#ex-queen splendor

[wingsofdesigns]

In every conflict in an animated movie that includes multiple people, Splendor is the one character that pretty much looks the camera dead in the eye and screams, "we're all going to die" and continues to froth at the mouth crying panicking phrases and running for their lives and being a way too loud comedy gag here and there.

[widowsofchaos]

Spit Blossoms

summary: hell has no fury like it’s rageful majesty. pairing: hades!bucky x persephone!black!reader ao3 // ballad lores from the crypt masterlist warnings: 18+, intense character death, ruthless darkness, smidge of angst, dark character moment, angry filthy smut, jealous Persephone --- haha, we’re in danger. a/n: based on the myth of Minthe, who was in love with Hades --- many twisted retellings, and various versions, but truly, Hades would never stray from Persephone, and that’s just fucking facts. Kindred spirits for eternity. Persephone isn’t just a docile goddess, she feeds off the darkness, she rules it. Queen of the underworld for a reason. Do not repost my works, you will be reported.

Underneath the pureness of a floral maiden, who controls the splendor of spring to her will ---- deep in the crevices of her spirit, resides inky darkness.

Even by the echoes of delicate footfalls, jolts shudders of fear throughout the hellish realm. The dreary eyes of decrypted renaissance paintings that canvas the castle walls watch it’s majesty flee.

Fury swirls akin to restless wet eels slithering upon her weeping heart, soft fingers curl into fists --- leaving a trail of fire in her wake, whisking herself away to hide in her quarters.

Desperate hoarse shouts of her name, and hasty steps pierces another crack at her heart --- her name bounces against the luxurious onyx marbling pavements, a hymn within the stretched crafted hallway; ghoulish help scour away in the shadows, parting from their majesty akin to the red sea.

Her heart thumps wildly against the cavity, swallowing a sob down to her tight throat. Chin wobbles, but held high in the air, defying the urge to crumble into nothingness among any prying eyes.

Open-palms thud against the massive wooden doors to the grand bedroom, loudly the hinges swing.

An luxurious chamber, walls painted inky black, carved marbling, resembling an ancient cathedral. The marital bed encased in a transparent canopy curtains,

A tender snarl, fingers tug at her tresses ends down her chest, a slight burn at the scalp, huffs of air --- ‘the nerve of that pórni. Claims to possess the affections of my king.’

Shakingly her marital palm comes to her weary gaze, holding it, fingertips fondling the sparkling crimson ruby, the opulent ring carved with skull flowers, and his vows of forever love engraved inside the slope of the ring --- instinctively, brings the ring to her lips, kissing it, as tears water her knuckles.

“My heart, please.” A gruff cry lingers near the doorway, startled feet hastily squeak against the floor, a gasp leaves his wet lips, chest heaving, heart beating anxiously.

Tresses disheveled, curled ends behind his ears. There, standing coolly at the closet is his love, his only love rummaging for spare clothes that slung over her fore-arm, his eyes widened, spring fabric --- she’s leaving.

“Spring will come early this year.” A hiss, a wet sniffle.

“NO.” He roars, it bounces against the castle’s walls, no doubt, all of the underworld hears his cries. Stomping towards her, he rips the spring green fabric from her hands, flings the torn silk, and cotton overhead, not caring where it lands.

Her palms fly up against her chest, a defensive stance, “No worries, that filthy little nymph can warm your cold heart.” Cautiously, her heels click backwards, nearing the wall, not wanting to feel his warmth --- if she does, she’ll melt, fall back into his arms; but that’s what she yearns for.

Even in a tiny space of separation, two spirits weep --- a tiny breath of death.

“You will not leave me to rot alone for another few months, you just got back.” His voice cracks, oceanic hues glassy, nose scrunched.

His palms itch to touch her flesh, soft flesh, bask in her glow, her light that radiates in waves --- how only her presence has thawed the icy frost of his dead heart.

Centuries of eternal marital bliss, an unbreakable bond, deep-rooted trust, now being questioned by the presence of an ex-lover, tears kiss his lashes, ‘How little does she think of me for her to easily slip into the madness of jealousy?’

But then again --- how many decapitated heads have he rolled down the grand stairs of his hellish manor, how many souls has he banished to the darkest pits, for just merely glancing at his queen?

“Stay back, Hades.” She bites back with a weak sneer, eyes shine wet --- a murky flurry of mixed emotions battle heavily on her mind, to scratch him yet caress him, to bite him yet to kiss him, to fight him yet her flesh desires to make-love right there on the chilled marbled floor.

He scoffs, eyes wide --- shines wetly back at hers, not even his mortal pseudonym James, nor Bucky; once it irate him when his immortal comrades jokingly called him those names to tease, and jab, instead of referring him by his title.

But once she tenderly she said those silly names, as if a holy hymn, suddenly those names no longer held such bitterness.

“Hades, huh?” Bucky repeats, a timbre of disbelief, his voice drips an octave lower, risking another step towards her, “That’s your name, is it not?” She deadpans, her eyes narrowed into slits, the slope of her button nose scrunches, as her shoulder-blades meet the wall.

He hissed her human name, “Don’t get fucking cheeky.” Bucky hisses, his bearded moue twitch, hunching over now akin to a snarling beast --- he will be damned to let her return to the earthly realm, for her to disregard him as such.

“It’s Persephone, you will address me as such. Not my mortal name.” Her plump breasts heave a bit against the tied corset, sombre and scarlet; a crafted macabre dress fit for a queen, an ode to her king.

The slick ebon hue that adorns her lids, resembles the crafty lashes of a feline --- sharp, and alluring.

Such morbid colors drape her bronze skin, rich brown flourishes. Bucky clicks his tongue, his face morphs with a smirk curling, chuckling to himself.

“We’re beyond formalities, my queen. Especially since my cock knows how velvety sweet your cunt is.”

“Don’t be so vulgar.” The clicks of her heels skitter, and fumble against the flooring, the skin of her back sticking against the pavement, chastising herself for how her mound soaks within seconds --- that filthy mouth of his spell bounds her.

“You love it. I can already smell you.” Bucky growls, resembling a beast, the raw form of a grotesque God, but even in that being, she loves him so --- physically and emotionally.

Closer now, menacing crystalline hues shadowed under a brow.

“Stay back.” She repeats once more, but her voice trembles, nostrils still flaring, brows furrowing pitifully, “Don’t get close to me. If I catch your scent, or even feel your touch --- I’ll ---” Breathy gasp.

Spidery fingers laxly flutter, ‘you’ll what?’ Bucky teases under his breath --- closer now. Caging her, forbidding her from any escape, his pulsating arms stretch, and his thick hands pin beside her head, rumbling with desire.

Featherily lips peck her forehead, his breathing a bit harder now, fanning her scalp; her pupils roll to the back of her skull.

As if his touch is a balm. Stroking the tip of his nose against coils of curls, inhaling her natural scent, crushed rose petals, “I’m not like my brothers, I will never stray from my beloved.” Such affirmations breathe upon her hairline lovingly.

The thread snaps.

Soft palms swiftly cup his jaw, desperate, her breathing heavy, standing on the tips of her toes to reach his pout; lips smashing against his, breathy gnarls, wet tongues dance and flutter between open lips, gnashing teeth, muffled moans.

His hands dash, and fondle upon her bodice, sneaking from the curve of her waist, to the slope of the tailbone, kneading her bum through the dress --- bundling the fabric between his fingers.

Frenzied, he grips, fingers digging into her skin, a quick swat, the rings adorning his fingers sent a shiver up the crevices of her spine; groping, and squeezing possessively.

Oval nails wove within the locks, gently caressing his scalp, a flow of endless moan rolls from his throat; a sweet tug at the roots.

Pulling her lips away from his, he scoffs, displeased to be disconnected from her lips; Bucky growls and bites at her chin, she hushes him.

Fingers leisurely massaging, his eyes dilated, nearly rolling in his head. Her pearly canines twinkle, her face hairs away from his, coddling nose to nose, how pleasant his weight leans upon hers; limbs entangled.

“Kneel before your queen.” A hot whisper, a sly smirk forms upon his jaw, with ease Bucky’s knees bends down to the floor, sliding down, sitting himself right between her open legs.

Bucky clicks his tongue tauntingly, and can feel her heat wafting. No panties --- no need, never.

Christening every surface of this manor is a daily ritual --- the walls, the floor, the dining table, the seat of his throne  --- that’s Bucky’s favorite spot, he feels power swell through his spirit, and cock; as he sits upon his royal chair, his love’s precious jewel split and wet upon his dick.

“If you love me --- beg like the hellhound you are.” Massaging his shoulders under her soothing palms, squeezing just a bit, reminding him to remain on his knees.

“Cold woman --- you would do anything for me to be at your feet.” The silver rings deliciously glides against her skin, as his fingers snuck under the hem of the dress, looping his tips through the black fishnets, a clean rip pierces through the air --- shredded pieces fly through the air, a sting radiates behind, but pain and pleasure … It's their love language.

“But my love, isn’t this your favorite position?” Her fingers grip at his chestnut tresses, as her palm fondles his dimpled chin lovingly, how delicious his beard stubble prickles against the pad of her thumb.

Bucky’s pink moist tongue slithers and curves between his lips, a hot grunt fans against her bare leg, her thigh quivers, moaning salaciously by the throat.

A wet glide of the tongue against the meat of her thigh, not once his eyes waver from hers --- a breathy gasp, sucking through her canines.

Traveling the terrain of supple flesh, along the path of her inner thigh, her heat warms his redden cheeks, lips suckling right at her pulse point, as the cup of his hand cradles her thigh.

He loves how her hips reflexively lift, just to hold her still, under his grip --- his lips halt, just mere hairs away from the slick hickey, faint hue of lavender blooming.

Tracing the line of her shin, down the smooth glide to her ankle, rubbing the arch of her foot tenderly --- fingertips caress featherlight on the sensitive skin back and forth, igniting a fire in her veins; how her heart swells at the sight of him kneeling at her feet, as if a devote at an alter, whispering her name as a holy prayer --- the orchestration of such euphoric devotion.

“For you, my heart --- I’ll crawl through hell-fire.”

Wordlessly, Bucky dives head-first within her mound, with an animalistic growl, his hands cupping her ass, holding her in place as he feasted upon her cunt. Eyes roll back, lashes flutter, a whining moan bubbles.

Hips grind against his flat tongue, slurping her wet lips between his slick mouth, flickering her pulsating clit with his tongue --- feathery fast flicks, driving her mind to lustful madness.

Oceanic hues glaring into her hazel orbs, her sepia skin glistens, and glows akin to gold by the lit candles, basking a halo over her heavenly bodice --- a ‘mmm hmph’ groan vibrates from his spilt mouth, knowing his love is close to the brink.

His girth hardens within his pants, at the mere sight of his wife trembling by his touch. Fingernails scratching at the skin, ache intermixing in the waves of pleasure.

A god on his knees, but she’s the one who he worships.

Bruises bloom in lavender hues --- his wet tongue licks her slick, her plump lips split upon his mouth, as his lips devoured her mound --- so soft, and slick.

The slick of her soppy cunt echoes against Bucky’s pink tongue, pierces through the dense silence, a debauched cadence that spurs her lover, his growing cock drips, and stains his trousers.

Broken whines bubbles at her throat, one palm gripping her hair --- coiling curls tightly woven between her spidery fingers, as the other found refuge in Bucky’s hair, tips massaging and scratching his scalp.

Dull sting left in the wake of her nails, it only fuels the fire in his loins. Pain and pleasure --- there is no difference, the two sides of a coin.

Eyes pinched shut, almost there, close to the edge, her hips grinding wildly against his mouth, hair tousled. Choppy pants, airy, gasping, with tears trickling down her cheeks.

Bucky halts, his fingers digging, and pausing her waist, the pads of his thumbs caressing her hip-bones.

“Bucky …” A wet, weak snarl, with pitiful eyes glaring at him; sucking her bottom lip as a weepy toddler. “Look at me,” Bucky rasps, pupils blown, her slick drips, and coats his beard with a shine, softly kisses her weak inner thigh, a sticky kiss mark, “I wanna see you, my love.”

A submissive nod, her eyes dazed, and cloudy; lips parted in a tiny dreamy smile. Even through the hazy cloud, she knows what he implies, oh she knows --- many times has she begged to see his eyes as he comes undone.

Even after many centuries of being together, the mere sight of seeing each other undone, staring into each other’s soul is beautiful.

His lips suckle her clit once more, an exhaled breath heaves from her lips, her chin wobbles. Nerves alit, her Venus belt tightens, and grinds wildly on Bucky’s mouth, his growls vibrate against her cunt; his growls become animalistic, purely primal.

More intense as her whines become higher pitched. Bucky’s head shakes from side to side, suckling her clit, snarling as a wolf devouring its feast.

Ungodly scream of his name, shrills and echoes. This feeling in their chests, it’s love, a limb-loosener, it rattles to the morrow. Tears flood her eyes, squirts of her cum dribbles from the corners of his lips, dripping off his stubble cheeks.

Skin a flamed, caressing his beard against her inner thigh, lips parted, his moist tongue licks, savoring her softness, always so soft; a delicious burn that will make her ache for days.

Heavy breaths, her chest heaves, hoarse throat --- an irritable beast swirls deep in her gut, her deep burgundy tip traces his sharp jawline, beckoning his gaze to hers. Bucky purrs at her dilated pupils, as well as his.

“I need to feel you.” She sultry whispers, her thumb glides sweetly against his wet bottom lip, sneaking inside his mouth; his canines nibble her thumb, the tip of his tongue flicks.

Smooches softly the pad of her thumb, without hesitation, Bucky scrambles to his feet, his cock still hard and swollen.

His fingers grips the curve of her neck, cupping the nape of her neck, his rings jolt a chill upon her warm skin; tasting and smelling her own nectar from his tongue. Her sweet essence tasted of the finest ambrosia, sticky honey of spring.

Deep kisses that left even Bucky light-headed, always needing his wife like air. “My sweet sunflower,” another kiss, “I could never betray you.”

Bucky spoke huskily, lips wisp against lips, “I am yours, just as you are mine.” Her pillowy lush lip trapped between his teeth, sucking, dragging.

“You’re mine.” The words trembled from her lips, almost a sob, as the tips of their noses fondle together, mouths parted, breathing each other’s essence. Bucky bashfully nods, with a sweet bleary smile, a flicker of darkness sparks in her glassy eyes. He pleads, “Say it again.”

“You’re mine.” One of her palms travels from his bicep, to his side of his torso, to his thick thigh, to the swollen cock that weeps. A handful of his manhood, massive and throbbing against her fingers, earning a growl.

“All mine.” She hisses once more, a grin, all fangs. Snarling as an irritable beast, Bucky whimpers pitifully at her saccharine affirmations of eternal love, “Body, and soul.” Rubbing cheek to cheek, scenting each other, just skin to skin.

“Make love to me. Ravish me, fucking use me.” Bucky whispers by the shell of her ear, but it’s husky, wanton --- desperate. Wet bee-stung lips nibble, and kiss his dimpled chin, split lips suck, her tongue flickers; the sensation of stubble hairs tickle the pink muscle.

Limbs entangled, slippery tongues twirl, and dance; Bucky cleverly diving his hands under her ass, fingers digging into the supple skin harshly, she hisses at his touch.

Curling her legs around his waist, her fingers interlocking at the nape of his neck. Steady steps ingrained by muscle memory, walking to the bed, ceremonially he lays her down.

Love-stricken eyes bore into his, fingers stretch and flex out for him; hast palms tug at his collar, buttons pop and fly, never once did his eyes leave her.

Unveiling his chest, strong and muscled --- how godly his chest illuminates by the dim lit candles, the flourish bleeds maroon upon his chest hair as the ichor from the pits of his father’s belly.

“So beautiful,” Bucky whispers, shedding the fine cotton from his shoulders, glides down his toned arms, “Let me see you.”

Daintily, and teasingly, her hands fondle the skin of her breasts, untying the silk strings that are woven within the corset’s hooks; gracefully her breasts heave from the bodice flaps, perky and succulent.

A heat stirs deep in her belly at the sound of his belt, leaning her torso up just a bit to toss the loose corselet, not caring where it landed; as Bucky unzipped his pants, his fingers sneaking into the unbuttoned trousers, slowly and tortuously palming his thick girth, panting low.

The tip of her pink tongue licks her upper lip leisurely, craving to taste his cock.

The flickering candle lights dance upon her bronze skin, voluminous amber shines the room; eyeing her brown nipples, his hands dive to pinch and twist. A pained whine, her head falls back in satisfaction, a crooked grin forms on Bucky’s face, humming low.

Bending her legs around his waist, arching feet snagged at his loose pants, toes flex and grip the hem; pulling it downward, letting it pool at his ankles.

Proudly his cock hung high, pulsating, thick, and dripping wet. She growls weakly, fingers reaching and pawing at the bobbing dick. Without any word, Bucky rips her bottom dress, the fluffy layers strewn in small pieces, excited grunts, his canines bearing.

Biting her lip, she gazes at him lovingly, as he steps out of his pants, crawling over her, his shoulders flexing tauntingly, steel eyes and chestnut tresses kiss his lashes --- two lovers bare, and vulnerable.

Her eyes are soft, and sheens glassy. Beaming doe eyes, lashes flutter, how she lays spread eagle underneath him, gleaming as if she was still virginal, yet still so pure.

It's like their honeymoon all over again, all those centuries ago. Innocence radiated, perfumed skin of crushed flowers, soft petaled kisses, how she held his battered body tenderly, opened up to him as a wet flower.

Yet --- she took all of him that night, where his true form sprouted, and ravaged her body. His wings hugged her, as he made love to her; how her fingers fondled his horns. It was that night, where he discovered something inside of her, something dark --- there’s much more to her spirit than just spring flowers, and humility.

He brought forth a darkness from her, cracked open her heart, and saw a goddess of

That darkness flickers a flame once more in her eyes.

“My heart, tell me what you want.” Huskily he spoke, his lips featherly grazing hers, not fully giving in.

“You know what I want.” She moans, nuzzling her nose against his.

“I want to hear you say it,” A kiss on her nose, “Moan it for me.” Bucky encased his arms around her head, her curls tickling his skin.

“I want you to touch me.” She spoke in the crock of his neck, kissing right under his ear. Her ass lifts off the bed, grinding her wet mound against his cock. Melting bodies, limbs fondling, her nails digging into his back --- Bucky knows exactly what she wants.

He clicks his tongue, “No,” he drags, “I know you too well, there’s something you want.” He nibs her cheek, with a kiss. Panting, pawing at Bucky’s shoulder-blades, whining, he has the nerve to laugh.

Bashfully, she hides her face in the arch of his neck, but the fire within her roars louder now, he can feel her rage, love, and possession sweat off her skin.

“Even after all these years, you’re still so shy.” Bucky teases, kissing her temple, “Tell your dear husband what you want.” He whispers, demanding for her to speak. “What is it? Do you want me underneath you, quivering?” Teases her with his lips, she leans in for a kiss, but he pulls away smugly.

“Yes.” She cries.

“What else?” He probes teasingly.

She bites his shoulder, her fiery snark returns, his eyes flutter closed, groaning in pleasure, “There she is.” This is what he wants too, to be broken down, for her to screw him senseless, possessing him entirely.

He knows her jealousy is still rearing its ugly head, a tiny monster spewing lies that maybe he’s finally tired of her after all these years.

Never.

He will destroy Heaven and Earth just for her.

Bucky rolls himself on his back, pulling his wife on top of himself, her fingers treading in his chest hair; gulping back the tightness in her throat, scratching her nails down his chest.

“You want to be used? For me to fuck you, my love? To ride you, make you empty your balls inside me?” She twirls her venus belt slowly, grinding herself on himself, how her velvety folds glide against the veins of his throbbing cock.

“Yes.” Bucky hisses, his head tilting back against the mattress, his hands clutching onto her hips, guiding her, soaking his cock with her wetness. “My love, all I want is you.”

Her fingers sweetly cup his throat, firmly but not harshly, leaning down, her lips catching his. Plump and wet, murmuring between kisses, Bucky relishing in being handled by her hand.

The moisture of her desire shines, thin strings of her essence connects with his pubic hair, Bucky nearly howls torturously at the now leisure pace, “Please, fuck me. Let me worship you, as you should be.” Lifting herself up by the knees, legs still split wide for him, feline eyes gawk him --- sharp and possessive.

Her wet lips shine, her cunt welcoming his hung cock --- how obscene he splits her open, such debauched moans erupts unison. Swallowing him whole, sitting down taking him inch by inch. Knees softly graze against the silk sheets, as she descends upon his torso.

A hoarse groan flows from Bucky at the warmth of her mound, how plump it sits against his pelvis, his thick pubic hair tickling her cunt --- it’s erotic yet tender how her tuft of curls, and his sleek hair creates such a soft sensation. Damp with their essence, creates a melody.

She bounces aggressively on his cock, a surge of heat flows through her veins, her hips thrash back and forth with vigor; sending her husband into a maddening frenzy.

The bed creaks a bit from the intensity of two bodies crashing and melding into one, the headboard nearly thumping against the wall pavement.

Huffs and pants pierce the silence, as her fingers clench just a bit tighter, his fingertips stroke the dimples at the end of her spine; whispering under choppy breaths, ‘harder, you know I can take it.’

More like need it, to feel her grip as she bounces on his cock. Her fucking him --- taking him apart from piece to piece.

Her lips spilt into a wicked crescent moon, the dim candle light illuminating it. Such naughty thoughts run rampant in her pretty head, biting down on his lip; a shiver runs up Bucky’s spine at the sheer devious beast above him that he is blessed to call his wife.

A little jolt of her hips makes him sob, eyes pinching shut once more, Bucky growls ‘again, please again.’

Her ass jiggles from her frenzied bodice, clenching him once more tightly, that strings a cracked boyish moan, high-pitched; his head perks up, his messy loose tresses bounce as his eyes get watery.

Pretty pink mouth parted open, gasping, as he watched her still her hips, roll it teasingly in circular motion, teasing him, tugging him to the edge, but yet never over.

“Yes,” his lips quivering, jaw slack, overcome with emotion how memorizing she hovers over him, how good the gushy walls of her feels wrapped around him.

“So beautiful, my love,” she croons, and his heart swells with pride, “Doing so good.” How proud she is at his restraint, to keep his hands at waist-level, to not let the beast within him unleash itself upon her, to take control, how steady his pelvis is.

Her fingers find solace in his hair, grips it, and pulls his head back a bit; as her other palm still holds firm at his throat.

Owlish eyes, wet and docile, gazes at her with such gentility --- as if he was once a youth, before the hardened shell of a god regurgitated from the fiery pits of his father; pure, he looks pure, and trusting.

How marvelous --- the only soul to break down Hades himself, to shattered pieces, “So good for me,” her voice lowers kindly, eased on lust, he tries to catch her lips as she leans over him, but she holds him still, shushing his whimpering.

“Good boy, so good for me.” Beads of tears flow down his cheeks, watering his beard, foreheads connect, “Say it for me.” She pleads, picking up the pace of her hips now, more earnest, needy.

“I’m yours.”

She hisses now, “Again, say it again!” Her breath fans his face, but he gladly breathes it in. “I’m -- argh -- yours!” Flashes of a certain nymph prancing around her manor, claiming her space, and ill attempts to claim her soulmate as hers --- it drives her mad.

A fire at her throat now, urges to say more now, profanities and such filth of her lover. Arching her back just a little as a preening feline, her head wanes back, wild curls flies and bounces, at such bliss of his throbbing cock pulsating; as if her cavity splits open, and wild orchids bloom.

He licks his lips, salivating at the mere sight of her tits --- jiggling in his face. Huffing, his head leaning up for his mouth to latch on her nipples, soft brown nipples.

Bucky’s tongue flickers, trying to lick her breast, whining. She notices in midst of her haze, a devious smirk, she tsks him, “What?” She plays coy. “Would you like some?” As she gropes and pinches her breast, taunting him.

“Hm?” She probes, teasing him as she pinches her nipple tightly between her finger tips, jiggling it in the cup of her palm.

Bucky nearly sobs, “Yes, please. I beg you, my love.” She rides him harder, faster, driving him to the brink. Leaning forward, she tenderly lets Bucky latch upon her breast, like a rabid dog, sucking and biting.

She moans at the sensation of his tongue swirling, lapping at her nipple. Saliva slicks her flushed flesh, vulgar slurps, she whines in delight.

Eyes pinched shut, cradling his head with her hand, her fingers caressing his scalp, as his wet cock thrusts deeper and deeper in her cunt.

His hips crash against hers, his wet balls slapping her clenching asshole --- soaking, and puckering. A melody of skin slapping against skin echoes against the walls, his fingers tightly gripping her waist.

The noises her cunt is making is obscene, sticky precome clings to the skin of his cock, pumping erratically.

Her back is sweaty now, some strands cling to the dew, as such her baby hairs to her forehead; his hair clings to his face as well. The sheets crumple now, a few corners now strewn off from the covers.

“Gods --- look how your pussy just drools over my dick,” an airy laugh from Bucky, his eyes flickering from steel blue to vermilion that glows within the candlelight, “My queen, how insatiable you are.”

One hand scrambles for her thigh, his thumb fondling the skin, an unspoken promise, that he’s here, always there.

Almost there --- nearly tumbling over the edge, the coil is tightening, ready to snap. United beat of sex, and two hearts create holy escatasy.

Thunderous growl emits from Bucky, his timbre falling into an octave, resembling such power --- voices now melting into each other, tightens something in the gut and chest. The pads of her fingertips grip his throat, Bucky is breathless, but he grins wickedly.

Everything is hot white, vision blurs, a shriek bubbles out, and a broken groan. Two bodies shake, and quake, clinging onto each other by possessive hands. Unholy matrimony.

Her entire body slumps upon his, her palm lax at the base of throat, his arms quickly encasing her back, then traveling by her head.

Kissing her temple, her face resting at the crook of his neck. Lazily, their bodies tilts to the side, heavy breathing, and strained whines --- still connected by the sex.

He hums low in his throat, “Ah,” he sighs, kissing her slick lips, his bicep slithers under her arm, as his fingers caress her curls, fiddling with the loose jeweled clips from limp coils.

“Feel better?” Nuzzling his nose against hers, both erupting in low chuckles, placid limbs entangled. Her leg clings to his thigh, her toes grazing the bare skin of his ankle.

His eyes become more serious, his fingers grasp her jaw, her cheeks slightly squish cutely in a pout, “Don’t ever think I would leave you.” His nose flares, his breathing choppy, and heavy at the mere notion of separation.

“I love you --- you’re my life. I was nothing before you --- once I saw you in that garden, flowers blooming around you,” his voice lowered to a whisper, “I swear my heart soared.” A wavering smile, at the memory of him catching sight of a pure angel.

“I just had to have you.” His voice trembles, bottom lip quivering, sniffling, his eyes flutter closed, stroking his cheek against hers. She sniffles, biting back a sob, cradling him closer to herself.

Persephone just can’t imagine a life without Hades, to live without him, such tragedy --- she will die from a broken heart, let her corpse float in the rivers of the Underworld, in search of him.

“I love you.” She speaks. A kiss, another, and a third --- more kisses follow. Sloppy kisses are the only sound in the air, needy moans, murmuring of undying love.

My love, my life.

---

Clicks of heels obnoxiously echo against the marbling, hips sway, an insolent stride demanding unrightful attention --- loyal decrypted guards witness with snickering eyes, smirks adorning grotesque moues; the gall of it all.

Soft, and onyx gauze bellows timidly by the brisk wind clung to crafted high-ceiling windows, beyond the manor’s horizon was the underworld in it’s tragic beauty --- the Styx river flows and circles upon the castle, a shiver runs down her skin at the memory of her travel across the river.

Charon’s filthy palms gripping her fore-arm, how he dragged her onto his boat, sunken eyes jet smoldering fire blazing her with such hatred, nearly smacking her in the face with the tail-end of his unwashed cloak.

How wicked he swirled his unkempt beard that clung to his chin between his thin fingers, grumbling under his breath, as she sat at the far-end of the boat, flinching at the ghostly palms of the dead reaching out; hissing in disgust. She always hated being surrounded by the dead, skin crawling.

“We have arrived.” A gravelly voice lingered, a hoarse chuckle, “Enjoy the honored feast with our majesty.” Hunched, decrypted being shook a bit at the shoulders, as if a joke the little nymph wasn’t privy to.

Too proud to bow down, a salacious smirk, graciously standing up from her seat, she spoke with conviction, “Yes --- a wonderful dinner with Hades is exactly an honor.”

The blatant disrespect.

Adorning her bodice was a revealing attire, a black slick dress with low-cut of plump cleavage, a waist-high cut unveiling her thigh, her hip-bone peaking out from the hem, smooth coiled hair lays on her shoulders, rouge painted lips.

A gold necklaces drape from her neck, slender fingers hold flower-encrusted rings, smoky eyes scanning the home that she dreams to be hers --- a tacky tactic, a display of cheap seduction.

Fiery red hair that flows straight down to her tailbone tickles her revealing back, as she digs in her clutch purse for an extra coat of gloss.

Musing pride blooms, act two of her grand scheme, showing up yesterday unexpected, Bucky hasn’t seen her for ages, after their ugly break-up, she moved from the Cocytus river, and left to wonder in the river of Lethe, stewing and inhabiting the cave of Hypnos with other nymphs.

Frankly --- Bucky forgot all about her, not a thought spent on her.

Surly growls erupt, fumbling feet nearly buckle her ankles inward, like a clumsy doe --- an inhuman shrill heaves from her chest --- her rapid heartbeat beats against the cup of her palm.

Descending from the corner of the corridors, snarling beasts foaming at the fangs; fiery red eyes, and licking their wet snouts, pointed ears flexing back; nearly three times huskier than the average earthly canine. Paws nimble, shoulders roving akin to a predator.

Shooing them away with a lame swat of her hand, nearly choking a sob --- just inches away from being devoured, “Go away, you nasty mutts!” Backing by her heels, almost cornered by the wall, the dogs don’t let up, her aggravated fear just spurs them on.

“Ela edo.”

Whimpers, and whines vibrate low, bowing heads, ears flopping down, timid paws pad towards a menacing figure standing tall by the grand staircase, crystalline hues under a strong brow --- Bucky’s pups moping that they couldn’t tear their fangs into flesh.

Twirling their massive bodies against his legs, tails wagging, happy to be shielding Bucky, as his knuckles caressed their furry domes.

“Greetings, Minthe.” Curt smile, yet polite --- pulled through the teeth.

The hellhounds grumble low at the throat at the mere mention of her name, her sour scent sends the two dogs in a frenzy of rage.

A nervous titter heaves from her shiny lips, Minthe’s mouth wavers into an anxious smile, toe-stepping far from the dogs, “Oh darling, why so formal?” Taut lean shoulders pose, returning back into her flirtatious gait, statuesque legs seductively walk with purpose.

“We know each other all too well, Bucky. Remember that sweet nickname you gave me?” Every word she speaks is as if she's lulling a moan, a weak attempt to entice.

“Yes, I remember --- Dot.”

Dot hums, her eyes half-hooded, “I’ve missed you. I’m so glad you invited me back.” Inching closer to him, “My apologies for yesterday. I hope I didn’t cause any distribution.” Faux sympathetic lashes flutter innocently, smug satisfaction at the memory of Persephone storming away at the mere presence of Minthe.

Bucky biting a sneer, thinking to himself, how did he ever come to love her? To the point of naming an earthly garden plant after her in honor? What a fool he was, all the faded memories of Minthe’s jealous fits, and possessiveness washes over him as a icy bath.

Bucky waves his dogs off, straying more near the end of the stairs but never far. “No harm, no foul. Just a misunderstanding, right?” Gritting subtly through his teeth, a small grated voice reminding him to hold his rage.

Treading closer to her now, he forces his hands to cup hers, “It’s good to see you again, Dot.” Minthe doesn’t even hide a dreamy sigh at his touch, her thumb caressing his inner wrist.

She giggles, a high-pitched one; her eyes scan the hellish alcazar, noticing a few changes, a softer touch --- she bites on her tongue, begrudgingly aware of who’s touch.

Anxious eyes scan the paintings of the macabre, death and hell immortalized in ancient paint oil. “Nice new decor, a bit dreary but then again,” a flutter of lashes, a cock of her head, “you were always one for the dramatics, Jamie.” Puckering her lips, musing over her bare shoulder, shimmies her hips a bit.

“Thank you, he likes when I decorate.” A melodic voice lingers, and pierces the silence.

Bucky twists his head hastily, his eyes softening, cloudy with love, walking away from Dot without a second look, excited feet carrying Bucky to her, open arms ready to hold her, as if centuries have passed without her touch.

Dot nearly stomps her foot on the ground as a miffed toddler, how easily Bucky ignored her --- as if she was nothing.

Descending down the stairs, with a serpent stride, effortless, and regal; adorning a sangria silk gown, flows like waves at her feet, curls coiled at the shoulders, soft dewy lips, lantern sleeves drapes her taut lean arms, a tied corset top that amples her breasts but not to vulgar --- but what made Minthe nearly hurl in her mouth, was how beautifully her crown rested upon her head.

Sparkles in the light, with the elegant rubies twinkle against the gold; marbled by the finest craftsmanship --- anything for his love.

Dainty feet hurry to Bucky’s arms, grabs her wrist, kissing her inner palm lovingly, engulfing her in his tight hug. Such a strong juxtaposition between the two betrothed, but yet, both complement each other perfectly, a yin-yang.

His lips find the crock of her neck, that perfect spot between her ear, and pulse point. Her arms encase around his neck, scenting him; guileful eyes peer over his shoulder, staring down at Minthe, fuming at the ears, disregarded as Bucky devours Persephone.

Her fingers wove itself in his hair, kissing his temple, never taking her eyes off of Minthe --- demonstrating her territory, goading that Bucky is hers, and hers only. Purposely a small flicker of her marital finger as if hovering an unattainable prize, as if saying ‘no matter what you do, you'll never win.’

“Well hello, Minthe.” Her tone light, but mirth festering underneath, such a malicious grin; as if just aware of Minthe’s presence.

“Hello.” Sharp, and straight to the point, eyes narrowed into slits; unbeknownst to the little nymph, Persephone had to dig her fingers on Bucky, restraining him from strangling her, from Minthe’s disrespectful greeting.

All in due time.

“It’s nice, you’ve accepted the invitation. I wanted to start anew with you, a clean slate.” Persephone moved forward, unreadable eyes shimmering with kindness, but it’s eerie how she smiles.

Bucky biting back a whine for having to move his face from her throat; his arm loops around her waist, fingers tenderly gripping onto her hip-bone, the pad of his thumb rubbing against the thin fabric. Her open-palm rubs sweetly between his shoulder-blades, to the curve of his waist.

Always have to be near, never far.

Minthe’s eyes widen owlishly, “Oh?” Mouth ajar, clears her throat, “I would like that indeed, yesterday was such a mess. I never intended to be so rude.”

Barely making eye-contact with Persephone, ‘Cunt.’ she bites back in her head, ‘Liar.’ Minthe’s mind began brainstorming, perhaps this dinner won’t be so bad, could benefit her to gain trust, weave herself back into Hades’ heart, right under Persephone’s nose.

Eyes meet eyes, silently pushing and shoving each other, who will crack first? Snarky remarks edging at the tip of their tongues, but bite down.

“Shall we? The dining hall is prepared for us.” Bucky speaks, hooded playful eyes, his arm extended towards the hallway, for both ladies to take their step. Distant shoulder to shoulder now, briskly walking, making small chatter, more of Persephone curious questioning about the earthly realm.

‘Silly little spring maiden.’

‘Pathetic little nymph.’

---

The small feast for three, but perfectly cooked nonetheless.

Goblets filled to the brim with wine, ambrosia weighs on tongues, small kisses here and there, tasting the elixir off of each other’s hot lips. Platters of fresh fruits, seasoned smoked fish, cheese, figs, and eggs, a nice meal --- but not enough for Minthe.

Expecting a grand splendor of food, flicks her fork around the food as it scrapes against the ceramic plate, angrily glaring at the two lovers across the table.

Seated on his lap was her.

Engrossed in each other, it was as if Minthe wasn’t even there. Bucky’s lips nibbled on Persephone’s bare shoulder, smooching on her collarbone; he must have whispered something filthy in her ear, causing her to hide her face against his giggling, as he cheekily bounced her on his leg.

“Bucky ---” Minthe hiss, drops her fork, it clunks against the plate, creating a loud echo, catching the attention of two pairs of eyes, “Why did you invite me?”

Her hands lay ontop of each other, resting her chin, “Cause it seems to me that I’m just a third wheel.” Snagging her cup, downing a hefty gulp, her speech becoming slurred.

Bucky scoffs, “My love, maybe it’s best she didn’t come by, dinners are best when it’s just you and me.” Not even trying to acknowledge Minthe, as she giggles through her nose; Minthe squawks in frustration.

“Oh, Bucky --- remember how we used to dine?” Minthe slithers, biting her lip. Bucky growls, “Don’t start.” Cradling his wife closer to his chest.

“You used to whisper sweet promises in my ear, feed each other fruits, and drink wine, how we froliced in the gardens ---” Her eyes darted now into Persephone’s, arching her brow in a challenge.

Bucky seething in pants, whispering ‘knock it off.’ “--- where he use to fuck me.” Persephone snarls, as Bucky shielded her ears by the cups of his palms.

“Watch your tongue!” Bucky roars, nose scrunched up, his face molding into that furious beast, the very terrifying face souls see as they are sent to their final fates.

Shouting, pointing his index right at her, “What we had meant nothing!” balling his hand into a fist, “You were just a tryst!”

A quiet sniffle caught his ears, turning to see his wife nearly at the brink of tears, softening at her, cupping her face into his palm, she leaned into his touch.

Kissing the slope of her button nose, ushering her to not listen to such hate. Her brown eyes were unreadable … glistening with sweetness rimming with tears.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it then, Bucky! I made you cum so hard every-time! What does she have that I don’t?!” Minthe screeches, her throat sore, and raw, banging her open-hands upon the table, demanding an answer.

“Class. Dignity. Kindness.” He spits, his teeth snaring, “Beauty.” A wicked grin, all fangs. A hit close to home, how he said it so cooly yet jarring, aware of Minthe’s fragile vanity.

“Beauty?” Minthe jeers, face twisted and scrunched, “I’m one of the most beautiful naiads you ever saw --- you said so yourself! I can do so much more for you! I love you!” Minthe points at Persephone, but her angry eyes never leave Bucky’s.

“All she can do is change the weather, she’s nothing. A lower god from the rest.” Raving foolishly with jealousy.

“Be careful how you speak to her, Minthe.” Bucky warns, with an unreadable grin, already sensing the seething anger that oozes from his wife.

“Or what?” Minthe hisses, “What can the little spring maiden do? Get pollen in my eyes?” She snickers, staring at Persephone now, “Just because you’re married to him, doesn’t make you queen.”

Persephone clicks her tongue, a sly smirk, chin tucked to chest, “But you will never be.” Minthe recoils back, offended by the mere words, laced in chilling venom, “That’s what you dream about, right? To be rid of me, and lay bare with my husband?”

Wordlessly, Minthe shrugs shamelessly, but her stance is a bit jittery at the feet.

Persephone’s gaze darkens under her arched brow, nostrils flared. “Just a maiden,” She mimics, humorlessly chuckles under her breath, memories jagged, and twisted flash behind her lids, of how her own mother, brothers and sisters diminish her value.

How can a goddess whose sole purpose is to bring life to spring thrive in the land of the dead? What can she do?

Minthe grips her goblet tighter, her fingers loosening a bit lax, Persephone leans forward, as her grip caresses the nape of Bucky’s neck, he purrs, devoted eyes, “I’m so much more than that.” Breathy venom flows from her lips, with such delicacy.

“Minthe, I proposed the idea of inviting your presence in our home to my husband. At first, he was repulsed,” She twirls the goblet between her, mindlessly eyeing the slouch of carmine liquid.

“But, then I told him of how I wish you to hurt you.” She turns her gaze to Bucky, tenderly nuzzling her nose against his, foreheads connect, his eyes placidly close, savoring each other’s essence.

“All the gory details to rip you apart,” her chest began to heave wickedly, “It excited him.” She laughs at the memory of Bucky begging to hear his wife speak such cruel fantasies, as he feasted between her legs in their bed; to hear her tremble over her venomous threats sent such a delightful thrill in him.

Bucky’s smirk stretches, murmuring hoarsely, ‘yeah it did.’

“Small, and insignificant unlike the plant.” Slim burgundy tips flicker with such a grace --- a hot-white pain dwindles as a sting, then it spreads upon Minthe’s breast-bone as wildfire, searing pain deep within her cavity, a scream bubbles from her throat, clutching her chest --- clawing fingernails scratching the skin.

The goblet falls from her grip, clanking against the floor, the wine spilling and seeping through the crevices of marbling.

“What is ever the matter, Minthe?” Bucky mocks, drinks a last sip of wine, entertained by the mere display of pain before him as if a dinner show.

Bones cracking, and snapping within flesh, sews of flesh rips, pieces flies in mid-air, blood-curdling scream fills both Bucky’s and Y/n’s ears as a fantastical symphony.

Her shoulder-blade cracks forth, flailing out of the chair, the wooden feet screeches against the flooring, dead body weight thumps ungraciously. Minthe’s fingers hover over her face, witnessing it cave, and disappear into itself; her arm disintegrating into nothingness.

Minthe shrills once more, trailing into a broken whine that strains in her throat, choppy cries for Bucky to help her, but it falls upon deaf ears.

Snickering as she kicks out her legs, sickening snaps of her toes bend back and break, her foot fractures in two, limps and caves into her flesh just as her hands. Blood splutters, and splashes in droplets, milky skin now shading into a forest green --- limbs now at a rapid-pace, gone into herself.

A wiggling torso, scrambling against the cooling marble, her voice gone into a mute scream.

Her cranium snaps, her eye bulging out of its socket, eyes blood-shot, spine splinters in pieces within her bodice, flesh wilting into she was absolutely … small. Nor longer a body, but a … leaf. A mint leaf.

Persephone stands over the shriveled mint plant, still quivering at the stem, she mockingly smiles at it, all the jests of family dulls and fades into mere whispers in her mind, “Who’s the weak little maiden now?” She sniffles, wet eyes now dilated.

Her legs jerks upward, snarling lip curls, heavily lands her heeled foot upon Minthe. A stomp that reverberates through the manor, a small crunch as she drills the heel with hate, and grit against the flooring --- grinding. Constant stomp after stomp, until the leaf was just wrinkled, and a bit torn.

Just as she can create life, she can easily destroy it.

Hands glide against her belly, soft hands against silk rove sweetly against her skin, Bucky’s warmth radiates against her back, rocking her back and forth against his body.

Her arms encircle his neck, her fingers twirl around his chestnut tresses, scratching his scalp, as he purrs against the slope of her neck.

He murmurs tenderly, “So proud of you.” Wispy kisses, as she nearly sobs of joy, the only person to truly understand her, praises her beyond any living being, sees her more than a mere maiden --- when he first laid eyes on her in the garden, as she gave a crushed rose life once more by loving lips, it was love at first sight.

She never once quivered in fear when he’s in a true form, a looming horrific god, foaming fangs, deadly rage --- she would just hold him, as if he was beautiful in her eyes.

How she can see beyond his darkness, how she lives within it so comfortably, easily became her home --- there’s no one but them, it will always be them against the world.

“Bucky …” She slithers, grinding her ass against his clothed groin, he growls, her hands groping, and cupping her perky breasts, pinching nipples between tips with a delicious twinge of pain.

“Yes … my love, my life.” His tongue licks a flat stripe from the pulse to her ear, suckling, and panting. Canines graze skin, a breathy grunt.

“Let’s head to bed.” A wanton moan, as she continues to dry-hump against her husband.

“Why the bed ---” He twirls her around, it was such a blur, she nearly gets whiplash, lifting her by the thighs, seating her upon the table; leaning over her as he thrashes dishes and candles away hastily, a nice flat surface for her to laid down on. “When I can ravish you right here.”

A hungry beast, eager paws tear at her top, rips the stitching, and bundling at her midriff --- her breasts spill out in a bouncy heave, diving down his mouth, engulfs her tit, sucking and biting. The heat of his mouth jolts her, as his other palm twists, and toys with her nipple.

Slaps it harshly, earning a high-pitched moan, as he devours her breast --- flickering his tongue against the nipple, a string of saliva connects; back to her nipple. Tugging on his hair, leaning upward, kissing his temple, cradling him against her breast-bone, as her other hand claws at his back.

Growling, Bucky suckles more of her tit in his mouth, her breast jiggles from his eager lips. Desperate groans, and moans echo, as he grinds himself down upon her mound, humping upon the creaking table.

“Oh for the love of the Gods --- not here! Go to your room, heathens!”

“Again on the table?! We eat here!”

“Off! Now!”

Shamelessly, Bucky detaches himself from her chest, a wet pop; his mouth slick with saliva, Persephone and himself giggles, not even caring that she’s exposed --- rather she relishes in it.

Stretching her arms above her head, with the most coy and sweetest smile, as her bare chest glistens with sheen by candlelight. Peering over his shoulder, Bucky sees three of his closest companions --- Hekate, Erinyes, and Hermes.

But they go by the mere mortal names of Wanda, Natasha, and Steve.

“Off, I say!” Natalia’s fiery carmine hair wizzes against her cheeks, as she stomps towards the entwined lovers, kind swats of her hands for them to move, as Bucky and her belly laugh at her puffed-up cheeks.

“Look at the good food --- spoiled! Gone to waste, cause you two can’t keep your hands to yourselves.” Steve whines, his blue-greenish hues encased by furrowed brows, he was looking forward to dinner.

Bucky mockingly ‘awhs’ at Steve, “Poor baby.” As he hugs his wife in his arms, pulling her up, covering her chest with his, kissing her hair, “Don’t worry, Stevie, more food can be prepared.” Sticking his tongue out at him teasingly.

The pure-white wings of Steve’s sandals’ soles flutter in defiance, “The table is soiled.” He spoke through gritted teeth, but smirks nonetheless.

Persephone chuckles in Bucky’s neck, kissing his bearded jaw, fiddling with his hair strands.

Royal blue oval nails nip the limp leaf, “Hmm, what do you wish to do with her?” Flopping the leaf jeeringly in her hand, snickering, “Perhaps, I could use her for a hex potion.” Wanda laughs darkly, her chocolate curls bounce a bit at the shoulders.

Aware of this little plan to lure Minthe here, just to die so violently, Wanda once suggested feeding Minthe to her venus fly-trap.

Soft eyes open with once more eerie calmness, leisurely a smile forms, “No, I have a better idea.” Persephone spoke over Bucky’s shoulder, tittering a malicious laugh.

---

The stench of decay, and despair clings to the rotted walls, dreary on the senses --- only darkness, but only casted light seeps through the open door. An eternal damnation of outcasting.

“Are you sure, my love?” Bucky asks for the hundredth time, knocking his knuckles against the cage in disgust, whispering under his breath, ‘this is too good for her.’ She hushes him, cupping his cheeks with her hands, squeezing them --- his lips pucker, with a tiny smile at her gleeful eyes.

Bowing his head down, in search of her lips, relinquishing her hold from his jaw. Encircling his arms around her waist, pulling her to himself by his hold tightly, melting her bodice against his --- skin against hot skin.

Sneaky fingers tread, and glide from the curve of her waist to the ample of her ass. Squeezing her cheeks, earning a muffled squeal.

“Darling …” She playfully scolds, lips just mere hairs away from his. Bucky pouts that her lips are not on his, whining, “Imagine it,” she nips his bottom lip, dragging it by the cages of her teeth.

“Shrouded in eternal darkness, hearing us living our lives, hearing us … make love. Hearing you fuck me with every inch of your cock in my wet cunt.” Bucky nearly wails, debauched, and wanton, his head cocks back, his eyes pinched shut, “Please my heart, let’s do this now.” He whines, she has the nerve to laugh, such a wicked minx.

“Patience, my love.” Quiet hum, a sweet kiss on his dimpled chin, and a nibble. “When I get back to the room, I expect you naked, and ready for me.” Her hand snakes down his chest, grabbing his clothed cock, massaging the weeping tip through his pants.

Sending a whimpering Bucky off with a swat to his ass, something flickers in her hues, something wicked. She gracefully tilts to the side, twirling smoothly on her heels. Slowly treading towards the cage that hung from the ceiling, surrounded by desolate isolation, an airy laugh through the nose, “Pathetic little nymph.”

Knuckles shades from sepia to icy white, gripping the metal cages harshly, the metal creeks and bends under her bruising strength.

“Since you wanted to live with Hades, so be it.” Fingers drum against the golden-gilded cage, tiny pained murmurs float near her ears, only herself able to hear it; it was pitiful.

She snickers once more, musing at the sensation of miniscule rage that radiates from the small plant, relishing in it all. She moans, fingers toying with the keyhole, dragging her nail down against the metal, a shrill of a scratch.

With a flick of her hair, flashing her wedding ring, goading; waltzing away with a gait, lethal and ethereal. The trail of her dress glides smoothly, a haunting laugh that echoes melodically yet chilling.

Gripping the carved knob, gazing back over her shoulder one more time, only her eyes sparkle as uncut gems, her dark silhouette illuminated by the hall’s lit candles --- a dewy vermillion glow surrounds her bodice.

“Sweet dreams, Minthe.”

[awesomerextyphoon]

I love your writing. May I have Loki x Reader? The reader is a sweet, delicate dreamer. Loki has come to conquer the world. He saw her and wants her to become his Queen of Midgard. He kidnapped her. She pleads with him to let her go while she is tied to the bed. He caresses her hair and says she will love him (he doesn't want to use the scepter on her).

***Can I have White Reader x Loki, please? Loki just escaped from the Helicarrier. He saw the reader who is a sweet and innocent creature. Loki doesn't want her dead when he will start battle. Loki kidnaps her and locks her up to keep her safe. When he wins, Loki tells her that she will become his queen.***

Hi! I decided to combine the prompts and make the reader plus-sized. I hope you enjoy! 

His Match

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Plus-Sized Female Reader 

Summary: You’ve tried to live by your grandmother’s rule  of being kind to others, even when the world gives you the middle finger. What if a Norse God decided reward you by becoming his Queen?

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: 18+/Mature

Warning: Kidnapping, Implied Dub/Non-Con, Angst, and some Violence

A/N: Thanks goes to the amazing @angrythingstarlight for beta reading this!

Loki was walking around New York City, scouting Stark Tower making sure the final preparations of his plan was perfect when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

She walked out of what looked like a women’s clothing store with a forlorn smile. She was plumper than the average female Midgardian last time he frequented the realm. His eyes did not miss the enticing curves that lied beneath her clothes despite her efforts to ensconce herself into the background.

She was a vision.

Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments and it felt like time stopped. His heart quickened in his chest and a rush of blood surged to his groin.

He had to follow her. His Elskan.

“Barton, tell the others I’ll be out for a few more hours. Proceed as planned.”

–––––

He found you entering a rather destitute apartment complex. Its lights and foundation were a bit unsound and gave off a seedy ambience.

Loki grimaced at her living conditions. When he ruled Midgard, she would have only the best.

Casting a simple concealment spell, Loki entered her fairly small apartment. She began mixing ingredients together for what looked to be ‘chocolate chip cookies’. He smiled as he inhaled the sweet aroma knowingly; Asgard had only recently started consuming the sweet. She soon laid out a batch of thick, scrumptious cookies with a satisfied expression.

They reminded him of better times when he and Thor would sneak into the kitchens and swipe confections from under the baker’s nose. Loki chuckled at the memory; those were the days.

Not ten minutes after she placed the last cookie onto the cooling rack did her phone ring. It was her mother. Loki felt dread coming off his Elskan in waves.

Loki could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation, if you could call it that. Her mother constantly nagged her about her weight, life choices, and her ‘pathetic’ attempts to get over her ex-boyfriend. His heart broke as he saw tears begin to fall and the croaking of her voice as she bid the odious creature goodnight.

Several minutes after she cried herself to sleep, Loki entered his Elskan’s bedroom. He spied her diary on the nightstand and decided to read a few pages.

He was fuming within two minutes.

How dare that caustic pig sow treat his Elskan, her own daughter, in a such ghastly manner! Her ‘perfect’ sister always slighting and reminding her on how ‘she’ll never be good enough for anything’ and her father’s callous indifference to her cries for help and solace only added to his rage. Combined with the way her ex-boyfriend, the repugnant gnat, treated her (he cheated on her with someone who ‘wasn’t built like a blimp’ and ‘the only thing you thing you had going for you were your tits’) and he wanted to speed up the invasion just to watch the horror become engrained onto their faces.

And yet, she endeavored to treat everyone with kindness harkening back to your grandmother. She strived to be the one light in one’s otherwise miserable existence.

Well, she can be his light as his Elskan and Queen.

Loki took a deep, cleansing breath. He needed to stick to the plan. When he conquers Midgard, she will be their queen. She will grace the undeserving masses with her elegance and beauty and he will worship her every chance he got.

He just had to make her see it that way.

Gently, the light forest green glow of Loki's magic flowed from his hand to the crown of her head like a halo. He leaned in and kissed her cheek with a smile as he left.

He hated to leave her, but he had a realm to conquer. Though he hoped she’d enjoy the introductory gift.

––––––

You were in your grandmother’s living room; spacious yet comfy with all of her quirkiness and splendor included. It was odd since you haven’t been in her house since your parents sold after her death seven years ago. You tearfully smiled remembering all the good times you had with her, the only member of your family you gave you any true warmth or love.

Her piano was in the corner, barely aged a day with all the music sheets, pens, a light scratches you came to know and love. You took your seat and started to play the piano version of one of your favorite movie themes.

You were so engrossed in playing, you failed to notice someone materializing into your dreamscape.

“What a lovely tune! What is it called?” A smooth, honey-tinged voice broke your concentration.

You turned your head and saw what had to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was tall (6’ 10” / 2.08m) easily towering over any man you’ve ever met. He had smooth alabaster skin, light rose undertones with a little blue-red just under his eyes. His cheekbones were immaculate, somehow looked sharp and soft at the same time. He had thin lips with a fair plumpness to the bottom one. His slicked-back, shoulder-length Ponzu/Shadow Purple hair kissed his lean, battle-hardened physique (if the way he’s filling out his outfit was anyway to go by). All of this deliciousness was clothed in a casual Palm Green suit with a Glossy Black tie and shoes.

It took you a full minute to stop ogling him, “Wha-What did you say?”

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady. I asked what you were playing.” His voice had hints of mirth which was odd considering his appearance. Most people in his league would give you a thinly veiled sneer of disgust, but he seemed genuinely interested.

“Um, well, it’s called Merry-Go-Round of Life from the movie Howl’s Moving Castle. It’s a favorite of mine. I used to play it all the time until…” You trailed off, not wanting to revisit how your grandmother died.

“You do not have to tell me if it brings you such displeasure.”

“Thank you, um…”

“Loki. Please, call me Loki.”

“Loki,” he inwardly moaned at the way you said his name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Please, continue playing.”

And you did for what felt like hours, all while your sexy dream companion asked about your hopes, dreams, anything he could think of really. You in turn asked him about his life and interests; you even laughed at a story of his brother having to dress like a bride to get his hammer back.

You soon became enamored with Loki. It was refreshing to be noticed with actual interest, not ridicule or pity. He seemed to taken with you as well, if his gentle caresses and not-so-subtle lustful glances he gave you were any indication.

You were glad this was just a dream. You didn’t want your heart to break like last time.

Loki was about to lean in for a kiss when everything faded to black.

–––––

You jolted up from the mattress and screamed once you realized you weren’t in your room.

No, this room was…spectacular for lack of better word. It had high ceilings, large windows, ornate chandeliers, and magnificent balcony. Luxurious dark greens, gold, and black covered the room in splendor. Extravagant pieces of furniture dripped with precious stones metal worthy of queens or royal mistresses of old.

“What is this place?”

You tried to leave but was forced back onto the bed by a force field. You tried to take calm breaths just like your therapist taught you in order to make an escape plan.

No sooner did you calm down than the door open to reveal-

“Loki!”

Only Loki was wearing radically different clothing; looked like he walked right out of a fantasy epic. And yet, his smile was enchanting.

“What am I doing here? I need to go back home.”

He tutted in response, “That would not be wise, Elskan Mín. This world is mine now and this is safest place to be.” He was right. His brother’s team of desperate souls were no match for his cunning and Chitauri Forces. Midgard’s pathetic leaders gave up in less than an hour once their beloved ‘heroes’ were defeated, broken, and laid bare before them.

“You can’t be serious, Loki. I need to leave.”

“And go where? Like I said, this realm is mine now. That rat poison of a dwelling is no more and I have dealt with your ‘family’ as needed.” Loki smirked at the memories. It gave him extreme joy squeezing the life out of that worthless pig of mother, breaking every bone in your father’s body one by one, and leaving your ‘perfect’ sister alive with partially rotten skin. Not even the scavengers or maggots would find or want the remains of the scurvy insect of an ex-boyfriend, though he was still alive..just barely.

Well, at least until he decided on how to destroy the blight of creature.

Though he did make sure to leave two of your real friend were treated well. You needed to have someone to talk to while he was away.

You gazed into his Spearmint colored eyes in one last attempt, “Please Loki! If you love me, you’ll let me go!”

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw hurt in his eyes and he glided across the room. You back hit the headboard in you sad efforts to get away from him.

“Elskan Mín, I promise to always love, cherish, and worship every part of your glorious body. You will become Midgard’s queen and my goddess. No. One. Will. Ever. Demean. Or. Slight. You. Again.” he punctuated each word of the last sentence with soft, open-mouthed kisses to your face, neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

You tried to fight him, but it felt so good. His touches sent shots of lightning to your core; plus his lips and fingers were cook to the touch provided excellent contrast to the spike in heat.

You started crying realizing how pathetic this was, to have the first person to profess such feelings be a kidnapper. You were actually contemplating whether or not he was telling the truth.

Loki sensed your sorrow and kissed your tears away. “I know this might be ‘difficult’ at first, but you will love me in time.” He hoped he did not have to use the scepter.

You thought about your dream and all of the effort he was putting into this. It was frightening, but it came from a place of love.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay.

–––––––

@lookiamtrying @jtargaryen18 @sapphirescrolls @jobean12-blog @sweeterthanthis @gotnofucks @mcudarklibrary@saiyanprincessswanie @golden-ariess @navegandoaciegas @stargazingfangirl18 @opheliadawnwalker3 @tilltheendwilliwritee  @imanuglywombat @bucky-the-thigh-slayer @navybrat817 @anyatheladyclown @buckysbunny @nacho-bucky @donutloverxo @stephanieromanoff @threeminutesoflife @angrybirdcr​ @angrythingstarlight @chixkencxrry @hurricanerin @marvelfansworld @the-soulofdevil @captain–barnes @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thebanprincess @winteralpine @leslie2898 @buttercandy16 @propertyofpoeandbucky @hevans-angel @thorfanficwriter @afriendlyblackhottie @avintagekiss24 @syntheticavenger @phant0m-queen @tuiccim​ @blueberrythor​ @river-soul @justthehiddleswrites @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

[drosera-nepenthes]

Playing at Tsar

There is one subject upon which writers in all Russian papers agree, from the official Pravda to the anti-Bolshevist Berlin Dni, and even to the monarchist Russkaia Gazeta. It is the manifesto of the Grand Duke Kyrill, who after a few years of 'guardianship of the Russian throne' suddenly styled himself Emperor of All Russia, to the lonely delight of a small group of personal followers. The Monarchist groups of Paris and New York, which include many prominent former statesmen and men of letters like Kuprin and Bunin, were not in the least influenced by the manifesto in their loyalty to the Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich, in whom they recognize a leader, but not a Tsar. Nikolai Nikolaevich seems to possess a good deal more discretion, for he publicly declared that no Tsar should be chosen until this can be done on Russian soil and the chosen one can be Tsar de facto.

Pravda, which usually devotes many efforts to discrediting the anti-Bolshevist Russians abroad, thought the manifesto undeserving of more attention than a ten-line note in which Kyrill was called 'His Sans-Culotte Majesty.' Dni, the anti-Bolshevist organ in Berlin, printed an article entitled 'Violent Dementia,' which sufficiently describes its contents. In Paris Monarchist Russkaia Gazeta, V. Shulgin, the brilliant former Member of the State Duma, paraphrases the name of Kyrill's own newspaper, Faith and Loyalty, into 'Unbelief and Disloyalty.' The latter, he says are the only possible results of Kyrill's action. Neither the actual circumstances nor the personality of the self-styled Emperor are such as would create unanimous support for him. 'Here, abroad, a man with the Tsar's title can only be a source of new pain and new humiliation. We cannot bear to have a Tsar exist in the conditions of our exile. We could not, and ought to, be proud of Peter I, who carefully hid the splendor of his station under a carpenters blouse at Saardam; but it would be too painful to have a Tsar who would be Tsar to us and “His Highness” to every mail-carrier.'

Fianlly the ex-Empress Dowager Maria Feodorovna, who found refuge in her old age with her sister, the Queen Dowager of England, published an open letter to the Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich, in which she disapproves of Kyirll's action because 'no man has yet been able to kill me the last ray of hope' that either Nicholas II or his brother Mikhail are still iving, and also because this is not the time, and Germany not the place, to chose a Russian Tsar. Nikolai Nikolaevich adds a few lines, in the curt, laconic style which once made him so popular in Russia as to excite Nicholas II's jealousy, to the effect he agrees with the august writer of the open letter.

The Living Age, 1924

[josefavomjaaga]

Letters from 1814. Murat and Bentinck

Next to the Austrians, the second power Murat had to deal with when he joined the cause of the Allies was “les Anglais”, who for years had protected the ex-king of Naples Ferdinand on Sicily. And if Austria was annoyed with Joachim Murat for his half-hearted support, Lord William Bentinck’s behaviour seems to have been almost hostile.

All documents again taken from Helfert, “Joachim Murat”.

Lord Bentinck's proclamations to the Italians

Italiani! La Gran Bretagna ha le sue truppe su i Vostri lidi; ella Vi porge la mano per liberarvi dal ferreo giogo di Bonaparte.

Il Portogallo la Spagna la Sicilia l'Olanda attestano i principj liberali e disinteressati che animano queste potenze.

La Spagna per la sua ferma risoluzione, per il suo valore, e per gli sforzi della sua Alleata è riuscita nella più bella impresa. I Francesi sono stati scacciati dal suo territorio, la sua indipendenza è assicurata. La sua civile libertà è stabilita.

La Sicilia protetta da questa potenza istessa riusci di salvarsi dall'universale diluvio per cui nulla ha sofferto; mediante il genio benefico del suo Principe passò dalla schiavitù alla libertà, e si affretta di far risorgere il suo antico splendore frà le Nazioni indipendenti..

L'Olanda vola a conseguire un uguale intento. L'Italia sola resterà dunque sotto il giogo?

I soli Italiani combatteranno contro gl' Italiani a pro di un Tiranno e per la servitù della patria?

Italiani, non più esitate, siete Italiani! E tu specialmente, Armata Italiana, pensa che la gran causa della tua patria è nelle tue mani. Guerrieri d'Italia, non Vi si domanda di venire a noi, ma Vi si domanda che facciate valere i Vostri proprje diritti e che siate liberi.

Chiamateci e noi accorreremo, ed allora i nostri sforzi riuniti faranno che l'Italia divenga ciò che nei suoi migliori tempi l'Italia già fù, e ciò che la Spagna è. .

Livorno 14 Marzo 1814.

William C. Bentinck Commandante in Capo delle truppe brittanniche.

***

Italians! Great Britain has her troops on your shores; she extends her hand to free you from the iron yoke of Bonaparte.

Portugal, Spain, Sicily and Holland bear witness to the liberal and disinterested principles that animate these powers.

Spain, by her firm resolution, her valour and the efforts of her allies, has succeeded in the most magnificent enterprise. The French have been driven from her territory, her independence is assured. Her civil liberties are secured.

Sicily, protected by this same power, succeeded in saving herself from the universal scourge from which she suffered nothing; through the beneficent genius of her Prince she passed from slavery to liberty, and hastens to resurrect her ancient splendour among the independent nations....

Holland is striving to achieve the same.

Will Italy alone remain under the yoke?

Will the Italians alone fight against Italians in favour of a tyrant and for the servitude of the fatherland?

Italians, do not hesitate any longer, you are Italians! And you especially, Italian Army, think that the great cause of your homeland is in your hands. Warriors of Italy, we do not ask you to join us, we ask you to assert your rights and be free.

Call on us and we will come, and then our combined efforts will make Italy what in its best days Italy was and what Spain is.

Livorno 14 March 1814.

William C. Bentinck Commander in Chief of the British troops.

This proclamation, especially the part about the “Italian Army”, seems to be directed more to Eugène’s Italians than to Murat’s, but it’s still interesting to note that Bentinck hints at a common Italian cause (”Don’t fight your Italian brothers!”) which his government will not support.

Austrian envoy Count Mier had followed Murat to Upper Italy and wrote to Metternich about the awkward situation.

Mier to Metternich [postscript]

Reggio 20 March 1814

My Prince!

Lord Bentinck has been here for several days; he refuses to abandon his idea and claim to take possession of the whole of Tuscany. I have done everything possible to arrange this affair, without having been able to succeed so far. The King has offered some modifications to this determination of seizing a country which he has occupied militarily, where he has established a provisional administration, and captured the strongholds by capitulation. He offered to supply whatever the English troops would need for the establishment of their magazines, their depots, their subsistence, their transport, etc. He offered that Lord Bentinck take the military command of the Grand Duchy, and of the Neapolitan troops which are there, to make them march with the English to occupy the country all along the coast up to Genoa, wanting only to keep the civil administration of Tuscany and to draw the revenues which are indispensable to him for the payment of his army, he having refused the subsidies which the Count of Neipperg had promised to obtain for him from England on condition that they would let him have the revenues of the countries occupied by his army. Lord Bentinck rejecting all these modifications, the King finally proposed to him to submit the arrangement of this affair to the arbitration of Lord Castlereagh, who would surely decide it in favour of the English, H.M. wishing by this to save appearances, his dignity and not to appear to yield solely to the will of Lord Bentinck. The latter still refused to do so, saying that the King only wanted to gain time, and declared that, if he was not first put in possession of Tuscany, he would drive out the Neapolitans, revolutionise the country, and embark with his troops to land in the Kingdom of Naples and there proclaim King Ferdinand. These and other similar declarations, made in a harsh manner, which were likely to alarm and excite the King's distrustful and hot-headed character, infuriated him, and he declared in his turn that he would rather lose his crown than disgrace himself in the eyes of his army and the whole world by complying with Lord Bentinck's arbitrary decisions. I employed every possible reasoning with the English general to urge him to desist from these pretensions; I told him that his obstinacy would confuse affairs in Italy; that it would paralyse the means and forces which were to be employed for the liberation; that it was the moment to act, and not to discuss secondary objects; that I was more than sure that his Government had sent him to Italy to fight the common enemy, and not to enter into discussions as to the future partition of that country; that in matters of this nature all personalities must be put aside; that his government and all the world would blame him in this matter, etc. To all these arguments and many others like them he replied that he did not care about any of this, and that he would not yield to Joachim in any way; that his honour and the dignity of his nation were at stake. This is where things stand, and I fear, knowing the character of the individuals, the most unfortunate consequences of this misunderstanding.

The two attached proclamations were distributed on Lord Bentinck's arrival in Livorno. The one addressed to the Sicilian troops is really of a nature to give the King the greatest suspicions on the good faith of the English. The difficulties made by Russia and Prussia in acceding to our treaty of alliance with the King of Naples, the declarations in this regard by England, the reports which the King receives on all sides about the intrigues of Queen Carolina to interest in her favour the Empresses and other influential persons, the pretensions of Lord Bentinck and his conduct in Livorno, all of this is working on the distrustful mind of the King who believes himself already sacrificed, and in this position of things it is difficult to count on an active cooperation. He must be relieved of his fears, which are not without foundation, and then I am sure that he will act frankly and vigorously.

I have the honour etc.

The “Queen Carolina” mentioned in the last paragraph would be “Maria Carolina”, wife of Ferdinand, and the empresses probably Empress Elizabeth of Russia (a former princess of Baden) and Austrian Empress Maria Luisa, a former princess of Modena-Este.

(And am I allowed to note that dear Joachim here has no problem seeing his troops under the command of somebody else, even of “the English”, just as long as this somebody does not happen to be the Beauharnais boy?)

Bentinck himself also summed up the situation, the way he saw it, in a letter to the Neapolitan Minister of Foreign Affairs:

Bentinck to Gallo (copy)

Bologna this 1st April 1814

In case the Neapolitan Government should require some written confirmation of the sentiments which Lord Castlereagh has already verbally enunciated, which confirmation has not been asked for, considering it unnecessary, the Undersigned is authorized to declare officially:

That the English Government fully approves the treaty concluded between the Austrian and Neapolitan Governments, that it consents to the addition of territory specified therein under the same condition made by Austria of the active and immediate co-operation of the Neapolitan army, and that, if the English Government refuses to sign a treaty "in limine", that this is only because of the feelings of delicacy and honour which oppose the sacrifice of the hereditary states of a former ally without an indemnity, and that the undersigned has orders, in consequence of which he must invite the Neapolitan Government to make its utmost efforts for the same object.

Such was the feeling of the British Government.

It would without doubt be opposed to the Undersigned's frankness if he did not express his individual opinion, that the expectations, which the treaty gave rise to, have unfortunately been only too much disappointed.

The principal object for which this alliance and these sacrifices were made, the prompt and active cooperation of the Neapolitan army, has by no means been obtained. The Austrian army is still paralysed on the Adige when, by the march of the Neapolitan army on the upper Po, it could have long since reached the Alps. The most suspicious negotiations take place directly with the enemy, and at the same time the British co-operation, which the Neapolitan Government, if it were genuine, would desire more than any other of the Allies, is rendered impossible by the withholding from it of the necessary means of safety and subsistence.

If such is the military conduct of the Neapolitan Government, its political conduct is no less inexplicable. The Neapolitan government pledges its consent to all the arrangements of the Allies in Italy; it begins by declaring that various states would be immediately ceded to their legitimate Sovereigns, but it officially declares that these states will be kept until peace, and at the same time the administrative organisation of these regions presents itself everywhere with the aspect of a permanent occupation, and everywhere the Neapolitan agents and papers reveal views of ambition and enlargement entirely opposed to the intentions of the Allies, and which might not be without objection, if even such an addition of power were to assume a proper direction, but which are certainly very dangerous when it is not yet decided on which side this power will be placed.

The undersigned is far from presenting these remarks in a hostile and reproachful sense; they are dictated by a friendly spirit and a desire to see the intentions of the Allies realised. The war is still going on, and there is still time to remove any doubts and dissatisfaction that may exist.

Thus the undersigned seriously recommends to the Neapolitan government

to effect its prompt and cordial co-operation with the Austrian army, to allow by the sacrifice of a part of Tuscany to the British expedition the means which are indispensable to it for co-operation, and which are due to the dignity of the British Government; if the cession of a territory belonging to somebody else can be called a sacrifice, it will be highly compensated by mutual assistance and trust -

to renounce all tendency to an isolated and separate policy -

and above all to restore the Sovereign Pontiff to his seat without delay. The cruel treatment suffered by this venerable personage, which has been highlighted by his inspiring virtues and extraordinary firmness, has aroused, as we have just seen, the greatest of passions.

If the conduct of the man who now governs France, in this respect, has attracted to him, more than any other act in his life, the hatred of the whole world, it would undoubtedly be a very bad policy to refuse a measure recognised as being of the utmost necessity by all those who would like to see the great foundations of the social order, religion and morality, restored.

The undersigned has the honour to express again the sentiments of his highest consideration.

L. Wm Bentinck.

To H. E. Mr. Duke of Gallo, Minister of Foreign Affairs.

Always cute to see the Brits protect the Pope. But all this in-fighting at least explains how the demoralized, war-weary Italo-French troops of the Kingdom of Italy (I understand ~40.000 men, at least on paper) still managed to hold out until after Napoleon’s abdication.

[adalheidismimisbrunnr]

A Guide to Norse Gods and Goddesses

Aesir

The collective name for the principal race of Norse gods; they who lived in Asgard, and with the All-Father Odin, ruled the lives of mortal men, the other was the Vanir.

The Aesir gods under the leadership of Odin, included:

Balder (god of beauty)

Bragi (god of eloquence)

Forseti (god of mediation)

Freyr (god of fertility, who originally was from the Vanir)

Heimdall (guardian of the bridge)

Hod (the blind god)

Loki (the trickster of the gods)

Njord (the sea god, and another ex-Vanir)

Thor (god of thunder)

Tyr (god of war)

Vili (brother to Odin)

Ve (brother to Odin)

Vidar (Odin’s son)

The goddesses included:

Freya (the fertility goddess)

Frigga (Odin’s wife)

Sif (Thor’s wife)

Idun (keeper of the apples of youth)

Vanir

In Norse mythology, the Vanir are originally a group of wild nature and fertility gods and goddesses, the sworn enemies of the warrior gods of the Aesir. They were the bringers of health, youth, fertility, luck and wealth, and masters of magic. The Vanir live in Vanaheim. The Aesir and the Vanir had been at war for a long time when they decided to make peace. To ensure this peace they traded hostages: the Vanir sent their most renowned gods, the wealthy Njord and his children Freya and Freyr. In exchange the Aesir sent Honir, a big, handsome man who they claimed was suited to rule. He was accompanied by Mimir, the wisest man of the Aesir and in return the Vanir sent their wisest man Kvasir. Honir however, was not as smart as the Aesir claimed he was and it Mimir who gave him advice. The Vanir grew suspicious of the answers Honir gave when Mimir was not around. Eventually they figured out that they had been cheated and they cut Mimir’s head off and sent it back to the Aesir. Fortunately, this betrayal did not lead to another war and all the gods of the Vanir were subsequently integrated with the Aesir. There is not much known about the Vanir of the time before the assimilation.

Valkyries

Valkyries, in Scandinavian mythology, are the warrior maidens who attended Odin, ruler of the gods. The Valkyries rode through the air in brilliant armor, directed battles, distributed death lots among the warriors, and conducted the souls of slain heroes to Valhalla, the great hall of Odin. Their leader was Brunhilde.

Brunhilde

Brunhilde (Brynhildr, Brunhilda, Brunhilde, Brünhild) was a female warrior, one of the Valkyries, and in some versions the daughter of the principal god Odin. She defies Odin and is punished by imprisonment within a ring of fire until a brave hero falls in love and rescues her. Siegfied (Sigurðr, Sigurd) breaks the spell, falls in love with her and gives her the ring, Andvarinaut. Siegfied is tricked and accused of infidelity. Eventually Brunhilde kills herself when she learns that Sigurd had betrayed her with another woman (Gudrun), not knowing he had been bewitched into doing so by Grimhild.

 Gullveig

Gullveig (“gold branch”) is the sorceress and seer who had a great love and lust for gold. She talked of nothing else when she visited the Aesir. They listened with loathing and eventually thought the world would be better off without her so they hurled her into the fire. She was burned to death but stepped from the flames unscathed. Three times she was burned, and three times she was reborn. When the Vanir learned about how the Aesir had treated Gullveig they became incensed with anger. They swore vengeance and began to prepare for war. The Aesir heard about this and moved against the Vanir. This was the first war in the world. For a long time, the battle raged to and fro, with neither side gaining much ground. Eventually the gods became weary of war and began to talk of peace. Both sides swore to live side by side in peace. Gullveig is also known under the name of Heid (“gleaming one”). She is probably the goddess Freya, who also has a great love of gold in the various myths.

The Norse Gods & Goddesses

Aegir

Aegir is the god of the sea in Norse mythology. He was both worshipped and feared by sailors, for they believed that Aegir would occasionally appear on the surface to take ships, men and cargo alike, with him to his hall at the bottom of the ocean. Sacrifices were made to appease him, particularly prisoners before setting sail. His wife is the sea goddess Ran with whom he has nine daughters (the billow maidens), who wore white robes and veils. His two faithful servants are Eldir and Fimafeng. The latter was killed by the treacherous god Loki during a banquet the gods held at Aegir’s undersea hall near the island of Hler (or Hlesey). Aegir was known for the lavish entertainment he gave to the other gods.

Baldr

Balder, son of Odin and Frigga, the god of Love and Light, is sacrificed at Midsummer by the dart of the mistletoe and is reborn at Jul (Yule). Supposedly his return will not occur until after the onslaught of the Ragnarok, which I see as a cleansing and enlightenment more than wanton, purposeless destruction. Balder’s blind brother Hodur was his slayer, whose hand was guided by the crafty Loki. He is married to the goddess of Joy, Nanna. Balder’s dreams are the beginning of the end. He dreams of his own death and shows Loki the truly evil god that he is which shows the ultimate limitations and mortality of the gods. The gods capture and punish Loki, but they cannot rescue Balder from Hel and the beautiful, passive god who embodies the qualities of mercy and love is lost to them. This is the beginning of the end, the first step towards Ragnarok begins.

There is nothing but good to be told of him. He is the best of them, and everyone sings his praises. He is so fair of face and bright that a splendor radiates from him, and there is a flower so white that it is likened to Balder’s brow; it is the whitest of all flowers. From that you can tell how beautiful his body is, and how bright his hair. He is the wisest of gods, and the sweetest-spoken, and the most merciful, but it is a characteristic of his that once he has pronounced a judgement it can never be altered. – Snorri Sturluson

Bragi

The god of eloquence and poetry, and the patron of skalds (poets) in Norse mythology. He is regarded as a son of Odin and Frigga. Runes were carved on his tongue and he inspired poetry in humans by letting them drink from the mead of poetry. Bragi is married to Idun, the goddess of eternal youth. Oaths were sworn over the Bragarfull (“Cup of Bragi”), and drinks were taken from it in honor of a dead king. Before a king ascended the throne, he drank from such a cup.

Note: Originally, Bragi did not belong the pantheon of gods. He was a poet from the 9th century, Bragi Boddason. Poets from later centuries made him a god.

Forseti

Forseti in Norse mythology, Forseti is the god of justice. He is the son of the god Balder and his mother is Nanna. He rules in the beautiful palace Glitnir with its pillars of red gold and its roof with inlaid silver, which serves as a court of justice and where all legal disputes are settled. See Myth 12 The Lay of Grimnir. Although Forseti is one of the twelve leading gods, he is not featured significantly in any of the surviving myths. He can be compared with the Teutonic god Forseti, who was worshipped on Helgoland a small Island in the North Sea.

Freya

Freya was one of the most sensual and passionate goddesses in Norse mythology. She was associated with much of the same qualities as Frigg: love, fertility and beauty. She was the sister of Freyr. Freyja (modern forms of the name include Freya, Freja, Freyia, Frøya, and Freia) is the goddess of Love and Beauty but is also a warrior goddess and one of great wisdom and magick. She and her twin brother Freyr are of a different “race” of gods known as the Vanir. Many of the tribes venerated her higher than the Aesir, calling her “the Frowe” or “The Lady.” She is known as Queen of the Valkyries, choosers of those slain in battle to bear them to Valhalla (the Norse heaven). She, therefore, is a psychopomp like Odhinn and it is said that she gets the “first pick” of the battle slain. She wears the sacred necklace Brisingamen, which she paid for by spending the night with the dwarves who wrought it from the bowels of the earth. The cat is her sacred symbol. There seems to be some confusion between herself and Frigga, Odin’s wife, as they share similar functions; but Frigga seems to be strictly of the Aesir, while Freyja is of the Vanir race. The day Friday (Frejyasdaeg) was named for her (some claim it was for Frigga).

Freyr

Freyr was the god of fertility and one of the most respected gods for the Vanir clan. Freyr was a symbol of prosperity and pleasant weather conditions. He was frequently portrayed with a large phallus. Freyr is Freyja’s twin brother. He is the horned God of fertility and has some similarities to the Celtic Cernunnos or Herne, although he is NOT the same being. He is known as King of the Alfs (elves). Both the Swedish and the English are said to be descendants of his. The Boar is his sacred symbol, which is both associated with war and with fertility. His golden boar, “Gullenbursti”, is supposed to represent the daybreak. He is also considered to be the God of Success, and is wedded to Gerda, the Jotun, for whom he had to yield up his mighty sword. At Ragnarok, he is said to fight with the horn of an elk (much more suited to his nature rather than a sword.)

Frigg

Odin’s wife, Frigg, was a paragon of beauty, love, fertility and fate. She was the mighty queen of Asgard, a venerable Norse goddess, who was gifted with the power of divination, and yet, was surrounded by an air of secrecy. She was the only goddess allowed to sit next to her husband. Frigg was a very protective mother, so she took an oath from the elements, beasts, weapons and poisons, that they would not injure her brilliant and loving son, Baldr. Her trust was betrayed by Loki, a most deceitful god. She spins the sacred Distaff of life, and is said to know the future, although she will not speak of it. Some believe that Friday was named for her instead of Freya, and there is considerable confusion as to “who does what” among the two. The Norns (Urd, Verdande, and Skuld), are the Norse equivalent of the Greek Fates. It is they who determine the oorlogs (destinies) of the Gods and of Man, and who maintain the World Tree, Yggdrasil.

 Gefion

Gefion (“giver”) is an old-Scandinavian vegetation and fertility goddess, especially connected with the plough. She was considered the patron of virgins and the bringer of good luck and prosperity. Every girl who dies a virgin will become Her servant. She is married to King Skjold or Scyld a son of Odin, and lived in Leire, Denmark, where she had a sanctuary. The Swedish kings are supposed to be her descendants. It is traditionally claimed that Gefion created the island of Zealand (“Sjaelland” in Danish) by ploughing the soil out of the central Swedish region with the help of her sons (four Swedish oxen), creating the great Swedish lakes in the process. In Copenhagen, Denmark, there is a large fountain showing Her in the process of ploughing. Gefion could be another form of Frigga who is also known under that name.

Heimdall

Heimdall, known as the ‘shiniest’ of all gods due to him having the ‘whitest skin’, was a son of Odin who sat atop the Bifrost (the rainbow bridge that connects Asgard, the world of the Æsir tribe of gods, with Midgard, the world of humanity) and remained forever on alert; guarding Asgard against attack.

In the Lay of Thrym, it is Heimdall’s idea to Dress up Thor as a woman, in order to trick Thrym, the king of the frost giants, into thinking it was Freyja. The ploy works and Thor recovers his stolen hammer Mjollnir. Heimdall was associated with the sea and was the son of nine maidens (9 waves??). In Myth 5 – The Song of Rig he calls himself Rig and travels across the land visiting several households, speaking honeyed words, winning over the woman of the household and creating the three races of men. His acute senses make him an ideal watchman for the gods. His hall is Himinbjorg (Cliffs of Heaven) which stands near the rainbow Bifrost. He owns the horn Gjall which can be heard throughout the nine worlds.

He needs less sleep than a bird and can see a hundred leagues in front of him as well by night as by day. He can hear the grass growing on the earth and the wool on sheep, and everything that makes more noise – Snorri Sturluson

Hel

Hel was the goddess of the dead and the afterlife was Hel (Holle, Hulda), and was portrayed by the Vikings as being half-dead, half alive herself. The Vikings viewed her with considerable trepidation. The Dutch, Gallic, and German barbarians viewed her with some beneficence, more of a gentler form of death and transformation. She is seen by them as Mother Holle; a being of pure Nature, being helpful in times of need, but vengeful upon those who cross her or transgress natural law.

Höðr

(Old Norse: Hǫðr [ˈhɔðr] (listen); often anglicized as Hod, Hoder, or Hodur) is a blind god and a son of Odin and Frigg in Norse mythology. Tricked and guided by Loki, he shot the mistletoe arrow which was to slay the otherwise invulnerable Baldr.

Idun

Idun ("She Who Renews") is the Norse Goddess of youth Who grows the magic apples of immortality that keep the Gods young. Her husband Bragi is God of poetry. Loki, the God of mischief and fire, was once responsible for arranging Her abduction by the giant Thajazi. Without Her apples, the Gods soon began to age, and threatened Loki until He agreed to rescue Her, which He accomplished by borrowing Frejya's falcon robe and fleeing with Idun who He had changed to a nut. Alternate spellings: Idunn, Iduna, Idhunna

Kvasir

Kvasir is referred to as the “wisest of the gods” in The Binding of Loki. It is he who comes up with the plan to fish Loki out of the water using the net he fashioned from Loki’s own design. It is not entirely clear whether Kvasir is a god. In the Mead of Poetry, he is “created” from the spittle of the gods.

Loki

Loki was a mischievous god who could shape-shift and can take up animalistic forms. He conceived a scheme to cause the death of Baldr. Upon learning that mistletoe was the only thing that could hurt Baldr, he placed a branch into the hands of the blind god, Hodr, and tricked him into throwing it at Baldr, killing him. Loki, the Trickster, challenges the structure and order of the Gods which is necessary in bringing about needed change. In the Prose Edda Snorri Sturluson writes that Loki: is handsome and fair of face but has an evil disposition and is very changeable of mood. He excelled all men in the art of cunning, and he always cheats. He was continually involving the Aesir in great difficulties and he often helped them out again by guile. Neither an Aesir or a Vanir, he is the son of two giants and yet the foster-brother of Odin. Loki embodies the ambiguous and darkening relationship between the gods and the giants. He is dynamic and unpredictable and because of that he is both the catalyst in many of the myths and the most fascinating character in the entire mythology. Without the exciting, unstable, flawed figure Loki, there would be no change in the fixed order of things, no quickening pulse, and no Ragnarok. He is responsible for a wager with a giant which puts Freyja into peril (Myth 3) but by changing both shape and sex (characteristics he has in common with Odin) he bails her out. In Myth 10 he shears Sif’s hair which is more mischievous than evil, but he makes amends in the end. In Myth 8 his deceit leads to the loss of the golden apples of youth… but he retrieves them again. He helps the Gods and gets them out of predicaments, but spawns the worst monsters ever seen on the face of the Earth: Fenrir, Jormungand, the Midgard Wyrm. His other children include the goddess Hel (Hella, Holle), and Sleipnir, Odin’s 8-legged horse. It is now generally accepted that he is not a late invention of the Norse poets, but an ancient figure descended from a common Indo-European prototype and as such, Loki’s origins are particularly complex. He has been compared to several European and other mythological figures, most notably the Trickster of Native American mythology. As the myths play out, the playful Loki gives way to a cruel predator, hostile to the gods. He not only guides the mistletoe dart that kills Balder but stands in his way on his return from Hel (the citadel of Niflheim). His accusations against the gods at Aegir’s feast (Myth 30) are vicious. He is an agent of destruction causing earthquakes. And when he breaks loose at Ragnarok, Loki reveals his true colors; he is no less evil than his three appalling children, the serpent Jormungand, the wolf Fenrir and the half-dead, half-alive Hel (Myth 7), and he leads the giants and monsters into battle against the gods and heroes.

Mani

Máni (Old Norse "moon"[1]) is the personification of the moon in Norse mythology. Máni, personified, is attested in the Poetic Edda, compiled in the 13th century from earlier traditional sources, and the Prose Edda, written in the 13th century by Snorri Sturluson. Both sources state that he is the brother of the personified sun, Sól, and the son of Mundilfari, while the Prose Edda adds that he is followed by the children Hjúki and Bil through the heavens. As a proper noun, Máni appears throughout Old Norse literature. Scholars have proposed theories about Máni's potential connection to the Northern European notion of the Man in the Moon, and a potentially otherwise unattested story regarding Máni through skaldic kennings.

Njord

Njord is the God of the wind and fertility as well as the sea and merchants at sea and therefore was invoked before setting out to sea on hunting and fishing expeditions. He is also known to have the ability to calm the waters as well as fire. Njord, one of the Vanir gods, was first married to his sister Nerthus and had two children with her, Frey and Freyja. His second wife was Skadi (Skade), a Giantess. When Skadi’s father was killed by the Aesir she was granted three “acts” of reparation one of which was to let her choose a husband from among the gods. She could pick her new husband, but the choice had to be made by looking only at the feet. She picked Njord by mistake, assuming his feet belonged to Balder. Njord and Skadi could not agree on where to live. She didn’t like his home Noatun at the Sea, and he didn’t like hers Trymheim, in the mountain with large woods and wolves, so they lived the first half of the year in Noatun and the other half in Trymheim. Njord is said to be a future survivor of Ragnarök in stanza 39 of the poetic Edda:

“In Vanaheim the wise Powers made him and gave him as hostage to the gods; at the doom of men he will come back home among the wise Vanir.”

Odin

The supreme deity of Norse mythology and the greatest among the Norse gods was Odin, the Allfather of the Æsir. He was the awe-inspiring ruler of Asgard, and most revered immortal, who was on an unrelenting quest for knowledge with his two ravens, two wolves and the Valkyries. He is the god of war and, being delightfully paradoxical, the god of poetry and magic. He is famous for sacrificing one of his eyes in order to be able to see the cosmos more clearly and his thirst for wisdom saw him hang from the World Tree, Yggdrasil, for nine days and nine nights until he was blessed with the knowledge of the runic alphabet. His unyielding nature granted him the opportunity to unlock numerous mysteries of the universe. Odin or, depending upon the dialect Woden or Wotan, was the Father of all the Gods and men. Odin is pictured either wearing a winged helm or a floppy hat, and a blue-grey cloak. He can travel to any realm within the 9 Nordic worlds. His two ravens, Huginn and Munin (Thought and Memory) fly over the world daily and return to tell him everything that has happened in Midgard. He is a God of magick, wisdom, wit, and learning. In later times, he was associated with war and bloodshed from the Viking perspective, although in earlier times, no such association was present. If anything, the wars fought by Odin exist strictly upon the Mental plane of awareness; appropriate for that of such a mentally polarized God. He is both the shaper of Wyrd and the bender of Oorlog; again, a task only possible through the power of Mental thought and impress. It is he who sacrifices an eye at the well of Mimir to gain inner wisdom, and later hangs himself upon the World Tree Yggdrasil to gain the knowledge and power of the Runes. All his actions are related to knowledge, wisdom, and the dissemination of ideas and concepts to help Mankind. Odin can make the dead speak in order to question the wisest amongst them. His hall in Asgard is Valaskjalf (“shelf of the slain”) where his throne Hlidskjalf is located. From this throne he observes all that happens in the nine worlds. He also resides in Valhalla, where the slain warriors are taken. Odin’s attributes are the spear Gungnir, which never misses its target, the ring Draupnir, from which every ninth night eight new rings appear, and his eight-footed steed Sleipnir. He is accompanied by the wolves Freki and Geri, to whom he gives his food for he himself consumes nothing but wine. Odin has only one eye, which blazes like the sun. His other eye he traded for a drink from the Well of Wisdom and gained immense knowledge. On the day of the final battle, Odin will be killed by the wolf Fenrir. Just as a point of curiosity: in no other pantheon is the head Deity also the God of Thought and Logic.  It’s interesting to note that the Norse people set such a great importance upon logic. The day Wednesday (Wodensdaeg) is named for him.

Sif

Sif is the Norse Goddess of the grain Who is a prophetess, and the beautiful golden-haired wife of Thor. Thor is the thunder God and frequent companion of Loki, as He makes the perfect patsy, being not too bright. Sif is of the elder race of Gods or Aesir. She is a swan-maiden, like the Valkyries, and can take that form. By Her first marriage to the Giant Orvandil, Sif had a son named Ullr ("the Magnificent"), Who is a God of winter and skiing. By Her second husband Thor, She had a daughter, Thrudr ("Might"), a Goddess of storm and clouds and one of the Valkyries, and two sons, Magni ("Might") and Modi ("Anger" or "The Brave"), who are destined to survive Ragnarok and inherit Mjollnir from Thor (though some say the Giantess Jarnsaxa "Iron Sword" is their mother). Sif is famous for Her very long, very golden hair. One night, Loki, who just couldn't resist a little chaos and mischief, snuck into Her chamber and chopped it all off. A sobbing and horrified Sif went straight to Her husband, Who in His rage started breaking Loki's bones, one by one, until finally He swore to make the situation right. So, Loki went to the dwarves and persuaded them to make not only a new head of magic hair for Sif from pure gold, but also a magical ship and a spear. But Loki could not resist pushing His luck, and made a wager with two other dwarves, Brokk and Sindi, daring them to make better treasures. Loki was so sure of the outcome that He had let His own head be the prize. Underestimating the dwarves' skills (or the depth of their hatred for Him), He suddenly realized with a shock that Brokk and Sindi were winning! In desperation He changed Himself into a horsefly, biting and pestering the dwarves while they worked. Despite this they managed to produce several treasures, the most famous of which was Mjollnir, Thor's Hammer. The Gods were then called to arbitrate and declared Brokk and Sindi the winners. Loki promptly disappeared. When He was tracked down, He was again given to the dwarf brothers, but this time Loki agreed, yes, they had a right to His head, but the wager had said nothing about His neck. Frustrated with this "logic," the dwarves had to content themselves with sewing His lips shut. The new head of golden hair was given to Sif, where it magically grew from Her head just as if it were natural. Her golden hair is said to represent the wheat of summer that is shorn at harvest-time.

Skadi

Skadi is the Goddess of Winter and of the Hunt. She is married to Njord, the gloomy Sea God, noted for his beautiful bare feet (which is how Skadi came to choose him for her mate.) Supposedly the bare foot is an ancient Norse symbol of fertility. The marriage wasn’t too happy, though, because she really wanted Balder for her husband. She is the goddess of Justice, Vengeance, and Righteous Anger, and is the deity who delivers the sentence upon Loki to be bound underground with a serpent dripping poison upon his face in payment for his crimes. Skadi’s character is represented in two of Hans Christian Anderson’s tales: “The Snow Queen” and “The Ice Princess.”

Sol/ Sunna

Sól is the Norse Goddess of the Sun, also known as Sunna, though some hold that Sól is the mother and Sunna Her daughter. In Norse mythology, the Sun is female while the Moon is male. When the world was created from the body of the dead giant Ymir by the triad of Odin, Vili, and Ve, the Sun, Moon and Stars were made from the gathered sparks that shot forth from Muspellsheim, the Land of Fire. Sol ("Mistress Sun"), drives the chariot of the Sun across the sky every day. Pulled by the horses Allsvinn ("Very Fast") and Arvak ("Early Rising"), the Sun-chariot is pursued by the wolf Skoll. It is said that sometimes he comes so close that he can take a bite out of the Sun, causing an eclipse. Sol's father is Mundilfari, and She is the sister of Måni, the Moon-god, and the wife of Glaur or Glen ("Shine"). As Sunna, she is a healer. At Ragnarok, the foretold "Twilight of the Gods" or end of the world, it is believed the Sun will finally be swallowed by Skoll. When the world is destroyed, a new world shall be born, a world of peace and love, and the Sun's bright daughter shall outshine Her mother.

Thor

Thor was Odin’s most widely known son. He was the protector of humanity and the powerful god of thunder who wielded a hammer named Mjöllnir. Among the Norse gods, he was known for his bravery, strength, healing powers and righteousness. Tyr is the ancient god of War and the Lawgiver of the gods. The bravest of the gods, it is Tyr who makes the binding of Fenrir possible by sacrificing his right hand. Thor, also known as the Thunderer, was a son of Fjorgyn (Jord) and Odin by some, but among many tribes Thor supplanted Odin as the favorite god. He is the protector of all Midgard, and he wields the mighty hammer Mjollnir. Thor is strength personified. His battle chariot is drawn by two goats, and his hammer Mjollnir causes the lightning that flashes across the sky. Of all the deities, Thor is the most “barbarian” of the lot; rugged, powerful, and lives by his own rules, although he is faithful to the rest of the Aesir. The day Thursday (Thorsdaeg) is sacred to him.

Tyr

Tyr also seems to be a god of justice. His name is derived from Tiw or Tiwaz an Tacticus and other Roman writers have equated this character to Mars, the receiver of human sacrifice. His day is Tuesday. Tyr was the son of Odin though he is made out to be the son of the giant Ymir. Like Odin, he has many characteristics of the earlier Germanic gods of battle. Parallels in other mythologies along with archaeological discoveries relating to a one-handed god, suggest that this character is very old and was known in Northern Europe somewhere between one and two thousand years before Snorri Sturluson included it in his Prose Edda. Similarities can be found in the one-handed Naudu in Irish mythology and in Mitra, just god of the day, of Indian mythology.

Ve

Ve is one of ancient Scandinavian gods and, together with Odin and Vili, the son of the primordial pair of giants Bor and Bestla. The three brothers created heaven and earth from the slain body of the primeval being Ymir and built the twelve realms. They also created Ask and Embla, the first pair of humans.

Vili

In Scandinavian myth, one of the primordial gods, brother of Odin and Ve. The three of them were responsible for the creation of the cosmos, as well as the first humans.

Vidar

Vidar was another son of the supreme god and Grid (a giantess), and his powers were matched only by that of Thor.

Vali

He was born a fully-grown man. Little is known about Vali, except that he is a son of Odin and his giant mistress Rind. When Balder was killed unintentionally by his twin brother Hod, Vali was born to avenge his death.

“In the west Rind will give birth to Vali. Merely one night old he will avenge the son of Odin.

He will not wash his hands, nor will he comb his hair until Balder’s murderer burns at the stake.”

[skippyv20]

MM Anon.

MM ANON… light EX-ercise will Bowl her Jack. … A cameo, appointment in La La. … net-flick to the next page.… I get whatever I WANT!!! …A big birthday NY or LA, who will pay??… BACKROOM negotiations for a COLOURFUL rainbow. Crisis!what crisis? 🎼 “love is a many blended thing”🎼

In bowls, a small white ball (the Jack) is thrown, then the aim of the game is to get your bowl as close as possible to the Jack. 1 point is scored for each ball closer to the jack than an opponents ball. Sorry, I can’t work this one out!

A cameo, appointment in La La. … Reported to have a speaking role in final suits. on the telephone. “ goodbye, I love you”

net-flick to the next page.… Moving on swiftly

I get whatever I WANT!!! No change there then.

A big birthday NY or LA, who will pay?? Missing Balmoral? I thought the Queen was making her a cake? As long as UK tax payers aren’t footing the bill, let her go forever. Don’t come back.

BACKROOM negotiations for a COLOURFUL rainbow Like Angelina and Brad, a rainbow family? I doubt it somehow.

Crisis!what crisis? Still got her head in the sand. Oblivious to the anger she’s causing.

🎼 “love is a many blended thing”🎼 The song is “love is a many splendored thing”. It does refer to the golden crown that makes a man a King. But perhaps this refers again to the rainbow family, Harry and herself, all colours blended. 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

Thank you!  Looks great!😁❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[banshee-y-etc]

The cavalcade of Deceased (RotBTD AU)

You want to hear a legend? How about the Parade of the Dead? You've never heard of it? Then sit down and listen.

In a particular forest in Scotland there is a circle of gigantic stones, where magic still survives. 

Every year, in that place, when it is the longest day and the shortest night you could if you go there you will be able to see this macabre retinue, where the spirits parade being guided by their Queen.

The Queen? Of course they have a queen, they received her a long time ago. It is an interesting but sad story, however. 

It is said that she was a Celtic girl, a princess, who would soon be the leader of her kingdom, but for the greatest love ended up being the Queen.

You see, her home was prosperous but, as often happens, peace is not eternal and war broke out against people coming from the sea.  They were fierce and strong, so powerful that the then princess feared for her family and her people. This is how she ventured into the forest in search of help, of beings who otherwise would not dare to bother.

He called the spirits that inhabit the forest, the dead who are still anchored in the earth and who know the fate of living men, offering them a deal. They would stop the war, and she would give them whatever they wanted. They explained the price to her, she accepted.

The agreement was made and in the middle of the battle both sides were horrified to see how the princess appeared with an army of ghosts on her back, rushing into battle and succeeding in expelling the invaders.

After that, the princess walked into the forest without stopping when her father, mother or siblings called and claimed her. There they found her in the center of the circle of stones, her lifeless body lying on the ground, next to that of her horse. The price paid, fair or not.

It is said that there was a funeral worthy of who should have been, and that after being buried was observed as the ghosts in their smallest form made circles and spirals around their resting place and at night what looked like a huge bonfire, able to erase in that light of the moon.

Her people, who were still in mourning, were frightened by such a sinister vision and the fear became astonishment as the spirit of the one who was her horse emerged from the woods and as it approached the unnatural pyre, it took shape the moment it grabbed its bridles.

In all its splendor it was shown, the new Queen and around her and behind her the dead were marching this time not in war but in peace. Dancing, laughing and singing they followed the ex-princess, who, after an assent to her family, did not seem to notice again the living. Following the parade, entering the battlefield where new ghosts joined and after them marched to the lake to reach the stone circle where they vanished towards what we, the living, assumed was the other side.

So be careful, if you observe in those woods some blue flames accompanying another orange-red one, it is nothing more than the parade of the dead who are going to their rest. Come if you want, they will not hurt you, they will share their joys with you but do not enter the circle of stones with them, you will not return and your body will be laid like the Queen's.

[sagebaileyspeaks]

Boy this is gonna be a long one...

American Royals was a book I received through an ARC giveaway with Penguin Random House and I have some thoughts about it. 

The premise of the book is interesting but the execution leaves a lot to be desired and let's start with the biggest elephant in the room: it's about the Washington family reigning in a monarchy over the United States. This novel is almost painfully white and off the bat presents the unsettling question of, "So...the enslaved...where are they?" 

We can't deny the fact that George Washington owned people of African descent. Even in an alternative future, if there was a Revolutionary War, there were enslaved people but this is never mentioned - not even in passing - in the novel. It's as though Ms.McGee didn't think that people would notice. Now there are two characters who could be people of color, Nina Gonzalez (a main character) and Himari (a side character) but there's no confirmation of either. And there's really only two ways to look at it: a) the author was trying to be "colorblind" or b) the novel is implying a white supremacist country. 

And I'm more inclined to believe that it's B because the antagonist is a woman with white skin, green eyes and holds herself up as "the most beautiful" and "the most suited to be a princess" and actually calls Nina Gonzalez, one of two possible women of color, "trash." 

This text is a lot more racist than the author likely intended. 

That aside I have very complicated feelings about this book. The narrative moves through the perspective of four characters: Nina, Sam's best friend and Jeff's love interest; Sam, youngest royal daughter and twin to Jeff; Beatrice, first Queen of America and older sister to Jeff and Sam and Daphne, Jeff's ex-girlfriend. 

Daphne and Nina are interesting. Sam and Beatrice are not. 

Beatrice isn't interesting because she's a one-dimensional character. She's the young princess being forced to marry who has to one day be queen but oh no! She's in love with a commoner, will she choose love or duty? She chooses duty - and I'll come back to that. But Beatrice literally does not do anything the entire novel except internally complain about how hard it is to have to be perfect. Sure she lusts after her guard Connor, but at no point does she actually assert any agency - given that she's about to be QUEEN and is the most passive character I've read in recent fiction. 

You know who was a better-written character in an almost identical situation? Princess Jasmine. She had personality. She had goals. She had agency. Beatrice has none. 

Now Sam, on the other hand, is one-dimensional in a different way. She's the younger sister, she has no responsibility, no one pays attention so she acts out! Is she going to straighten up or continue her partying ways? It's neither. You know who was a better-written character in a slightly different situation? Cindy from Seeds of Yesterday (the movie, not the book.) 

The two of them are so flat but Sam's chapters were much easier to read than Beatrice's. Nina's interesting because she's innocent. She's a character that has been sucked into the world of the elite but not in any way influenced by it. She remains humble and plain in the wake of all the royal family's splendor and it's because of her humanity and realness that you want the character to succeed. And let's face it, Daphne is just flat out evil which makes her interesting. She's like an old Disney villain who just revels in being evil for the sake of it and I loved it....until the ending. 

Now here's the thing about this book: despite the cheesy prologue and somewhat racist implications of the world as established - I could not put this book down. Of course, I was certain of how it was going to end. Sam with Teddy. Beatrice with Connor. Nina with Jeff that's what the novel was working towards: the ability to choose and go against tradition. Except at the very last second, it does a complete 180 and turns into a different novel that seems to be telling you that "this is just how royalty works." 

And here's where the turn begins: out of nowhere the dad gets cancer. Why was this necessary? What did it add except an arbitrary deadline for the novel to be finished? So the King gets cancer tells Beatrice she can't marry Connor because it's not right for "America," Daphne straight up THREATENS Nina and instead of fighting for the relationship, Jeff accepts the breakup and seemingly ends up back in Daphne's arms after it's revealed how she fucked up her prior friend, Himari. Sam doesn't do anything and the novel ends with Beatrice becoming Queen on her father's deathbed. 

We spent a whole novel with these characters hoping for some type of growth and change but no. Sam is still a party girl. Beatrice is still being a dutiful father. And Daphne is back at Jeff's side. Now I'm not saying that Nina needed to win, I'm just saying you can't have all this buildup to what is the novel's natural conclusion, throw in cancer and then go in a different direction. 

The ending feels fake and unearned because if the author wanted to tell a story about how the royal family was fake and superficial she could've done that but she didn't. These aren't irredeemable people who relish in their higher status. These are people who want to get out of it so that they're free to make their own choices but in the last twenty pages regress to the point of being stereotypes. 

There so many love triangles, so many lover's quarrels, so many "but we can't marry commoners" and you know what novel handled this so much better? Crazy Rich Asians. Crazy Rich Asians is a novel without a moral that is pure sugar and absolutely insane but there's still a...point. This novel lacks a point. And it's frustrating on top of all of its other problems to have an ending that feels so disconnected from the rest of the story. 

Would I re-read this? Probably. Again Daphne's great and sometimes I just need trash and scandal, but I'd be lying if I said that this is a great book. 

Three out of five.

⭐⭐⭐

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

it's been years since first son!stiles has been updates ahuhu

It’s because there aren’t that many fics with this tag out there, but I wish there were.

(P.S. If all you writers out there couldn’t catch that, I want some more :)) -Letta

protect what you love by haleofStilesheart

(1/1 | 804 | Teen | Sterek)

A scream wakes Derek up in the middle of the night. So goes the life of a Secret Service agent.

For the ❄ prompt: 66. “I had a nightmare.”

Not a Boy You Can Change (nor Should You Want To) by HDHale

(1/1 | 1,422 | Mature | Steter)

“Stiles.” Peter said it kindly, giving him the sort of look that made Stiles notice the lines on his face. Not weary, but his concern notable, while still entirely fond of the young man. After years he knew Stiles wasn’t someone whose will he could change, nor did he have any desire to.

Jealousy, Turning Saints into the Sea by Irresponsible_Bear

(1/1 | 1,552 | NR | Sterek)

The first son goes missing. Derek finds him.

My Date (?) with the President’s Son by braedens

(1/1 | 1,682 | NR | Skittles)

Day 7: president’s child and secret service agent + sciles

Peace and Quiet by mmmdraco

(1/1 2,216 | Explicit | Sterek)

Just because there’s an organization in town that would supposedly like nothing better than to kidnap President Stilinski’s son, doesn’t mean Stiles actually needs his bodyguard, his unfairly attractive bodyguard, to destroy all of his fun.

To Serve and Protect by alisvolatpropiis

(1/1 | 3,177 | Explicit | Sterek)

Love is a many splendored thing by Hedwig_Dordt

(1/1 | 3,334 | Teen | Sterek)

Prince Derek - of obscure European royalty, has been studying and working in the US for about a decade now -has been strong armed by his family to attend the state visit to the newly elected President Stilinski. He tries to hide on the edge of the party and meets an interesting young man.

Stiles Stilinski has been feeling a little adrift since his father was elected. He is under firm instructions from his father and his best friend to keep his face and/or ass out of the tabloids. He just needs something to do! But for now he’s just hiding from their European guests.

As always, they find each other

reGuardless by raisesomehale

(1/1 | 3,470 | Mature | Sterek)

The president had been to the point when he explained to Derek the rules of the job.

Stiles was in the room while these rules were recited: Never take your eyes off of him in public. That’s how he liked to dodge his last bodyguards. No more than an arm’s length apart. He’s more slippery than you’d think. Escort him to and from appearances. Intervene in any situation that might tarnish the Stilinski image…

The list went on and on. As did the games of chicken Stiles initiated to test Derek with these rules.

Heart’s on Fire by julietangel 

(1/1 | 6,696 | Explicit | Sterek)

Stiles should have known it was him, but he blames the games for distracting him from his soulmate.

Of Lifelines and Breaking Borders by CabbageOriley

(8/8 | 9,309 | Teen | Sterek)

“Hello!” he shouts. “Kidnapped! I’m being kidnapped!” If his hands were free he would be waving them wildly about. His plan to prevent anyone from knowing he’s inadvertently shoplifting is working, because everyone in the store is looking at him like he’s insane. The “Insanity Diversion”, works every time. “Does anyone see what’s going on here?! Not using my FREE WILL!” Stiles jerks his legs in a “look what I can do” fashion and almost succeeds in knocking camo man to the floor.

-Or the one where Stiles is secretly the President’s son and there’s a war going on between Humans and Weres and there’s a secret agency known as XenoSworn.-Also, Accidental Kidnapping is totally a tag. haha

Five Years and a Handful of Bullets by crimsonmuzzle, eeyore9990

(4/4 | 11,356 | Mature | Sterek)

“What happens when we graduate?”

Erica’s quiet for a minute, and Derek can feel her pity-gaze from hundreds of miles away. “Then you make a clean break. You know how hard this life is on relationships. They barely survive as it is; you definitely can’t keep one up long-distance. Have fun with your boy, but don’t get attached.”

Derek stares out the window of the little dorm room he shares with Stiles at Quantico, not seeing anything beyond his own troubled expression. “It might be too late for that.”

Or, the First Son FBI Agent Stiles/FBI Agent Derek AU you didn’t know you needed in your life.

This Kind of Luxe by sugarybowl, weathervaanes, wishingonalightningbolt

(1/1 | 15,113 | Explicit | Sterek)

As they have for almost every US President since the 1910s, the Prime Minister and the royal head of their country pay a visit to the United States after inauguration. Which is why, when President Jonathan Stilinski is elected into office, Queen Talia Hale of Norland plans their trip.

-0-

Prince Derek and First Son Stiles. Gooey, ridiculous romance ensues.

Bite Down Hard by KuriKuri

(1/1 | 25,730 | Explicit | Sterek)

For a moment, Derek can’t breathe.

Because moles aren’t the only thing marring the pale skin of Stiles’ neck. Oh no, that’s –

– that’s a bond bite. A bond bite which Stiles definitely did not have yesterday, and which appears to have roughly the same dimensions as Derek’s own mouth.

Shit.

(Or: In which Secret Service Agent Derek Hale accidentally gets bonded to First Son Stiles Stilinski. Oops.)

First Son, Last Chance by elephantfootprints

(12/12 | 60,390 | Mature | Sterek)

When First Son Stiles Stilinski, beloved public figure and the bane of his private security team, goes missing without a trace, ex-security officer Derek Hale finds himself tangled up in the world of Argent Security, a world he was forced out of when rumours abounded that he was sleeping with his charges.

There’s no leads, no time and no way Derek is going to rest until Stiles has been brought home safely.

[just-another-busy-fangirl-writes]

December 22, 2017 - Holiday Edition

I am reposting old fic rec lists.  Unfortunately some of the blogs/stories have been removed, but I am still going to list them for historical reference.

Feel free to tag me in ANY fics you post, and see previous weeks’ fic recs HERE

Hopefully this list helps those of you (us) who want to get away from our families for at least an hour or two over the holidays.  There’s quite a bit of fluff on this list, so hopefully these awesome fics put a smile on your faces!  There were a million more holiday stories that I’ve read the past few weeks, but I tried my best to spread the love to as many authors as I could.  Make sure you check out everyone who’s tagging Kari (@thing-you-do-with-that-thing) and Ida’s (@like-a-bag-of-potatoes) 12 Days of Christmas Challenge, cause a lot of writers are doing that!

Happiest of Holidays to all of you beautiful people!

SMUT

Santa Baby by @impala-dreamer   Dean may not be the Christmassy type, but he sure will try for Y/N…

Let’s Stay Home Tonight by @impalaimagining   You’ve done enough Christmassy crap by yourself, and all you want is your husband to come home. When his flight is delayed and you have a little more time to yourself, you decide to make his wait worth your while.

Sparkling by @kittenofdoomage   Fighting a Krampus was not how you wanted to spend Christmas, but at least you’ve met your soulmate. Even if he is a little… tied up.

Home for the Holidays by @luci-in-trenchcoats  After his flight home is cancelled, Jensen decides to spend Christmas with his co star and long time crush…

Santa Baby by @queen-of-deans-booty   You’ve been waiting all year for this to happen. You got your favorite sexy Santa lingerie and you just know Dean is going to love it on you.

The Bell Still Rings by @sp-oops   Set after 11x09 (and ignores the rest of the season). Just weeks after the Cage fiasco, Jody Mills gets TFW & co to Sioux Falls for some much-needed time off. Sam’s hurting, but man, is he happy to see you. So happy that you’re starting to think your longtime crush on him may not be as one-sided as you thought. Here’s hoping for some strategically-placed mistletoe.

We Love Anyway by @sp-oops   Set after 12x08. So you busted Sam and Dean out of federal lockdown and then skipped town. But now that the holiday weekend is here, and you’re lonely for them. Lonely for Dean. When Donna calls to invite everybody to her Christmas Eve wedding, you head north in a heartbeat. But when you get there, immersed in all the lights and splendor, it’s soon obvious that you’re not the only one pining for someone you didn’t think you could have. Will you have the guts to make a move?

The Cozy Christmas In by @whispersandwhiskerburn   You and Dean are snowed in.

FLUFF

First Christmas by @atc74   Rob and his new wife prepare for their first Christmas together.

Christmas Traditions by @crispychrissy   It’s the Holiday Season and you’re stuck in the bunker with a broken leg. Dean and Sam plan some activities for you after learning about your family’s holiday traditions.

Anything for You by @d-s-winchester   Your ex will be at the Christmas party your office is hosting. Instead of you going alone, Matt offers to pose as your boyfriend.

It’s Cold Outside by @docharleythegeekqueen   Christmas music helps set the mood as Dean and Cas spend the evening with their girlfriend and son.

One Horse Open Sleigh by @docharleythegeekqueen   A Christmas date you’re hoping is leading to a proposal goes in a completely different direction.

All You Want for Christmas by @evansrogerskitten   Jack is excited about his first Christmas as you teach him the holiday traditions. The special day also brings a surprise for you as well.

What You Always Asked For by @imagineteamfreewill   The reader is one of Santa’s elves that travels to a new town each year to make sure even the poorest of children can have a good Christmas. When the boys find a case that links her with a string of recent murders, however, she has to team up with them to help save the children she’s been tasked with watching over.

All I See by @impalaimagining   Jared and reader have been together for a while and decide to spend this Christmas alone in a cabin in Colorado.

What’s Your Hurry by @impalaimagining   You and Jensen host a Christmas party, and before too many guests arrive, Genevieve asked you about your future.

Little Drummer Boy by @jpadjackles   Louden Swain decide to host a small Christmas live stream for their fans. Rob invites a special guest to sing a song with him, and everyone can see the chemistry between them.

Mistletoe Surprise by @just-another-winchester   Dean plans a little surprise for you to show you how he really feels about you.

Cancelled Plans by @katymacsupernatural   Driving through a huge storm, you get Dean to pull over at the next hotel where you are snowed in.

Crackling Embers by @katymacsupernatural   Jared surprises the reader with a trip to a winter wonderland.

Cabin Fever by @luci-in-trenchcoats   The reader and the boys take a break from hunting for the holidays to head up to an out of the way cabin to meet up with some friends and have an old fashioned Christmas together…

Meeting the Parents by @luci-in-trenchcoats   You invite your boyfriend, Jensen, to spend Christmas with you where he meets your family for the first time…

A Very Supernatural Hanukkah by @saxxxology   When Sam finds out you don’t celebrate Christmas, he makes it his goal to make your next Hanukkah the best one you’ll ever have.

The Christmas Con by @whispersandwhiskerburn   Dean explains to you why Christmas isn’t for hunters.

The Gift Box by @whispersandwhiskerburn   Dean has to stay back during a hunt and stare at his Christmas present from Y/N the whole time.

Mistletoe Trap by @whispersandwhiskerburn   Why is there mistletoe everywhere?

Beware the Office Christmas Party by @winchesterprincessbride   It’s that one event of the year that you truly dread: The yearly Sandover Christmas party.  Last year was a disaster, and you are determined to avoid it at all costs. But your BFF Kate is forcing you to go, and the only saving grace is the chance you might run into your office crush.

The Elf on The Shelf Can Kiss My Ass by @winchesterprincessbride   Your daughter convinces you to get an Elf on the Shelf.

You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out, Dean! by @winchesterprincessbride   You introduce Sam and Dean to a Christmas movie that’s old to you but new to them.

ANGST

I’ll Be Home for Christmas by @impala-dreamer   Problems on set and two thousand miles of snow and ice between them means Jensen may not make it home for Christmas this year…

Pre-Christmas Catastrophe by @jpadjackles   Y/N is out finishing her Christmas shopping on one particularly snowy day. It’s smooth sailing until she’s coming home when her car slips on black ice. Luckily for her, she’s got an ambulance officer as a fiance who just so happens to be working that night.

It’s a Terrible Tree by @whispersandwhiskerburn   Sam Wesson is getting a bit tired of his job, but Y/N is the best part of his day.  Can he get their place ready for Christmas dinner with her mother?

SERIES

The Emporium of Christmas Enchantments by @almaasi (on AO3)   Every night when the clock strikes twelve, all the toys in the toymaker’s workshop come to life. Dean is a little wooden soldier, so easily distracted by the pretty dolls. However, in the nights leading up to Christmas, he feels drawn to a very different kind of toy: Castiel, a kindhearted cowboy displayed on the other side of the store. Dean and Castiel spend all their time together, spreading joy and festive cheer throughout their miniature community. But once the Christmas rush comes around, will fate allow them to stay together? (Perhaps… with a little sprinkling of Christmas magic, even the wishes of simple toys can come true.)

Celebrate Me Home by @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit   A Dean Winchester Holiday//Daddy//Bookstore!AU - After having a traumatic experience back home, the reader climbs into her car and begins driving with no place to go. She ends up in a small town in Vermont where she finds more than she bargained for.

12 Days of Dean and Donna: A Christmas Story by @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog   Christmas has become just another day for Dean, not worth celebrating. Donna, on the other hand, loves Christmas. Can she instill him with the Holiday Spirit by Christmas Day?

Another 12 Days of Dean and Donna: Christmas at the Bunker by @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog   Dean invites Donna to spend Christmas at the Bunker.

A Winmills Christmas by @ilostmyshoe-79   Follow Sam and Jody through the holiday season.

12 Years of Christmas by @sis-tafics   Dean and you go back further than your first night together. Actually, Dean’s had his own little secret for years. Told from Dean’s POV

[sodabonsai1]

The entire Guide to The latest Trends inside Stackable Engagement Bands for the Modern day Bride

Conviction is not required in doing an engagement ring, a stackable gemstone features a great either single or double wedding music group. When not needed, the stackable gemstone can be developed around the models that can be fixed even without the special tool. One particular of the stackable engagement rings made by Suzanne Kalan Jewels, these bands occupy minimal space and offer not any bulk or razor-sharp edges. Stackable Engagement Ring and lovely designs which any individual would love to be able to wear day by day. A great engagement ring is an important piece of jewelry that symbolizes dedication, love and riches. The invention involving the precious natural stone occurred a lot more than about three thousand years ago coming from when Queen Sophia found a big green diamond near your ex coffee beans in addition to noticed it altered color when the rest around it was dark. In 1939, a few who hitched through the Great Depressive disorder put their dollars together to order one new platinum-centered precious stone engagement ring rather than wedding gifts in addition to soon enough all people got employed in society implemented their trend. Usually, couples pick in addition to compose an engagement ring depending on individual preference or maybe the forms of gemstones in addition to diamonds they enjoy best: gemstones like the citrine can are available in different colours such as yellow-colored orange to heavy amethyst while gemstones come in bright & pure light source hue, so suit what you like. Stackable diamond rings allow females the joy of putting on an engagement about the ring little finger and another on some other ring finger.

Stackable engagement jewelry are growing in popularity these days because they offer a less conventional and more exciting opportinity for women to demonstrate folks that they happen to be engaged.

Most stackable rings possess a refined clear band of which acts as a barrier between each ring, making all of them precisely aligned any time worn. People utilize this ring instead of getting two distinct rings. This can easily be great for a person who is tight on money or even doesn't know exactly what she would like from her diamond gemstone. Fashion right now is involved with individual definitions of splendor. Women are putting on outlandish clothing, conveying their individuality and even character in the manner of Middle-Eastern fashion. Tying using this trend, stackable diamond rings have recently been rising in recognition since the ideal wedding ring for any woman. A ring produced by Librato in addition creates the perfect engagement ring. It is usually stackable and can easily be resized, which makes it perfect for the particular meaningful occasions. Regarding some people, a new stacking design might be less traditional as compared to an one-piece gemstone set. Having that will at heart, this style provides the same appeal using an extra twist. Building a custom made engagement ring will be needless work when you can actually find company that will produce the styles for you. Often you might need to transform the designs with regard to your rings because your idea was not what looked in first. Stackable engagement rings will established you apart from the wedding ring crowd A true romantic, you usually thought that all insisting on the subject of an one-of-a-kind diamond ring was too "commercial". So like a lot of who have decreased and then returned for this group more than the years, might found an innovative and unintended so this means for engagement wedding rings. Eager to find some sort of way of articulating your love both through jewelry in addition to through admiration (and to also re-think your life), an individual learned about stackable engagement rings. These kinds of are three or perhaps more bands that are designed to be worn together with each other at specific points in your life: with office attire, or which has a bathing suit, or while honoring important differences between men and women. You had been so impressed by exactly how this seemingly simple design translated straight into limitless creativity: commitment ceremonies; ordering traditions that evolved One thing to know is usually the trend regarding stacking rings. Putting engagement rings is certainly a newer trend that has swept over engagement band trends in recent times. A random person can have their personal reasons behind why they like stacked precious jewelry versus one reliable ring. For someone who wants to combine up their feels, stackable rings simply allow them an excellent degree of creative imagination while also staying in line with engagement ring decorations. If someone wants the greatest price probable by using an engagement engagement ring, going with an average quality stone makes more sense than splitting it into five gradually smaller stones for the same cost because it would theoretically yield about forty-percent more carat per rectangular millimeter and gem clearness The ring has its own different promises and locks connected to represent the eternal and ever-lasting claims that individuals share, that will love will never wither, we are right now there to support the other no matter precisely what. The gemstone is the promise of complete, utter, absolute, wholehearted love facing family and witnesses during our lives with each other. The engagement band should not be anywhere (including on the right hand). Engagement rings need to be worn around the engagement finger (ring finger of the particular left hand), merely one exchange type at a period rather than combine all of them. While keeping the couple intact are generally exquisite - gemstones are rare gems for their unparalleled brilliance, beauty and rarity - their very own colorless facades do not often reflect their most significant impact-stories from humanity? t earliest times crystal clear up until this kind of day. Though fairly

[whalecarol0]

The whole Guide to The latest Trends throughout Stackable Engagement Wedding rings for the Modern day Bride

Conviction is not required in doing an engagement ring, a stackable engagement ring features a good either single or perhaps double wedding strap. When not needed, the stackable engagement ring can be developed around the models of which can be mounted even without some sort of special tool. One particular of the stackable engagement rings made by Suzanne Kalan Jewels, these bands occupy minimal place and offer zero bulk or sharp edges. The stackability only results and lovely designs which anyone would love to be able to wear day by day. An engagement ring is usually an important piece of jewelry that symbolizes determination, love and riches. The invention of the precious natural stone occurred greater than a few thousand in years past coming from when Queen Sophia found a huge yellow diamond near your ex coffee beans plus noticed it improved color when anything else around it has been dark. In 1939, one or two who hitched during the Great Depressive disorder put their funds together to get an individual new platinum-centered gemstone engagement ring rather than wedding gifts and even soon enough just about all people got involved in society implemented their trend. Generally, couples pick plus compose an diamond ring depending on personalized preference or perhaps the sorts of gemstones in addition to diamonds they prefer best: gemstones such as the citrine can arrive in different tones such as yellow-colored orange to serious amethyst while gemstones come in whitened & pure light hue, so match what works best. Stackable engagement rings allow girls the enjoyment of wearing an engagement on the ring hand and another about some other hand. Stackable engagement rings are growing throughout popularity these times simply because they offer a new less conventional in addition to more exciting means for women to demonstrate individuals who they happen to be engaged.

Most stackable rings have got a delicate clear band of which acts as the barrier between each ring, making these people precisely fit together any time worn. People also use this ring rather than getting two independent rings. This could be ideal for someone who is tight on money or doesn't know accurately what she wants outside of her precious stone engagement ring. Fashion today is involved with personal definitions of splendor. Women are wearing outlandish clothing, expressing their individuality in addition to character in typically the manner of Middle-Eastern fashion. Tying on this trend, stackable proposal rings have already been rising in recognition as the perfect wedding engagement ring for any female. A ring developed by Librato also creates the right diamond ring. It will be stackable and can be resized, making it perfect for typically the meaningful occasions. For some people, some sort of stacking design may be less traditional as compared to an one-piece engagement ring set. Having that in mind, this design and style supplies the same elegance using an included twist. Building a tailor made engagement ring will be needless work when you might find company that will produce the patterns for you. Sometimes you may want to change the designs intended for your rings because your idea was certainly not what looked from first. Stackable diamond rings will fixed you apart from the engagement ring crowd An absolute romantic, you constantly thought that all insisting on an one-of-a-kind engagement ring was too "commercial". So like many who have gone down and then returned to this group more than the years, you have found an innovative and unintended significance for engagement wedding rings. Desperate to find a way of revealing your love each through jewelry and even through admiration (and to also re-think your life), a person learned about stackable engagement rings. Stackable Engagement Ring of are three or even more bands that are designed to be worn together at specific details in your life: with office clothes, or having a baths suit, or while honoring important distinctions between men and women. You had been so impressed by how this seemingly very simple design translated straight into limitless creativity: commitment ceremonies; ordering customs that evolved

The one thing to know is definitely the trend regarding stacking rings. Putting engagement rings is a newer pattern that has swept over engagement diamond ring trends in recent times. The random person will have their very own reasons behind why these people like stacked jewellery versus one sturdy ring. For a person who loves to blend up their appearances, stackable rings just allow them a great degree of creativity while also remaining in line using engagement ring decorations. If someone wants the greatest price feasible on an engagement diamond ring, going with a typical quality stone will work better than splitting that into five progressively smaller stones for the similar cost because this would theoretically render about forty-percent a lot more carat per rectangular millimeter and gem clearness The engagement ring has many different vows and locks intertwined to symbolize the everlasting and ever-lasting promises that individuals share, that love will in no way wither, we will be at this time there to support the other person no matter what. The engagement ring is a promise of absolute, wholehearted love looking at household and witnesses throughout our lives jointly. The engagement engagement ring should not become anyplace (including on the right hand). Engagement rings need to be worn within the engagement finger (ring finger of typically the left hand), only one exchange type at a moment rather than combine all of them. While keeping typically the couple intact are exquisite - expensive diamonds are rare rocks for their unequaled brilliance, beauty and rarity - their own colorless facades tend not to often reflect their very own most significant impact-stories from humanity? h earliest times clear up until this day. Though comparatively

[livehealthynewsusa]

“Power Bald” Male Celebrities – How Shaved Heads Became Trendy in 2021

Shrek is an iconic power bald head. Likewise RuPaul, host of RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars. But at the moment they are far from alone in their glittering splendor. Travis Barker is currently Kourtney Kardashian’s bald friend. Sean Evans is the powerful bald man from Hot Ones, while Stanley Tucci’s effortless Gravitas in Searching for Italy is just hot. And don’t forget the bald domination franchise, Fast & Furious, which features the glorious hairless heads of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, Jason Statham, Tyrese Gibson and Vin Diesel. This month Gibson and Diesel shine again with F9 in theaters.

Welcome to the world of power bald heads, a hectic but hairless community in upheaval. In fact, the summer of 2021 could just be a peak balding season, with Adam Levine hugging the hairless self-care style, four times the strongest man in the world, Brian Shaw looking slick lifting a Hyundai SUV in a car commercial. and the WWE Braun Strowman alias Adam Scherr, who posts particularly intoxicating workouts on Instagram.

For the uninitiated, power balding is an emerging movement by men who have shaved off their insecurities about being bald. While baldness has always been around, a new cultural shift, both on and off screen, has shown the power of focusing on simple, sleek appearance. One that allows value and beauty to be defined by principles other than the lush mane or the uniformity of its brush cuts.

Power bald Dwayne Johnson and Vin Diesel look stylish.

Buda mendesGetty Images

To be clear, power baldnesses aren’t Homer Simpsons. You will happily part with these two remaining hairs to hug their sleek heads. They’re not Voldemorts either. Your baldness is not the result of too much toxic masculinity. In fact, some of the most honorable power bald people are not men at all. Dora Milaje from Black Panther embodies the term, as does Sinéad O’Connor. As is Gossip Girl’s newest queen bee, Julien Calloway, played by Jordan Alexander. A bald head has power. They are proud of that. But above all, they try to handle it responsibly.

“Somebody who is power-bald is about the self-confidence in which you carry yourself,” says Roger Bennett, co-host of the TV show and podcast Men in Blazers, along with his “smooth guy” Michael Davies Men’s Health.

The two Britons who live in the US are the unofficial architects of the term power bald, if for no other reason than that there are few documents online that are said by anyone else. They have been using the term since around 2016, which still makes it an insider term. There are few Instagram hashtags or Reddit mentions. Urban Dictionary has no related entries.

Men-in-Blazers co-host and power-bald advocate Roger Bennett.

Courtesy of Gentlemen in Blazers

But for Men in Blazers and their nearly 231,000 Twitter followers, the term is canonical. Bennett says they have received hundreds of letters related to baldness since talking about it on their platforms. They often give their favorite smooth footballers like Pep Guardiola and Zinedine Zidane the title “Power Bald”. “It’s probably the only thing that really binds us apart from our love of football and America,” says Bennett.

As a “third generation bald guy” Bennett had no choice but to appreciate his thinning hairline. Balding had always felt inevitable to him, so he decided to accept that. By doing this and speaking openly about it, he has turned what might otherwise feel like a source of shame into something more empowering.

Soccer star Zinedine Zidane stays limber on and off the field.

GABRIEL BOUYSGetty Images

In fact, Bennett takes so much pride in being a power bald man that he questions the implications of certain sports characters battling the aftermath. In 2016, former Chicago Bears linebacker Brian Urlacher appeared on billboards and in testimonials for Restore, a hair transplant company. If you’ve been driving the toll road to O’Hare Airport outside of Chicago in the past few years, you’ve likely seen an Urlacher billboard with new turf on its head. Baseball Hall of Famer Ryne Sandberg and Pro Football Hall of Famer Deion Sanders also became speakers for Restore along with other famous retired athletes.

Overcoming one’s insecurities is a battle that neither muscle mass nor IQ can win, and men should be able to change their looks as they please. But there is a far cheaper and bolder move. “People, actually [go bald] with incredible bragging rights, these are the characters we’ve always hailed as Power Bald, ”says Bennett.

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At the same time, too much is being invested in treating baldness to completely normalize it, even if it is normal. Hair restoration remains a cornerstone of the male beauty industry. Toupees have gone viral and have been rebranded as trendy hair replacements. Hims, a digital health startup, recently valued at $ 1.6 billion and spokespersons for ex-married couple Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriquez, got involved selling prescriptions for hair loss (and erectile dysfunction) Names.

It may seem easier and cheaper to simply shave everything off than the headache of finding the most appropriate hair regrowth solution, but this is a huge commitment in its own right. “The easy solution to shaving your head is not an easy solution,” said Spencer Kobren, founder of the American Hair Loss Association, a private organization committed to raising public awareness of the emotional impact of hair loss on men .

Kobren told the New York Times in 2019 that he has been using finasteride, a drug used to treat hair loss, for 25 years. (It’s worth noting that finasteride, also known under the brand name Propecia, can have notable side effects.) “I wish everyone could be confident enough to shave their hair and not worry,” Kobren told Men’s Health. “That would be incredible, but there are just so many different components that the guys are uncomfortable with.”

For many, the act of baldness proudly appears to be one of the final refusals in the body positivity movement, a crusade that men are historically reluctant to accept. No wonder: men don’t know how to talk about their bodies. “How do we create security as men?” Psychiatrist Drew Ramsey, MD says. “Great chest. Big arms. Nice hair. Is that what it means to be a safe, mature man? “

The answer is a resounding no, but our culture would tell us otherwise. Take bald jokes like those recently raised on Prince William and LeBron James. They are still not considered taboo. The “joke” here is the Samson complex. A fear that, like biblical character, once you lose your hair, your strength, virality, and agency will all be lost.

LeBron James, still GOAT.

Robert LabergeGetty Images

Prince William remains royal.

Max Mama / IndigoGetty Images

But one look at some of Hollywood’s biggest action stars and iconoclastic athletes proves the Samson complex is a bust. LL Cool J made balding (and fedoras and bucket hats) cool. Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant and Mike Tyson have proven that strength is not tied to hair. Gandhi showed that strength arises in the head, not what is shown externally. And Mr. Clean has proven it can be squeaky clean.

There is even a YouTube channel called BaldCafe that produces sincere videos of guys shaving everything off that have gone viral and have millions of views. However, apart from the Fast and Furious crew, the power shift in Hollywood is not moving fast enough.

According to data compiled by media analytics firm The Streaming Graduate, the bald portrayal in narrative films and on television falls into three main categories: villains (Thanos, Darth Maul), action stars (Bruce Willis, Briton Bruce Willis aka Jason Statham), and cowards (Tobias Fünke, George Costanza). Often these archetypes intersect like the mischievous but clumsy Frank in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia or the weak and sinister Gollum from Lord of the Rings.

Jason Alexander in an episode of Seinfeld.

ABCGetty Images

Sarah-Mikal, director of analytics and strategy at Streaming Graduate, says you rarely see bald actors in romance or family films. The main exceptions are The Rock, Vin Diesel, and Dave Bautista, who have all starred in at least one kid-friendly action comedy. (Belated justice for the pacifier.)

Some pioneers of the power bald head are slowly penetrating the world of male modeling. Ben Whit is a London-based plus-size model who featured in a 2019 campaign for British men’s clothing retailer Jacamo. “I’m more of a niche market,” he says. “Since the plus-size industry is still so small at the moment, it is more difficult to find work.”

Although the market for whit has recently cooled (losing modeling due to the pandemic certainly didn’t help), it is focused on changing the perception of what baldness can look like, be it on Instagram, in interviews, or in fashion spreads. He hopes that “more men will realize, ‘I don’t really have to look like this …” [the standard model] be happy. He’s happy the way he looks and I look just like him. ‘”

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Like Whit, Bennett doesn’t view balding as a personal defect, even though it can often feel like we’re supposed to believe it. “Going bald can be a deep emotional trauma for a person,” says Bennett. But it doesn’t stay in that headspace. He refuses.

For him, it’s not his upcoming memoirs (Re) born in the USA or Men in Blazers that will be his legacy. It is co-coin and actively lives the term power bald. “Even if my own family has forgotten my name for several generations, I can look up or down… wherever I end up… and just know that if this is my contribution to the world, then it is worthwhile to approach one carve tombstone, ”he says. “I have to get myself a bigger tombstone than I imagined.” Well, this is a powerless move.

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source https://livehealthynews.com/power-bald-male-celebrities-how-shaved-heads-became-trendy-in-2021/

[just-another-busy-fangirl]

December 22 - Holiday Edition!

Feel free to tag me in ANY fics you post, and see previous week’s fic recs HERE

SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION:  Holiday Fics 2017 - Holiday Fics 2016

Hopefully this list helps those of you (us) who want to get away from our families for at least an hour or two over the holidays.  There’s quite a bit of fluff on this list, so hopefully these awesome fics put a smile on your faces!  There were a million more holiday stories that I’ve read the past few weeks, but I tried my best to spread the love to as many authors as I could.  Make sure you check out everyone who’s tagging Kari (@thing-you-do-with-that-thing) and Ida’s (@like-a-bag-of-potatoes) 12 Days of Christmas Challenge, cause a lot of writers are doing that!

Happiest of Holidays to all of you beautiful people!

SMUT

Santa Baby by @impala-dreamer    Dean may not be the Christmassy type, but he sure will try for Y/N…

Let’s Stay Home Tonight by @impalaimagining    You’ve done enough Christmassy crap by yourself, and all you want is your husband to come home. When his flight is delayed and you have a little more time to yourself, you decide to make his wait worth your while.

Sparkling by @kittenofdoomage    Fighting a Krampus was not how you wanted to spend Christmas, but at least you’ve met your soulmate. Even if he is a little… tied up.

Home for the Holidays by @luci-in-trenchcoats​   After his flight home is cancelled, Jensen decides to spend Christmas with his co star and long time crush…

Santa Baby by @queen-of-deans-booty    You’ve been waiting all year for this to happen. You got your favorite sexy Santa lingerie and you just know Dean is going to love it on you. 

The Bell Still Rings by @sp-oops    Set after 11x09 (and ignores the rest of the season). Just weeks after the Cage fiasco, Jody Mills gets TFW & co to Sioux Falls for some much-needed time off. Sam’s hurting, but man, is he happy to see you. So happy that you’re starting to think your longtime crush on him may not be as one-sided as you thought. Here’s hoping for some strategically-placed mistletoe.

We Love Anyway by @sp-oops    Set after 12x08. So you busted Sam and Dean out of federal lockdown and then skipped town. But now that the holiday weekend is here, and you’re lonely for them. Lonely for Dean. When Donna calls to invite everybody to her Christmas Eve wedding, you head north in a heartbeat. But when you get there, immersed in all the lights and splendor, it’s soon obvious that you’re not the only one pining for someone you didn’t think you could have. Will you have the guts to make a move?

The Cozy Christmas In by @whispersandwhiskerburn    You and Dean are snowed in.

FLUFF

First Christmas by @atc74    Rob and his new wife prepare for their first Christmas together.

Christmas Traditions by @crispychrissy    It’s the Holiday Season and you’re stuck in the bunker with a broken leg. Dean and Sam plan some activities for you after learning about your family’s holiday traditions.

Anything for You by @d-s-winchester    Your ex will be at the Christmas party your office is hosting. Instead of you going alone, Matt offers to pose as your boyfriend. 

It’s Cold Outside by @docharleythegeekqueen    Christmas music helps set the mood as Dean and Cas spend the evening with their girlfriend and son.

One Horse Open Sleigh by @docharleythegeekqueen    A Christmas date you’re hoping is leading to a proposal goes in a completely different direction.

All You Want for Christmas by @evansrogerskitten    Jack is excited about his first Christmas as you teach him the holiday traditions. The special day also brings a surprise for you as well.

What You Always Asked For by @imagineteamfreewill    The reader is one of Santa’s elves that travels to a new town each year to make sure even the poorest of children can have a good Christmas. When the boys find a case that links her with a string of recent murders, however, she has to team up with them to help save the children she’s been tasked with watching over.

All I See by @impalaimagining    Jared and reader have been together for a while and decide to spend this Christmas alone in a cabin in Colorado. 

What’s Your Hurry by @impalaimagining    You and Jensen host a Christmas party, and before too many guests arrive, Genevieve asked you about your future.

Little Drummer Boy by @jpadjackles    Louden Swain decide to host a small Christmas live stream for their fans. Rob invites a special guest to sing a song with him, and everyone can see the chemistry between them.

Mistletoe Surprise by @just-another-winchester    Dean plans a little surprise for you to show you how he really feels about you.

Cancelled Plans by @katymacsupernatural    Driving through a huge storm, you get Dean to pull over at the next hotel where you are snowed in. 

Crackling Embers by @katymacsupernatural    Jared surprises the reader with a trip to a winter wonderland.

Cabin Fever by @luci-in-trenchcoats    The reader and the boys take a break from hunting for the holidays to head up to an out of the way cabin to meet up with some friends and have an old fashioned Christmas together…

Meeting the Parents by @luci-in-trenchcoats    You invite your boyfriend, Jensen, to spend Christmas with you where he meets your family for the first time…

A Very Supernatural Hanukkah by @saxxxology    When Sam finds out you don’t celebrate Christmas, he makes it his goal to make your next Hanukkah the best one you’ll ever have.

The Christmas Con by @whispersandwhiskerburn    Dean explains to you why Christmas isn’t for hunters.

The Gift Box by @whispersandwhiskerburn    Dean has to stay back during a hunt and stare at his Christmas present from Y/N the whole time.

Mistletoe Trap by @whispersandwhiskerburn    Why is there mistletoe everywhere?

Beware the Office Christmas Party by @winchesterprincessbride    It’s that one event of the year that you truly dread: The yearly Sandover Christmas party.  Last year was a disaster, and you are determined to avoid it at all costs. But your BFF Kate is forcing you to go, and the only saving grace is the chance you might run into your office crush.

The Elf on The Shelf Can Kiss My Ass by @winchesterprincessbride    Your daughter convinces you to get an Elf on the Shelf.

You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out, Dean! by @winchesterprincessbride    You introduce Sam and Dean to a Christmas movie that’s old to you but new to them.

ANGST

I’ll Be Home for Christmas by @impala-dreamer    Problems on set and two thousand miles of snow and ice between them means Jensen may not make it home for Christmas this year…

Pre-Christmas Catastrophe by @jpadjackles    Y/N is out finishing her Christmas shopping on one particularly snowy day. It’s smooth sailing until she’s coming home when her car slips on black ice. Luckily for her, she’s got an ambulance officer as a fiance who just so happens to be working that night.

It’s a Terrible Tree by @whispersandwhiskerburn    Sam Wesson is getting a bit tired of his job, but Y/N is the best part of his day.  Can he get their place ready for Christmas dinner with her mother?

SERIES

The Emporium of Christmas Enchantments by @almaasi (on AO3)    Every night when the clock strikes twelve, all the toys in the toymaker’s workshop come to life. Dean is a little wooden soldier, so easily distracted by the pretty dolls. However, in the nights leading up to Christmas, he feels drawn to a very different kind of toy: Castiel, a kindhearted cowboy displayed on the other side of the store. Dean and Castiel spend all their time together, spreading joy and festive cheer throughout their miniature community. But once the Christmas rush comes around, will fate allow them to stay together? (Perhaps... with a little sprinkling of Christmas magic, even the wishes of simple toys can come true.)

Celebrate Me Home by @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    A Dean Winchester Holiday//Daddy//Bookstore!AU - After having a traumatic experience back home, the reader climbs into her car and begins driving with no place to go. She ends up in a small town in Vermont where she finds more than she bargained for.

12 Days of Dean and Donna: A Christmas Story by @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog    Christmas has become just another day for Dean, not worth celebrating. Donna, on the other hand, loves Christmas. Can she instill him with the Holiday Spirit by Christmas Day?

Another 12 Days of Dean and Donna: Christmas at the Bunker by @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog    Dean invites Donna to spend Christmas at the Bunker.

A Winmills Christmas by @ilostmyshoe-79    Follow Sam and Jody through the holiday season.

12 Years of Christmas by @sis-tafics    Dean and you go back further than your first night together. Actually, Dean’s had his own little secret for years. Told from Dean’s POV

[discnchant]

THEIR MAJESTIES KING CORNELIUS AND QUEEN THUMBELINA OF THE VALE OF THE FAERIES ARE PROUD TO PRESENT THEIR CHILD, THEIR ROYAL HIGHNESS SEVASTYAN PETIT, FOR THE UPCOMING SOCIAL SEASON. WE HEAR THEY’RE WINSOME AND SUAVE, BUT CAN ALSO BE FINICKY AND IMPULSIVE. AND IT’S SAID THEY BARE A REMARKABLE RESEMBLANCE TO DOUGLAS BOOTH, BUT THAT’S MERELY A COINCIDENCE. WE’RE SURE THEY’LL CAUSE QUITE A STIR IN THE TON THIS YEAR, BUT ONLY TIME WILL TELL.

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Sevastyan Jacquimo Colbert Petit NICKNAME(S): Sev AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 25, 03/20/1800 GENDER: Cisman PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: The Vale of the Faeries, Enchanted Forest

BIOGRAPHY

hidden within the lush trees and thicket of the enchanted forest there is a gateway to a separate realm of such splendor and glamour that should a human venture within, they will surely lose themselves completely. this place, magical and radiant, where colors you didn’t know existed and where the air itself sparkles, where beautiful but dangerous things hide in the shadows of obsidian lakes and under twisting roots, and where eternity wages on in lazy wonderment. this place where the most magical sentient beings call home. the vale of the faeries.

under a canopy of shimmering stars and iridescent skies, the vale of the faeries is a realm so far separate from the grounded reality of auradon and yet the two worlds are deeply connected. the stories and the magic which has prevailed in auradon would not exist without the vale of the faeries after all, and their winged inhabitants that have played compatriot to many a damsel and youth in need. like all lands, there needs to be law and order within faerie and as such there needs to be a royal family to guide them. within the vale of the faeries there has existed such a family for centuries — the petits of the vale. with their current high king cornelius and high queen thumbelina, the family continues to strive and lead the faerie realm.

among the impish and charming members of the faerie court there is a young willowy man who spends his days lounging by the silver rivers, eating crimson and violet berries and lazily playing a bamboo panflute. upon his head he wears a wreath of golden leaves on green vines and long shimmery robes which match the iridescence of his writhing wings. day by day, this young faerie wastes away in the sunlight, spends nights in the arms of different lovers, and drinks merrily with the various court members, none the wiser of the world beyond and it’s many intricacies. but such is the carefree life of a faerie prince.

sevastyan jacquimo colbert petit was born at the turn of the century, on the first coloring of the springtime flowers in the year 1800. it was tradition for the high king and high queen to away to auradon in order to herald in spring in the other world but for the first time in centuries, the presiding royals did not appear. the birth of a new crown prince was more important, after all. the only son of the reigning monarchs, sevastyan needn’t want for anything at all his whole life. aside from the fact that the faerie realm had positively anything anyone could need, and everything was easy to conjure up with magic at your finger tips, the prince was heavily doted upon and cared for. if he desired anything, then someone would bring it directly to him at his request. there were many that assumed that should they dote deeply upon the prince then they could be in his favor, and thus in the favor of the crown. fae were a finicky and self centered people, anything they could do to help propel themselves forward they would take.

for his part, sevastyan became just as he was expected to be: charming, good humored, winsome and elegant. handsome, though that was expected from fae. like other faeries he was impish and puckish, prone to harmless pranks and tomfoolery. a benevolent trickster at heart, he was likewise known for being rather amorous and freely open with his sexuality. monogamy was a construct in faerie but not exactly a popular idea. with how long faeries lived, they didn’t feel the need to limit to one partner and this was a concept sevastyan took to. he had lovers all across the realm, and when he began making appearances in auradon to usher in the equinoxes, he began finding lovers among the mortals. he relished in passionate flings, but didn’t allow his attention to be kept for long. he could be seen as a cad by the many spurned lovers he’d left behind, but it was simply the faerie way. faeries were natural lovers of all things beautiful and vibrant, so why couldn’t he appreciate all the pretty little things that existed all around him?

despite his polyamorous ways, it is somewhat expected for sevastyan to seek out a spouse. there are clear favorites among the faeries in both the vale, auradon and pixie hollow — for one, he has found a faerie from neverland he quite enjoys the company of — and while it isn’t very common, his parents are even open to the possibility of a human spouse so long as it means seeing sevastyan settled down and on his way to becoming high king. they feel it’s time for him to become more serious, to take the duty of monarch more solemnly. so his appearance in auradon is both because he was to lead the coloring of flowers but also because they want him to learn the ways of polite society and courtship. perhaps under the stifling decorum of auradon’s marriage mart, sevastyan can desire to seek out a companion for life.

of course it’s not easy. sevastyan is polite, and courteous, and charming and suave, and he has a grasp of formality and manners. however, sevastyan also doesn’t have the same social courtesies as others. he doesn’t fully understand the decorum and social niceties that the others run their lives by and instead finds auradon society to be rather boring. he aims to cause a stir, to create situations in auradon for harmless fun and unraveling of the stuffy way people act. he loves the idea of the shadow realm citizens now in auradon. while he has no enemy to fear from the other side of the enchanted mirror, he finds a wicked pleasure in using their arrival to cause some mischief and merriment. anything to help the nobles loosen up and have some fun for a bit.

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Panromantic FAMILY: Cornelius Petit (father), Thumbelina Petit (mother) FACE CLAIM: Douglas Booth HEIGHT: 6’1” TITLE: Crown Prince Sevastyan PINTEREST: (x)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

tbd