#i get immense joy from gifting my villagers things

[housecow]

enough tumblr for me, agnes moved to my island in animal crossing and im so freaking excited to gift her a bunch of clothes <33

#talk #i get immense joy from gifting my villagers things #agnes is gonna have her own cute lil yard just wait #i need to redo beau and whatsherface’s area (will edit tags to put her name there when i remember) #acnh #SHINO IT WAS SHINO

[mcwentfandomtraveling]

In Pokemon Horizons, a lot revolves around Lucius and his 6 heroes...which I thought was a fun legend/myth/thing! So it made me wonder if I could possibly make a human mythological hero for the world as like...idk my own myth...I don't want to call it an oc but like a figure an oc of mine looks up to!? Imagine Friede asking you to join the crew and you learn about many different heroes like Lucius! And once you get a strong connection with a hero, then Friede and the rest will happily aid you in pursuing it!

Here's mine that I came up with!

(Sorry I can't do a long format story like I wanted!)

Once upon a time there was a girl named Alisoun. She lived in a poor village, where many children raised themselves.

They often told tales of frightening ghost pokemon, angry psychics, dark pokemon, dragons, and even fae that came from the moon.

A day didn't go by where she heard "I guess another one held onto a Driftloon too long" or "Stantler put someone into a magical never ending sleep" or something of the sort.

Kids are always distrustful of what they can't explain, the result of this means it ends in false rumors like the evils of these types of pokemon.

Grass was simple, it grew from the ground, it was part of life! As was water, and fire with the weather. Rock, normal, fighting, even poison had an explanation.

But what where these types exactly and how could they be understood?

Alisoun decided to study these special types of pokemon and learn what puts the magic in the world. She had notes on everything! Abra to Zygarde with everything in between.

The distrustful kids started to mutter and gossip amongst eachother. "Beldam" they called her. Evil. Destroyer of the peace.

She didn't mind because she learned a lot about the magic in the world.

And one day as she fell into a deep sleep, she encountered a pokemon in the dream world.

"Cresselia" it called itself.

Although it looked nothing like the tales of old.

This Cresselia had shimmering blue rings and purple fur. Alisoun happily greeted the pokemon.

It enjoyed the girl's enthusiasm and stayed to listen to Alisoun's love of magic and her hopes to share it's joys with the young kids. Cresselia couldn't help but be touched with her love and devotion. Despite the merciless slanderous name they gave her, "Beldam" as if she were to bring evil and misfortunes to them.

She looked up to Cresselia, and asked if she could share this love through a dream to the rest of the village.

And Cresselia agreed.

It had an interesting idea! To swap the dreams of the children and pokemon. To live a while in eachother's shoes.

Soon the kids came to love magic and the name shifted. "Beldam of Benevolence."

She liked it, it felt like a paradox.

Alisoun was happy that the village came to love magic like she did, however, she didn't feel fulfilled yet, she felt that there was more to the world.

"Cresselia, you turned the living nightmares of these kids into joy, I want to continue doing that! Whenever someone finds themselves in a nightmare situation where all hope seems lost, let's turn it into joy!" She said.

Cresselia agreed.

It felt immense joy being with Alisoun.

Together they traveled as they bid the village goodbye.

Together with Cresselia they made new companions on the way. Sinistcha, Jirachi, and Meowscarada.

Alisoun along with her partners became known as "The Beldam's Seidhr Coven" each of them being a beacon to one of Alisoun's wishes.

"Spreading Joy"

"Making a hospitable Home"

"Giving everyone a gift"

"A guiding wishing star to whomever is lost"

The beacons are : Cresselia the beacon of Joy, Sinistcha the beacon of Hospitality, Meowscarada the beacon of Generosity, and Jirachi the beacon of Guidance.

...

(Should I elaborate on how she met the rest of her team and what happened after the met them all? 🤔)

Also, I got so into having my own mythologic figure in the pokemon universe I literally did everything I could to get a shiny Cresselia with the pretty blue rings and purple fur!!!

I saw one on gts for a Korean Koraidon...so...I made a whole new file, played through the entire game in Korean, which is a language I cannot speak or even remotely understand.

It look me from 7 am that morning to 2:05 am the next day XD

The hardest part was Rika's interview! Geez, I used the weirdest translator for it!

Warning for weird bs and the use of a word that can occasionally have sexual connotation when used in a sentence :

Look at what I had to decipher with the weird translator XD

I used some of the English playthrough for context for the interview so I'm assuming it meant something "out of every gym you fought, which stood out to you the most/was your favorite" or something like that.

I actually failed the interview the first time and nailed it the second! XD

Surprised it didn't take me longer with such a bad translator!

But still! I was glad to get my Cresselia! :D

Now I have a playthrough entirely in Korean...I guess I'll get a Korean Ogerpon next???

Anyways! I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on making a mythic hero in the pokemon universe! If you have any ideas or already have one you made please reblog and tell me about it!!! I'd love to hear it!!!

#pokemon horizons #pokemon horizons lucius #pokemon mythology #hugs! #just a thought I had #felt like posting

[kerakitty]

Hugo Lives AU Headcanons

Just wanted to share some headcanons from my Hugo Lives/Best Music Teacher Scarlemagne AU. Some of these might become fics at some point (a la A Gentler Night), but most are just fun little ideas. This post is pretty long, so headcanons are under the break.

Hugo spends season 3 in a more humane cell. The cell used in the actual show is nothing short of a literal torture chamber. No bed, no toilet, no privacy, no enrichment, no access to water. US solitary confinement cells still provide access to bedding and hygiene facilities, and even those are deemed inhumane by human rights groups like Amnesty International. In my HC, he instead is housed in a converted studio apartment style dwelling in Timbercat Village. The windows are covered with the same (presumably plexiglass) material that the cell in the show was made of. There’s a bathroom, a bed, and access to fresh water. There’s a sort of visiting area at the front of the cell with more plexiglass providing a barrier between the visitor side and the interior of the cell. There’s seating on each side of the barrier and a table on the visitor side. The barrier has a slot like the one in the show, but instead of being used solely for food, visitors are allowed to also transfer small items (e.g. books, puzzles, clothing, a certain star blanket). Items too big for the slot require approval from at least 2 out of 3 of the following individuals: Kipo, Lio, and Yumyan (Molly inherits Yumyan’s vote after he’s cured). The first large item to be approved is the electric keyboard Song gave him in It’s a Trap. In my HC he gets it a lot earlier. Kipo points out that he was more open to communicating when they played the piano together, so it’s given in the hopes that it’ll help with rehabilitation. He also has sound cancelling headphones to plug into the keyboard because having to listen to banjo makes him extra irritable and harder to deal with.

The Oak family spends way more time together. The family dynamics shown in the first 2 seasons are mostly put aside in season 3 in favor of the cure plotline, and I think this was a real loss. We got a little bit in Song ReMix and Wolf in Wolf’s Clothing, but I wanted a lot more. Inspired by @editoress , Hugo and Kipo jam regularly. She brings a guitar and they play and compose together. For Hugo, it’s the one bright spot in his incarceration. For Kipo it’s fun, but also how she tries to reach him. He’s more willing to talk when there’s music involved, though he still shuts down at certain topics. They also play board games with Kipo moving his pieces for him. Kipo has suggested he play with others as well, but he doesn’t trust anyone else not to cheat. Song listens in all the time. Both when Hugo and Kipo are jamming, or when one of them is playing on their own. She and the rest of the Oak family slowly build up an informal sign language for her to use. Some of it is based on ASL, but much of it is unique to them given their rather unique situation and Song’s extra limbs. The first thing she signs is ‘I love you’. Lio visits Hugo in the hopes of patching things up. I won’t go into too much detail on this one as I’m already writing the fic, but Lio goes to visit and they start to hash things out. The process long and difficult, but they make progress. Lio and Song both take an active roll in reining Kipo in when she tries to take on more responsibility than she can handle. Kipo is all too eager to play savior, even when doing so puts her health and safety at risk. Lio runs interference when the mutes are asking too much of her and Song has been known to pick her up and place her in front of her room then sign ‘sleep’ when she’s been awake too long.

Hugo is injured the crash. I already wrote a fic about this, so again: not going into detail. He survives with a few busted ribs then spends his recovery with the rest of the Oak family. He initially stays in the hospital, but eventually moves with the rest of the family into a restored house.

The Oak family finally gets to live together. After the series’ end, the humans (and any displaced mutes) pick out houses on the surface. These houses are then fixed up by the Timbercats. Song and Kipo choose the family’s house together. Wolf really only cares about having reliable shelter and Lio is just happy to have the whole family together. There’s 3 bedrooms, so initially Wolf and Kipo share out of necessity while Hugo’s using the third room. He moves out a couple months after recovering and into a Victorian-style mansion in what used to be one of the wealthier neighborhoods of Las Vistas. As much as he enjoyed spending time with the family their tastes just aren’t as refined as his and he needs room for his baby grand and a proper art studio. After Hugo moves out, Kipo and Wolf still share a room. Lio and Song make it clear that they can have their own rooms if they want, but they both express that they’d rather stay together. Until they decide otherwise, the 3rd bedroom is used as guest room/informal music studio.

The family has weekly game nights. Friends can come too (Benson and Dave are regulars), but the core group is the Oak family. When they have too many players, they’ll pair up in teams. Wolf and Hugo are not allowed to be on a team together. They did that once while playing RISK and not only utterly destroyed everyone else, they started acting like supervillains. They took it way too far.

Lio and Hugo reconcile… eventually. Even after the progress they made during season 3, things are still rough between them for a while. Hugo remains somewhat antagonistic towards Lio for much of his recovery. He does try to be better, but his default reaction to emotional discomfort is to verbally lash out at others and, given their history, Lio makes for a tempting target. Over time, and with a lot of work, the antagonism fades into good-natured ribbing. Hugo still crosses the line at times, but isn’t as slow to admit to fault and apologize. Every now and then an argument will break out. While Hugo isn’t as obstinate as he used to be, there are still times when he gets defensive and escalates rather than accept that he may have gone too far. The relationship is still pretty strained by the time Hugo moves out, but having his own space allows him and Lio to find a sort of balance. They can see each other whenever they want, but also have distance whenever they need it.

Hugo becomes a music teacher. The idea was Kipo’s. Given his love of music and how good he was with the mute kids, it just made sense to her. In a rare moment of agreement, Lio and Hugo both point out that most parents in Las Vistas would probably object to a former dictator (who may have mind controlled them) teaching their children. Song eventually comes up with the suggestion to start out giving private piano lessons. The parents of the mute kids he played with back at Timbercat village have formed a grudging trust for him, so they might be willing. Hugo exclusively gives private lessons for about a year. His students love the lessons (even when he gets a little manic) and their parents come to see him in a new light. Over that year, word of mouth reaches most of Las Vistas, and the idea of him teaching at the school becomes less and less objectionable. The school initially hires him on a part-time basis to test the waters, and he’s okay with that as it leaves him plenty of time for his private lesson students. Music and band rapidly become the most popular classes among students, and the school offers Hugo full-time hours. He accepts, but only at the start of the new school year. He adores his private lesson students and doesn’t want to just drop them. He gives extra private lessons in the months leading up to the new year, making sure each kid is confident in their abilities before they ‘graduate’ from his tutelage. At each kid’s final lesson, he lets them know that they can come by every now and then if they have questions or just want to jam. Every single one of them takes him up on the offer. The whole Oak family is immensely proud of Hugo, but none more so than Lio. Lio was the one who taught Hugo to play, and it was their favorite way to bond back in the old burrow. Seeing Hugo pass along the gift of music and get so much joy out of doing so makes Lio happy and proud in a way that makes his heart feel so full it might burst.

Wolf and Hugo bond. Neither one of them is initially thrilled to have the other as an adoptive sibling, but during Hugo’s recovery they begin to realize they have a lot in common. Mostly a pink-haired sister and taste for violence, but every relationship starts somewhere. After the RISK incident, they’re thick as thieves. They both still prefer Kipo over each other, but they’re partners in crime now. They continue to bring out the worst in each other.

That’s it for now! I have more, but I’ll save them for another post. This one is already super long.

#kataow #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #hugo lives au #best music teacher scarlemagne #kipo headcanon #kipo oak #hugo oak #scarlemagne #lio oak #song oak #kipo wolf #wolfatha christie the fourth #kipo benson #kipo dave #oak family #happy oak family

[herald-divine-hell]

Could you do this prompt:

“ it's just... i'm worried, about kissing you. “ “ why? “ “ i just... i don't want you to be disappointed. “

For Alexandra? I imagine it'd be towards a crush or, at the most, at an s/o at the start of the relationship. Regardless, someone she already has some serious feelings for, even if it's not love. Yet.~

Sorry for the long wait! I hope this is good! This is dedicated to my lovely friend @yourfriendlyneighborhoodmeme. Happy birthday you lovely piece of shit!

This is pre-Inquisition, during the Mage Rebellion.

~

Worry was something you never associated with Alexandra. Charm and summer, and fire and anger. The anger was always there, blazing within those golden-flamed green eyes—dawn spilling light upon an emerald sea. Anger and sadness and shame, tangling sickly with her charm; and when that failed, flaring cheeks and soft murmurs. Never worried, though. Something hard and wicked twisted in your stomach, churning so wildly like a boat in a storm at sea.

But it was there, almost fleeting for a moment, strengthening at another. Most often it happened when she stared at your eyes—truly stared, rather than glance at either the top of your head or something else entirely. The joy within dimmed, and the little smile she would have or the hard grimace that seemed to accompany her outside of your presence would falter for a moment. The worry always mangled with the flame in her eyes, that heated passion that brought awe and strength to men and women, and dimmed it; and yet the darkness was still there. An older darkness, pained and cold, always hiding within the very edges of her eyes, away from the flame. And yet it strengthened, as that fire dimmed. You could not read her thoughts, but you saw memories flow across her eyes, dazing her vision.

Your hand found hers before you could even stop yourself. Fingers wrapping around the length of her pale hand, squeezing the sides gently. That took her out of her thoughts, jumping a little, and her cheeks flared, even as she smiled faintly. An embarrassed Alexandra was something you could deal with, you thought with a smile.

“Was the food good?” she asked, her voice coming in a soft and tiny whisper. Her dark hair fell in soft curls at her shoulders, framing her thin face, with its wide jaw, narrowed chin, and gaunt features. You tried not to think about where that gautness had come from, and why it was still prevalent, or what it could mean in the future. None of that you wanted to think about, but it still surfaced, bubbling up without any regards to your desire. You tried to push it down with a hard push, focusing on stroking her palm with your thumb. It helped, in a manner of speaking.

“Yes,” you replied, a grin breaking upon your face, and your eyes narrowing. “But I’m more glad you ate.”

That got you a chuckle, and pleasure burst in your heart at the sound. “That you did.”

Silence descended between you, your thumb never ceasing in its drawing of circles against Alexandra’s palm. A candle burned at the center of the wooden table at where you and Alexandra sat, throwing orange light upon the wooden lengths of walls, and glinting off the silver empty tankards. Tucked in the corner of the tavern, no one was able to see either of you. Alexandra had probably picked it out for just that, knowing her. The sight of a mage from the rebellion openly sitting at a tavern would warrant confrontation. Plus, you liked the seclusion of it.

Suddenly, Alexandra said, “I got you a present.”

The words bled out before you could stop yourself. “Oh? Is it a kiss?” You wanted to slam your head against the wall just as you uttered it. But you just keep your gaze upon her, even as your cheeks redden and sweat gather at the back of your neck, heart squeezing up and stomach churning this way and that.

“I...you...I mean, if you want that, I could…fuck me.” Somewhat pleasantly, you watched as Alexandra’s face grew red as the fire-lit candle, riding up from her neck, to her cheeks, and swarming across her forehead. Idly, you began to count the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and over her high-perched cheekbones. Most likely trying to ignore your own embarrassment.

Shifting a little in your chair, you said, “And if I did want you to?”

The worry fanned out in her eyes, shadows and smoke thickening as tendrils as it swallowed that lovely fire you so adored. “I will...it’s just...” She swallowed, eyes darting away from your gaze, as if in shame. Alexandra’s words came out little more than a murmur, so faint that you could barely catch it. “I’m just worried about kissing you.”

Your heart ached at that, as if it was being tarnished and left to tethers. You have seen Alexandra sad, seen her when her anger builded so bright and strong, and seen her joyful and laughing until she could not breathe and snorts erupted; you have seen all of that, and more. But the worry was something unfamiliar, foriegn, and strange. It took immense effort not to jump from your chair and crash a long and tight hug around the woman. You instead squeezed her hand harder.

“Why?” you asked, guilt building in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? Was she afraid that the rebellion would move on from your village and such your budding relationship would be cut short? You decided well before that you would not be leaving her, not staying restrained in this small, quaint, and boring town where everyday was the same mundane as the last. No, you were going with her, and that was final.

What she said hit you harder than when Alexandra had first smiled at you. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

She rushed it out so quickly, you barely caught that, as well. But as you processed it, you could not help from chuckling and raising an eyebrow. “Really? That’s what you’re worried about? That you won’t be a great kisser.”

Cheeks reddening even more, Alexandra nodded, though she did narrow in a way that meant she thought she was being made fun of. Squeezing her hand again relented the stare, albeit slightly.

Giggling softly, you rested your forearms on the table, pushed the candle away from the center, and leaned forward. “Well, I don’t care—not one bit. Plus,” you said, winking at her in an obvious show, “you’re always been a fast learner, I heard.” Lowering your voice into a faint whisper, you murmured softly, “You can never disappoint me, Alexandra Trevelyan.”

That got a smile on her lips; the softest curling at the corner of her lips. And within her eyes, in those eyes you could fall into for thousands of years, drifting upon those waves, warmed by the sun, the worries flashed out, as if it was snapped at by a whip of flame. Hesitantly, Alexandra leaned forward, cupping your cheek with one hand, brushing her thumb softly over your skin. Her eyes searched, gazing long within your gaze, glancing down at your lips, while wetting her own, and drawing it in with a nibble of her teeth. “May I kiss you, ma amour?”

Your breath was stolen in that soft whisper, and you had to fight through a clogged, dried throat to speak. “Yes, please.”

At first, it was a mere brush of one another's lips, and Alexandra hovered over yours, as if calculating what would be the best option to go about this. You were about to snap at her and tell her to hurry up, or grasp the back of her head and press your lips fully against hers. You were about to, but cannot—not when Alexandra’s lips returned, more heated and fiery as before, stealing your breath once again. Her hand slipped to the small of your neck, drawing you in as her lips melded against yours, pressing here and there, tilting every so often her head. She obviously did not know what exactly she was doing, going off instinct. But as were you. And you found you quite enjoyed the plushness of her lips, the eagerness that Alexandra seemed to be fueled upon. It was overwhelming, and any thoughts you might have, any quip or jab, bled away against her lips.

When Alexandra pulled away, it took a few moments before you opened your eyes again. Words failed to come out as you opened your lips, your mind mushy and foggy, as if a mist had fallen and shrouded it beyond a sea of grey. “That was...fuck, that was great. You’re fucking great,” murmured Alexandra, her cheeks red and her eyes darken. “Was it great?” There was a slight raised pitch to her voice.

You could only really nod. “Yeah...it was.” Maker, your cheeks felt as if they were as hot as the candle.

“Can...can I kiss you again?”

“Yes.” Grappling with your thoughts was a hard effort, but you found a semblance of your old self within. “What about my gift?”

Alexandra giggled as she drew you back by your neck. “We’ll get to that when we get to that, no? After one more kiss...or three.”

You could only remember that flash of a smirk on her lips, the one you so adored and so hated, and the flaring golden fire twining through that sea of emerald green within her eyes; and your gift was soon forgotten. To you, Alexandra brought something better than any material thing. She let you slip into her heart, and rest there for a little while, handling her trust, her pain, and her love with such care—to you, that was the greatest birthday gift you could ever ask for.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da #dai #dragon age trevelyan #alexandra trevelyan #alexandra x reader #alexandra x s/o #anon #asks #fanfic #my writing #dragon age fanfic #x reader #x s/o #fluff #alexandra was really shy and awkward during the mage rebellion #and angry #female inquisitor #female trevelyan #f!inquisitor #f!trevelyan

[oddlyhale]

IronQrow Villains AU

Ironwood and Qrow as villains in the RWBY show AU.

Ironwood is based off of the Three Snake Leaves fairytale, a story about a man who revived his dead wife with Three Snake Leaves. However, reviving her only brought him betrayal, as she lost love for him and tried to kill him with her lover. Able to survive, the man went to the King and told everything the Princess had done. She was then punished with her lover to be drown in sea on a sinking ship.

Qrow is now based on The Juniper Tree fairytale, a story about a young boy who was killed by his greedy step-mother that wanted the inheritance he would get from his father. She killed him, cut him up and served him as dinner to his unknowingly father, and forced her daughter to bury his bones under a juniper tree next to his real mother. The boy became a bird, singing about his story and received three gifts from strangers that listened. He gave the gifts to his family: his father got a gold necklace. His sister got lovely red shoes. And his evil step-mother got crushed under a millstone.

In this AU, for Ironwood:

He fakes being a good headmaster, only to reveal his true identity once the fall begins.

He is a man masked under oxygen, for his first death caused him breathing problems.

His semblance is to revive the dead, however he tries not to use it often, as it causes him immense pain and can run his aura dry.

HIs goal is to find his wretched ex-wife and murder her for what she did to him (she’s not dead in this one.)

In this AU, for Qrow:

Qrow is a bit psychotic. Not theatrically insane, like Tyrian, but he’s on a level of kalopsia (delusions of seeing things more beautiful than what they are.) He is quietly energized by mayhem and distress.

His semblance is shapeshifter, accommodating by being handsy with building his own crazy weapons. HIs favourite weapon is a giant hammer made of millstone.

He plays the ‘nice uncle, playful drunk’ for a while, under the Fall hits. Turns out his ‘drunkard antics’ were just him covering up his manic laughters and bursts of rage.

He doesn’t try to kill Ruby or her friends, but he warns her to not come for him, or he will kill them without hesitation.

His goal is to live ‘beautifully’ and die in the deepest pit of bliss. By that, he wants to live to cause harm and art, and die a masterpiece himself.

About the relationship:

Ironwood and Qrow are married (James proposed.)

Qrow is utterly in love with Ironwood, as is James for Qrow.

James finds Qrow to be the most endearing psycho he’s ever met, figuring out how Qrow has a hidden humanity about himself, as he cares deeply for music and art.

Qrow was smitten the first time he met James, immediately wanting to be his.

The two men met each other years ago, back when James was to be happily wed to his queen. He was thrown off the ship by the crazy woman and her secret lover, nearly drowning, had it not been for the single loyal servant that saved him. James’ semblance unlocked that day out of panic, thoughts of dying only fueling his semblance to be released. His body revived itself, waking James on the raft that the servant was on, but the act left James badly injured.

The servant was weeping, both in joy to see their master was alive, but in horror as to what had happened to James’ body. His right arm, his right leg, gnawed off by the active sea beasts in the water. His hip was chewed at, nearly severing him in two. Despite being alive, the only thing his semblance couldn’t do was regenerate some new body parts. And yet James was conscious, despite the bleeding and pain. Alive and pissed.

His lungs were filled with water, only a dead person could carry so much. Once they arrived at shore, finding no persons in sight to help, the servant ran out to the land to see if there was any civilization nearby. James laid in the raft in pain, waiting for the servant to return.

Somebody finally came, but it was not the servant. It was a lithe and tall man with dark hair and pale skin, eyes bright red like rubies. He stumbled onto the beach after seeing the frantic servant run into the village nearby, curiously wanting to see what the fuss was about.

“My,” Qrow smirked down at James. “You look like you need a hand.”

James stared blankly at the man, as if he were incredibly unamused. Until he replied, “are you pulling my leg?”

Qrow couldn’t help but burst into a short fit of laughter. James did too, but not for long as he was cut short. His back was killing him.

“I can get you a new body. And some.” Qrow assured. “Come with me. I know somebody.”

“At this point? Fine.” James huffed. After being betrayed by his queen and almost eaten alive by sea beasts, he could hardly imagine this stranger could make anything worse.

Qrow took James to the Whale, to Salem. After some convincing, Salem allowed Qrow to let James stay, so long as he was the one watching their new guest. Qrow agreed happily.

Qrow’s story was only filled with pain. He learnt from a young age that he was never loved by his step-mother, and being left behind by his sister. His step-mother murdered him in his sleep, cutting him up and serving his flesh like he was grade-A beef. His soul took the form of a crow, fueled by the rage he had for his step-mother. He wanted her dead, and by luck, he met Salem. She granted him the wish to have his vengeance, helping him turn back into a human. He was only a little boy still when he met Salem, growing up to look to her as his new mother.

After killing his step-mother, Salem took him in and had been at her side since.

James was soon recovering, but his rage was building deep within. All he could think of was his wretched wife, who was almost successful in killing him. She knew he couldn’t swim. How the sharp teeth of the massive sea monsters would eat at his body. He was ready to kill her, avenge himself.

James’ internal injuries couldn’t be fixed. He had to constantly wear a breathing-mask to help inhale more oxygen that his fragile lungs couldn’t take in normally. It was pain, feeling like he aged 50 years, even though he was only 20 at the time. From what he learned, Qrow was also the same age, at least feeling comfort in knowing somebody his age was around.

During James’ recovery - while Salem was mildly interested in this loner - it was Qrow who was the most intrigued. He loved coming to see James, see his progress so far. A new robotic arm, a new robotic leg, and some new parts had to be added in. Unfortunately, it meant much of James’ lower-half had to be remade, Half of his waist was not salvageable, meaning he’d have to lose a hip and his genital area. James didn’t care, wanting to be fixed already, and out of the stupid medical bed. Wanting to be strong again.

Though, he made a joke about giving him a massive metal cock, barking out laughter when he saw Qrow’s reaction of giggling like an embarrassed old woman. But, his wish was curiously granted.

As James was back up on his feet and trying to adjust to this new body, it was still Qrow who helped him. To the others that were residents of the Whale, they were surprised at how much time Qrow spent with James. Knowing the guy, Qrow could hardly process empathy. He would laugh at burning houses full of orphans, and dance on a dying man while he’s down.

But now, he was the most gentle, tender and kind to this perfect stranger.

Would you believe it when this story ends with the two marrying? After knowing each other for 5 years? Well, that’s how the story went. The two men fell in love, not caring for how crazy their lives would become. James loved this psychopath. And Qrow loved this vengeful man.

James was quick to become compliant in Salem’s plans, to start a new world and have their wishes granted. What he wanted was that bitch of a wife dead, and anybody else that associated with her existence. He didn’t care anymore if they were innocents, they had to be taken out. Feeling the same pain he felt.

Qrow had no goals, other than to live and serve Salem. To be the perfect little dog and grant her every wish. But now, his devotion turned to James. He loved him to bits, and would kill anybody for him. Already, James had killed quite a few people for Qrow, and that was probably one of the most romantic things he’s ever received. The only painful thing he could think is to live a life without James. Even his devotion for Salem couldn’t keep him alive.

Despite their chaotic life, the two surprisingly had a well-adjusted marriage and relationship. It was contentment, understanding and fun. They adored each other the same way they first met, and it seems that their honeymoon phase never ended, after 15 years together. They’d have a wedding dance next to a pile of dead bodies if they could, and they’d still be completely enamored by one another.

During the years together, the two had begun building their false identities among the people. Qrow had contact with his family, still there as Ruby and Yang were young and had grown to attend Beacon Academy. Ironwood had stolen the identity of a previous soldier of Atlas, taking their place and soon becoming the headmaster and general of Atlas. Their appearance was nothing to be judged, coming off as noble and normal.

When the time came for Beacon’s Fall, Qrow was the first to act. After the death of Penny 1.0, he had gone to murder the others in the Beacon Vault. He was successful in killing Glynda, Ozpin and the Maiden (transferring her powers to Cinder who is still in the gang), but he pretends to have no success in killing Ironwood, giving false hope to the heroes that at least one of their own is OK.

After that, he went out to go kill some more civilians of the Academy. Ruby and Yang realized their uncle was part of the evil team, and are broken by the betrayal. Qrow was quick to dismiss them as his family, skipping off merrily back to Salem.

When time passed and it was time to arrive at Atlas, it would be Ironwood’s turn to betray the teams. While cooperative and kind, Ironwood legitimately had no remorse for any of the kids. Quite frankly he wanted them dead, as well as the Ace Ops.

#rwby #au #qrow branwen #james ironwood #ironqrow #they're villains and having a gay ol time

[revengeoftheantichrist]

What Kind of Man

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Period typical sexism 

AO3

Chapter 1: White wedding

A storm was brewing.It was the beginning of summer in Southern England, far too late in the year for weather like this. Maybe it was a symbol of what was to come, an omen. Despite the weather, the village was abuzz. Your house being the centre of the commotion. The occasion was supposed to be one of immense joy, of happiness and of love. It was the day that little girls and young women alike had dreamed of, the day their lives would change. However, for you the air of the day of your wedding was sombre, but maybe it was just you, you felt like you were about to attend your own funeral. //// You sat in front of the mirror while your mother braided your hair back into a low bun. You were still in awe at the crisp white fabric of your dress. Although you had made the dress yourself, the fabric itself was gifted to you by your future husband, he had spared no expense it seemed. You still had the letter that came with the package that day, it was the only piece of correspondence you had with the man. Your mothers face was beaming with joy as she did your hair, you however looked as gloomy as the weather outside. “Mother? Do you hate me?” you asked. Your mother stopped braiding your hair and looked up at you through the mirror. “why would you think that my child?” “you’re sending me so far up north, where its cold, you know I love the sun more than anything” She finishes off your hair and inserts some delicate pieces of ‘baby’s breath’ into the back. “My dear, as women we must make sacrifices for our families no matter how hard they maybe. Your brother wouldn’t suggest someone he didn’t trust, and be grateful, your marrying a Count. It brings me great joy that you will be taken care of in a way no other boy in this village could, I can die in peace knowing you won’t starve to death.” She puts the final touches in your hair, and you wrinkle your nose at the mention of death, a topic your mother seemed to discuss more often now. “now please put a smile on your face, you look utterly miserable, it isn’t your wake it’s your wedding, so please try to look the part of the blushing bride”, she said as she kissed your cheek. You huff and force a smile. “And stop huffing and puffing, it’s very unladylike.” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes. Before the conversation could go any further, your friend burst through the door, “HE’S HERE!” “Catherine please don’t do that again, I could have pinned the veil into Y/Ns head, and we don’t want any blood on the wedding day, its bad luck”. Your mother says as she finishes pinning your veil. A knock on the door interrupts you once again, this time it was your father. “ready to go?” he asked. “Oh yes yes just adding some last touches” your mother replied for you. “I would like a moment alone please, I’m a little nervous”, you said. “well… be downstairs in 10 minutes, we mustn’t keep the Count waiting,” your father responded. They all left the room, leaving you to your thoughts. You thought about the man you were about to marry, a Northern Count that you had never met before. Although you had never left your village, the name ‘Michael Langdon’ was known far and wide. You had heard stories of his beauty and charm from the women who never seemed to shut up. Your own friend Catherine had met him once at an event in London and sang his praises for days, you thought she’d gone mad. But you’d also heard stories about him from the men, stories you shouldn’t have heard. You couldn’t help yourself; you weren’t allowed in the parlour room when your brother was entertaining guests after his return form the Grand Tour. So, you spent the evenings with your ear pressed against the door, and you heard everything. Your brother spent the nights boasting about the debauchery and revelry he participated in, with your to-be husbands name mentioned on numerous occasions, he seemed to be the ringleader of all the ‘activities’ the boys got up to. Your first impression of him was not that great. Thinking back on all the stories did nothing to calm your nerves. The feeling of dread just seemed to get worse. You took one last look at yourself, smoothing down your dress. You picked up your lace gloves and put them on. Finally, you pulled your veil over your face and started making your way downstairs. //// You stood waiting for the doors to open as the bells rang to signal your arrival. Those bells wouldn’t be enough to ward away the evil that was to come. You held your fathers arm so tightly, you felt like a child learning to walk again. The doors started to open, you thought you would pass out. “Remember, look happy”, your mother’s voice echoes in your head and you force a little smile. You start walking down the aisle, trying not to look at the man you were to be bound to. But the walk did not last long enough. You stood at the front facing him. Michael lifted your veil and you finally looked at him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked into those icy blue eyes. His golden hair, slightly curled, rested on his shoulders. You thought for a minute that an angel from the stained glass that surrounded you had come to life and graced you with his presence. But the smirk that was present on his plump lips told another story. You had spent so long gawking at your groom that you didn’t realise the ring had been placed on your finger, and it was your turn to say your vows. You looked down at his hands as he removed his glove, the bright red seemed so out of place for a ceremony like this. You repeat after the priest and place the ring on his finger; thunder booms in the sky. If you hadn’t been in such a daze, maybe you would have noticed how cold his hand was. The priest finishes the ceremony with a “you may now kiss your bride”. Michael leans down and gives you a quick peck. His lips had felt so soft, and as you turned to leave the church, you knew you finally looked the part of the ‘blushing bride’ //// The carriage ride back to your home was so quiet. You spent the journey looking out the window, taking in your village for what felt like the last time. You felt Michael staring at you, but your daren’t look at him again, fearing you may be bewitched by him. You had never been so thankful to see your front door; you could have leaped out the carriage. Michael got out first, offering his hand to help you out. Just as you both stepped into the house, thunder boomed again, and the rain pelted down as the door was closed. A minute too late and you would have been soaked. You were both surrounded by your guests, congratulating you on your marriage. You both thanked them for attending, while making your way over to the dinner table to cut the cake. You both held the knife, your gloved hand gripped by his as you cut into the cakes, you squeaked at seeing the inside was red, like blood. You heard Michael chuckling behind you, “its red velvet my dear, quite the rage in the Americas”. Your guests, just like you, were fascinated by this new flavour, but you were reluctant to try it, the nausea of the day getting worse at the thought of food. You both sat at the dinner table to eat with your guests. You ate very little, fearing you may be sick at any minute. Michael was a different story; you saw him eat more cake than a child on their birthday. He turned to you, holding out his dessert fork, “here, try some, I’m being generous I don’t usually share my desserts”. You rolled your eyes and reluctantly leant forward, allowing him to feed you a piece. You smiled at him, “its quite nice actually”. “I know” he replied and turned back to speak to another guest. You wanted to slap that smirk off his face. //// The evening came and the weather showed no sign of stopping, maybe it was a blessing and you could spend one more night in your childhood bed. But Michael had other plans. He stood and turned to your father, “we should really get going, I unfortunately have important business to attend to back home and it can’t wait any longer,” It was as if his honey like voice had your father in a trance. Your father being the logical man her was, would never let you leave in such terrible conditions. Yet he replied with a quick “oh yes of course”. You tried to be the voice of reason, “but the weather is terrible, the roads outside this village are prone to flooding, and I haven’t even changed yet.” Michael looked at you like you were stupid, “my dear, we do not have enough time for you to get changed, its late already and we won’t arrive until early tomorrow morning. Worrying about the roads isn’t your responsibility” he said. You father replied “Michael’s right, the carriage has already been loaded with your things and all your dresses are in there. Who are we to interfere in the business of a Count?” Michael looks at you condescendingly again, the urge to hit him resurfaces as your fingers twitch, you wonder why this man makes you want to be so violent. Your family walks you both to the door, saying their goodbyes. You wish you’d hugged them tighter. Your mother kisses your cheek one final time, “pull your veil down dear, its bad luck for your face to be seen during your journey to you new home. Make sure you write to me as soon as you get there, I’ll worry until I get your letter.” “of course, mother I won’t forget” you reply. You turn to enter the carriage and Michael pulls your veil over your face, “bad luck, remember” he says. You enter the carriage, resisting the urge to knee him in the groin, and wave back to your parents as it pulls out. You can barely see their faces through the rain, but it would be the last time you would. Michael sits opposite you, stretches and places his feet next to you. “there’s so much rage in you today, your jaw might hurt from all the clenching. Be a little happy, you’ve married a Count” he said. You looked at him, grateful your veil and the darkness obscured his face, “I’m making a big change Count Langdon, your county is very far from my home, and this marriage was my dear brothers’ decision, not mine. I’d like us to get along so Ill hold my tongue for now. If it isn’t a bother, I’m quite tired and id like to sleep.” You shot back. His jaw clenched, his hand shot out and grabbed your chin like a vice. In a low snarl he replied, “then sleep”. With those words, your eyes fell shut, giving in to the overwhelming urge to sleep, you face still in Michael’s hands.

Next>>>

#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #WKM1

[fireinmoonshot]

REBEL ONE SHOT / EPILOGUE | A FIELD OF FLOWERS | ARMITAGE HUX x READER

Summary: Three months after the end of Rebel, you and Armitage spend a blissful afternoon together in a field of flowers on a surprisingly sunny Arkanis day, bringing to light things you’ve been wondering about for months. Pairing: female!Reader x Armitage Hux Fandom: Star Wars Word Count: 2286 Warnings: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER SPOILERS, toothrotting fluff. A/N: SURPRISE! As a little gift for Star Wars Day – May the Fourth be with you all! – I piped out this little baby this afternoon. Basically, for those of you who read and loved Rebel a few months ago... here’s a sneaky sort of one shot, set three months after the final chapter! I had so much fun writing this and revisiting these two. I truly hope you enjoy it and that you’re all having a wonderful day celebrating Star Wars. May 4th is basically over here in Australia but I rewatched A New Hope this afternoon and my love for Star Wars is stronger than ever. I hope, in these crazy, rocky times, this little piece of writing will bring some sunlight to your days! (I also tagged those who I had in my taglist for the original parts, just on the chance some of you would want to read this since you wanted to be tagged for the original!! :))

READ THE ORIGINAL FIC – REBEL – BELOW!

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT | PART NINE | PART TEN | PART ELEVEN | PART TWELVE | PART THIRTEEN | PART FOURTEEN | PART FIFTEEN

Armitage is smiling. That’s the first thing you see as you round the bend and come upon a large field filled with white and yellow flowers. He kneels in the middle of it, the sun beaming down upon him and making his red hair look even brighter than usual. The rain had subsided for the morning and the flowers in the field that were usually weighed down with rain and surrounded by mud are thriving in the warmth the sun provides.

What really stands out, though, is the small village child running circles around him.

The boy’s mother stands beside you, a smile on her own face as she watches her son enjoying his time in the sun. Arkanis rarely ever had days without rain, and when it did, no one remained in their homes at all. You’d taken to going on a walk with her, a woman who’d become your friend over the last three months since you’d made Arkanis a kind of home, and Armitage had insisted he’d be okay to take care of her son while you walked.

She turns to you as she sees them playing. “I mean no offence when I say I doubted him before,” she speaks. “But he certainly seems to have proven himself. I’ve never seen Rhys so happy around a man who isn’t his father.”

You watch as the boy stops running in circles, clearly dizzy, but despite the dizziness, proceeds to leap right into Armitage’s arms. The force knocks Armitage, laughing, back into the flowers behind him.

While rare, and though you had heard his laughter before, it still ran through you with a beam of shock every time you witnessed it and every time you swore you fell a little bit more in love with him.

Leaving the First Order, taking your hand, had done him more good than either of you had imagined.

The boy’s mother looks back towards them. “Have you thought about children?”

Briefly, you scrunch up your nose. The cursed question, it seemed. You had, though. Both of you had had versions of that conversation, though they had ended at the exact same point every time, and you weren’t mad about it. Armitage was honestly terrified of becoming a father out of fear of unwittingly becoming like his own. He’d promised that if the time ever came, he would try his best not to be like his father, and he’d made sure you knew that. But then he’d admitted a worse fear – the fear that in some distant part of the universe, an inkling of the First Order remained. One that would, when your child grew up, reemerge. That it would do just what his First Order did. Take children from their parents and force them into being stormtroopers, or worse.

It had been hard for him to admit that fear, and you’d seen that as he said it. While you preferred not to think about possibilities like that, you understood his fear. And so you’d come to a simple conclusion: maybe. Maybe one day. But if that one day never came, that would be okay too. And both of you were entirely okay with that one day not being today or tomorrow or the next day.

Today, tomorrow and the next day were reserved for the both of you and you alone.  

Still, the sight of Armitage playing with Rhys in the field thrills you immensely, and not just because of how lovely it is to see him with a child he clearly cares for, but also because of how happy it makes him.

He’d been filled with more happiness than you’d ever seen over the past few months on Arkanis, and you were grateful for that. You knew he’d lived a life with very little joy before he took your hand, and so he took extra pleasure in the little joys that seemed to follow him around like a not-so-pesky bug on Arkanis.

You shrug a shoulder and turn to your friend – Dina. “Not yet,” you admit, lying to her in your answer but knowing it’s for the best. Prying eyes still followed you around here on occasion and you didn’t need more on baby watch. It had only been three months, after all. Virtually no time had passed. “It’s still early days.”

She nods understandingly and doesn’t seem to want to say anything else on the matter, so slowly you break away from her and begin to walk towards Armitage and Rhys, still playing in the field. Rhys has moved to sit atop Armitage’s chest and is yelling about how he’s “taken down the big, scary monster” and you’re glad to see that childhood fun on a topic like that didn’t seem to bother Armitage.

He clutches at his chest. “No, no – he got me! Rhys got me! I’m–”

“No, the monster doesn’t know my name.” Rhys drops the act for a second to tell Armitage of this crucial fact before jumping straight back into his games.

You watch as Armitage blushes a shade of bright pink for just a second before continuing to join in with Rhys on his game. It’s only when Rhys eventually looks up and sees his mother wandering a few steps behind you that he pushes himself off of Armitage’s chest – rather forcefully – and begins sprinting towards her.

Armitage stays lying in the grass as you reach his side.

“Does the monster want to lay in the grass forever?” You ask, looking down at him.

His hair is messy, just like you’d seen it many times before. He’d given up on using hair gel months ago and you’d gotten used to the messy, floppy hair it was sometimes. You particularly enjoy how messy it would be after a nights sleep. He did not. And the beard he’d grown during his time on Ajan Kloss had gotten rather messy when he slept too. It was part of the reason he’d shaved it off, and while you miss it sometimes, a slight scruff still remains that makes him look not quite as clean cut as he had when you first met him.

Gone were the days of tight fitting, ironed First Order uniforms, and here were the days of slightly baggy t-shirts and trousers that weren’t as flattering as he would have liked them to be.

Not that you cared.

“Would the princess be mad if the monster did stay in the grass forever?”

“Not at all. But she would be lonely.”

You hold out a hand to him, and his smile returns as he takes it and accepts the help to stand. He brushes himself off as soon as he’s standing, removing some of the grass from the field from the back of his shirt before looking at you.

It’s quite impossible for him to stop smiling around you.

And he still hasn’t quite gotten used to being with you always.

He leans down to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips before reaching down to take your hand again. With your spare one, you reach up quickly to brush a stray petal out of his hair before you walk over to Dina and Rhys. He’s talking excitedly about his afternoon with Armitage, and Dina is listening deeply.

“She asked me if we’d thought about children before, you know?” You mutter up to him before you get too close. “I think people are starting to get suspicious of us.”

Armitage raises his eyebrows. “People should, frankly, mind their own business.”

You nudge him gently. “People are just curious. They’re a tight knit community. There are kids all over this place. And we’re a new, young-ish couple that are without children. They probably think there’s something wrong with us.”

“Perhaps they should look closer to home.” He shakes his head.

He rarely ever thought about his own children. But only because it wasn’t something that was necessary to him right now. He had you, and he had the other children who lived around him that seemed to like him, strangely. He had been thinking of something else, of course… but you didn’t know about that.

He’d been thinking about it ever since you attended a wedding in Arkanis a month and a half ago. Wondering what his own would look like, if he were to have one. Wondering what you would look like in a dress like the bride at that one had worn. Wondering how he would look in a suit like the groom had worn. The thought had kept him up late at night more than he’d like to admit.

The both of you reach Dina and Rhys and she looks up at you.

“Rhys was just telling me what good fun you had,” she speaks directly to Armitage. “Thank you for taking care of him, love. If you’re up for it, next time we go for a walk, you might look after him again? Only if you’d like to, of course. No pressure here.” She looks at you and it doesn’t take you long to catch her double meaning.

No pressure here for you to have your own children when you can babysit mine.

Armitage, though, is thrilled. He smiles. “If Rhys will have me back, I’d be happy to.”

Both Rhys and Dina beam at that, and soon enough they’re off, wandering back down the hill and through the small woods towards the city centre.

You and Armitage hang back. From this field, you can see half of the city in the distance, but from the other side of it, you have a perfect view of the hills and ridges that cover the planet before the lake, not too far away from here. Armitage lets go of your hand just so he can wrap an arm around your back as you wander back towards the flowers, wanting to take advantage of the sun while it lasts.

Facing out towards the hills, you and Armitage happily settle back in the flowers. Armitage sits behind you, and you lean back into his chest, the warm sun beating down on you. For a few moments there is silence.

Then, Armitage speaks.

“What do you think we could do to deter those who wants us to have a child?”

You can’t look up at him, but you furrow your eyebrows in confusion anyway. “I don’t know if there’s anything we can do. No matter what we do, people will still wonder. Even though it’s only been a few months, they’ll still wonder,” you admit. “They know how serious we are about each other. Not much would deter them.”

Armitage huffs softly. “What about…” He hesitates. Never in his life had he ever been in a position to discuss something like this with anyone before, though he supposed that the likelihood of there being a good time to discuss it was slim. “No… never-mind.”

“No, what is it?”

“What about…” He hesitates again, and then sighs. “Would marriage deter them?”

You’re spinning around to face him half way through the word marriage, unable to keep the shock and surprise off of your face as you meet his eyes. “You– marriage?”

He nods nonchalantly. “Would it?”

”I– probably not, no. It’d spur them on even more, I think.”

Armitage screws up his nose and shakes his head, disappointed. “Oh.”

“What… what makes you ask that? What makes you think of it?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Ever since we attended that wedding I’ve wondered.”

“Wondered… what?”

He meets your eyes and smiles slightly. “What it would be like to marry you. It’s a luxury I never allowed myself to think of before. Marriage. One I never wanted to, one I never thought I would get a chance to even dream of. But I heard stories sometimes, heard people in the First Order, those who worked there, sometimes mentioning husbands or wives. I always allowed myself a luxury of curiosity, but not a curiosity about my own life. About my own possible wife.”

You try and look for the right words to say, but none that come to mind seem to be right. Instead, you lean up and kiss him softly and gently, letting your lips linger for a little longer than usual before you pull away.

Armitage’s eyes are sparkling as he looks at you after. “What was that for?”

“I think I’d like to call you my husband one day.”

His lips twitch. “We could do it, if you’d like.”

“People would be even more invested in us having children, though.”

“I’d get better at ignoring them.”

You’re unable to stop yourself from snorting in laughter at him. Sometimes he surprised you in his kindness and sincerity, and other times he was just like the Armitage you’d met on his ship months ago. Just as cold, just as unfeeling, but different – always with an undercurrent of warmth. This was one of those moments.

“You don’t think it’s too soon? To get married?”

He shook his head. “If there’s one thing I learnt after taking your hand and letting you save my life, it’s that life is not long enough to wait around for things you know you want.” He swiftly kisses you once more. “And I can guarantee I’d like to call you my wife even more than you want to call me your husband.”

You narrow your eyes. “I don’t know… that’s a pretty heavy bet…”

“It’s one I’ll win,” he assures you happily.

He’d had the odds against him for much of his life. This time, the odds were in his hands, and he was going to do with them whatever he pleased. This time, that included marrying the love of his life.

–

TAG LIST: @agirlinherhead, @songforhema, @sleep-paralysis-demon @midgardian-witch @capcrayon @redsacrament @wlucyw @the-dream-catch3r @petalduck @hopesxxhigh @treblebeth @burritonee @acaprioglino @rebelspykim @iwritefanficnotprophecies @ahsfan23 @erys-targaryen @tazzclegane @ibikus @seafrost-fangirl @percivalgravs @chewle @j1224 @livy1391 @drowsebaby @lafy-taffy @sleepy-blossom @memys-art-stuff @pink-pirate @sophiasescape @whovianayesha @theserenityspace @rageofpatroclus @hanyasnape @pancakefancake @esperanzavelez @shoochi @iirelynn @we-all-are-strange @empressoftheundergroundsun @carisi-sonny @fredd-weasley @kxte-p @oneandahalfeggs @watercolour-sloth @thekeywordisbalance

#rebel #armitage hux #armitage hux x you #armitage hux x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #general hux #general hux x reader

[ennayerlie]

Presentation of the Forgotten Night (sequel to the text in the introduction)

Where do I start? When I talked about the Goddess I did not imply that God, as you know him, doesn’t exist. He is real, and a real jerk if I’m honest. Okay let’s start with the Goddess.

The Mother Goddess is the oldest god in the universe. She did not create the world nor has she created human life. In fact no one knows who came first, humans or gods. Gods are magical beings with immense power who can interact white the human world, even though most of them prefer to keep contact to a minimum to be honest. Gods are not always immortal. The only way for a god to be immortal is to be believed in, that’s why some of us interact with your world. The strength of a god grows with the strength of the faith believers have in him.

So, back at the Mother Goddess, she is the very first god and therefore she is the mother of all gods. Of course she did not give birth to all of the gods, but to a fair amount of them are her children. If she’s not a god’s mother she surely is somewhere in that person’s lineage. Also, even though she did not create human life as it is she cares deeply for this race and all of the races that were created afterwards. She sees herself as the mother of all life and the greatest gift she gives to all of her children is the gift of free will. She will never step in directly in the human world to change the way things are going. She was also very clear that should any of us do such a thing we will pay dearly. Things were not always like that, there was a time where we used to live amongst men.

Here comes an interesting part of the story, you know those books you read about magical creatures and stuff? Lots of them exist, thanks to the gods. When humans were going through hard times they would come to us, seeking help and power. That’s actually how most gods found their believers. Let’s say your village is ravaged by a terrible plague that kills everyone you love. You could go to a god and ask him or her (or whatever to be honest sometimes you just can’t know, there are also those of us who enjoy changing their body so it’s even harder to tell) to help you and your village by granting you guys eternal life, and he might do just that. But the universe has his way, so whatever wish may be granted has to come with the same amount of benefits and inconvenience. So, in that case, the village was saved and his people could no longer die of illness or old age, but to stay alive they now needed to drink another's essence of life: blood. In the process they also lost their ability to bear children and the illness they had never really got cured so they can barely support the sunlight. No need to ask, I am indeed talking about my very own children, the vampires. You see, even gods don’t know exactly what will happen when we grant a wish and that’s how many breeds of what you may call supernaturals were created: vampires, faes, witches, shapeshifters… There are also half breeds, like demi-gods, demi-faes and half witches. When it comes to shapeshifter there are no half breeds, you either are one or you are not. If you're of a mixed heritage it's a gamble and the gene can be passed for 3 or 4 generations without manifesting before going extinct. Let’s just say it led to some very interesting stories, but they are not my stories to tell so I shall say no more. Oh and by the way not all the wishes led to new species and stuff, some just made a man change everything he touched to gold or cut the ocean in two (the last one was a one time deal).

So, yes we used to live with humans and supernaturals and it was great. Unfortunately all good things come to an end and so what had to happen happened… Someone fucked up pretty badly and that someone is your so-called God. Everything was fine until the Mother Goddess had a fight with him, by the way he is one of her first sons. No one really knows what the fight was about, She won’t talk about it and no one really wants to ask Him.

Whatever happened it pissed him off really bad and he decided to make her pay by taking away what she loved most, her children. Since he could not hurt the other gods, the only way to kill a god is for him to be totally forgotten and to become a mortal god so you kill him (which is still very hard to do), he decided to harm her other childrens, the mortal one. He could have gone on a rampage and killed a couple thousands of them but he felt it would not be enough so he planned something else, something that would change history forever. He presented himself to different people using different names, Yahweh (who became Elohim), Allah and God. He interacted with humans and he created different religions in an attempt to eradicate every other belief to harm gods as well. When he realised that it was not enough and that he could not tarnish his mother's name that way he pushed his followers to hate each other and to go to war against each other.

He knew that, since her mother would never take away the free will she gave to her children, she could only watch her children get slaughtered and cry. What he did not expect is the fact that she could punish him, and that she did. Of course she could not strip him from his title and she would not force humans to forget him but she did something worse. She took his ability to have children and she forbade him from ever walking in the human world again. When she pronounced his sentence she reached the spirit of every living god, sharing her words and her pain to all who could hear:

« Proditor, my beloved son, it is with great pain that I cast this punishment upon you today. For the lives you’ve taken and that were not yours to take you shall amend by no longer being able to bring life into this world yourself. For the pain you caused in the living world you shall never know the joy of walking these soils again. For the pain you caused me you shall now be yours to feel. This is my will so mote it be»

Since that day most of us stopped going in the mortal world and became very careful of the wish we granted. Without us being there, humans slowly stopped believing and only those who were touched by the gods remembered us and our stories. These people call themselves supernaturals, even though humans usually call them demons, and they live hidden in the shadow of the world you just joined: the forgotten night.

#ForgottenNight #Intro

[peepsilvs]

Stardew Valley: A Charming Review

Warning: Very, very mild spoilers for the story, but otherwise quite spoiler free. Written 3.3.2020

I have always had a weak spot for video games that feel like home. Sometimes you just want to play a game without getting an adrenaline rush with every move you make. So, naturally, when I found a game a game that took inspiration from the Harvest Moon series, one of my childhood favorites, I was sold solely for the idea. What I got instead was even better than I had dreamed of, but in a different way.

Stardew Valley is a 16-bit pixel art RPG farming simulator game that was released in 2016 by its sole developer Eric "ConcernedApe" Barone, and published by Chucklefish. It has since been improved and gotten new features over the years, with the most recent big update being 1.4 that added several new interactions and gameplay elements in 2019. In-game, you take the role of a young farmer who has grown tired of their work in a big corporation in an even bigger city and decides to move to their grandfather's old farm to start a new life in Pelican Town, Stardew Valley.

Relaxing Gameplay

When you start a new save in Stardew Valley, you are offered a choice from 6 different farms. Each of these farms represents a certain gameplay element in the game, with some encouraging farming and ranching, while others show what other activities the player can immerse themselves in. Even though you are a farmer in the world of Stardew Valley, you do not need to limit yourself to watering crops every day, but instead you can spend your time honing your fishing skills for a relaxing waiting game, or if you are feeling more adventurous, exploring the deep abandoned mines crawling with monsters. No matter what you choose, you are sure to find it rewarding every time you find something you have not seen before.

The main skills the player have are farming, foraging, mining, fishing and combat. Each of them have a level meter going up to 10, that at certain intervals allows you to choose special effects for your character and unlock crafting recipes, either to customize your farm with nice structures like paths or fences, or items that help you in the areas of that specific skill, like special buff clothing for combat. Maxing out these skills is simple: you do the activity that the skill is for.

There is a certain kind of difficulty curve in all of these activities that keeps it interesting even after you have reached the maximum level. Stardew Valley keeps record of all the things you have found, making it oddly satisfying to browse through a complete collection of fishes or gems that you have managed to find during your play. Of course, obtaining all items will not be easy, as there are specific requirements for the rare items, like the legendary fish that only spawn in a specific location at a specific time of year, or gems that only spawn with extremely good luck and courage to go deep enough into the more dangerous mines. It is safe to say that even if the player is only playing Stardew Valley for its gameplay, it will  not immediately run out of content for a true completionist.

Since the game uses 16-bit pixel graphics, it runs smoothly but is also limited to a certain controls. Often it balances this, like in fishing, where there is an added mini game to make it a little less boring to wait for a fish to bite. However, the controls of said mini game have frustrated many players, and has been divisive among the players. Personally, I found it a bit clunky, but then again, the same could be said about combat that I did enjoy. An element from the Harvest Moon sister series Rune Factory, combat in 16-bit pixels is not very astonishing. It mainly consists of the player using different weapons to hit enemies while standing still. The different weapons have different effects, but using anything other than a sword due to its speed and strength defeats the purpose, as the other weapons do not compare or using them feels rather redundant. There is also some problems with time and settings that some players may find frustrating. A year in-game has four seasons, Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, each consisting of 28 days with 20 in-game hours.  To farmers and fishers, waiting for seasons to change in order to raise new crops or obtain new fish can be boring, but this can be balanced by the mechanic of going to sleep and skipping the day. The opposite problem though, the lack of time, is harder to fix. Unlike some Harvest Moon games, Stardew Valley forces the player to pass out after 2 A.M. While this is for the reason that the game can save the progress for that day, I often found myself annoyed by how little time I had to mine in a day. After reaching a certain level in mining, the more challenging mine becomes available only after 10 A.M, meaning the game leaves the player with twelve in-game hours to mine, and passing out in the mines would not be a problem, if the game did not actively punish the player for it. Every time the player passes out without getting to bed, they may lose money or some items the next morning. Understandably this adds difficulty, but more often than not it just feels like an unnecessary limitation.

Another, a more personal and a quality of life kind of aspect I hoped the game would have, is the changing of brightness. Stardew Valley has a fixed brightness in-game and it cannot be changed, so to people with sensitive eyes this can cause problems. Some have also complained about the lack of instructions the game has for its activities, but to an old Harvest Moon player like myself, this was not a problem as older games rarely gave any instructions to what to do. It very much depends on the player if they like to find out things via trial and error or if they prefer to think before they act.

The Charming Characters Bring Life to the Game

The most relaxing aspect I found in Stardew Valley was getting to know all the villagers of Pelican Town. There is something oddly human about these small pixel people and hearing their dreams, regrets and joys feels like you are truly helping someone. Stardew Valley is a dream for someone who wishes they could help everyone, as the player character tends to fix a lot of the problems the town is going through. The story is, in fact, all about getting invested in the little Pelican Town and its residents, helping them re-build their community center and restore the spirit they had before a big corporation market JojaMart came into town. Or, if the player so wishes, just to buy a JojaMart membership and buy their way through community updates.

Stardew Valley's main story is simple and does not get that much in the way of gameplay and the player is in no rush to play through it. The more rewarding story aspect is getting to know your neighbors, with each having their own story events to play through to find out about more of them. Among regular neighbors, there are also love 12 love interests, 6 men and 6 women. It does not matter which gender the player chooses, as Stardew Valley offers the option of same-sex marriage. Naturally, the love interests have more events than regular villagers, but even then, it is always nice to see events with characters you see as your friends. In the Harvest Moon series, I always felt sad about how the non-marriage candidate characters had almost no events to show your friendship with them. When I played Stardew Valley and noticed a pattern in the villagers actually interacting with you in events, I felt immense joy even over the platonic relationships in-game.

Unlike Harvest Moon, that hails from Japan, Stardew Valley sometimes resonates more with me due to its Western culture influence. It is surprisingly mature, with themes like alcoholism, depression and capitalism and their effects on people. Stardew Valley's characters feel alive due to their complex feelings on the issues going on in their life. Of course, getting to know them on the there hand might break this illusion of connection as the main way for the silent protagonist to bribe these people to love them is to give gifts and talking through the same dialogue. It feels superficial, but it is only a natural mechanic for the type of game that Stardew Valley is and it can hardly be held responsible for this.

The Aesthetic Feels Nostalgic

Even to a person who has not played Harvest Moon or older pixel games, Stardew Valley's art is very pleasing to the eye. The vibrant colors change through seasons and every seasons has its own unique feeling to it, brought to life with the nature's foliage and nicely composed music. To an old player who is familiar with Harvest Moon, it reminds me of the older games in the series and their innocence and relaxing flow, that some of the newer games lack.

As said, the music in Stardew Valley compliments the elements and feelings it is trying to get through during events, seasons or in specific areas like the mines. A casual player benefits largely from keeping the audio on while playing. Along with music, the sound design of Stardew Valley is good, though some of the SFX sound like odd squishy steps. Nevertheless, they do add a certain charm after the first few times of hearing them and the player comes to associate said sounds with the game, and I have to admit, I did laugh when I heard a pig make a noise for the first time.

What I love the most about Stardew Valley's aesthetics is its colors and the freedom it gives to the player. I have seen several players in the Stardew Valley community share their beautifully organized farms that the game allows the player to make, should they choose to spend their time on it. There is also a customization option for the avatar, with the player being able to choose and craft clothing for the protagonist and change their color as they will. This element allows the player to write their own story and to truly immerse into the beautiful world of Stardew Valley.

Co-op

There is also a co-op mode available for Stardew Valley. One of the farm types, The Four Corners, even encourages playing the game with your friends and while the gameplay doesn't differ that much from the single-player game, sharing the experience is fun as expected. It is to be noted however, that a single-player mode cannot be converted to a multiplayer server, so in every new multiplayer game, the player must start from a scratch again.

The other players live on the land of the host in smaller cabins that they can upgrade and get married in. Two players cannot get married to the same character, however, and there might be some amusing incidents where you are in the middle of a date with your sweetheart and you can see your best friends avatar running in the background hacking trees.

Two player can also get married to each other by crafting a wedding ring, but this hardly changes any gameplay. Still, it is a nice choice to have if someone chooses to share a Stardew Valley server with their real life partner.

Verdict

Stardew Valley is a beautiful, charming game, either for casual players or just people who enjoy relaxing while doing mindless collecting and helping others. It's fun, it's simple and it still manages to interest me after 150 hours of gameplay, due to its active community and ConcernedApe's passion for his project and improving it even after 4 years. To former Harvest Moon players, Stardew Valley is a must try at least once. It is defiantly not the same as Harvest Moon, but it does work as food for those waiting for western release dates, or as its own experience entirely. There is no denying that the love and passion put into this little game shines through it and manages to fill the heart of the player.

#stardew valley #harvest moon

[katehuntington]

Things I know

I got this from someone, who I had never spoken to before, after my last post. It is so incredible to realize that beyond the people who reply publicly or send me a message, there is this army of people who might see my blog, but are quiet observers. Know that I appreciate each and every one of you.

This message... I can’t even begin to explain what it did to me. I had tears in my eyes reading it, just knowing that someone saw my cry for help and decided to write a page long essay on how he or she thought about me. I think that’s absolutely amazing, and I wanted to share it with everyone.

Things I know about how awesome you are without ever talking to you:

1. You care IMMENSELY about other people - you take time to respond to all the reblogs, comments, etc and you find ways to thank people for leaving their thoughts.

2. You recognize that someone else succeeding doesn’t take away from your success. I see so many fanfic accounts that don’t reblog many (if any) stories from other writers (no judgement). Your confidence and kindness shine through when you share stories from other writers - you’re the kind of person who builds other people up, you’re the kind of person that brings joy to a room and amplifies everyone’s best qualities.

3. You’re truthful and honest. Anyone who puts so much time and effort in to making sure every last detail of a fic is spot on accurate... that person cares deeply about honesty and integrity. It’s a fundamental part of your personality, you are GOOD... in a way that a lot of people just aren’t.

4. You care about your friends. A lot. I see you highlight your betas, I see you talk about this person or that person who helped you get all the little details right - it takes a village and you make yours feel seen and loved.

5. You SEE people. Their flaws, complications, and quirks. You understand more about people than you probably want to sometimes, it can be hard but I’m willing to bet it also makes you a pretty fantastic friend.

I’m sorry you’re having a hard go of it. Your writing and blog have brought me so much joy. I hope you know there are other people out there like me, quiet observers to whom you and your talents are such a gift. Thank you 💙 for sharing your stories, your time, and yourself with us.

#Kate answers #Message to Kate #love #AKF

[niobe44]

My first fanfic is a melendaire

Hi, I am French, my English is poor, so I hope there are not many faults in this text. I’m new to Tumblr so I don’t yet master the app. I hope you will be pleased with this text, and I welcome your comments.

Chap1

The episode of the illness that plunged the quarantine service had somewhat disrupted every staff member. If, according to Shaun's statistics, one and the same event will not be repeated in St José for fifteen years, the faces of the doctors were badged of the anxiety recently undergone.

Neil Melendez paced  the corridors this  Thursday of February. The sky was white outside and he thought quickly that a weekend in the country would be beneficial. He was tired of the past year and sometimes pretending. If his arrogance allowed him to assert his authority in his career he had little opportunity to show his sensitivity. Since his forties he was tormented by his present life. His relationship with Lim was simple, a strong friendship with a few nights of drinking. However, he felt empty, something was out of place.

When he saw his interns he cast out  his thoughts out. Park seemed happy to him since his son was more present with him, Morgan faithful to herself stood straight and haughty on the lookout for surgery that could propel her directly resident, Shaun and Claire were talking together. Claires's curls came off in a cascade on his blue blouse and for a split second Neil was caught in this contemplation. The last operation he had led with Claire was a success and the young woman kept to surprise him. Sensitive, communicative, gifted, she was an excellent student and would become a great surgeon. He knew it. The smile Claire give  him to brought him back to reality.

"- Hello everybody, this morning we have a case of hypoplasia of the left heart on a child of 11 years, Murphy you can tell us more?"

- It is a malformation of the left ventricle, the whole right part of the heart must compensate: eject the blood to the pulmonary artery but also to the aorta .. Normally it is detected by pre-natal electrocardiography. It is necessary to repair the aorta too small.

- Exactly. Park and Murphy you will be with me on this case. Reiznik Dr. Lim needs you in the E.R. Browne, the dermatology department asked to see one of us. Take the file and give me the situation .

Morgan protested with a glare. Claire was disconcerted by this distance. Only Park and Shaun seemed delighted with their fate.

Claire arrived at the dermatology department when the doctor Syrus, an accomplished dermatologist came to meet her:

- "Ah finally it is you the  intern that we are sent to us , it falls well, come see by there in my opinion this case isn't up to than my sole responsibility anymore , at these words he quickly entered a consultation room whose windows were tinted and hurried to close the door behind them.

"Oh," Claire exclaimed in front of the patient, "Excuse me,said she, Hello, I'm Dr. Browne, I'm an intern in surgery, and I'm here because Dr. Syrus thinks that together we can help you.

The patient, a 35-year-old man was visibly contaminated with lewandowsky-lux disease. His body was completely covered with bark-like warts, forming outgrowth on all his limbs. His hands and torso were no longer distinguishable and his head leaned back, pulled by the weight of the root skin. His eyes were still visible, but he spoke with difficulty.

"- Obluo is Filipino, his disease has developed there, in his village he is considered a sage because he heals, sees the future, administers the village.This is an OnG who helped to bring him to the United States hoping it can be cared by doctors, explained Syrus.The radios show extensive skin carcinoma and multivisceral failure.This is no longer a matter of dermatology it requires a heavy surgery to find the epidermisThere may lesions deep downs that need to be treated.

Claire looked at the man with difficulty.

The man seemed to smile at Claire.

"Obluo," she said, "I'm going to get other doctors and all together we'll try to solve your problem." She was aware that the man did not understand, but his benevolence forced her to explain.

"Dr. Syrus, I'll tell to  Dr. Melendez.

She found Neil at his office surrounded by Shaun and Park,discussing the best way to intervene on cardiac hypoplasia.On seeing her, he said happily, "Ah, Dr. Browne, so this dermatology why does she need us?

- Uh a verruciform Epidermodysplasia on a 35 year old man ..

- A what ? Asked Park.

"The tree man," said Melendez, "dont you know that means?

- It's genetic, interrupted Shaun and incurable. There are only 200 cases worldwide.

"Well, what do you think Dr. Browne?" asked Melendez .

-In the current state of things it is necessary to release the limbs in causing internal lesions in order to relieve the vital organs.

- Well now let's see if we can get a better particulars  . Murphy, Park prepare our patient for the intervention I'll join you after.

Claire and Neil  encountered Syrus,scowling,  that annonced  them bad news:

"the carcinomas have reached the pancreas, the liver and the weight of the warts compress the circulation including that of the encephalon.The operation is very risky, the chances of success guarantee it only temporary comfort but if we do not operate it will die in a few months of  multiple internal injuries.And an interpreter arrived.

After greeting the interpreter and explain to him the situation Melendez osculta Oblua.

Oblua was smiled alternately at Claire and Neil while listening to the interpreter  who explained the operation. The man laughed and asked questions: the interpreter answered them, then Oblua said something and the interpreter laughed.

"- What's he saying ?" Asked Melendez

"-He says you are one and the same heart that does not know it yet.

Claire's eyes met Neil's amused gaze.

"-It is very enigmatic all this, it can mean everything, it's thruth  I operates hearts!

The interpreter translates to Oblua, who frowned and shook his head laughing louder.

"-He says dawn will rise in your mind.

"-Well," said Melendez, "we're done with preoperative consultation, Oblua, me, and my mind we'll see you in a few hours."

Melendez had  leave Claire with the" tree human" and was heading to the block for heart surgery. He was troubled by the words of the man. The man must have been  learn that he was a cardiac surgeon, which was probably the content of the message. And then after all who did not need more light in his mind?

He thought furtively about Claire's curls and their exchanged gaze but decided that none of this had any logical explanation and that he was really too tired.

Claire was also thinking of the man's words. He seemed wise, benevolent, "One heart." To believe the rumor the heart of Neil was taken again. She must have been lucid: that annoyed her a little. Yet their looks remained unchanged: intense and talkative. He had to looked at all his colleagues like that ..

The cardiac operation was a total failure. The heart was not strong enough, the child had other organic disorders. Hours of complications and urgency to keep the child alive had only succeeded in plunging him into a coma. The parents were collapsed.Shaun placidly announced that the child would die while Park was affectedd by the patient who was the same age as his son .He  was searching for a cure.

  Melendez  looked at hell  when he entered the No. 2 block. Obluo was not yet anesthetized and  was smiling at the sight of Neil and Claire standing side by side:

"-You know," he said to Melendez, "for the child: his spirit is free, he's going to leave now" and Obluo fell asleep.

Claire saw the surprise on Neil's face.

The operation lasted more than 15 hours, it was necessary to cut sometimes with the saw the hard skins of the body of the man to clear his body of his tree prison. When they had finished, the man's constancies were normal.

All the staff was exhausted.

When he woke up, the patient was calm and thanked each of the doctors standing on either side of his bed. Obluo squeezed Claire's hand in a respectful gesture and grabbed Melendez's wrist for talk him. 

-"He left " .

Claire watched with concern as Melendez slowly emerged from the man's embrace and out of the room. He was nauseated.

It was then that Shaun came to announce the death of the child.

Neil had decided to send his interns home. All were tired. It was past 6 a.m

Neil left his blouse, he was hot and needed to get fresh air immediately.

The end of the night was cooling  on the terrace of the refectory. The first thing he saw was the brown curls. He settled down next to Claire.

"I learned for your patient,"  said she , "I'm sorry.

- Yes, the day was difficult. But you worked well, Obluo is alive.

- The disease will come back but he does not seem to be worried.

- Some things always come back. Thoughts, obstacles. Things that turn ... in a loop. He said that last sentence in a low voice.

"It may be a good thing," said Claire. It may mean that happiness, joy, love come back too. 

Neil looked at her. It seemed to her that Claire's eyes were an answer to everything that was flickering in her thoughts. Claire smiled at him, returning that deep and immense look.

It had begun to rain and a drop was spinning on a lock of Claire's hair.

Neil stared at the drop and ran her hand over the curl. Mechanically he put the lock the hair behind Claire's ear. Her eyes plunged again in Claire's. He feld over into it. He slipped his hand from his ear to his temple, his thumb traveling over his cheekbones. His second hand came to join Claire's neck. Nobody said words. Each look was an endless fire. He framed his face with his hands as if to contemplate it better. Claire's mouth was smiling. She touched Neil's hip with her palm and her forehead swung against Neil's. He caressed of his lips  Claire's lips before kissing them. The attraction of kissing was so strong  that it was impossible for them to stop pressing their lips against each other, from his mouth Neil gently took Claire's lower lip to taste it entirely and she did the same with his . Her fingers were lost in her hair and Claire let her fingers run down Neil's neck to his chest.

The ground was falling under their feet.

They were felt the axis of the earth was where it should be.

They ruled out from each other.

 Their eyes betrayed the gigantic confusion  that came to reveal themselves. They panted for a moment, their breath caught in the embrace, looking at each other in amazement. Neil picked up his briefcase, straightened up as the sun illuminated Claire's curls and the mirror of her eyes. Upset with desires, he stared at her intently in the morning light and stepped out of the terrace. 

Dawn had  risen.

#melendaire #melendez #claire browne #the good doctor #fanfic #love

[honeylikewords]

the baby asks you have been answering are so cute!! so i have to ask-- what do you think t'challa and his queen are like preparing to welcome a little panther to their kingdom?

Oh, how wonderful! I’m excited to do more T’Challa content, and hopefully I do right by him and his canon!

(Again, I refer to my original disclaimer on my first T’Challa post, wherein I state that while I am white and cannot, in any way, speak to the black experience, I want my Black Panther content to be explicity inclusive of black readers, who are usually negelected in the fic community. I hope my work pays its dues to the important and necessary presence of black readers and creators, and that they feel represented here! I’m also dedicated to doing my research and doing it well, so if there are any inaccuracies portrayed here, absolutely tell me and I’ll work on amending them.)

So, without further ado, here we go!

I researched birth rituals from a number of the tribes that contributed to the design and culture of Wakanda. The two that stood out the most were the Zulu tribe and the Himba tribe, who both have very strong ritual histories for birth culture.

For the Zulu people, especially Zulu traditionalists, no marriage is truly permanent until a child is born. While Wakanda has moved into a more progressive understanding of marriage, one that includes validation that, yes, a marriage is permanent, binding, and important, even without the prescence of children as a possibility, birth and childbearing are still seen as noble and important tasks, and, if willingly carried out, should be respected.

Certainly, for the royal family, there is an expectation to carry on the line. There is no immediate pressure, necessarily-- it’s not as if Queen Ramonda was breathing down T’Challa’s neck to have children-- but it is an honor to uphold the royal lineage, and an honor that T’Challa does not take lightly. He’s known ever since he was a child that it would be his responsibility to take the throne and, yes, to one day pass it down to a child of his own, should fate be permitting.

So, yes, even before he was married, he made it very clear to his beloved that he anticipated children in his future, and wanted to be sure that she anticipated that, too. He understood if she didn’t want that for herself, or couldn’t, for whatever reason, and was ready to handle whatever happened next, for better or worse. But he was immensely pleased (and secretly giddy) that she, too, wanted children, and was ready for that stage to come in their future together.

Once married, T’Challa became very, very excited for the prospect of children. He may seem calm and collected, and that’s because, in many ways, he is: through years of practice and a naturally level head for leadership, T’Challa can keep himself in check and in line. But every time he thought about his child, the offspring of his love to a woman who fills his heart with overflowing joy, he would start smiling, even in the most serious of situations.

Sometimes Okoye would catch T’Challa staring wistfully out a window at the Wakandan skyline and wave her hand in front of his face, breaking the reverie.

“My king? Is all well?”

“Mhm, yes,” he’d mumble dreamily. “I was just thinking about... little socks.”

“...Little socks?”

“Yes, you know,” T’Challa would say. “As in for babies. I wonder if M’Baku has any good seamstresses, what with his having so many children and being in the cold climates...”

He gets daydreamy about the baby. It’s just a fact of life.

Similarly, it’s also a fact that in the Himba tribe, there is a belief that a person’s life does not start on the day they are born, nor when they are conceived, but when they are dreamed up inside their mother’s mind.

The Himba believe that once a woman begins to want to have a child, she should go away from her village and sit under a tree, meditating until she can hear “the song of her child”. After that, she can return to the village to go and conceive her child, though the child is already made real in her mind. It’s a truly beautiful sentiment, and one that is surely still intact in Wakandan culture.

For T’Challa’s wife, she began to think about having a child pretty early. Now, it wasn’t a truly settled idea, but more of a sudden burst of thought, like a little bubble popping, especially in the months before the wedding. “One day, you’ll be having a baby with him,” her mind would say. “One day, perhaps very soon.”

She didn’t let the thoughts solidify too quickly, since there was so much to deal with, but after a while, she began to seriously ruminate on the idea. And once that rumination took place, she knew that the spiritual conception was already beginning, according to tradition and to her own heart.

She probably went to talk to Queen Ramonda in private about the feelings, and about how Ramonda had handled the thoughts when it was her time. Ramonda was very supportive and warm, encouraging her to take the time to go and meditate, to listen for the song of her soon to be child, should all forces work in their favor.

So she did. She took a day away from the royal duties to go and rest in a field alone, sitting under a broad tree and watching the grassy plains before her rustle in the wind. She waited and quieted her mind, letting time roll past without concern. It took a while, a long while, of concentrating, then losing focus, then trying to concentrate again, and just when she was becoming frustrated with herself, she felt a wave of calm come over her.

And in the wind that whispered through the grass and the fronds of the tree up above, in the sounds all around her, the ones she observed in her silence, she could hear a melody forming.

That was the voice of her child, calling to her, telling her things would be alright, and that they’d be here to see her soon. They were beginning their journey from concept into conception.

When she came back to the palace, T’Challa found her and asked her where she’d been.

“The Dora said you’d gone out by yourself; no guard, no communication...” he mumbled, hands clasping her cheeks. “I was worried.”

“Don’t worry,” she said back as she pressed up to kiss his forehead. “I have some very, very good news.”

T’Challa tipped his head sideways like a curious kitten, making the confused but intrigued face his wife has learned to love, to giggle at.

“A little panther sang to me today,” she said, taking his hand.

It took him a moment to understand, to put together the solitude, the quiet, the singing... and then his face broke into a great, big, gap-toothed grin, the light inside of him beaming out and shining in his eyes, wonder surrounding him.

“Really, my love? You-- you’re ready? They sang?”

She nodded, and he gripped her waist, an unsuppressable laugh of joy bubbling out of him. Then he lifted her and spun her around, uncaring of what anyone else saw or thought.

“Our baby,” he breathed, glowing. “Our baby!”

“Our baby!,” she echoed back.

Both of them were overwhelmed and warmed to their cores by the moment, because there’s something indescribably beautiful about excitement for the future, and the promise of facing that future hand in hand with someone beloved. T’Challa was, quite frankly, moved to tears, thinking of his child’s spirit visiting his wife, telling her that it was time for them to come into the world.

When they were in private and able to be emotionally intimate, he expressed the depth of his joy and his tears came without shame, and she cried, too, both of them swept up in the love that they were able to experience together. Knowing that before them lay a lifetime spent together, but now with the inclusion of a new life, one made with their love, made with the reality of their union.

It’s a wonder beyond comprehension, and neither of them needed to explain away the feelings. They just lived them, experienced them, and let their hearts guide them where they needed to be: together.

In the following months, there’d be much preparation, gearing the kingdom up for the arrival of a new royal. There would be so much excitement in the kingdom, since the royal family is beloved and respected nearly universally in Wakanda! Even M’Baku would come and pay his respects, bringing gifts for the new baby.

“Hopefully this Udaku will be able to hold up in a fight,” he bellows, chuckling at his own joke, standing next to piles and piles of rich furs, handmade baby toys and ceremonial tools, and more gifts than is probably necessary. He just really wanted to show off what a good dad he is, and make a splash to show that none of the other gift-givers respect and honor T’Challa and the new baby as much as he does. That cheeky man.

Shuri is delighted, too, to start developing technology for the new Udaku baby. Not exactly smartphones or tablets for baby to play with, but something more useful, more constructive. Those arenas of vibranium sand that can form themselves into moving models could be revamped, Shuri imagines, perhaps as a changing and shifting play-pen for the baby... T’Challa insists that she not experiment on her nephew or niece, but she assures T’Challa that she wouldn’t be experimenting on the baby.

“Just experimenting with the baby,” she laughs. T’Challa finds it a little less funny, but still smiles. He knows she’ll care for that baby and protect them with her life (not that he’d ever allow harm to befall either of these, his prized people).

To come would be a great many celebrations; many of the tribal cultures use song and dance to greet and celebrate the arrival of a new baby, and so nearly every tribe in Wakanda would have a separate celebration to pay homage to the new royal-- for example, the border tribe might bring woven blankets made to honor royalty, like Basotho blankets. For the more religious cultural aspect, there would certainly be the praising and thanking of Bast for the gift of the baby, and praying for safe passage and protection during their lifetime.

But most importantly, there would be the gathering of family to bring this child into the world and to let them know how loved they are, how honored, how cared for. That they will be descended from kings and warriors, but also from parents who love one another and their child with all their hearts and souls.

So, in short, T’Challa and his queen would be the most loving parents in the world, and their preparations for the little panther’s arrival would, without a doubt, reflect that love.

(Here are some of the sources used to find historical and cultural information for this post. Here is an article about the Kamba tribe, one about the Zulu tribe, and the Himba tribe, and a list of some of the tribes referenced to and from in the film Black Panther!)

#this turned into more of a worldbuilding exercise in birth rituals in wakanda hshgkhg? #but i hope i still accomplished my main goals which were #1) to remain respectful to the original source material and cultures #2) to spread warmth and love through the writing #and 3) to spread BabyFever Joy! #anyway #messages #long post / #original #black panther #marvel #gif warning / #t'challa #t'challa udaku #baby talk #goddd this isn't even Half of the stuff i have in my BrainZone but i gotta trim the edges ghkhgkhg #Anonymous

[sindaqueen]

Ah! My dress. My dress for the ceremony is turning into a dream, of pearl silk, pearls, jewels, gold and silver. Several feet of tail, would show the guests that my father did not save on the appliances of his daughter. I would have liked a red brocade, but my mother thought I was too young for that, and the more I sew and my ladies embroider, the more I like my dress. Nothing less than splendid.

Today, my mother-in-law came to the sewing shop to see what we were doing, and brought her sewers to help and make her dress too. After several expressions of admiration for my dress, still on the dummy, she sighed and put her hand over her eyes, slightly irritated:

- Oh, Valar! What am I going to do with Thranduil? I already showed him a hundred models of clothing, and all I got was a raise of eyebrows and total disinterest. "You'll know what to do, Nana." That's what he said. It's difficult.

I laughed. Thranduil is very stylish, but someone has to do things for him. Lady Aewen has extreme taste, no doubt. I said:

- Do you want me to help you? I can make some drawings, if you like. Just tell me what you're thinking.

She smiled:

- It would be great. Can you help me with Oropher's clothes too? That's even harder ...

- Yes, of course, with pleasure. When does it arrive?

- Next week must be here. - She can not hide her smile of satisfaction -He did not even answer my letter, sent a messenger. He arrives with Amdir and the other Lords of Doriath.

I sat with her on the drawing board, and began by the clothes of my father-in-law. It was easier, and I already knew the style of the proud Lord Oropher. A long black velvet tunic with a sleeveless coat with a silver lining and all the details in silver, buttons and a heavy belt studded with precious stones. Lady Aewen shook her head in agreement:

- Yes, he'll wear that and will not complain until the end of the day. You can put them on the sleeves and the hem, I'll ask you to make a new boot too. And the strap to the hem of the sword.

I fixed every detail, and she was satisfied. I smiled. My father-in-law will look wonderful in this outfit. We stopped for a few minutes thinking of Thranduil's clothes, and I decided he would not wear the traditional long tunic. I drew a long coat, down to the knees, to be made of a very light golden, gold-studded damask fabric and red silk details. The similar cover, of a slightly darker gold. I knew he would get my mother's gift from a long necklace of pearls of Balar, and I made the garment match the accessories he would wear. Discreet and extremely elegant. Lady Aewen was giving me the details, here and there, and we were both pleased with the result. Now we have to wait for him to stay too. She waved her hand.

- Will stay. I wear this on him, he looks splendid, and he likes it. It's always like that. He can not visualize things before they are ready.

I ran my hand lightly around the drawing, wondering how my fiancé would look, and I thought he'd be as handsome as a Vala.

The wedding guests were coming in, and soon my mother had the house full. It took some lodging in the village, but all were received as kings. It was very interesting to see the astonishment of our relatives in meeting the elves of the East, and many festive conversations took place the following nights, and my marriage began long before the ceremony itself. The music filled the air, cheerful, music of the Falathrin and the Orient. Me and Thranduil were very busy with the visitors, we had no time for anything. One night after a party, he called me to walk on the beach, because we had not talked to each other for days.

We walked along the coast, away from the busy port, and sat on a rock where we could see the lights on the other bank at Sirion's mouths. The city was in full construction and an hour or so, I would have to go there to see my projects in progress. We talked about the news that Lord Oropher had brought from Doriath, and that they were not good. He told me that Tharanion would arrive shortly, with several elves, and I was happy to see the elf representative of Doriath, that great elf full of strength and energy. As we spoke, I realized that the moonlight reflected in the water seemed to increase, but I did not give much importance at first. However, the waters were not behaving as they should in that tide.

Thranduil noticed my uneasiness and asked me what I had. Then I put a finger on his lips and said,

- Silence ... listen ...

Very softly the music filled the air. It was not a song we could produce, none of us. It was a song that had been born with the beginning of the Ages, and we were ecstatic. It was the echo of Ainulindalë and I knew it. I got up quickly, searching the waters, and ran down from the rock to the beach. Thranduil, stunned by divine music, took a few moments to follow me, but soon I saw him by my side, his boots wedged into the water, alert as ever. Then the water exploded a few meters from us, an incredible silent explosion, and before I even saw Maia, I was already clapping and jumping for joy.

Then he came, my father's friend Maia, the friend of the elves, the furious Ossë. He rose from the water more than ten feet high, the swirling of the immense hair, so silvery that it reflected the light of the Moon in order to blind us. Naked as it came out of Eru's hands, her perfect and very strong body was a spectacle of light and beauty. The white smile like the foam of the sea, the green eyes clear, immense. The voice was like the thunder of waves, of thunder, a sea storm:

- Eldar children are getting married! Uinen wants to see the wedding. A blessing to the daughter of the Great Builder.

[mariaslozak]

Witch-themed romance reads, some past, some future, with a couple of books from other genres.

Bewitched, an anthology by Lisa Higdon, Susan Krinard, Amy Elizabeth Saunders, and Maggie Shayne, whose novella Everything She Does Is Magick has a Sleeping Beauty-esque trio of aunts furtively wielding their magic to ensure the unwitting hero’s virginity stays intact until such a time as he and their protegee will fall for each other. Whether you’ll enjoy it probably depends on your feelings about the premise and if the enemies to lovers interaction between the heroine and hero strikes you as hilarious or immature.

Eternity by Maggie Shayne “Three hundred years ago, Raven St. James was accused of witchcraft...Only one man tried to free her from the hangman's noose--Duncan, the town minister, who died trying to save her. Three hundred years later, the accused witch still lives and longs for her love...At last, after centuries of loneliness, Raven has found her precious Duncan. But as he awakens to the passion of his past life, so too does the evil that tore them apart. Now Raven and Duncan must prove their love for all eternity.” (TBR)

The Witch and the Warrior by Karyn Monk, a medieval set in Scotland. “Suspected of witchcraft, Gwendolyn MacSween has been condemned to being burned at the stake at the hands of her own clan. Yet rescue comes from a most unlikely source. Mad Alex MacDunn, laird of the mighty rival clan MacDunn, is a man whose past is scarred with tragedy and loss. His last hope lies in capturing the witch of the MacSweens--and using her magic to heal his dying son. He expects to find an old hag....Instead he finds a young woman of unearthly beauty. There's only one problem: Gwendolyn has no power to bewitch or to heal. Now she must pretend to be a sorceress--or herself perish.” (TBR; have enjoyed a couple of non-medieval historicals by this author.)

A Witch’s Handbook of Kisses and Curses by Molly Harper. “Nola Leary would have been content to stay in Kilcairy, Ireland, healing villagers at her family’s clinic with a mix of magic and modern medicine. But a series of ill-timed omens and a deathbed promise to her grandmother have sent her on a quest to Half-Moon Hollow, Kentucky, to secure her family’s magical potency for the next generation. Complication One: the artifacts [she needs to unearth] are lost somewhere in what is now Jane Jameson's book shop. Complication Two: her new neighbor, Jed Trudeau, who keeps turning up half naked at the strangest times, a distraction Nola doesn't need.” (Currently reading.)

Met By Moonlight by Rosemary Edghill. “When modern day witch Diana Crossways plunges back to 1647 England, she learns that a mysterious man she saw in Salem, Massachusetts is a notorious witch hunter. He holds the power of life and death over Diana--but she also inflames his desire.” (I gave this one a B a few years back.)

Magical Memories by Donna Fletcher. Contemporary set in Scotland. “As one of the world’s most powerful witches, Tempest possesses the ability to do anything - except men her own broken heart. Many years ago, her lover was corrupted by his own magic power, and she was forced to imprison him in a mystical limbo. Unable to forgive herself, Tempest has never allowed another man to get close to her... until now. While navigating her car through a fierce blizzard, Tempest accidentally hits Michael Deeds, injuring his leg. [At her home, where she has taken him to heal, the two begin to fall for each other.] But is Michael the new love she’s been searching for - or someone from her past she dared not believe she’d ever see again?” (TBR)

Bewitching by Jill Barnett. Regency. “Alec, Duke of Belmore, did as he pleased - and he wanted to marry the beautiful, bubbly girl who had positively bewitched him: Joyous MacQuarrie, who had appeared from nowhere and turned stately Belmore Park upside down with merriment and mischief. It hardly mattered that her Scottish bloodline was shrouded in mystery. But Alec's heated desire turned ice-cold when he discovered that this winsome lady was, in fact, a witch --- whose powers of white magic were not always perfectly under control ...Too late, Joy knew she was desperately in love and that nothing could stop the course of their destiny --- the scandal threatening to destroy her and the passion that held them both spellbound in a forbidden, irresistible match.” (This charmed an A from me and became an instant favourite a long time ago.)

Thornyhold by Mary Stewart. From a different period than her wonderful vintage romantic suspense, this book has a much subtler, quieter flavour, being sweet and gentle instead of tense and gothicky. The romance is secondary. “To Cilly, the house, deep in the wild wood, was an enchantment, left to her by the cousin whose occasional, magical visits had brightened her childhood. And as she explored, she discovered more about the woman who had come to seem like a fairy godmother to her: her herbalist’s skills, her still room, her abilities to foresee and heal. She discovered also that the local people believed that Cilly had inherited not just the house but the magical spell-weaving powers that lived on in the house and garden. Slowly, she came to realise that they were right.” (This one needs a reappraisal from me as my original, long ago C+ was based on disapponted expectations.)

50 Ways To Hex Your Lover by Linda Wisdom. @ameliafeministpeabody‘s recent mention inspired me to add this humorous contemporary paranormal, first in a series, to my TBR! The heroine is “a witch who can’t stay out of trouble” and the hero “a vampire cop on the trail of a serial killer.”

Sorcerer to the Crown by Zen Cho. Romantic historical fantasy. The author apparently has mentioned Georgette Heyer and Susannah Clarke (Jonathan Stange and Mr. Norrell) as her major influences. “At his wit’s end, Zacharias Wythe, freed slave, eminently proficient magician, and Sorcerer Royal of the Unnatural Philosophers—one of the most respected organizations throughout all of Britain—ventures to the border of Fairyland to discover why England’s magical stocks are drying up.But when his adventure brings him in contact with a most unusual comrade, a woman with immense power and an unfathomable gift, he sets on a path which will alter the nature of sorcery in all of Britain—and the world at large...” (Reading next)

The Witches of New York by Ami McKay. Gilded Age fantasy fiction. “Two hundred years after the trials in Salem, Adelaide Thom has left her life in the sideshow to open a tea shop with another young woman who feels it's finally safe enough to describe herself as a witch: a former medical student and "gardien de sorts" (keeper of spells), Eleanor St. Clair. Together they cater to Manhattan's high society ladies, specializing in cures, palmistry and potions--and in guarding the secrets of their clients. All is well until one bright September afternoon, when an enchanting young woman named Beatrice Dunn arrives at their door seeking employment. Beatrice soon becomes indispensable as Eleanor's apprentice, but her new life with the witches is marred by strange occurrences. She sees things no one else can see. She hears voices no one else can hear. Objects appear out of thin air, as if gifts from the dead. Has she been touched by magic or is she simply losing her mind? Eleanor wants to tread lightly and respect the magic manifest in the girl, but Adelaide sees a business opportunity. Working with Dr. Quinn Brody, a talented alienist, she submits Beatrice to a series of tests to see if she truly can talk to spirits. Amidst the witches' tug-of-war over what's best for her, Beatrice disappears, leaving them to wonder whether it was by choice or by force.As Adelaide and Eleanor begin the desperate search for Beatrice, they're confronted by accusations and spectres from their own pasts. In a time when women were corseted, confined and committed for merely speaking their minds, were any of them safe?” (TBR, thanks to @seashells-and-bookshelves)

Dance Upon The Air by Nora Roberts. One of the consistently best loved romances by this genre legend. “When Nell Channing arrives on charming Three Sisters Island, she believes that she’s finally found refuge from her abusive husband - and from the terrifying life she fled so desperately eight months ago. But even in this quiet, peaceful place, Nell never feels entirely at ease. Careful to conceal her true identity, she takes a job as a cook at the local bookstore café - and begins to explore her feelings for the island sheriff, Zack Todd. But there is a part of herself she can never reveal to him - for she must continue to guard her secrets if she wants to keep the past at bay. One careless word, one misplaced confidence, and the new life she’s created so carefully could shatter completely. Just as Nell starts to wonder if she’ll ever be able to break free of her fear, she realizes that the island suffers under a terrible curse - one that can only be broken by the descendants of the Three Sisters, the witches who settled the island back in 1692. And now, with the help of two other strong, gifted women—and with the nightmares of the past haunting her every step—she must find the power to save her home, her love…and herself.” (TBR)

The Witches of All Saints by Jill Tattersall. Vintage gothic Regency. “It is February, 1811, in the countryside outside Brighton, England. In every house are people who have been terrified by the most brutal murder ever to occur in the area. Not only has this murder of well-known young woman shocked and repulsed them; it has also raised their deepest suspicions and fears for the safety of their own lives. For the murder had been the handiwork of more than one person, in fact of a group. A group of witches.Tansy Tremayne, coming to live with her aunt's family on their estate, arrived at the dreadful moment of the murder itself - indeed, witnessed a part of the ritual. Witnessed and was witnessed - by one of the participants. He was wrapped in witch's robe, the thin, diabolical music of the flute playing around him. He was someone Tansy would recognize...“ (Tattersall wrote several of the better gothics in the sixties and seventies. B- from me.)

#gothic romance #historical romance #hallowe'en #romance novels #books #mary stewart #jill barnett #jill tattersall #my own photos #maggie shayne

[come-with-me-and-imagine]

Floki’s Witch (Soulmate Au)

This will be one of two Floki soulmate Au’s that I will be writing. because someone made a suggestion that i liked :) Contains adult themes. Trigger Warning: Nearly being burned alive.

(Y/N)-Your name

(Y/F/N)--Your full name

The great battle had ended but Floki was not celebrating with the others. He felt something...a sense of dread and fear swelling inside of him. His chest was tight and his mind raced with wonderment as to what was happening. Suddenly his arm started to burn. He cried out at the immense pain as he fell to his knees. He saw smoke rising from his sleeve. His hand tore at the material yanking his bracer off. Upon his bare skin, he watched before his eyes as a name was burned into his skin. Spelled out in Ruins the name...her name...(Y/N).

He spurred his horse faster and faster. As if the great wolf Fenrir was on his very heels bringing Ragnarok with him. He had to get to her. Something was terribly wrong...

Floki rode for what seemed like an eternity before he found a village. He saw a crowd of people surrounding a singular house. They were roaring and gearing as a woman was being dragged from her house by her hair. She screamed and begged for them. Tears stained her face as they shouted slanderous things to her. ‘Pagan Witch’, ‘Devils Whore’...and so the slurs went and were spat upon her as she was tied up in the middle of the town upon what looked like a pyre. Her arms outstretched and bound to a wooden cross like structure.

“(Y/F/N) You have been charged with the crimes of witchcraft!” The priest shouted causing the crowd to scream and roar once more. But the moment the name reached his ears Floki’s body gave a jolt as if he had been struck by Thor’s hammer. It was her! His soulmate! But what in the name of the gods where they--Floki’s eyes widened as he watched them set the pyre ablaze.

Her screams of terror and pain echoed in his ears. Floki could only see red now as he reared his horse. The horse even seemed to make a demonic sound. This startled the people of the village below as they watched this painted faced barbarian charging towards them. He charged straight towards the burning pyre. His face contorted and twisted in a burning rage.

He jumped from his horse swinging his sword down upon the structure that was holding her hostage. The crowd screamed and gasped as they crossed themselves. The ropes that bound her were cut before he jumped back onto his horse. His hand held out to her as she jumped to. Not caring who he was so long as she was away from this place. With a loud war cry, Floki spurred his horse to run again through the village and off into the countryside. He felt her arms tighten around him as she was pressed hard into his chest.

Eventually, he slowed his horse to a steady trot. He held her against him with his one arm while the other kept a tight grip on the reins. Upon his arrival, back at the encampment, he was greeted by odd stares. They all wondered who the woman was. Why were her skirts burned, why were her feet blackened by soot? Yet, Floki ignored all of them as he went back to his tent. Getting down first he gently pulled her into his arms and carried her inside. He set her down causing her to look up at him slightly afraid. “I won’t hurt you.” He said in his tongue forgetting she probably didn’t understand. His hand took hers gently, “(Y/N)...” This startled her. How did this strange man know her name?

As if reading her mind he tore back his sleeve to show her the runes burned into his skin. “(Y/N)...” he repeated gently letting her touch them. It gave him a sense of warmth before he placed her hand on his chest. “Floki....” he whispered watching her eyes widen at the sound of the name. “Floki...”. He watched a tear fall down her face. Those eyes glistening as she looked down at her own arm. Slowly she raised the material and to Floki’s amazement...there...on her arm were letters burned into her skin.

“Floki...” She spoke his name and his heart swelled with happiness as he chuckled. His own tears falling down as he kissed the letters upon her arm. Over and over...as he curled into her lap. Floki cried with joy...with sorrow...with sheer and utter happiness. Floki cried, he cried when he felt her hand caress his head slowly. Her hands cupping his face and making him look at her. Gentle caresses wiped away his tears. His own hands cupping hers as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“My (Y/N)...” He took her hand and pressed it to his heart. “My (Y/N).” He smiled as his lips pressed to her forehead lovingly. With a sniffle and a deep breath, he stood up. “Stay...” he signaled to her. “Stay...” He ran out of the tent only to return with a washbasin and a cloth. Then he diligently proceeded to wash her feet. The blackened soot being erased from her soft fair skin. His hand caressed the back of her calf as he kissed below her knee. Then he disappeared once more only to return with cloths. After he had explained the situation to Lagertha, she lent him some of her clothes. “Here...” he handed them to her. “You...” he spoke slowly, “clean clothes...” he nodded as he sounded like a fool. (Y/N) placed her hand on top of his. Floki knew that his knowledge of the priest's language was not good, for he had never intended to learn like Ragnar had.

He watched her take the cloths before disappearing behind a changing curtain. He waited nervously for her. He heard the sound of the curtain being pulled back and he jumped to his feet. His face now clean for her to see.

Dressed in Lagertha’s clothes she looked like one of the Shield Maidens. But to Floki...with her long wild hair...she looked like a Valkyrie. Picking up a cloak and some boots he wrapped her up to keep warm before placing the boots on her feet. Her eyes bore into his as if she were seeing into his soul. He took her hands in his. “I...will keep you safe...always.” He vowed as he kissed her hands lovingly. “My (Y/N)...”

And Floki would keep to his promise. All the way back to Kattegat he stood by her side. Holding her, and keeping her close while the others continued to wonder who she was. At night, Floki would have her lay against his chest as he would whisper to her things about his people. He would point out constellations while helping her trace them.

By the time they had returned home, Floki was even more excited to show her his home...their home...

Holding her hand the whole way back he leads her through the forest to his small home by the river. “Here...” he said gleefully as he brought her to his home. “Home..” he said softly as he pulled her to him. “Home...” he repeated softly. (Y/N) heard the sound of the waterfall as she looked around. Her hand slipping from his as she took in the wonder of everything around her.

“It...” Floki perked up hearing her speak his native tongue. “It...is...beautiful...” she smiled at him. “Beautiful...Floki...” Floki held his hand to his heart as he smiled up to the heavens and spun around with a gleeful laugh.

“Beautiful...like my (Y/N)” he said as his fingertips caressed her jawline. “My (Y/N)--” Floki was silenced by her lips pressing to his. His spine straightened as he felt a shock of Thor’s lightning pass through him. He moaned as his arms wrapped around her body. She was supple..curvy...the right curves from her thighs to her back. He kissed back with vigor before picking her up and heading inside. He placed her on the bed of furs by the hearth. The kiss growing in heat as he laid between her thighs. Which, had now been exposed from the skirts of her new dress riding up.

Floki moaned and panted as his hands linked with hers. Fingers becoming intertwined. Her eyes glanced up at him in a slight fear causing him to hesitate. “Untouched?” he asked softly as he laid upon her body. Her breasts pressed firmly against his chest. With a slow nod, he got his answer. “Gentle...” he said softly “I will be gentle my (Y/N),” he said before his hand moved between her legs. Her lips parted in a moan as he kissed her again. His fingers moved against her sex making sure she was wet enough for him. Her body began to tremble beneath him. His cock tightening in his pants before he couldn’t hold back any longer. Sitting back he pulled off his tunic allowing her to see his body. Then he lowered her dress to lay bundled around her waist. Her body was a gift from the gods. So pure...untouched...

He leaned down to kiss her again as he prepared his cock. Then slowly...he broke her maidenhead. He heard the cry of the virgin maid as her purity was taken. Her body clung to him as he whispered sweet things in her ear. “Shhh....shhhhh...” he cooed gently as she adjusted. Her hands gripped his arms as his knees dug into the ground as his hips began to move slowly. He pressed his forehead to hers as she moaned in pain a few more times. When he heard the pain became pleasure he felt his own body relax. Slow, long and deep thrusts caused more moans of pleasure to arise from those lips. “(Y/N)...” he moaned as he hooked her leg over his arm pushing him even deeper.

(Y/N)’s body arched against his as the pleasure grew and grew. “Floki...” her nails dug into his skin causing his own moans to grow louder. His hips moved faster and faster. Their breathing was choppy and quick as they moved together. Bodies grinding against one another as sweat began to build on their skin. “Floki!” She cried out as she started trembling and panting heavily.

“(Y/N)...My (Y/N)!” He moaned as he felt his end coming nearer and nearer. He kissed her as he angled his hips to find that spot. She screamed against those lips as the pleasure started to become too much. He knew her end was upon her. It only took a few more thrusts before he felt her clamp down around him. Her body arched as she cried out in utter ecstasy.

This spurred on Floki as he held her in his arms as his hips slammed him deep inside her body. His hot seed spilling into her womb. His forehead pressed to hers as they lay there panting with trembling bodies. Arms holding one another closer than ever before.

Floki offered a silent prayer to the gods for giving him his soulmate. His (Y/N)

@hildeerpdottir @lovelynerdytraveler  @crazyandanonymous4u @cutiepiepotatoes @thinemineours @filippazm @nistaposebno @britt-janssens  @titty-teetee @readsalot73  @kirah34 @pandainfinitely  @peachykenn  @angel-852  @whorriblemindset

#floki imagines #floki smut #floki soulmate au #vikings soulmate au #Vikings soulmate imagines #praying people like it #sorry its long

[oprashaant]

The tea-seller's little boy

On a cold Friday evening, in the month of December, Sudhakar had just opened his small tea-shop. He was running his shop in a small corner on the ever busy East street area from 3 in the afternoon till late evenings. In the morning he would go door to door to deliver milk and cottage cheese.

He was late that day, late by atleast 3 hours. The reason for this was his 6 years old son Raghu. He had been crying inconsolably since last night. The stray puppy that he had brought home just a week ago, had come under the wheels of a car and died. That had shattered him and broke his little heart.

They lived in a one room shanty in a crowded slum but Raghu hardly had any friends. A birth defect had caused him to limp while walking and his friends would tease him everytime they saw him walk because of his funny stance. That would hurt him a lot.

With only a half broken bat and a plastic ball to call a toy Raghu would often play alone. When he was not playing he would stay indoors lost in his thoughts. His mother Savitri would often wonder what a kid so small would deeply think about?

So when that stray puppy followed him home Raghu thought he had found his best friend. The pup too had taken a great liking in him. They called him Sonu. He was all white with scattered black spots all over.

Sonu and Raghu were a bundle of joy together. A true treat for the eyes of his parents. It was like they were made for each other. The little pup wouldn't move from the door when Raghu was out at school. And once back home Sonu would be all over him, licking him all over his face. Sonu's low gruntling noises and Raghu's laughter had filled their home with pure happiness. They had never seen Raghu so happy and that is why Sudhakar and his pregnant wife Savitri too had become very fond of him.

"Raghu we will bring you a new one," Savitri had already told him this a hundred times since morning but he just wouldn't listen.

"Aai, is God angry with me?" he asked between sobs. He was lying on a torn carpet on the uneven floor with his head resting on his mother's lap.

"Why would God ever be angry with such a sweet boy"?

"First he made me limp and now he's taken away Sonu from me".

Sudhakar was choking inside. Savitri too was fighting her tears. Losing Sonu was a huge loss.

"Raghu if you come with me to our shop today, I'll get you 2 new puppies before Sunday".

"2 puppies? Really Baba"? Raghu asked wiping his tears.

"That's a promise".

Raghu jumped with joy.

"I don't think it's a good idea Sudhakar," Savitri said, " you are running late today. Raghu hasn't slept at all. He also has not eaten anything. He will bother you".

"Savitri I just want to give him some change".

"Aai please let me go with baba. I won't trouble him. Give me a glass of milk and 2 biscuits and I will be ready in 5 minutes".

"That's like my boy," Sudhakar said and picked him up in his arms.

Raghu was immediately filled with energy even before he had his milk. Savitri was happily smiling to herself. She knew the reason behind this sudden burst of energy.

"I will also give you your favourite cream roll and an ice-cream when we return", Sudhakar said as he prepared him for a bath.

Sudhakar used to sell tea, coffee, cream rolls, biscuits and cigarettes at his shop. Cold weather always meant good business. That is why he knew the 3 hours that he had lost today would have cost him 500 rupees atleast. It was too much for someone who was always running on a tight budget. His monthly income was almost equaling his expenses which included the room rent, school fees, daily expenses and Savitri's medical bills. He also had to send some money to his old parents back in the village every month. Now that his family was growing he was also thinking about renting a bigger space to stay.

Savitri, even though pregnant, was still slogging as a house maid to help him make ends meet. But he had decided now .He won't allow her to work anymore, no matter what. The lady she worked for made her toil hard even after knowing her condition. She almost slipped once while mopping wet floor.

"I would take up some odd labor jobs after dropping Raghu to school for some extra income," he said to himself as he quickly put the milk vessel, the paper cups and other items in the rented rickshaw. He picked up Raghu in his arms and left for work.

"Take care Savitri, we'll be back by 10," he told her before leaving.

By the time he reached his shop it was already 6.30. He briskly unlocked the door, removed a stool and asked Raghu to sit on it, just outside his shop. Raghu was wearing a half sleeves shirt, an old ill-fitting sweater which Savitri had purchased for Rs 200 from the lady she worked for, shorts and a pair of slippers.

"Late today"? A cobbler, Gopi, who worked on the pavement just next to his shop asked.

Sudhakar had a quick glance at Raghu who was carefully removing the tea cups from the box. He went a little closer to Gopi and told him about the pup. He also requested him to not bring it up in front of Raghu as that would hurt him again.

"Poor boy, no wonder he's looking so sad".

Raghu's eyes were still red from all the crying.

"Hello Raghu," Gopi greeted him animatedly.

"Hello Uncle".

"His face is too stressed for a 6 year old boy, " Gopi said in a concerning tone. "Children his age should laugh all the time and roam worry free. You should do something about this Sudhakar".

"I have promised him 2 puppies before Sunday. That will change things for him".

"I hope he gets all the happiness in the world," Gopi said as he looked at him affectionately. Raghu had by now removed all the cups and placed it on the table.

"You are a very good boy Raghu, you are helping your father".

Raghu could only manage a half smile in reply. He was deeply thinking about something.

Sudhakar had by now set up his shop and was waiting for his first customer impatiently.

"1 coffee," one of his regular customer came at the stall and asked.

"Sure Sir", he replied as he closed his eyes and looked towards the Gods in appreciation for his first customer.

"Why are you late today, I came down twice looking for you".

Sudhakar's tea shop was near a big business complex. Almost everyone from that building came to his shop for their tea and snacks.

"Here's your coffee Sir".

"Thanks".

"Cigarette"?

"Sorry, no cigarette today. My son is here with me," he said pointing towards Raghu.

"Oh.. ok. No problem. You are a great father".

"Thank you Sir".

"I hope you are sending him to a good school".

"Yes Sir, he goes to an English medium school. He is going to study and become a big man one day and not sell tea like me," he replied cheerfully. There was immense hope in his eyes for Raghu and he was proudly smiling all to himself as if he was actually seeing him becoming a big man in the future.

Soon a lot of customers started pouring in and Sudhakar got busy. Raghu was dozing on and off. One moment he would fall asleep and the next he would wake up with a jolt. Sudhakar was wondering if he did the right thing by bringing him to the shop.

Around 9 p.m all the milk was over. So were the other items. Sudhakar was happy that he had made good money. But Raghu was looking sad again.

"What happened Raghu, are you sleepy"?

It seemed he was lost somewhere and he didn't hear it.

"Raghu I am asking you. What happened?" he bent down and asked while playing with his hair.

"Baba, I am missing Sonu". Tears welled up in his little eyes and came running down his cheeks.

Sudhakar was shattered. He himself was close to tears. How can a small innocent boy like him carry such a heavy heart? He couldn't take it anymore. He picked him up in his arms and held him tightly.

But the next moment he quickly gathered himself and put him back on the stool.

"I think you have forgotten about the two puppies that I am going to gift you tomorrow," he said trying to cheer him up.

"But I only want Sonu", he replied with a breaking voice.

"They will be just like Sonu and you can play with them as much as you want. In fact we all will play together."

Sudhakar was sure once he brings those pups home Raghu will be happy again.

"Now sit here and have this cream roll I saved for you. I'll be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere. I am going to the next building to get some water. We clean it up and we'll be on our way back home. Of course with that ice-cream I promised".

"Okay Baba," he replied.

His eyes followed Sudhakar while he crossed the road in the heavy evening traffic and went to the other side. Sudhakar waved at him before disappearing in the basement of the building.

Suddenly there was a sparkle in Raghu's eyes.

"Sonu," he jumped in excitement.

He spotted Sonu right in the middle of the road wagging its tail excitedly at him.

"Sonu," he screamed again.

"What's the matter boy?" Gopi asked.

"Look Uncle, my Sonu has come back".

Raghu was ecstatic and getting impatient.

"Who's Sonu"?

"My pup, my best friend".

"Where is he, I can't see him"?

"There he is in the middle of the road".

Gopi got up to get a better view.

"But I still can't see him".

Raghu saw a speeding SUV at some distance. He panicked. He didn't want to lose him again. He limped as fast as he could to get Sonu to safety.

Gopi watched in horror as the driver of the SUV tried hard to avoid hitting Raghu. But it was too late.

"Baba," he screamed.

A young woman who had come for her evening stroll screamed and fainted at the spot.

Gopi too collapsed on the road.

Even as the horrified crowd tried lifting the wheels of the SUV, Raghu quickly got up , picked up Sonu in his arms and walked off in the direction of a bright ray of light.

Sonu was happily licking his face, while Raghu laughed and kissed him back.

"Look Sonu, I am not limping anymore," he said animatedly.

#fiction #writing #love #father #relationships #family