#au. º ( mactíre. )

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis replied.º

teen ozy vc: cute

"Here, you can have it." Unfortunately, he thought they were talking about the bow.

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. )

[caemthe]

Random hcs from my fantasy v.

cú:

wolf tail and ears :)

curls his tail close to himself when he sits down like a polite gentleman.

his fur is actually very soft because he takes good care of his it. uses special oils every week and even has one that prevents his fur from getting soaked if it rains. brushes his tail every night 100 times so, yes, it’s a very important thing for him that brings him comfort. but hair and fur will still look all over the place if he has been running a lot.

funnily tragically enough, he used to hate having his tail brushed and fluffed up when he was a child. after all went to hell, there no longer was anyone to do it for him so it became very tangled until scáthach noticed. so she took care of it until cú became a teen and taught him what to do. ever since he takes care of it but secretly wishes he’ll eventually meet someone that will brush his tail every night.

‘aren’t you ashamed of wagging your tail? don’t you care about maintaining the image of a wolf? don’t you hate being confused with a dog?’ “lmao no” chad behavior!

can go into heat. it’s not as troublesome or sexy as novels want you to believe.

conall:

no wolf tail or ears :(

mactíre usually have complete control over how human or wolf they want to look like and, ever since conall acquired that skill, he refused to ever show any wolf traits besides his larger and sharper teeth. why? he has vibrant blond hair and so is his fur. he thinks that’s lame as fuck.

in the extremely unlikely situation that his ears and tail make an apparition, he will bite your hand off if you try to touch his tail or ears. this is not an invitation to try to make him show more wolf traits, he’ll honestly rip off at least one of your limbs.

unless we got something else plotted, conall will end up having six wives and a bunch of kids, just like in original tale. they’re all wolves like him and, just like in his tale, he’s an amazing lover and father... despite being a horrible person.

doesn’t go into rut, but could be affected by a (canidae) partner going into heat if exposed to their pheromones for an extended period of time.

ferdiad:

horns and ears, yes. but no tail :(

the horns never stop growing but there is barely any visible change once adult age is reached. ferdiad has horns, not antlers, so he doesn’t shed his horns nor would they be able to grow back if they’re cut. instead, he simply die from blood loss, but the horns are nearly indestructible so it’s okay!

the skin/scalp closest to his horns is very sensitive, but not in a good way, it’s actually painful and headache-inducing. it used to be worse when he was growing up but now can maybe kinda sort of let someone else touch if he’s warned about it first. will throw you like a football if you suddenly go for it. but, on the other hand, you can scratch and touch his ears, he does like that.

his appearance has been greatly affected by the magic contamination and corruption of the land. his hair is black when it was supposed to be blond. his horns are black when they were supposed to be the color of bone. he’s paler and his eyes lost its shine. if the land is purified, over the years, his hair and other traits will return to how they used to be but his horns will always stay black.

doesn’t adorn his horns with anything but, at least, he keeps them shiny... after being pestered about it for long enough.

can go into rut and he’s very annoyed about it.

emer:

unfortunately, leannán sidhe have no special physical traits :(

can’t tell you for how long she has been alive since she doesn’t perceive time as others nor does she age in a constant and lineal manner. her kind could spend 500 years with the same appearance and mental age, and then choose to grow and age just like a human. the reason why many think the aos sí (the benevolent or morally grey fae) are playful and have a child-like attitude is because there are far more children than adults so there’s a higher chance to encounter a kid aos sí than an adult one. such is not the case for the ‘evil & dangerous’ fae, aka the ones who actively harm and kill to survive.

she’s very well-adapted to human society now and wouldn’t try to play to a ‘prank’ on someone unless they’re an old friend she has known for a long time. loves bustling cities but still hates smoke, probably why she still doesn’t know how to cook.

could actually waste away and die from lovesickness, the ‘curse’ of the leannán sidhe isn’t a one-way street.

#hc. ° ( shooting star. ) #cu. ° ( lancer. ) #au. º ( rubedo. ) #conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #ferdia. ° ( avenger. ) #au. º ( tarbh. ) #emer. ° ( assassin. ) #au. º ( leannán. ) #/ long post #/ I ENDED UP WRITING WAYYYY MORE THAN INTENDED! but anyway have some VERY IMPORTANT fantasy hcs

[caemthe]

@maljefe​ said.º

"Wai- Glady! Bell! Stop it where are you two going?!" Completely stunned by her wolves sudden outburst she drops her weapon and bolts after the pair. Normally they only acted this way when danger was nearby, or when they found their interest piqued beyond normal levels. However, that generally was a bad thing for Loni ( or so she'd learned ) on the few occasions it had happened thus far. "Girls stop it! We gotta go back to the camp! Dinner was almost done cooking!" At this rate something was going to come and ransack the spot and steal the meat they had painstakingly hunted that day. Not that she didn't have back up rations, but she had been looking forward to a warm meal after a couple weeks of surviving off of dried meat, berries, and stale bread. "Oi! You brats! I sai- GYAH!"

Bursting out from a thick bush she hits something soft and sturdy and goes flying forward, face hitting the dirt and scraping against it. Immediately after she heard a whimper which was followed by a wet tongue dragging across her cheek. Which, of course, had her snapping up so she could grab the canine by the scruff. "Bell, what where you two doing? I swear give a girl a heads up if you're going to do this... Huh? What? You're staring at something behind me and suddenly I have a feeling I should have brought my sword..."

Swinging around she comes face to face with a massive individual. One that towered over her even if she hadn't been on her knees. Blinking several times over she tries to get a feel for him, but the only thing she could sense was the power radiating off him in waves. "... Ah, I see... You must be the reason they ran out here..." Now to hope her tagging along wasn't the wrong choice.  / Conall also for the fantasy verse pls & thank u

     One would think that the mercenary leader, the wolf with a background full of mystery and rumors of being of one of the survivors of the now extinct Land of Wolves, wouldn’t have time nor bother with playing family and the like. That couldn’t be further away from the truth... No, at one point, he had been like that. Someone that was consumed by their own madness and was fueled by a rage with no direction and their bloodlust. A creature could hardly be considered human, only a mad beast that thirsted for vengeance and took as many lives as possible. That kind of monster was, still is, Conall Cernach. But as the years passed and the corruption wore off the mactíre, he began to ‘calm down’, no longer a ticking bomb that could explode and destroy all around him at any moment. He still was an awful man, the worst this earth allowed to exist, but he wasn’t made of thorns nor was he void of a heart.

     His closest subordinates and comrades weren’t surprised when one of his kids would interrupt a meeting to spend time with him, but others would look at him like he suddenly grew a second head or think that they were imagining things. He couldn’t care less at this point. So, when his eldest walked into the main tent where he was having a strategic meeting regarding the next big mission, Conall simply informed everyone present that they would be taking a break for a couple hours. Didn’t even bother rolling his eyes in annoyance when the newest member gasped as if they had seen a ghost. He had more important things to do like, for example, ask his son what they wanted to do.

     His eldest was already two years old and relying on their tail for balance, pretty normal for their age but they had been wanting to practice more and show how much control they had over their motor skills and coordination. The father and son went deep into the forest so the pup wouldn’t be worried about others staring while they practiced walking (and falling) over a tree trunk and other exercises. Conall always stayed close so he would be able to catch them in time in case they tripped over air. It was supposed to be like any other day in which he got to see his kids grow and then take them back to the camp after they fell asleep. But his plans were changed once he sensed two beasts... no, two wolves running towards him. There were a bunch of small camps and travelers nearby so he didn’t think much of it before. After all, one needed to have lots of guts or simply have a death wish to try to attack the mercenary leader when he was with one of his kids.

     The side of his mouth twitched, twisting and lifting into something that could only be described as the smile of a man that only wished for blood. But it quickly softened when his son tripped again and he had to grab them so they wouldn’t fall. He didn’t bring any weapons with him so things could get really messy if he didn’t think of a way to ‘convince’ the approaching stranger to go away or got around snapping their neck before they could react. Conall carefully accommodated his son in arms and told them to cover their ears. The beasts arrived before their master so he used those few seconds to let them know: ‘If you appreciate your master’s life... stay down.’ Many thought that he could talk to wolves but that couldn’t be since animals don’t talk like humans do. They communicate and make themselves understood, and that’s what he could do too.

     Conall began to wonder if he was worrying for nothing when this ‘assassin’ actually bumped onto him. He couldn’t sense bloodlust or desire to kill from the woman but, then again, such intentions weren’t impossible to hide until the very last second. No sword on her hand or visible weapon on her body, but one didn’t need a weapon to complete an assassination. Things really would be much easier if he just killed the woman and her wolf companions but he also didn’t want to kill anyone with his hands in front of his son if he could help it.

     "That seems to be the case.” The mercenary leader replied as he sat down, no longer appearing like a giant before the woman. The pup in his arms still was covering their ears, mostly looking up at their father but stealing glances at the woman and her loyal companions from time to time. “But it’s kind of amazing really... Wolves usually know better than to step into someone else’s territory unless they’re looking for a fight. But it looks like you didn’t bring any weapons with you.” A calculated smile appeared on his features.“What a coincidence, neither did I.” He laughed and his laughter lacked honesty and warmth. It lasted for a couple seconds before he dropped the act and lifted his free hand that soon transformed and showed deathly claws. “I do have these tho.” The forest fell silent all of a sudden, as if even the wind itself was holding its breath back. The only one who remained blissfully unaware of what was happening was the pup in their father’s arms. 

     “You’ve one minute to convince me you aren’t an assassin risking it all for a chance to get me or my kid. Now, speak.”

#maljefe #conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ conall was an UNHINGED MESS during his early 20s. but after the years he calmed down a lot and isn't too insufferable to be around uou #/ and he has the bonus of already having a few of his many kids so there's this dissonance between big scary wolf and his cute pups #/ i haven't written about how conall is a dad so *hands over this rare conall to loni*

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis​ said.º

"You know, I had always wondered this back then. It had been a fear of mine, and to an extent, I had wondered if it was wiser to cut you away than to allow you to remain close to me." He closed the book he had been reading, sliding it to the side next to neatly stacked letters. His full attention was now on Conall, golden eyes watching intently as if to look for something in the other's features upon his admittance. "If we had become enemies and met on the battlefield, would you have taken my head? After all, your duty was to your own king and I am sure I need not state disobedience is akin to treason." His father had told him that Conall would have treated him like any other enemy to cross his path, that his held would have been claimed without hesitation. However, although he had not wished to believe this, that unease had remained that his joy would be crushed into the dirt. Little did he know it would be regardless, albeit in a completely different fashion that would destroy a beautiful country. (fantasy)

     Conall had been lazing around as he waited for his partner to finish reading and call it a day. Some of his memories were vague but, about a decade and half ago, when he still was just a warrior in training and his princess had their nose buried in books, he used to wait until he could finally ‘steal’ them for what remained of the day. Now, the mactíre was leaning back on his seat, an open book covering his face so one wouldn’t be able to tell if he was taking a nap or not. Therefore, it was impossible to see his reaction when his life partner admitted something that caught him off guard.

     For a few seconds, Conall remained completely still, almost giving the appearance that he had fallen asleep and didn’t listen to a single word. But then he was taking the book to place it on the table and sitting straight. “Our homelands were far from each other and we were too busy tearing our neighbor enemy kingdom to pieces to think of war with other countries.” But that wasn’t what Ozymandias asked. “Our technology developed for war was too advanced and exposing it to the world would’ve turned us into a threat that had to be eliminated and raided. Since the isle wasn’t even unified as one stronger and larger kingdom, war with other countries was simply out of the question.” But that wasn’t what Ozymandias asked. The possibility of war was never off the table. They could’ve lended manpower to a neighbor country that wanted to take Kemet for themself. Kemet had plenty of allies that wouldn’t hesitate to stab them in the back if given the opportunity. And he knew how Conchobar was. It would’ve been just a matter of time.

     The wolf sighed and turned to meet his lover’s eyes.

     “I did think about it.”

     He tore his gaze from them, closed his eyes and scratched the back o his head. “When it happened... would I be able to kill you? Would I be able to see you as an enemy? ...But just the thought of raising my falcata against you with the intention of hurting you made my stomach turn.” Because they were his mate, he was simply incapable of harming them. He knew that, no matter what, he wouldn’t have been able to do it. In fact, not even years ago, when his memory was sealed, he was able to harm them in any way.

     But it wouldn’t have been so simple then. Disobedience was the same as betrayal and betraying the crown carried heavy consequences he never wanted to think about. He would never disobey his king’s orders... but he also would never raise his sword against Ozymandias. He knew that... and he was sure that Conchobar knew that as well. Perhaps that was why the old bastard never interfered nor said anything about his relationship with the prince. Never proposed an arranged marriage nor asked for his presence when he disappeared to meet Ozymandias. Never did anything that would put his guard dog in a tough spot, never made it choose between its heart and its loyalty... Because Conchobar had been a truly wicked man.

     “If my king had asked me to do it... I would’ve slaughtered your men. I would’ve burned houses with families inside to the ground. I would’ve cut you father’s head and impaled it outside the palace for everyone to see.” Because Conchobar was of the idea that the loyalty of a good dog should be rewarded so it would be even more loyal, so it would try even harder for its master. Conall knew that but he had already been collared then. The only thing left to do was to follow orders and stand out to get a reward. “I would’ve been more vicious than anyone else so when the time to distribute the riches came... I would be able to take you as my war prize.” He finally admitted after a pause.

     Wasn’t that worse? To not allow the prince the dignity of a warrior’s death or the possibility to hold their head high as they awaited death next to the other members of the royal family? If such happened to him, he would rather slit his throat than live in shame, declawed. He didn’t have to ask to know that they would’ve never forgiven him if he had done such thing... But he would rather be hated and cursed at for the rest of his life than to lose them forever.

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ woah i wrote a lot more than intended--- #/ but also if you ever want to write a spinoff where conall takes ozy as his war prize--------

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis​ said. º

“You are a quite a powerful one. I can see why Conchobar sent you to do his bidding with such confidence.” There would be no duels between kings on this day. Sending a pup to attack a lion, even an aged one, should be suicidal, but this was Conall, and he had seen his strength from the very beginning. He should be offended that Conchobar deemed him so unworthy of his time that he'd have a boy kill him, but Conall was no inexperienced warrior despite the other’s much younger age. Many must have fallen to that bloodied blade. So many, that Seti's head would be sliced off quick and efficiently as if they had fought for several seasons. Eyes turned away for but a moment to look upon the guards who had given their lives to protect him, Seti offering his own silent gratitude for their loyalty before his gaze came to shift and rest upon the wolf before him once more.

"You came for me in order to gain a great reward for bringing about my end. That much is obvious. I need not be told what has you fighting so fervently when the desperation is as clear as day in those exhausted eyes.” One only fought like that when they were trying to protect something or someone (only a fool would not know who that was). To others, they would see a beast, and Conall was a beast there was no doubt. However, there was no joy to be had from the other for all this violence.

It was an act.

The King paused to allow Conall to answer or not if he so desired, his body shifting to move into that familiar stance with weapon at the ready. "I have said enough. Time is ticking, after all, and mine is running out. Come, then, Young Wolf. Show this old warrior those fangs that you bared upon the battlefield and grant me a good death." Allow him that much, at least. Whether it be over in an instant or not, none could say that he had fallen to his knees and begged. "(fantasy alt verse)

     Conall wasn’t used to this.

     Hundreds, perhaps thousands, had fallen by his hand so the young wolf had seen all the ways in which a person faced death. There were those that begged for their life, there were those that would curse him until their last breath, and there were those that would be in denial even as his blade cut their neck. So he was under the impression that he had seen everything. But King Seti... Denial wasn’t the same calmness, the first failing to mask the particular smell of fear, while the second was... Seti. King Seti was calm and standing as proudly as always. Few could remain so regal when death came knocking on their door, and when their country was torn apart as they spoke. He couldn’t sense any fear or anger from the older man before him. Instead, they were praising his skill despite his young age for a warrior. Conall was unworthy of such recognition.

     Briefly, crimson eyes widened when the king spoke again. How did they know? As if he was an open book, a rookie whose eyes betrayed him, it made the wolf too aware of how much he still needed to learn, how much he needed to harden his heart. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness in the future as it was that very weakness that put him in this position.

     ‘It’s your son... I love him. I’m aware that I’m not strong enough to protect him... but I’ll do everything in my power to make sure he lives.’ words that died in his throat and were never said out loud. He had no right. But he didn’t drop his head, his shoulders didn’t relax and he didn’t take his eyes away from the old king. “You’re a king among kings.” Such was all the praise Conall allowed himself to say. It would be in bad taste if he said anything else since he followed the orders of a man that pretended to be friends before stabbing them in the back. “I can see why Kemet flourished under your rule.” But that would end now.

     The mactíre lifted his falcata and shifted to a stance he had only used in formal sword training. “Rest now, King Seti.” And so it happened in the exhale of a breath, the precise swing of a blade, the falling of a body to the ground in two times.

     “...”

     Conall didn’t move for a second. He cleaned the blood of his blade on his trousers before sheathing his falcata. He turned on his heel and walked towards the severed head slowly rolling on the floor. Kneeling on one knee, he looked at the calm expression of the fallen king. Ever since he was boy, he had learned to appreciate the lull and quiet moments in which a person ceased to exist. Like all other times, he didn’t feel any guilt for taking someone’s life, someone’s son, father, friend or lover. But, unlike all other times, this time he felt a profound respect for the man he just killed. Carefully, he picked up the severed head of the fallen king and closed the man’s eyes. He stared at it for a few more seconds with an unreadable expression before finally sighing and standing up. It was then that the deafening sounds of war and death made themselves present, time existed and passed at an incredible speed, he was part of the world once again.

     A wide and empty grin spread across the mactíre’s face as he stepped out on the balcony and lifted the severed head for all to see.

     King Seti was dead.

     The Kemet Kingdom would be no more.

     ...And Ramses would loathe him from now on.

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ lies down o(-( #/ i've read this like 20 times #TW: character death

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis​ said.º

"It is just a minor injury, Conall." The Prince's shoulder was rebandaged and the healer who had been fussing over him had been shooed away once was all said and done. He sighed, staring at the bitter draught that had been prepared for him and grimacing as he watched it steam. "I need to train harder. My performance was shameful, and I am glad you were not present to see it." It had been days prior to the other's visit, thankfully. At least that gave him some sort of comfort. [fantasy]

     The warrior in training didn’t notice that he had tensed up significantly once he caught side of the prince’s bandages until they reassured him that the injuries was just the product of a poor performance. He didn’t even notice he had been holding his breath back when he sighed and relaxed his shoulders. It was strange to see Ozymandias so... disheartened. They lacked their usual bark and bite, something the young wolf hadn’t even seen when he won their sparring matches and pinned them to the ground. This was nothing like the Ozymandias he knew and that simply wouldn’t do. So he walked closer to the other and then he sat on the ground before them. Like this, he was looking up at the prince to meet their gaze, giving them no choice but to look at him as well.

     “...” To tell the truth, Conall really didn’t understand why it was something that bothered the prince so much. As far as he knew, royalty was supposed to excel at things like politics, public speeches, economy, etiquette and many other annoying things. The art of war was important as well but a king only needed to know the basics and lift the morale of his armies. The generals, tacticians, soldiers and others were the ones in charge of bringing victory to the country. As far as he knew, a king didn’t need to be actually good at fighting. Just knowing how to defend himself from possible future assassination attempts was the most the people would expect from their king. That’s why he didn’t understand why this bothered the prince so much. And a part of him wished to ask them about it, but knew it wasn’t the time for that. Those questions could wait for another time.

     So he leaned forward, enough to rest his arms and head on the prince’s lap. “Until recently you complained about your teachers holding back because you’re the prince of the land. But if you were humbled and even got a few injuries from your training, that means your new teacher is taking you seriously and truly wants you to learn. That’s really amazing if you ask me. You’ll finally get to learn and grow as a warrior.” Ozymandias got a good teacher now so he hoped the they would stick around to oversee the prince’s training from now on. “Yeah, sure, you suck right now and you’ll continue to suck for a while. So what?“ He shrugged it off like it was no big deal. “You’ve to start somewhere. It’s not like you were born knowing all economic activities of your kingdom either so how is this any different?” Though he could see how disheartening it could be to realize that all you knew before wasn’t quite right and that you were still far away from the ‘finishing line’. But again, so what?

     “It’ll take time but you’ll get there eventually. If you really had no talent for the sword, you know I would’ve been the first one to mock you about it the first time we sparred together.” As he said that, the young wolf stood up and lifted a hand to place a finger on the prince’s forehead. He then gently pushed it forward until the prince had no option but to raise their head and look forward. Conall was smiling. “You got this, princess.”

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #ask. ° ( delivered. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ lies down bc i wasn't planning for this to be so sweet and yet...

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis​ said.º

"Want to race, Conall?" Ozymandias grinned, gently patting his favored stallion as he watched the other's approach. He knew that they would seek them out, and so all he had needed to do was wait. "Do not tell me the 'Little Wolf' is afraid of being out ran? Understandable." [fantasy]

     The young wolf had been looking for the prince. It didn’t take him long to track their scent but he was curious as for why they weren’t in the library or other places they frequented. That curiosity banished and was quickly replaced by his insatiable competitiveness and a wide grin of his own.

     “Someone sure woke up in a good mood, huh?” Usually, any other teen wanting to ‘pick a fight’ with him would earn them a deadly glare and a growl for being too full of themselves. But things were, still are, different, simpler, better, with the prince of Kemet.

     The teen glanced at his opponent’s horse and snorted when the animal had never tried outrunning a horse snorted. It was one mighty steed, one didn’t need to know much about horses to notice that this one was a horse among horses, worthy of its master. Which meant that he didn’t have to worry about scaring the animal and causing an accident if he shifted his appearance. A last minute tactic in case both the steed and its rider showed to be outstanding opponents. It was a shame that he couldn’t bring The Dripping Red on these visits. The gory man-eating horse would’ve loved to show off why she inspired terror and awe in others.

     He stretched his arms and cracked his neck as he waited for the prince to get on their steed and tell him where the ‘finish line’ was. More of his wolfish traits showed as he lowered to a starting position and before he completely concentrated on the race, he looked up and grinned wide. “Smile more, princess. It’ll make it all the more satisfying when I remind you that you shouldn’t bark when you got no bite to back it up.”

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #ask. ° ( delivered. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ you've no idea how long it took me between choosing conall running in wolf form vs conall showing up in The Dripping Red™

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis said.º

you probably think i'm pathetic. [ozy sulking after having a spat with his dad in fantasy verse][conall]

Conall wasn't greeted by a pillow thrown in his general direction nor by yelling to go away so that's how he knew that today was bad. "I think you're a princess that is too wet behind the ears and your swordsmanship could use some improvement," the young wolf replied as he stepped closer and sat on a far corner of the bed. "But pathetic? How could I ever think that when you're..." Amazing, bright, quick-witted, beautiful, smart and ambitious like no other, someone one only meets once in their lifetime. "So annoyingly perfect that I bet other rulers point at you and tell their children that they should be more like you." Conall allowed gravity to do its thing so he fell back on the large bed.

"You... fought with your dad, yes?" The young wolf had spent most of the day sparring with the soldiers and soldiers-in-training in the palace. He had been just returning from taking a bath when he heard the rushed footsteps, the slamming of a door, and the scent of anguish and frustration coming from the prince's room. It wasn't the first time he witnessed a scene like this. "I may not be the best at giving advice but I can listen if you want to talk about it." And that was better than bottling it all inside, right? His mom always told him that and while his interpretation of her words was to scream and kill as many enemy warriors as he could until his hands became numb... talking about it wasn't a bad idea either.

these silent woods • accepting

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ oh no the upset young ozy... my poor heart ;w; #/ i protect ;;;;;

[caemthe]

Ties his hair back with one of Sétanta's bows.

#conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ and yes he feels bonita #/ im a dumbass bc i've used conall's teen v. a lot yet in all this time never gave him his own tag but now feels too late for that

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis said.º

"They look up to you, you know." Ozymandias crossed his arms, back pressed against the wall near one of the open windows as golden gaze peered out towards the training ground. "The newer recruits seem to think you are invincible, but I was like that once, so long ago." He too had looked upon Conall with no small admiration. To be so close to him in age, yet be so skilled as they were with the blade was incredible to him at the time. To the young prince of the past, Conall had been all that he had hoped he could become as a warrior; powerful, ferocious, and feared by any who so much as pointed a blade in his direction. Those were traits that a future king should have so that all would follow them, traits that he, back then, had wondered if he ever could have. "You should go toss them around a bit one day. I am sure they would appreciate it."

"Huh?" The wolf had been yawning when his partner talked. Confusion was clear on Conall's features for a moment, unsure of what Ozymandias was talking about, but it was soon dismissed once he followed his partner's gaze and looked outside the window. It was the first day for the new soldiers, all of them youthful and bright faces that most likely were about the same age as Cú. Even from afar, Conall could sense the nervousness and excitement from the new lads, probably hoping to leave a good first impression and not look too wet behind the ears. He found it rather endearing as, no matter how many times he saw it, it was something new for the man. Coming from a land in a constant war that trained their young to lift a sword before learning to write, by the time they were in their late teens, they were no different than any other hardened veteran of war. But here was... nicer, he had to admit.

"That's a first. I'm more used to being asked to go easy on the new ones so I don't frighten them. Sending your best dog to bully the new pups kinda makes you look like a sadistic king, love." Conall teased but still stood up and stretched his arms. "But I guess I really should go and say hi. Join practice and try and see the potential of each of them. If anyone gives up, then we should look into the selection process or something like that."

He didn't acknowledge the praise until he was making his way out of the palace. Only when he was walking on his own did his lover's words repeat over and over in his head. So strange. He couldn't say he ever imagined such to happen. Conall was, after all, the merciless mercenary leader that once threatened the safety of Kemet. He expected distrust and disdain from the rest until the end, but that wasn't what happened.

'They look up to you, you know.'

Damn, how was he supposed to accept that with a straight face? He never signed up to look after a bunch of starry-eyed pups. Making him get attached and want to see the growth of the new lads... Seriously, he never asked for this mentor-like bullshit role... he loved it.

'The newer recruits seem to think you are invincible, but I was like that once, so long ago.'

And who gave Ramses the right to be so endearing out of nowhere, huh? Indeed, he remembered how that young prince would look at him in awe, how he liked to show off and try harder every time just so he could see those golden eyes shining in his direction. Ugh, he was going to kiss their face a hundred times after he was done tossing around the new soldiers.

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #ask. ° ( delivered. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #post. º ( beta. )

[caemthe]

I forgot to add some of Cethern’s verses so here’s two quick ones.

Nickname: Deadman Occupation: Private devil hunter Tag: au. º ( deadman. )

Cethern has a contract with the Mutilation devil, a primal devil. Touching a target with the palm of his hand will result in the target being cut into pieces (like sushi, from head to toe) but unable to die until he stops using the skill granted. A similar effect works on him as he can be torn to pieces and not die (but he’s not immune to bullets). He paid with half of his life, his sanity, his survival instinct, and his ability to process painkillers and sedatives for the contract.

Why did he become a devil hunter? To summarize, for the money. Cethern used to be a stunt rider until he had a serious accident that required multiple surgeries and therapy. During his recovery he developed a painkillers addiction and later substance abuse. He became a devil hunter to pay off his massive debt from the hospital and drug addiction. He’s fine tho! Likes to joke and say that this kind of messy work fits him like a glove, and much better to go out throwing hands with a devil than under a bridge. Life’s good!

Species: Fear gorta | Man of hunger Type: Wandering monster Tag: au. º ( fear gorta. )

A phantom of hunger that resembles an emancipated human, a shambling zombie... man of hunger, death-walker, undead, ghoul, zombie, you name it! Cethern doesn’t really care but he used to be a mactíre before everything went to hell and he woke up like this. Technically, he shouldn’t be more than a mindless fear gorta, but probably because of his sheer stubbornness or because he’s lucky like that, he retained his sanity... some of it.

His appearance is a mesh between that of his late wife and himself. He doesn’t feel pain anymore but, like any fear gorta, he gets overridden by an agonizing hunger at times. Categorized as a monster and dangerous creature to all living beings, He can’t really enter villages or towns since people tend to run away horrified or chase after him with torch in hand. That’s why he hasn’t made any attempts to leave he false forest that connects the island to the mainland. Shit gets boring tho...

#cethern. º ( ego. ) #hc. ° ( shooting star. ) #au. º ( deadman. ) #au. º ( fear gorta. ) #/ i lift cethern like simba. he's my blorbo #/ 'is cethern ok' yes he's just a funky little guy that makes absolutely no sense and makes you smile whenever he comically loses a limb

[caemthe]

so i’m pretty sure everyone already knows that i really like how conall, despite being the sadistic bastard with a taste for beheading his enemies, was a loving husband to his wives and a good father for his children. and that doesn’t change in his modern and fantasy verse. but the latter is one i’ve been thinking about lately because of conall’s wolf side and how wolves are invested in taking care of their pups and how they will even adopt others that are not their own. and while conall refuses to show even the bare minimum of his wolf side, he's not immune.

anyways, conall in his fantasy verse usually starts in a not very good mental state due to his anger and trauma to losing his homeland and everyone in an unexplained disaster, but the more time passes, the more grounded and level-headed he becomes. and while at the beginning he’s too consumed by his rage to think of having a family, it actually really is something he would like, something he would eventually think about, consider and build. and would do him well since his mind wouldn’t be set just on ‘destroy’ because then he would have something to protect again.

knowing conall, he would have different girlfriends with whom he had children with, on different cities/villages away from his headquarters since the later is dangerous and no place for children. visits his girlfriends and kids regularly and always brings luxurious gifts (to make up for the time he’s unable to spend with his families). conall is surprisingly good with kids even if he doesn’t give off that impression at first since he doesn’t treat them like they’re made of glass. and, you know, maybe all this is too much information just so i can mention that it would be a really cute mental image of conall lying down while a bunch of puppies and kids with wolf traits play on top of him or try to braid his hair, put cute ribbons on it.

#conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #hc. ° ( shooting star. ) #/ gets on one knee. would you let conall be your baby daddy ghjl; #/ the fact that conall would put a huge pink ribbon on one of his daughters fur when she's on puppy form is really endearing imo

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis​ said.º

"Spar me." It was a blunt statement, one that was with no embellishments. He lifted his wooden sword, holding it out so the end pointed at Conall. "And do not hold back either." Outside of his trainer, most were hesitant to go all out against him, fearful that if they so much as bruise his skin they would earn his ire or that of his father. In actuality, his father wanted him to get hurt. To him, that was a lesson to do better and each mark meant that was a blade that had pierced his skin; a blade that could kill him if he . Alas, the soldiers were anxious and the young nobles who strutted about acting as if they were skilled swordsmen were well, lacking. They too would never spar him seriously either out of that same fear of future retaliation from the prince.

     Conall stares into the prince’s eyes, grinning wide once he spots the determination melting the gold, making it shinier than ever before. His plan had been to steal the prince once they were done with their training. But rather than experience, it seemed that all the prince got was frustration. It was understandable, how was one supposed to take sparring match seriously when all they had were toy swords? But rather than say that out loud, the young wold simply grabbed the other end of the wooden sword, and shattered it as he closed his fist, splinters flying every direction.

     They had no need for kids toys that would shatter the moment they start getting serious. So, instead, he returned with training weapons made of steel, the type that soldiers used when they trained. They were almost the same as a regular sword, but the blade had not sharpness to it, a hit from it was meant to hurt, but it would not slice a person in half. “You’ll have better luck asking an assassin to hold back.”

     Their first match finished almost as soon as it started. He waited for his chance, waited for Ozymandias to think they could strike first. One step, two steps, the sword is raised, and there’s so many openings he can use to his benefit. Conall chooses the simpler one and, with one step forward, the swords of the prince and warrior clash. But it’s only for a second as Conall’s strength and the powerful impact send the prince’s sword flying away from their hand. But it’s not over. A battle is never over until someone’s head have been cut off. So, in the time the prince’s gaze followed their weapon, Conall invaded their personal space, the coldness of steel pressing against the prince’s neck.

     “Oi, oi, oi, don’t go losing your grip now. That’s one laughable way to get yourself killed.”

     I was their second match and it took him a few seconds longer to push the prince to the ground. The steel of his blade was buried on the ground, next to the other teen’s face. He had to give them some recognition, rather than looking upset for the abysmal difference in strength and skill, Ozymandias looked even more determined to improve than mere moments ago. “Tightening your grip doesn’t mean you have to be so stiff. The enemy won’t wait for you to make sure you’re keeping a good posture. Don’t think too much.”

     The matches between the teens dragged until the sun began to paint the skies orange and red. It would soon be time to wrap things up, but before they could start their last match, Conall proposed, “Princess, you can get much stronger when something that is dear to you is on the line. Your homeland, your family, your comrades, your pride, it doesn’t matter what it is as long as it’s something you wanna protect with your life. So how about this? If you land one hit on me, I’ll change into my wolf form for as long as you want. I’ll even let you brush my tail and play with my ears all you want. But if I manage to knock the blade off your hand again, you’ll have to kiss me in from of everyone when it’s the time for my homeland’s delegation to go.”

     But a few seconds into the sparring match, Conall hit the sword on the prince’s hand with such strength that the steel broke near the handle, flying out of the arena and landing on the ground. Again, Conall was grinning wide. It seems that his ‘princess’ will be making more than a few servants and nobles gasp in surprise when it’s the time to return to the Land of Wolves.

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #ask. ° ( delivered. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ this got way longer than i was hoping for sdfghjkl

[caemthe]

F A N T A S Y   V E R S E.

THE LAND. magic runs deep from the roots of trees to the wind in the highest hills. it creates, it destroys, it punishes and it gives blessings to those who deserve it. volatile, ever-changing, the one thing all can be certain of is that nothing is certain and nothing stays the same. maybe that’s why the small but ancient kingdom of the land of wolves had to fall. a catastrophic event few dare whisper about so that the same luck isn’t brought to their homeland. due to the vastness of the disaster and the fear of getting too close to the polluted land, very little is known about what actually happened. they say it rained blood, that the air turned poisonous and the land became sterile. and their people? they say that those who didn’t turn to dust, turned into monsters and that’s the reason why the number of monster attacks on the colliding kingdoms have increased. they say that the entire population was wiped out and that the few survivors are too afraid or ashamed to lift their head again. regardless of the rumors surrounding the disaster, the impact it left on other kingdoms was nearly critical: restrains on magic usage, relationships between countries have strained, borders left unattended, now easier to overtake by monsters, trade and traveling isn’t what it used to be.

CONALL. it’s strange that once he could’ve been considered nobility or that he would’ve been the next in line to the throne if King Conchobar and the king’s sons passed away or declined the throne. conall wasn’t built for council reunions, staying in one place and making decisions for people he honestly didn’t care much about. no. he was built for the battlefield and the brutality of war. seeing life drift away from his enemy’s eyes, watching crimson drip down his hands and the scent of iron and rain in the air, that’s where he had always belonged, that’s where he felt more at peace, that was home. he began killing enemy warriors ever since he first picked up weapons and, while his brutality wasn’t encouraged, his prowess was praised and a blind eyes turned on the path of corpses he left with the years.  

how nice it would’ve been if conall had been between the many that passed away on the doomsday of The Land of Wolves. but either the gods laughed at the people’s suffering or conall was too stubborn to die like any other man but he survived. a year after the catastrophe, word would reach the various kingdoms that an army of criminals and mercenaries had taken control over the borders and main trading routes of the north. the captain of said army was a brutal man, rumored to be a survivor of the wolves’ doomsday, rumored to be Conall Cernach, the worst of them all.

tag;; au. º ( mactíre. )

     quick note about the various fantasy races in this fantasy setting: there are a lot, A LOT, of them. each kingdom is home to overlapping and multiple of them. while plenty could be grouped in larger groups like people with beast traits, earth-aligned, of the night, etc., there are plenty of differences that makes each fairly unique. for example, people with wolf blood are fairly common all over the world but how their traits show can be immensely different between colliding kingdoms but also almost indistinguishable between distant countries that never made contact with each other. 

MACTIRE. ( wolf, son of the country ) mactíre were an ancient and predominant race of people with wolf blood from The Land of Wolves ( therefore where the kingdom’s name came from ) that are now considered to be extinct. they were known for being one of the wolf races with the most wolf traits and strengths: enhanced agility, strength, reflexes, speed, stamina, endurance, durability, night vision, compass sense, environmental adaptation, predator instinct, and yes! they could alter their body to look more like wolves or completely turn into one. rationality and intellect weren’t affected by the shape they took but human speech wasn’t possible in a 100% wolf form. since mactíre have complete control over their wolf traits, they could choose to look as humanly or beast-like as possible, but the majority kept a few beast-like traits (larger canines and claws, ‘wolf eyes’) out of respect or pride for their origins. Only toddlers and smalls kids were the ones who were often seen with tails or in wolf form ( for balance or simply because it was fun for them ).

despite what colliding territories now believe, the mactíre wasn’t a dominant and cruel race, but because the royalty had been run by mactíre for generations and took care of all external affairs, they had a bad reputation. needless to say, the disputes, wars and widely known cruelty of King Conchobar and Queen Medb did the land no favors for their image. finally, fomorians, selkies, daoine maithes, merrows and glaistigs didn’t have it easy trying to make other people understand that yes, they indeed came from The Land of Wolves.

Conall’s particularities: he chooses to show very little wolfish traits on his physical appearance but often makes use of his strengths as a mactíre. he doesn’t like using his wolf form, hasn’t since the disaster. like many other people with wolf blood, he loathes being called a werewolf. werewolves are monsters with no rationality, product of curses or being bitten by one. death is to be expected if you call conall a werewolf or any other variant of the word.

#hc. ° ( shooting star. ) #conall. º ( berserker. ) #conall. º ( rider. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ long post #/ i was gonna add cu's fantasy verse here too but my brain stopped working. rip.

[caemthe]

     The second thing he noticed after the presence of the woman and her dangerous pet was the lack of fire in the cave. It didn’t make any sense to him and it made much less sense to his freezing limbs, but where was he supposed to find wood to burn in this snowstorm? So he simply stepped inside, looking around and shaking the snow off his hair and clothes. It was the first time he walked in this place but the way he acted didn’t make it look that way.

     Laughter left his mouth, the cold making his lungs ache and his lips numb but it wasn’t as bad as moments ago. “Damn, do I look like some kind of bright-eyed adventurer to you?” Their eyes met and the mactíre offered a wide, almost mocking, grin. “But regarding your question, dragons have long gone extinct. All that remains are rumors and urban legends. Only an idiot would risk turning into a popsicle for dubious tales that are only meant to attract tourists.” It was then that his gaze fell on the snake that accompanied the woman. Didn’t those do badly in these weather conditions? Well, at least not the one waiting for him to do the wrong it seemed.

     “I’m sure the extreme terrain is what mostly cuts the travelers lives short and maybe there are some blizzard monitor lizards that have taken the top of this place as their home. Far more realistic than some mythical creature living up there, right?” It was cold, awfully cold, but not deadly cold anymore. It seemed he had barely escaped death again. “You don’t look like an adventurer either. A researcher perhaps?” / @koorinohebi​ ( cont )

#koorinohebi #conall. º ( berserker. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ i hope you don't mind me turning it into a thread uou

[caemthe]

@ardenssolis​ said.º

He pressed close to Conall, soaking up his heat and presence the same way one would a patch of sunlight. It was in the middle of the night, late enough that guards were no doubt struggling with their shifts as the hours passed. Ozymandias' mind was still groggy from sleep, and it was perhaps for that reason such words soon began to leave his lips. "I do not know what I would do if I ever lost you." He would have to go on, but oh how hard that would be. There was no other in this world he trusted and loved as much as this man (this man whom many feared and still feared). How painful it had been back then, when he thought that Conall had died. How painful it had been when they met again, only to be seen as another 'pretty face' to be offered to that vicious wolf with the soulless blood red eyes. To not be remembered, to have been forgotten when he had never forgotten them; could not forget that ridiculous boy who fearlessly and unapologetically was true to himself and his wants. (fantasy)

     Conall considered himself to be a light-sleeper. Well, in reality, there were plenty of issues surrounding his sleep (or lack of it) but none of that was important at the moment. Before, when he was no different from a rabid beast, waking up at the quietest sound or movement had proved to be quite convenient, being able to wake up before an assassin pretending to be a lover for the night sank a knife in his chest. Getting to see the realization and horror on his enemies’ faces before he turned the tables on them was one of the reasons why he didn’t bother much in doing a background check on those whose wished to tag along for the night. 

     Now, there wasn’t much reason to be so wary while he slept, but his habit of waking up at the quietest of sounds and movements didn’t disappear. He didn’t mind it. Waking up for a few seconds to see that his love had snuggled closer while they were asleep was a little treasure he wouldn’t trade for anything. Conall didn’t have to say anything to know that Ozymandias would vehemently deny ever doing something ‘cute’ like that so he never mentioned it. It was a little secret only he was aware of.

     Therefore he was momentarily caught off guard when his partner spoke. Conall wondered if they were aware that he was awake as well or this was meant to be something he wasn’t meant to hear, even if they were ‘talking’ to him. But, oh how he wanted to embrace them as tight as he could, kiss away the worries plaguing their mind. He really was a fool, wasn’t he? To think that all that happened was left in the past, a dark episode in their lives. Even if all was forgiven now, even if he had no memories of his little sun at the time, even if it hadn’t been ‘intentional’, he had made his love suffer an inmensurable amount.

     Not once, not twice, but thrice he had hurt them, the last being as fresh as the pain he still sometimes felt in his scarred neck. And what reason did the have for that other than to hold onto his selfish pride? Really, he had already lost everything against his will once so how could he foolish enough to willingly risk it all for a meaningless victory?

     There was no point in cursing at his past self nor wishing for things to have gone differently.  

     As his partner's heartbeat and breathing began to slow down, Conall broke his silence and  held them as tightly as he could before they could fall asleep once again. He could feel their body tensing, maybe surprised that he had been awake all this time. Conall pulled back slightly, letting his weight rest on his elbows as he looked at his partner’s features. As endearing as it was to see their cheeks heat up, this was no time be to be teasing them.

     “I know my words don’t hold much value but I swear I will never put you in a position where you’ll need to think of that possibility again.” His voice was hoarse and he looked tired, but Conall was speaking with the same conviction the mactíre had when he swore to protect his lover. And while it was true that nobody could predict what would happen in the future, he could swear to never put at risk the life he had built with Ozymandias. “Little pulse (of my heart), you’re my everything, the greatest treasure I could ever ask for. And yet I’ve made you suffer. I really am an idiot, you can tell me that as many times as you want, but if there’s anything I can do to right my wrongs...” He will do it.

#ardenssolis #conall. º ( berserker. ) #ask. ° ( delivered. ) #au. º ( mactíre. ) #/ they're married your honor #/ you've NO IDEA how much i wanted to just write husband instead of lover or partner ahhhhhh