#Moonlit Maiden

[brontes]

Do you have any New Years resolutions?

I actually don’t really do New Year’s resolutions. I find that if I actually mean to change something, I need to start now and not wait until an arbitrary start date. THAT SAID, there’s a lot coming in the new year so a goal of mine is to focus on keeping my feet grounded in the midst of newness (which includes but is not limited to: larger house project’s & maintenance, still learning the ins and outs of marriage, and, supposing now is as good a time as any to say so, pregnancy and then a baby!)

[illustratus]

Castle Ruins by a Lake by Albert Rieger

[daphnaea]

archive moodboard for @moonlit-maiden

[vreugd-madelon]

Once upon a Moonlit Night Review

Once upon a Moonlit Night by Elizabeth Hoyt is a 87 page Romance Novella. I listened to it via audiobook, on audiobookss.com. It’s the 10.5 book in the Maiden Lane series.

Hippolyta Royle is running for her life. Pursued by hounds on a cold rainy night, the heiress flags down a passing carriage and throws herself at the mercy of the coach's occupant. Whoever this handsome traveller may be, he is her only hope to escape a terrible fate. But should he agree to escort her to safety, he's in for much more than he bargained for. At first Matthew Mortimer doesn't believe Hippolyta's story, that she's a fabulously wealthy heiress who's been kidnapped. He assumes she's a beggar, an actress, or worse. But once his new travel companion washes the mud from her surprisingly lovely face, and they share a breathtaking kiss, there is no turning back.

I rate this book 3.5/5 stars.

To be honest, it has only been a few days since I read this book and I already can’t remember shit from this novella. Maybe because it was so short and via audio.

What I do remember is that the characters were decent and I like the growth that Hippolyta shows, especially near the end. I won’t spoil anything but give it the quick 4 hours read (at 1x speed) and you’ll understand. However I know for certain that I won’t continue with any other books within this series because they’re not for me.

Do you have any questions? Or maybe some recommendations? Send me an ask here on Tumblr or tweet me.  If you wish to support me, you can buy me a coffee! Or even buy my debut fantasy novel, The Mending Road.

[casuallyanidiot]

yandere vampire whos a total sweetie most of the time, but loses his mind whenever youre bleeding?

This is so interesting and fun! Make it Victorian and it's extra yummy.

Vampire in the Garden

[Yandere M. x Gn reader] tw. noncon, blood, MDNI Nfsw under the cut 1.6k words

You're annoyed and yet flattered to have such a suitor. He's the mysterious marquis who hardly attends social gatherings, and yet he appeared in your garden near nightly. How scandalous!

But he managed to endear himself to you despite the odd visiting hours, and you found yourself waiting up later and later into the evening to greet him. His ashen skin shone even when the moon was new, and he had such a charming smile upon his visage that you found it hard to refuse him.

The marquis sent you gifts often. Flowers from his personal greenhouse, suits and gowns tailored to your form, books that you expressed interest in reading in passing from your nightly chats, and small trinkets and gems would arrive the morning after you awoke. It was truly flattering, and you felt your heart flutter softly each time you graze fingertips now.

You asked him to attend a ball with you, and he did. It caused quite the stir when the wealthy, reclusive man steps into the grand hall only moments after the sun set. He smiled, and you returned the gesture. You could hardly pay attention to the murmurs of the crowd when he had so quickly whisked you away onto the dance floor. He was so beautiful under candlelight that you were left breathless. It was almost unfair how his dark eyes could sparkle with such golden intensity when they looked at you.

He pulled you aside to a moonlit balcony after the music died down, and he slipped a ring on your finger.

"I would be delighted if you would so deign to have me as your husband, my dear," He murmured as if he was a man begging for food, for the right to have something needed to live. He clutched you to his chest in a manner so intimate that you wondered how either of you had ever managed to stay so far apart before. It was quite improper of you at the time, yet you answered not with words to his query but instead a passionate meeting of the lips.

You were married shortly after.

It had been a grand yet private affair, and your things were boxed and packaged, loaded into a carriage, and you were taken deep into the countryside where your new spouse's estate resided. You weren't used to being so isolated from people, and it was odd getting used to living outside of city life, but you weren't one to complain.

Living with Victor, your husband, was smooth and sweet. You found that he tended to sleep during the day and dine, work, and pamper you with affection once the sky streaked orange and dark navy blues. He was truly ecstatic to have you, and you found that you were settling nicely into this odd, nocturnal routine.

You tried not to think about the small, odd things that you found cropping up, though. Servants whispered in the halls about shadows that seemed to linger longer than they should. Gossip surely. Victor also sipped from crystalline wine glasses at almost every supper, and you got the faintest whiff of iron from them.

"Darling, I'm curious. You seem to enjoy your drink quite much," You mentioned one evening, and he seemed to freeze and then bashfully hang his head.

"My dear, I am afraid to say that this is far too harsh and offending for your delicate lips," He teased, and you dropped your curious queries in favor of giggling like a young maiden.

Nothing was out of place until one night, when the stars shone brightly upon your rather scantily clad self. You relaxed within the gardens, enjoying the crisp night air. The roses were in full bloom, a brilliant white shade covered the flower beds. It resembled a snowy field, peaceful and fragrant. You hummed a soft tune as you reached down to pick one of the full, unfurled blooms.

"Ow!" You cried out and hissed softly. "Oh... you fiendish little thing," You sighed and glared at the rose which had been painted with a flash of vibrant scarlet from your blood. How foolish you had been. Of course they would have thorns. Now your poor little finger was bleeding freely and staining your formerly pristine nightgown. You clutched your injured hand to your chest and turned to walk back into the manor to tend to the wound when you spotted him.

His face was downcast, shadowed and hidden from you. His shoulders were hunched, and you blinked in confusion.

"Love? Victor?" You called out to him, your pain forgotten momentarily. He was trembling, and you furrowed your brows. Whatever had possessed him to see him so... eerie? You approached him quickly, your hand cradling his face to bring it into the light.

It was then you saw his expression in all his glory.

Victor's fangs were on full display, drooling and snarling your name against the empty night. His golden eyes seemed to glow unnaturally, and you stepped back in shock.

"V-victor?" You squeaked out, unsure of whether or not you should me scared when his full blown pupils dilated and focused on you.

"Oh darling..." he half moaned as he shuddered in your arms. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest when you felt the razor sharp pinpricks of what you could only assume were claws poking into your shoulders when he gripped you far too tightly. Your lips parted in quivering terror, and all of a sudden, he was sinking his teeth into your exposed neck.

You screamed, but no one was there to help you from the man you wed.

Victor, sweet and gentile, was a beast. He shoved you into a nearby rosebush, and you sobbed as he tore your nightclothes from your trembling body. Never in the months you had been courting would you have ever imagined that he could be so brutish. Tears welled in your eyes, and the blood from your finger was smeared across his face from where you had tried to push him off of you.

Scratches littered your body, and you clutched the crook of your neck from where he had bitten into your supple skin. You whimpered as you felt the flat of his tongue lapping over the weeping cuts on your thighs. His hands gripped the plush flesh in a vice, and he spread them with a gratuitous groan.

"Oh darling, oh [name]," he murmured over and over again as he pressed hot, sloppy, open mouthed kisses to the available surface. In your chest, you could feel your heart break at the sight of how utterly depraved your lover was through the thin slivers of lights that showed off his feral expression. Through the darkness, you could still make out his flashing, toothy grin. His lips were caked with your blood, dripping like poisoned honey and planted across your legs and chest in kiss marks like it was some crude imitation of rouge.

The sound of clothing shuffling around reached your ears through the haze of burning pain and cold realization. What had you done? Who had you married? It was as if you were on some twisted mockery of a wedding night. The Victor you had pledged your vows to was not the one latching onto your neck once again. The bed of roses was that of your new consummation, and you wept as your husband stole the innocence of your soul.

He whispered sweet nothings with the grace of a snarling thing, and lined himself up with your entrance. You cried out in anguish as he took you swiftly. It was a violent affair. His slow, languishing style of making love to you was replaced by a feral, primal fucking. He clutched you tightly to him to save you for shredding your back as he thrust in you. He whispered your name reverently, and you begged him for mercy.

By the time he had gotten his fill of both your body and blood, you were on the verge of fainting and limp in his arms. Your vision was hazy and distorted, and your body bloomed with searing pain. You couldn't handle it for much longer, you hole sore and filled with his his essence, and you passed out with the white roses around you dyed with speckles of your lifeline.

When you awoke in the morning, the curtains were drawn tightly as they usually were during the day. Victor was kneeling over your bedside, his face twisted in worry.

"Darling!" He cried out and cupped your face the second he realized you were moving. You flinched from his now delicate touch, no sign of his claws, and he frowned.

"[Name]... oh my love, you must forgive me!" He said with adoring eyes and a saccharine smile. He grabbed your jaw more tightly than he ever would have before. Your entire body was covered in bandages, and you whimpered as he looked at you almost desperately. It was like he was forcing himself into the version of himself that you had become so comfortable around.

"It was a momentary lapse in judgement, though I must admit that I cannot promise it won't happen again," Victor sighed almost wistfully as he draped over your form in a mockery of an affectionate embrace. Instead it felt far too possessive and constrictive than anything he had subjected you to before. He inhaled your scent and buried his face against your hair. "You're far too sweet for me to show such restraint, my love," He laughed. He laughed like the previous night wasn't one of the most horrifying things you had ever encountered.

Maybe when you thought of him yearning for you like you were something he needed to live, perhaps you should've considered it much more harshly.

[starhvney]

would it be possible to ask for a laurance x reader where they share a romantic date stargazing? mcd preferably!

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mcd laurance x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you hadn’t been able to see much of laurance since he had taken on more night shifts for guard duty. you both missed each other's company, so he promised to come get you after his shift to spend a night with you. 

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, it's established you and laurance are lovers (canon), headcanon lore on laurance and ungrth? constellations based on mcd lore

𝐂𝐖: none

𝐀/����: idk how i feel about how i wrote this one, hopefully you still like it! idk i love the prompt but i feel like my brain was scattered writing it (also guys writing kiss scenes is hard btw)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

you had been anticipating seeing him all day, barely able to contain yourself once he came into view. sleepy eyes light up when his gaze lands on yours. 

“darling, it’s too cold out here,” he sighs, his steps quickening when he realizes you’re standing outside of your doorway. “you’ll get sick.”

your hands wrapped around your arms, the thin dress you wore not enough to shield you from the chilled night air of phoenix drop. quickly, he unclasped his cape from his armor, draping the thick material around your shoulders. 

“i’m fine.” you insist, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his broad, armor-clad shoulders. “besides… i couldn’t wait to see you.”

he sighs again, weakly giving in to your argument as he leaned in and buried his nose in your hair. 

“i’ll change first, and then we’ll go.”

he takes your arm in his as the two of you walk to his home, letting him change out of his clunky armor into a soft linen shirt and pants. before you could turn for the door, he grasps out onto your arm, pulling you forward and securing a thick cloak around your shoulders. after he deemed he had fussed enough over your warmth and comfort, he places a fleeting kiss to your forehead. soon enough the both of you are walking side by side through the moonlit streets, hands laced together.

he had told you he had a spot in mind, a place he had gone to a few times before to clear his head. as you passed through the front gates laurance pulled you closer to him and scanned along the tree line, something that was probably an instinctual habit as a guard. his hand gently held your own, securing you against him when you passed over ditches and roots along the forest floor.

for now, the two of you didn’t say anything, only listening to the faint bristling of the breeze through the tree leaves, the soft footfalls of your steps, and the distant noise of night critters. finally, the two of you come upon a clearing, the trees breaking their cover from the moon and revealing the clear, constellation-filled sky.

soft white light reflected down onto the grass and beautiful white flowers that sprouted around the small field. laurance doesn’t release your hand, his rough hand engulfing yours as he guides you to the center of the clearing. you both lay back into the soft flora beneath you, gazing up at the twinkling lights above. 

“i used to do this back in meteli.”

you lightly hum in response, squeezing his hand.

“when i was a kid, too. it’s how i met ungrth.” you look over to see him staring up at the stars with a wistful look on his face. “i stupidly wandered too far one night and got lost. i was upset at something that happened at the orphanage.”

“good thing you met him.”

“yeah,” he lets out a quiet chuckle. “if i had entered the territory of another wyvern, it wouldn’t have ended so well. a scrawny kid like me would’ve been easy pickings.”

“he used to point out constellations,” he continued, leaning closer to you as his free hand points up to a string of stars. “that’s the matron, see how it looks like a praying maiden?”

you nod. “was it named after irene?”

he nods, looking at you briefly with a small smile before he shifts his hand over to the left.

“that one over there is the protector, it looks like a knight with his shield. and above it is the wanderer.”

you watch him trace out different constellations, both ones that he was taught and others he has made up for fun as a child.

“it’s beautiful.” you breathe.

“yeah.” laurance softly replies.

you turn to see his gaze already fixed on you, gray-blue irises darting around the features on your face. he lifts his rough and scarred hand—proof of his hard training with no gloves—and brushes away loose strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face.

blood rushes to the surface of your skin, heating your cheeks as his fingers tenderly brush against the side of your face and trail down to your jaw. his thumb lightly traces over your lips, his eyelids heavy.

“the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.”

he gets up on his elbow, body shifting to lean over you. your eyes flutter shut as his lips ghost yours, breath stuttering in anticipation.

you wait a moment. then another.

“may i?” he whispers.

you grab the sides of his face with your hands, patience running out as you tug him down against you. slightly chapped lips clash into yours, not hesitating for a moment as they quickly mold against the shape of your own. he continues to gently caress your face, his touch stealing your breath away as his fingers trail down to your waist. his hand slides underneath you and lifts you closer to him, as if he couldn’t stand having any distance between the two of you. 

“beautiful.” he whispered.

the kiss breaks, allowing you to finally catch your breath. his forehead rests against yours, your breaths mingling as he leans down to steal another chaste kiss.

slowly, he parts from you, looking down at you as he rests on his elbows. his eyes drift to something above your head, and he reaches out to pluck it from the ground. one of the clearing’s white flowers comes into view, as he spins the stern in his fingers, observing the soft petals closely.

“all of the stars in the sky and any flower i pick couldn’t compare.” he whispers, tucking the sweet-smelling blossom behind your ear.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[sengardet]

Gertrude's Punishment

Gertrude's greatest strength is also her greatest weakness.

Dark energy crackled from Heidi's fingertips as she hurled a shadowy bolt at Gertrude from behind. Their battle had waged on for over two hours.

Gertrude turned and deflected it with her enchanted sword, the impact reverberating up her arms. Sweat poured down Gertrude's brow, stinging her eyes.

"You're weakening," Heidi said, walking closer.

"I have plenty of fight left in me, witch!" Gertrude snarled. She charged forward and slashed at Heidi with renewed ferocity. Steel clanged against an invisible barrier. Gertrude's mighty heart pounded frantically in her chest, breath coming in ragged gasps now. Legendary for feats of strength and speed with the power of her heart, Her weakness was time, and it was running out…

Heidi's lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Poor dear, working yourself into exhaustion." She thrust out her hand, unleashing a fresh barrage of inky bolts.

Gertrude tried to block them but faltered, her sword arm trembling. The spells struck her, sending jolts of icy pain through her body. She staggered back and fell to one knee, head spinning.

I would sooner die than surrender...

Grinning, Heidi walked toward Gertrude's hunched form, savoring her imminent victory over the once-mighty warrior maiden.

As Gertrude collapsed, Heidi straddled her fallen foe, eyes glimmering with cruel triumph. She reached down, phasing through Gertrude’s warm living flesh as if it were nothing but soft clay.

Gertrude gasped as Heidi’s hand closed around her still-beating heart. The organ pulled to the surface, glistening, and pounding in the chilly moonlit night.

“Pathetic,” Heidi sneered, lips curled in a vicious smile. “For all this trouble, you’re as vulnerable as any mortal.” She said, watching Gertrude’s legendarily large, exposed heart contract violently in a candid expression of terror and exhaustion.

The victorious sorceress slapped the defenseless woman’s exposed life. A sharp, wet sound echoed through the forest as Gertrude cried out, back arching while Heidi took in the view of her seizing and stuttering heart, thrown into chaos by the sorceress’ assault.

I need to escape… Gertrude whispered, pushing weakly at Heidi.

In a burst of desperate strength, Gertrude bucked Heidi off and stumbled to her feet, one hand clutching at the quivering muscle protruding obscenely from her chest. She tried to run, but after only a few staggering steps, Gertrude collapsed to her knees, fighting for breath as her heart still shuddered uselessly.

“Going somewhere, my dear?” Heidi mocked, kicking Gertrude over. The knight lay helpless and drained of all vigor. Heidi knelt and seized the quivering muscle with both hands, squeezing her slick fluttering prize with savage glee.

Agony exploded through Gertrude’s body, her back bowing as a strangled scream tore from her throat. Her vision went dark as Heidi’s grip tightened. The last thing the knight saw before her blackout was the sorceress’s feral grin.

But Heidi wasn’t finished…

She cradled Gertrude’s pathetic and thoroughly defeated heart tenderly, admiring how the delicate thing still rippled in her merciless grasp, fighting valiantly to keep its owner alive.

“Shh, my dear. It’s not over yet,” she said to the unconscious knight as she rhythmically massaged and constricted the slick and hefty vascular mass between her hands. She tenderly coaxed Gertrude’s weakened heart to keep pumping, to keep circulating blood through her needy little body.

Mighty and determined as it is, Gertrude’s heart contracted powerfully in sporadic beats, rippling with life as Heidi’s motion nourished it and moved blood through its sprawling arteries. Heidi grinned in wicked anticipation, helping this vigorous and determined pulse bring life back to her victim.

“Oh Gertrude, your heart is so beautiful,” she said as she held the supple pink flesh, feeling its rhythmic and lively beating between her hands as those vibrant blue eyes slowly revealed themselves. It pumped faster, more forcefully as Gertrude groaned awake.

Heidi sat there holding her living prize, feeling the rise and fall of Gertrude’s chest beneath her thighs. The woman’s body seemed to surrender, muscles slackening in defeat. But something was different…

Gertrude’s heart pounded harder and faster by the second. Each contraction rippled across the glossy pink surface; arteries taut as they swelled beneath her hands. Heidi cocked her head, intrigued by the forceful contractions despite Gertrude’s otherwise effortless squirming.

“My, my, what’s this?” Heidi mused, tracing a fingertip along the prominently bulging blood vessels.

She pressed her palm to the writhing organ, felt it strain and stutter against her touch as if yearning to break free as she reminded the woman of her situation. Gertrude’s body tensed, her breathing shallow and labored.

Leaning in close, hot breath tickling Gertrude’s ear, Heidi whispered mockingly, “And what exactly are you planning, my silly little pet? Your precious heart is getting so aggressive with me sweetie.”

She slammed her hips against Gertrude’s abdomen, eliciting a choked gasp.

“Come now, I’m dying to know what futile scheme has it pumping so very… very hard..." she said with sadistic excitement, asserting her grip on the twisting, clenching supple muscle as it strained violently against her. "what an angry little thing.” she continued.

Heidi gazed down in wicked adoration. The feisty muscle calms finally as Gertrude truly accepts her fate. This new toy was more enjoyable by the second.

Rising from Gertrude's lap, Heidi was ready for round two...

[nightmare-grass]

Odd Moon-related Connections in Genshin Lore

- Glaze Lillies and Nilotpala Lotuses only bloom at night

- Glaze Lillies may have been the favorite flower of Guizhong, who’s hair was grey/white and who’s outfit had stardust on it (she was the god of dust, so unless she was a god of stardust specifically that’s some odd things about her)

- Nilotpala Lotuses bloomed at the bleeding feet of the Goddess of Flowers after being cast out of Heaven in the wake of the Seelie disaster

- There is at least one account in Sumeru that claims Liloupar came to the people in a moonbeam. Quote: “Our prayers to the Goddess of Flowers have borne fruit. Her envoy came to us in a moonbeam, granting us life-saving medicine and clean water … …She called herself Liloupar, born of the lilies” and later in that same passage, Quote: “At moonrise, she warned us that the water from the canal may carry disease.” So many mentions of the moon in one text about Liloupar and her relation to the Goddess of Flowers.

- Seelies seem to have a moonlit sky with sparse clouds reflected in their bodies, the bright orb in their heads looks like a moon.

- Guizhong’s death produced a cloud of dust that blocks out the sky and creates a darkened area in Liyue.

- Istaroth was said to be responsible for the Sin Shades, who only show up in Evernight in the dark.

- Nahida has some moon connections in her titles, and she has white hair and pale skin, like Paimon, who has a starry pattern on her scarf like Guizhong had on her robes.

- The Goddess of Flowers built a city for her offspring, the Jinn, and she called it Ay-Khanoum, translated to English that’s the City of the Moon Maiden.

- You can link the mythologies of the Goddess of Flowers and King Deshret to King Solomon and Astarte, who was a version of Ishtar, who is the root for the name Istaroth

- The power of the Aranara is the power of dreams, they exist in the dreamscape. And with how much we use a harp to connect with Aranara, it’s just as likely that music is linked to dreams. And Venti, one of Istaroth’s thousand winds, is a bard who knows all songs past and future, and plays a harp.

- The moon sisters were named Aria, Sonnet, and Canon, literally musical terminology.

- There’s probably a connection between the three moon sisters and Teyvat’s concepts of Time, Memory, and Dreams

- One of Venti’s powers is that he can pull up memories from the far flung past

- The quest for Time and Wind has these sun dial looking things that are actually moon dials since the puzzle only activates at night

- Seelies make a jingling tune, Nahida makes a jingling tune, the Goddess of Flowers taught Rukkhadevata the “source song” which birthed the race of Aranara, and the Pari fought the abyss using the Great Songs of the Khavarena, which seem to summon pure elemental energy aligned with Dendro.

- One of the fairytales that was weirdly important to the Abyss Order before we learned that fairy tales could hold the truth about the past if it’s been rewritten/deleted in Irminsul was the Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies. I’ve already noted a few pale characters with crowns or royal status but there was also a character called the Night Mother, who seemed to be the villain of the story. Another odd Night connection.

- Andersdotter wrote The Boar Princess, her signature rose design is on the cover. A rose is also on the cover of The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies, so could she have written that too? As a member of the Hexenzirkel, it’s pretty likely.

- The Seelies were said to be beautiful pale people, and Rukkhadevata is pale with white hair, as is Nahida. Another trait they share are elf ears. Klee is pale with fair hair, and she’s an elf; from what we know of Alice, her mom, she could look much the same. Although he’s old, Pulcinella of the Fatui Harbingers is also an elf with white hair and pale skin, fitting the description. Seelies are fairies, and elves in real world folklore are considered fae, so could the Seelies have given us the elf race in Genshin? Or the Moon Sisters, who presided over the Seelies? Elves seem to be as long lived as gods, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility.

- I think Aria, Sonnet, and Canon represented Memories, Time, and Dreams, symbolizing the past, present, and future respectively. I don’t know the order of the goddesses in their roles, but I do know they had a fight and two died, leaving only one, and wouldn’t it be something if that surviving moon goddess became Istaroth, the god of Time? Maybe even Irminsul came from the death of the moon goddess of Memory? I don’t know what could’ve happened to the goddess of Dreams, but maybe her death caused the constellations that are canonically made up of the crystalline fruits of Irminsul in the sky box of the Firmament.

(If I could post more than 10 pictures I would but you have the internet, you can look up photos of the stuff I’m talking about.)

[littlestarpjm]

Mr Guo Jingming, sir, you cannot expect me to take this...

...and still not expect...

...with my yuanyi brain rot delulu brain ...

...to not interpret this as zyz being jealous about Mr Tiandu Dreamboat capturing every maidens' hearts and the possibility of zyc really liking wx beyond childhood friends being true

and then immediately follow that scene with zyz and zyc talking under a softer moonlit night, zyc calling zyz out for his now apparent will to live and mistakenkly attributes it to zyz's love for wx experiencing something that makes one falter with their previous conviction and contradict themselves

zyc asks why zyz is contradicting himself by teaching him the way to kill him and zyz points the proverbial spear back him to imply he's also one to live with contradictions because he already senses that zyc won't be able to fulfil his oath, so instead he keeps pushing zyc towards that way

[ladyniniane]

I commissioned @moonlit-boar to draw my FE3H OC Maude! She looks wonderful and fierce and I'm so happy with the result. You can get your own commission here!

Now I'm motivated to finish writing her story.

Maude's adventures take place before the game's events. She's the "Maiden of wind" mentioned in books. A far traveler who spent her life between Dagda and Morfis, she will play an important role in Faerghus' independence.

She's also Dimitri's ancestress :).

You can read a summary of her story here.

[cas-backwards-tie]

You’re welcome ❤️🫂

I just had to stop by and tell you yet again how amazing your posts and reblogs are 💖 your aesthetic coincides with mine and I love it 🥰

Awww, thank you!! >////< <3

[misshcrror]

        𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑: ──── YASEMIN's char study ;

BOLD — always applies. ITALICS — situational / sometimes / kind of. STRIKED OUT — never applies or uncomfortable with.

          𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑     𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘     :     𝐺𝑂𝑇𝐻𝐼𝐶 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸  

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 : giant feather-beds. tightening the corset. moonlit walks. killing for love. cruelty for the sake of love. love is always selfish. romantic tragedy. love to the brink of destruction. nighttime rendezvous. bloody kisses on soft skin. death was the maiden. a very strange agony. claimed by the supernatural. dreaming about your lover. sympathy for the devil. loving me to death. candlesticks lighting up the palm of your hand. a passion that wears you. killing the one you love.

𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀 : a single red rose laid out to be found. sensual voices singing them to sleep. a familiar shadow attending every recital. love waits on the rooftop in the night. two soulmates holding hands. walking down long corridors. retrieving something lost. devoting one’s craft to them. making them your muse. the horror was for love. painted faces on parade. gentle touches in the dark. revealing your darkest secrets. beauty and the beast. writing messages on the mirror. kindness conquers all. letting your lover go. love never dies.

𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄 : loving the escape. an impassioned affair. being consumed by love. meeting your soulmate. lace and silk. thirsting for the perfect romance. marrying for passion. losing yourself in the face of your lover. wedding veils and bouquets of pink roses. maddened by love. finding warmth in the cold. calling out for your love. starting at the bottom. the fire cleanses everything. hiding your passion. your love will destroy me / my love will destroy you.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 : painting a portrait or sketching the face of someone you love. meeting in secret. visions of your lover dying. clutching a lover’s clothes to your chest. love so consuming you kill them. protecting their innocence at all costs. betrayal. polyamory. devotion. flowers for the one you love. remembering the name of your first love. jealousy when you see them with someone else. love so consuming you die for it. visiting the the place where you saw them the first time.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎 : letters to your lover. marrying for love. these bars can't keep me from you. motivated by love. an avenging angel. scorching jealousy. love reborn. devoted to memory. it was all for you. going your separate ways. commit murder for me. an unstoppable hunger. death comes for us all. the love stronger eventually grows apart.

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀 : the holiest love. girls love wolves. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. violence is passion. red lips, sharp teeth. love letters in a diary. unrelenting support. getting lost in the woods. coming home to you. walking backwards into hell. revenge for my love. even death won't stop me. we can live forever. love is an open wound. too much love to give. bestowing your favor. a never-ending thirst. beauty even in death. ravenous desire. if only death had a heart to give. a mercy killing. these violent delights have violent ends.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 : childhood friends to lovers. they were something out of a dream. arranged marriages. learning to love. was it all really worth it? our guilt can know no bounds. revenge, my love. dismembered body parts. my beating heart in your open palm. your death destroys me. adam and eve. crossing the mountains. an antagonist in mourning. paradise lost. the loss of innocence. abandoning your dream. the tempest on the horizon. humans are the real monsters. my love is wiser than my hate.

[princessboogaloo]

♡The Sea and The Soldier♡

(This is just what i have written for the plot of The little Sailor!König x Mermaid!Reader so enjoy….)

One moonlit night, the tranquil sea whispered tales of a mystical mermaid whose ethereal beauty was said to rival the most enchanting of dreams. Intrigued, König anchored near a hidden cove, drawn by the haunting melody that echoed through the waves.

There, beneath the moon's gentle glow, he discovered you – a captivating mermaid with scales that shimmered like moonlit reflections on water. Your eyes held the depth of the ocean, and your song stirred emotions in König's heart that he had never known.

As days turned to nights, König and the mermaid forged a connection transcending worlds. He shared tales of battles fought on distant shores, while you, in turn, unveiled the wonders of the underwater realm. Your bond grew stronger with each passing tide, a love story written in the language of the sea.

Yet, danger loomed on the horizon. A tempest stirred, threatening to tear them apart. König faced the raging storm with the same determination that had seen him through countless battles. Amidst the chaos, the mermaid's voice guided him, a beacon of solace in the tumultuous sea.

In the aftermath, as the storm subsided, König and the mermaid clung to each other, weathered but unbroken. The sailor and the sea maiden had overcome the trials of the elements, proving that love could withstand the fiercest tempests.

And so, beneath the watchful gaze of the moon, König and the mermaid sailed together, their hearts entwined in a love story that transcended the boundaries of land and sea, echoing through the ages like the timeless waves that caressed the shores.

[neathyingenue]

Character Timeline: Angeline Jingyi Hui

Angeline's timeline goes along with Pilar's, which you can read here!

1862:

Born Hui Jingyi to an upwardly mobile merchant family in Hong Kong, the same year that London fell.

1868:

Jingyi’s sister Nuan is born.

The girls are not educated particularly rigorously, though they are taught some English due to their parents’ self-preservation. The family often associates with English colonists of a similar social class.

1893:

A Navy captain named Philip Clark meets Nuan at a party. After a few months of courtship, he proposes marriage before his assignment takes him back to England. It is agreed (not by Jingyi!) that he should take Jingyi with him, “so Nuan will have a companion” (and hopefully so she will get married and stop embarrassing everyone by being unmarried at the age of 31).

Although Nuan and Jingyi have been going by English names for a while, it’s at this point, in the emigration process, that their names become legal. Nuan’s English name is Ruth. Jingyi’s is Angeline.

1894:

After Philip’s leave, he’s assigned again to the Navy, this time in the Unterzee. He views it as his patriotic duty to go there—the Neath is where the Royal Family is, after all.

For several years, Ruth and Angeline stay at various ports while Philip is manning admiralty ships. They also stay a few months at the Grand Geode.

Angeline does not particularly like the Neath, but she does enjoy that people don’t seem to care as much about whether she’s married or not. She is particularly fascinated by the New Sequencers, and on the DL, she learns all she can about The Lore. Is it possible that humans can make their own sun? The control of that, the purpose inherent serving it, really appeals to Angeline.

Meanwhile, Ruth has several difficult pregnancies in a row: two miscarriages, a stillbirth, and a child who dies in infancy. Because Philip is often off on assignments, Angeline is Ruth’s main support person and caregiver.

1899 (1900):

Ruth finally gives birth to a healthy baby boy. Philip is overjoyed, and goes into semi-retirement, moving the family to London and serving on lightships more sporadically, so he can spend time with his family.

Just like that, Angeline goes from being “indispensible confidante” to “superfluous maiden aunt.” Ruth and Clark’s existence revolves around the baby. Surely, so does Angeline’s. Isn’t she just so thrilled for her sister? Isn’t she delighted to have a nephew? Isn’t she going to be the most devoted aunt of all time? With no thanks for the years she supported Ruth, the Clark family is happy to settle into the new rhythm of life with a child.

Angeline becomes even more fiercely protective of her privacy. She isolates herself as often as possible to study Bazaarine texts, to chase whispers about the Judgments. She’s limited in what she can read, but the tantalizing lack of information only drives her further into her obsession.

She barely even has to try to be discreet. No one ever asks what she does when she goes out by herself. No one ever sees her unclothed, so no one sees when she starts to get tattoos.

1899 (1901):

Angeline falls deeper into the Great Game, becomes a Silverer, gains access to the Moonlit Chessboard. She plays as a Red Bishop, tall and upright, battling both Black and White. No one ever helped her. Why shouldn’t she play for herself, against the orders of both Day and Night, when it is possible for humans to build their own third Dawn?

1899 (1902):

On her nephew’s second birthday, the whole family goes to Mahogany Hall to see a show by the Flighty Puppeteer. It’s said the Puppeteer crossed an ocean to get to London, just like Angeline and Ruth.

The Puppeteer’s performance is riotous and joyful. Sometimes she appears alongside her puppets, and sometimes the puppets dance alone, held by invisible strings. But in the patterns of animals and colors and movements, Angeline decodes a message. The Puppeteer is a Black Knight on the chessboard, and she is seeking others who will help her take down the tyrants in her homeland.

On the carriage ride home, the Clarks gush with praise. They don’t notice Angeline is silent. They never do. Angeline cannot stop thinking about how the Puppeteer’s lively, spinning steps tapped out the rhythms of exile from ravaged lands and hungry people and the glut of industry. How could she dance when she had suffered so much?

Angeline sets out to learn as much as she can about the Puppeteer. With everything she learns, her hatred grows more. She doesn’t understand why the Puppeteer would play for Black, when it was her politics that exiled her from Mexico. Occasionally, Angeline dreams she is one of the Puppeteer’s creations, held in the Puppeteer’s hands.

Angeline must meet the Puppeteer. But Angeline could never be her friend, much less anything else. The only thing that remains is the intimacy of envy. Of enmity. She must meet the Ebullient Knight and take her down.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Werewolf Yang having a wet dream

Looks like this is on my main account, so no major NSFW material. However, this is what popped into my head upon reading this, and it had me giggling for a few solid minutes. Let's go!

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Yang: (sauntering through the forest under the full moon light, half transformed and slowly progressing, unbothered, hydrated, in her lane, and just vibing) Wow! I don't know what it is about this moon in particular, but I feel absolutely amazing!

Voice on the Wind: Yaaaaaang~

Yang: (stops and turns her head towards the sound) Someone there?

Voice: Yaaaaang~

Yang: I know that voice. (sniffs the air as her muzzle elongates and her body finishes transforming. Her tail starts thumping against the ground) Blake!

Trees whirl by as Yang sprints through the pale moonlit forest towards the siren's call. The smell grows stronger along with a faint musk of earthiness, wild, and... food?

Werewolf!Yang: (breaks into a clearing and skids to a halt, her jaw drops and tongue lolls to the forest floor)

Blake: (lounging naked on a bed of deer pelts, propped up slightly on a rock covered in a plush sheep pelt, while a lynx fur covers her intimate parts) *smirking* Oh, dear. The big bad wolf has come across a poor maiden in distress. Whatever shall I do?~

Werewolf!Yang: (trying desperately to pull her tongue back into her muzzle)

Blake: (smirk grows wider as she chuckles and curls a finger in a "come here" motion)

-Meanwhile: In the Waking World-

Werewolf!Yang: (passed out at the campsite - groaning and growling while thumping her leg against the ground)

Vampire!Weiss: What's gotten into Yang?

Witch!Blake: I have no idea, (notices a musk in the air) but whatever it is sure has her wound up.

Werewolf!Ruby: (grumbles awake and skulks out of the campsite) I'm not smelling that all night...