found a clearing in the terrain to cross the river. The water was surprisingly shallow and a small bank with trees growing from it sat in the center. Crossing it, and back into the water, Brynjolf and Allustria dismounted once they reached the other side.

Allustria tried to pull Shadowmere into the cave with them, but he wouldn’t have it. So instead she told him to hide in the shadows, and wait for them until the storm passed. 

In the cave and out of the cold, they head through the tight tunnel and make it to an opening. There are bedrolls splattered with bones and blood. They glance at each other, and continue onward, weapons at the ready. Smashed tables and wooden structures decorate the cave floor. They continue through another tunnel and emerge into an even bigger opening,  full of pines, a small pond, and a beautiful waterfall at the far end of the cave. Skulls and assorted bones scattered across the cave floor, and finally the stench hit them.

“Trolls.” Brynjolf concluded. “I hate trolls.” Allustria nodded in agreement. 

“I need to start carrying a bow. I don’t know how many I could take with just a couple of daggers.” 

“I don’t want to find out.” He said, lightly placing his fingers on her shoulder, turning her around to head back instead of fight.

They found a spot near the entrance, deciding to stay by the bed rolls they passed earlier. That way they can make a quick escape if they’re ever spotted. 

Avoiding the bloodied beds, Allustria sat, wrapping herself up in her dark gray cloak. She leaned against the damp wall, thumping the back of her head against it. 

“How long do you think this storm will last?” She asked. Brynjolf sat a foot or so away from her.

“I don’t know. Hopefully not long.” 

It was quiet. They tried to ignore the smell of dried blood and foul odors that oozed from the cave. 

“Thank you for the flowers.” Allustria said, remembering them just now. Brynjolf smiled.

“Don’t mention it.” 

Allustria started to shiver from the cold rock pressing against her back. She scooted forward, trying to find a comfortable spot, but failing.

“Here,” Brynjolf opened up his matching cloak and she eagerly crawled inside. She lay between his knees, wrapped up in the fabric, hood up, and leaned against his chest. He closed his arms around her and she felt an immediate relief from his heat radiating off of him. Both happy to be sharing each other's warmth.  Sitting in comfortable silence, keeping an ear out for danger, they both rest and save their energy while not quite falling asleep. 

While they waited, Allustria tried her best to remember last night. Flashes of moments from her dancing and falling into the lap of a man flickered through her mind like a fading dream. She remembered checking to see Brynjolf’s reaction from his seat at the bar. His eyes glued to her, but not of jealousy. More like he was enjoying the show. When someone had caressed her thigh, she honestly thought about cutting off those little fingers, but then saw Brynjolf lick his lips, setting her loins aflame, So she let it slide as part of the performance. That seemed to be as far as her memory would let her traverse. 

She let the sounds of his breathing distract her. A mindless finger traced the stitching in his leather armor. Wondering what he might be thinking about now. 

——————————————————————

An hour or so passed. Brynjolf decided to go out and check the weather’s progress. Allustria reluctantly left her spot on his chest and let him go. He was only gone a moment before returning to her to give her an update.

“It’s letting up a little. I bet the snow will stop in another hour or so.” 

“Good. I want to get out of here.” 

Brynjolf sat across from her. Thinking of what to talk about to pass the time.

“Do you… remember last night?” He asked. 

“Not really,” She sighed. “Why? Did I do something embarrassing?” 

“No, not at all,” Brynjolf laughed. “You were the center of attention, alright, with your beautiful dancing.” Taking note that she didn’t remember asking him to kiss her.

“Oh~ I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She smiled. 

“I did… Quite a bit actually…” Allustria blushed at his sincere remark. 

She looked around the cave, getting bored, and decided to wander around. Peeking around boulders and things to see if the previous campers left anything interesting. 

“Uuughh, I just wish we were home already. I hate being cold.” 

“Don’t forget the hot springs on the way!” Brynjolf reminded her. She jumped back into his view, a fresh look of excitement on her face

“Oh yeah!” The cloak still tightly wrapped around her, she eagerly waddled back to him. He laughed at her silly nature.

“Let’s go check the weather again!” She grabbed her stuff and headed down the tunnel. 

“Already?!” Brynjolf had to hurry and catch up to her. 

It was still lightly snowing, but the visibility was clear. 

“Come on! It looks clear enough now, let’s go!” She waited for Brynjolf’s approval before calling for Shadowmere. He nodded, so she whistled and waited for the horse to emerge from his shadowy sleep.  

The two of them get on and cross the river once again. Following the road, until coming to a fork and checking the sign. They decide to take the high road, passing a Stormcloak fort. Arriving at a bridge, they break off the path and cross the river. It was still snowing lightly, but they felt a slight warmth in the breeze from the hot springs ahead. Finally they had arrived! Heading past a few pools, they found a nice spot with large flat rocks to set up a small camp.

They unloaded their packs. Brynjolf had enough supplies to set two tents, as well as some firewood. Once the tents were up, they made a small campfire between them. Allustria happily dropped to her knees in front of it, holding her hands above the flames. 

By the time they had gotten the camp up, the snow had stopped and the sun was lowering into the horizon. Brynjolf took both of their cloaks and hung them up to dry. Along with his armor, he sat with Allustria at the fire in his white cotton shirt and brown pants. 

Once the sun had set, and they properly warmed up, Allustria looked to the steaming pools around her.

“Ready for a swim?” She gives him a raised eyebrow. 

“Of course. But First, I gotta take a piss.” He jumps to his feet, “Go on ahead.” And trudges into the forest to find a bush to relieve himself on. 

She watches him disappear and slips out of her clothing, keeping it by the fire to stay toasty. Allustria dips her toes in to check the temperature, and steps in. Sighing at the perfect temperature, She wades further out to a deeper area and enjoys the warmth, fully submerging herself. 

——————————————-

Brynjolf hears rustling a few paces away. He leans to look. A small fox wanders by, and high tails it in the opposite direction when it sees him standing there. He tucks himself back in his pants and buttons up. Shoving branches away as he makes his way back through the forestry. He emerges and sees their tents a little bit further than he was expecting. He must've gotten a bit turned around. He spots Allustria’s clothes hanging with her cloak, but no Allustria. 

 While scanning the area, a shadow under the water catches his eye, at the far end of the pool. Allustria's moonlit hair emerges from the water. She's facing away from him, scrubbing her scalp and squeezing water out of her hair.

By the Gods, she was naked. He takes cover behind a bush to assess the situation. The clouds had parted and moonlight reflected off of her wet hair. It lit her curves in just the right way. He leans forward to get a better look and his foot presses down on a stick, snapping it. He ducks just before Allustria turns toward his direction. He holds his breath and shuts his eyes, trying to decide if it was okay to spy on her like this… she knew he'd be back soon, right? He waits a moment, before taking his chances at looking up again.  He sets his eyes back to where he last saw her, but she’s gone.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, to sneak up on me~” Allustria’s lips brush against the tip of his ear. Her breath on his cheek sends a chill down his spine. 

Brynjolf’s heart jumps up into his throat. “You, Lass… are terrifying.” He says once again, deciding that he liked it. He turns toward her to see her sly smile.

“You have no idea~” she almost purrs 

That remark causes him to turn a bit red. Her hair is slicked back, but draped over her shoulders and down her chest, censoring her from his view.

“Now… do me a favor… take off your clothes..” She leans in, his heart is pounding now, cheeks flushed. He’s captured in the glow of her eyes. Her soft lashes flutter as she blinks slowly. Enticing him in with her slightly parted lips. She places a hand on his shoulder, tracing her fingers on the soft cotton. “And take.. “ she pressed her palm firmly against him “A bath!”

            With one giant shove, Allustria uses an arm and her bare toes against his back to push him into the spring water!

She’s cackling over his surprise. Brynjolf splashes and gasps for air. Once he gets his footing on the slippery mineral coated floor, he swipes his ginger hair out of his eyes, leans forward to catch his breath, and looks at the devil who almost drowned him. 

“Oh you’re going to get it now, Lass.” he’s bearing his teeth, with a slight smirk. She’s standing at the edge of the small ledge she sent him flying over, laughing to the stars. She has a fur blanket clutched to her chest, covering about half her body, while her long moonlit hair covers the rest. 

Brynjolf jumps forward, water splashes everywhere, and yanks at the pelt. She about chokes on her own fit of giggles when realizing she’s going to plummet into the water as well. She spreads her arms out, wildly, to try and catch herself, but just lands chest first right into the man.

They both struggle to break the water surface. Allustria’s hair is plastered over her eyes. She peels it away, revealing a scowl, but then snorts and a smile goes with it. Brynjolf is letting himself float back now and splashes her. 

“Fine, I’ll take a bath. Now that we’re even…”

Allustria raises an eyebrow “um, you’re the one who tried to catch a sneaky perv” She lifts her chin, catching the moonlight on her face. “I get a freebie since you pulled me in~”

He narrows his eyes at her. She’s still somehow totally covered by her damnable hair.  

“Fine.  I’ll take a bath. “ he repeats himself, ignoring her threat. Brynjolf wades over to their camp site. Sloshing out like a waterlogged sack of potatoes. 

Allustria swims through the shallow water, following him. She peeks over the edge of the pool to watch him undress.

The spring water reflects the moons and stars beautifully, making it just bright enough to see. Brynjolf kicks off his waterlogged boots, and peels off the soaked white shirt that was clinging to him, showing off his strong back. Allustria twists her toes together in anticipation. He loosens the ties around his waist. She can see the curves of his lower back disappear into his leather pants. He pauses for a moment, holding his hands on the top hem of his trousers, but stops. 

Fully aware he’s being meticulously watched, he decides to leave his pants on for his bath, just to frustrate her. He smiles to himself, hearing Allustria’s quiet huff of disappointment. She silently slips away into the depths, like a snake. 

Brynjolf wades into the water and finds a nice place to relax in before beginning to bathe. 

The two of them finish cleaning themselves as best they can. They leave a larger than necessary gap between the two of them. Maybe taking a few glances to check if the other is still there.  Brynjolf splashes his face one more time and wipes down his arms. He looks back and sees that Allustria has already made her way into the tents.The fur blanket in hand and her long hair covering her backside. 

She hangs the fur blanket over by the fire to dry overnight then ducks into her tent.   Brynjolf floats in the warm water for a while, letting it soak to his bones. 

Deciding he's finished as well, Brynjolf wades over to the camp. He peels off his pants, regretting his decision to bathe with them on, and sets them by the rest of his armor, which was already almost dry from the flames.  He wraps himself up in his wool cloak and finds a seat by the fire pit. 

Allsutria comes out of her tent and is braiding her long hair. Her torso wrapped in a thin white fabric with a heart shaped chestline. It's twisted around and tied at the side, making an asymmetric shape. The bottom of the material swoops along her right thigh, then comes up the side of her left leg. Just begging to be touched.

He can feel himself begin to throb below the blanket. He shifts in his seat to adjust his growing member into a more comfortable spot. Something he’s gotten quite used to, these past few days…

Allustria joins him by the fire, sitting across from him. She finishes her hair into two long braids, then spins a couple of fish that she had stuck by the fire to cook, making sure they get evenly toasted. Her arm presses against her chest as she leans to one side, causing her breasts to be pushed together.

'She must know what she's doing to me..' Brynjolf drinks in her beautiful body. The light from the fire reflected onto her, showing every curve. 

“Looks like the food is done.” She says, grabbing one of the pierced fish and handing it to him.  He accepts. She sits rather close to him.  He can see a clear view of her cleavage now. The light from the fire washed over her beautiful skin. They eat in silence. Brynjolf keeps his eyes on every move she makes. 

"Do you like what you see?" Her voice was low and smooth. It pierces the silence between them. A blush burning in her cheeks, feeling his eyes on her.

“Yes I do, as a matter of fact… That sweet roll looks rather appetizing.” 

She gives him a mischievous look. Setting her meal down, she gets on her hands and knees and crawls to the dessert.  Brynjolf freezes, he can’t look away. The curve of her hips, barely covered in the white fabric, was almost too much for him. He licked his lips. They’re little game of teasing each other was making him ache for her. He felt himself throbbing beneath the cloak. Wanting so badly to feel her body against his. To kiss every inch over and over again. To hear her moan with the pleasure he brought her. 

Allustria grabs the sweet roll but refrains from bringing it back to him. She jumps up and runs to the other side of the fire.

“If you want it, Come and get it~”

Brynjolf felt like she was using the sweetroll as a metaphor for herself.

“Gladly…” He jumps up and chases after her. She spins and dodges, always just nearly out of reach.  She hides behind the tent, and baits him into one way, then scampers off into the opposite direction. He was only able to catch her when she nearly lost her balance, swinging her arms to avoid falling back into the spring water. He ensnares her within his cloak, but she slips between his fingers, and crawls out before he can trap her. 

“How are you so fast?!” He laughs and runs after her again.

Finally, he lunges and knocks her over onto her back. He pins her arms above her head, and grabs the sweetroll, taking a large bite out of it. Smiling at his win. His cloak dropped to his sides, showing his bare chest. His legs on either side of her, successfully trapping her beneath him 

Allustria’s heartbeat quickens. He was just gorgeous.  Not to mention learning that being pinned down by him was quite the turn on. She breathed heavily from their little game of tag, and scanned her eyes all around him. The flickering light of the firepit, illuminating his alluring body. She felt her heart crawling into her throat, face flushing with heat. 

The way he looked at her made her arms weak, not allowing her to even attempt an escape. He smiled down at her. Placing the sweetroll back on its plate. He puts his hand against the ground next to her head, scanning her beautiful face. He lowers his body, inching closer to hers. Half lidded eyes full of lust. 

"Careful, or I might bite you~" She whispers.

"I'm fully aware of the risks…" he replies, in a more serious tone than she was expecting. Her cheeks deepen in color. Brynjolf’s eyes make it obvious how serious he is about the situation. 

He slowly inches closer, both hearts pounding, he pauses nearly centimeters from her lips. She hesitates, but then tilts her chin up ever so slightly and meets him into a kiss. He exhales and melts into her, relieved of her acceptance. A soft moan escaped her lips, exciting him more. He takes in her bottom lip, sucking on it and gently pulling with his teeth. He feels her smile. His heart pounds faster and his arms start to shake slightly. Allustria lifts her head, pushing more aggressively. She delicately touches his upper lip with her tongue, wanting to go further. He accepts and parts his lips, letting her in. His breath hitched and moaned. Their tongues meet and softly trace each other. She drags her tongue against his upper lip. 

Brynjolf squeezes her arms, still pinning them above her head. He lowers his hips and barely touches his hardened member against her abdomen. A sharp hiss escapes her lips, and she pushes her pelvis into him, showing her approval of his arousal. They break for air and stare into each other’s eyes, making sure they were both okay with where this was heading. She smiles at him, almost out of breath. Brynjolf returns the smile and lightly brushes a loose hair away from her cheek. 

Releasing her arms, he places his hands on either side of her face, and pulls her into another waterfall of kisses. Sucking and licking her sweet lips, tasting her, feeling her in a way he’s dreamt for so long. 

Allustria uses her now free arms, and traces her fingernails down his chest. He pushes against her, letting her fingertips explore his abs and down to the waistband of his undergarments.  His body shudders to her touch, feeling incredibly sensitive and a bit ticklish. She giggles, and kisses him more. He moans and presses his engorged cock against her with more force than before. She nips at his lip in return. Her warm hands feeling his body, brushing her palms against his back muscles, feeling the slight change in texture where his few scars are. She lowers her hands down to his hips, digging her fingers underneath his underwear, sliding down and grabbing his cheeks. 

Brynjolf pulls back to look into her eyes once again. 

“Do you want me?” He asks. Her face was full of pleasure. 

She nodded, sheepishly. 

“Say it.” He demanded. She blushes.

“…I want you…” She whispers.

“Louder” Brynjolf pushes the tip of his cock against her, between her legs. She squeaks and bites her lip, eyebrows knitted together.

“I want you.” She obeys. “I want you to make me scream with pleasure.” She persuades. 

Brynjolf hungrily crashes his lips to hers once again. She loops her fingers around his waistband and pushes the fabric off of him, sliding it down his strong thighs. One leg out, then the other. The cloak slipped off his backside, exposing him to the elements. 

His kisses trail across her cheek, down her neck, nipping at her collar bone, and down her swelled chest, finding the thin fabric that covered her.  She slips her fingers between his teeth and the covering. He looks up, wondering why she stopped him.

“Shall we take this to the tent?”

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | chapter 10 | chapter 11 | chapter 12