#guide to myths and secrets

[officialurban]

The Women's Encyclopedia of Myths & Secrets - Barbara G. Walker

Table of Contents

Table of Contents organized with links to the various sections and a download link for the full PDF

[aroaceleovaldez]

every once in awhile i remember that Percy Jackson et les Secrets de l'Olympe: Apollon et Artémis, Les Jumeaux Terribles exists. like yeah there's just a random French-only ghostwritten companion book. huh.

[legionofmyth]

Mage: The Ascension: Nodes - Creating Realities Using Nodes

🌌 Learn how to create realities using Nodes in Mage: The Ascension by White Wolf Publishing! Discover the secrets to bending reality with the power of Quintessence. Elevate your game and become a true mage! Watch now! #MageTheAscension #TTRPG #TabletopRPG

Mage: The Ascension (1E) Mage: The Ascension (2E) Dive into the divine art of creating realities using Nodes in Mage: The Ascension. These sacred places are more than reservoirs of Quintessence; they are the crucibles where new worlds are forged. Learn how to bend reality to your will, crafting new dimensions with the power of Nodes. Don’t miss this enlightening exploration of magickal creation.…

[southernflamesbbq]

BBQ Sauce Myths Busted: Truth About the Best BBQ Sauce & Flavor Secrets

Think sauce is the boss of BBQ? Discover the truth behind BBQ sauce myths, explore regional BBQ flavors, and learn when and how to use the best BBQ sauce for your smoked meats. From the classic sauce vs. dry rub debate to the rich BBQ sauce history, this guide reveals everything a true BBQ lover needs to know. Whether you’re grilling in Germantown or smoking meats in Chestnut Hill, get expert tips from local pitmasters and elevate your next cookout with real flavor insights. It's time to rethink what makes BBQ truly legendary.

[empyrealix]

⊹ ࣪˖ MY LOVE, MY LIFE | #CS55

pairing. carlos sainz x linguist!reader

synopsis. in which everyone thinks you and carlos should get married

warnings. none; linguistics rambles

note. i rambled a bit about linguistics in this one, i'm sorry

MASTERLIST ; requests open

yn

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and 365 others

yn Happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend Paul Grice, whose pioneering work (alongside J. L. Austin) is the reason pragmatics exists as its own subfield in linguistics. Central to Grice is the cooperative principle, conversational implicature, and his maxims (of which there are four: maxim of quality; maxim of quantity; maxim of manner; maxim of relation/relevance). Grice thought that speakers may communicate either by breaking the maxims or by obeying them, when a maxim appears to be violated, a pragmatic inference is created. This is only possible if the speaker is believed to be cooperative. An important point is that speakers—as long as they are cooperative—are generally guided by these maxims.

Happy anniversary to me and Carlos too, I guess.

view all comments

alex_albon please wish him a proper happy anniversary, he’s been whining for ten minutes

yn Sorry, but Grice > Carlos

charles_leclerc yn, please. he cornered me in the paddock, and now i’m late for a strategy meeting 🥹

scuderiaferrari Get to the meeting right now, Charles. -Fred

user1 yn is so real for that

carlossainz55 happy anniversary, mi amor <3 i love you, and i cannot wait for our dinner later today

yn I love you more, Carlito <33 I’m so excited to see you later and to celebrate our anniversary

carlossainz55 i love you the most, actually

user2 PLEASE JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY

user3 okay, so yncarlos marriage when?

user4 second this

user5 fourth this

user6 MOTHER

carlossainz55

liked by yn, alex_albon and 467,075 others

carlossainz55 she brought me here only to spend the entire time talking about accents

view all comments

lando there was a race?

carlossainz55 and? she’s more important

charles_leclerc you’re so whipped

alex_albon you’re so whipped

user7 GET MARRIED PLEASE

georgerussell63 photo credit: georgerussell63

user8 guys, what if they’re already married?

user9 that’s delusional

user10 there’s no way charles would be able to keep it secret if that was the case

charles_leclerc I CAN KEEP A SECRET

lando no, you can’t

alex_albon no, you can’t

georgerussell63 no, you can’t

yn No, you can’t

carlossainz55 no, you can’t

charles_leclerc you’re all so MEAN to me

yn You loved it

carlossainz55 i love you

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 643 others

yn Since it’s race weekend here in Australia, it is only right that some facts are shared about the variety of English which is spoken here, Australian English (AusE, for short). English came to Australia through convicts being transported from Britain. It eventually became a killer language, which means that it replaced the aboriginal languages which already existed in Australia—and had existed in Australia long before English made its entrance. Unlike other varieties of English (like British English and American English) there is little regional variation in AusE, but there is social variation. When talking about AusE, it is possible to differentiate between three main varieties: broad AusE, general AusE, and cultivated AusE. Some noticeable features of this variety is that it has two productive noun suffixes: -ie and -o; she may be used as a generic pronoun; and it has highly characteristic vocabulary. Regarding phonetics, AusE is non-rhotic, which means that /r/ is only pronounced in front of vowels. Another notable feature of AusE phonology is that it has HRTs (this is sometimes referred to as Australian Questioning Intonation). HRT is short for high rise terminals; this means that declarative sentences often end with a rising pitch.

view all comments

user11 my favourite part about the races is yn’s linguistic rambles

user12 my favourite part of her instagram is her linguistic rambles

user13 when’s the wedding?

user14 stop asking them about when they’re getting married. it’s getting weird

charles_leclerc thank you, this was very informative

user15 i imagine carlos asking a million questions and getting increasingly confused

carlossainz55 i understood all of this actually

yn You got distracted and asked if we could get ice cream in the middle of my explanation of killer languages.

carlossainz55 i still enjoy listening to you, even though most of it goes over my head

user16 ditch carlos, yn, i’ll listen to your explanations of killer languages

carlossainz55 don’t flirt with my wife??

user17 WIFE? WIFE? MR SAINZ?

carlossainz55

liked by yn, williamsracing and 923,460 others

carlossainz55 summer break spent in spain with the love of my life. i’m ready to get back to racing and scoring points

view all comments

williamsracing We’re excited to see you back in the garage carlossainz55

carlossainz55 i'm excited to be back!

user18 MR SAINZ, YOU HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE WIFE COMMENT

user19 what wife comment??

user20 on one of yn’s posts carlos referred to yn as his wife

user19 i log off for one day and suddenly carlos has a whole WIFE??

user20 we don’t know for sure, yet

yn Carlos <333 please come back to bed :(

carlossainz55 i’ll be right there, mi vida

yn

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon and 1,230 others

yn So sad I couldn’t be at the race this weekend, but duty called. I wish Carlos, Alex and Williams the best luck this weekend!

view all comments

williamsracing Thank you, yn. We’re so sad you couldn’t be here this weekend, but we’ll see you at the next race?

yn Absolutely!

lando god, just get married already

carlossainz55 we did??

yn CARLOS

user21 did anyone else see carlos’ comment or am i going insane?

user9 what if user8 was right?

user8 I TOLD YOU BUT YOU ALL THOUGHT I WAS DELUSIONAL

carlossainz55

liked by yn, georgerussell63 and 943,124 others

carlossainz55 three months ago, i married the love of my life in a small courthouse in a coastal town in spain

view all comments

yn And I got to marry the love of my life. Here’s to many more years with you

carlossainz55 to the rest of our lives

user8 WHAT DID I TELL YOU, BUT NO, I WAS DELUSIONAL

georgerussell63 congratulations, you two!

charles_leclerc I KNEW IT

user22 THEY’VE BEEN MARRIED SINCE THE SUMMER BREAK? I’M SICK

williamsracing Congratulations on your wedding! We’re so happy for you!

user23 A YNCARLOS MARRIAGE?? FINALLY!!

user24 OUR PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED

lando i feel betrayed, you were married for three months and didn’t tell me?? we are no longer friends

yn

liked by carlossainz55, lando and 943 others

yn Does the language people speak influence the way they think? If you ask Edward Sapir and Benjamin Lee Whorf, that is true. Though neither Sapir or Whorf coined the term “Sapir-Whorf hypothesis” they have come to be associated with it. The central idea of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis is that the languages a person speaks determines the way people perceive and think about the world. There are three version of this hypothesis: the strong Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, which claims that the only conceptual distinctions people can make are those encoded in language because language imposes these distinctions on sense data; the restricted Sapir-Whorf hypothesis claims that some topics are such that the only conceptual distinctions are those encoded in language. This is because language imposes these distinctions on relevant sense data. The last version of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis is the watered-down Sapir-Whorf hypothesis. This version claims that there are some topics that are influenced by language, specifically this happens for things that are habitually or stereotypically thought about, an example of this is grammatical gender. The strong Sapir-Whorf hypothesis is false; the restricted Sapir-Whorf hypothesis is unproven; the watered-down one is the only one which may be true. The answer to my question, then, suggests that languages influences the way people think in respect to scarcely perceptible cognitive biases and subtle stereotypes.

view all comments

user25 GIRL, you just got married to THE carlos sainz and you’re talking about linguistics

yn Linguistics is the love of my life

carlossainz55 i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life listening to you talking about linguistics

yn Forever <3

lando oh no, they’re more insufferable now than they were before

carlossainz55 this is your fault

yn I second that

user26 yn really said the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis is more important than her husband

user27 an icon

[loveanddeepsecrets]

Domestic + Intimate Headcanons Pt. II

An impromptu two parter of me just spitballing (Pt. I for reference). This started out as a cutesy mini headcanon post for Raf’s bday, but quickly grew into hyper specific romantic scenarios and wishful thinking. It’s still probably clear who my mains are 😭 but I did my best to showcase the humility in all LIs

⤠ Disclaimer: I’m quite happy with the intimate headcanons from my initial post and truthfully couldn’t expand too too much without basically repeating myself from last time. So with the exception of Caleb, there’s a bit less spicy bullets this go-round :/

⤠ Tags: 18+, MDNI, *slight spoilers depending on affinity level or personal progress in main story +myths, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but written with an afab + fem!reader in mind

⤠ Word count: 2.1k (mostly proofread)

Xavier

SFW

✧ Eats the raisins you pick out of the trail mix

✧ Always draws stars next to your name when writing you letters/cards

✧ Bookstore dates. At every visit, you pick one of your favourite books to read for each other

✧ After begging him tirelessly to teach you a song, *any song* on the piano, he mischievously chose ‘Heart & Soul’

✧ Saves every voicemail/voice note. He often replays them to stay sane on dangerous solo missions 

✧ On top of that, he made a bunny plushie version of you at one of those 'Build-A-Bear' type shops and used one of your voice notes . He sleeps with it on nights he can't sleep with you

✧ Sprays more cologne on his hoodies knowing you love the scent. He also thinks the extra spritz of fragrance will ward off other men since he knows you borrow his clothes. It’s his silent way of marking what’s his

✧ Loves making you blush. He didn't get enough time to court you in the past timeline on Philos, so he seizes every opportunity to (quite effortlessly) rizz you up to see your flushed expression

NSFW

✧ [canonically makes bolder moves to see how you’d react —secret times lvl 165]

✧ Game head. He gets a bit of an adrenaline rush if you do it while he’s online

✧ Doesn’t give not one shit about how loud you guys are. He probably prefers sex on the couch on the off chance Charlie might be passing through the hallway

✧ Though I still think he’s pretty quiet, he becomes a bit of a whiny mess when you’re edging him

✧ A gripper. Grabs on your ass during cowgirl, your chest during missionary, your hips/thighs during doggy, etc

✧ Sprained his neck from holding your hips down and guiding you when you sat on his face. It left him smirking throughout his recovery. Every painful twitch was a pleasant reminder of a job well done 

✧ Has the fastest pace ot5. He moves at lightning speed when batting wanderers, so he probably moves at a back breaking break neck speed while inside of you 

✧ After rewatching the 'No Restraint' card on YouTube… *sweats* he’s got magic fingers. I’ll put it like this and move on: firm, tiny circles 🫠

Caleb

SFW

✧ 10+ hours long face time calls

✧ Would actually be pretty decent at the claw machine if he wasn't such a massive cheater

✧ Utility man. He's your personal chauffer, home chef, alarm clock, umbrella, trainer, handyman, and so on. He strives to be the perfect emergency contact

✧ Has definitely seen those videos of couples trying to recreate yoga poses and had you try with him (would probably cheat using his evol)

✧ Bounces his leg if you scratch that one spot on his head when you play with his hair

✧ You always end up sitting on his lap when cuddling watching tv or reading peacefully together 

✧ Holds pinkies more often than holding hands

✧ Super athletic and adventurous dates i.e. zip lining, skydiving, paragliding, kayaking, hiking, etc. He’s patient, encouraging, and talks you through the scariest parts of the activity and rewards you with several kisses in between telling you how brave you were

NSFW

✧ Hands down has the roughest sex regularly ot5

✧ Mile high club

✧ Orgasm denial + overstimulation 

✧ LOUD, TALKATIVE, and MESSY 

✧ Sloppy eater

✧ He expects a sloppy eater in return. Is probably the type to grab your head and start guiding you when he’s close 

✧ Ik I said Xavier was bossy, but this man? His gravity evol? His colonel position? CONTROL FREAK

✧ Likely has the biggest “Sir” kink

✧ While I do think he aligns slightly more with booktok Sylus, I can’t see where degradation would fit with their dynamic. You’re the very thing he wants to shield and protect. Why would he degrade what he cherishes?

✧ On the softer side, he’s the type to melt into your touch. There’s true devotion in his eyes (and heart) when you’re making love

✧ On the days where he’s not rough, the sex is more sensual and almost tantric 

✧ Will always find a way to be physically closer to you during the act. Whether it’s putting his forehead on yours, burying his face in your neck, hugging your waist, or simply holding hands 

✧ You both probably cried (happy tears) after your first time. Being intimate felt like a confirmation from the universe that you knew each other more than words could express. There was no trial and error, you just knew 

Sylus

SFW

✧ Hot air balloon rides

✧ Monogram matching robes

✧ Secret fan of game shows. He thinks they’re hilarious— or in his words “highly amusing”

✧ Bought you a birdhouse + birdfeeder for your apartment after he noticed you birdwatching on the last date 

✧ Purposely chooses horror films on movie nights on the chance you’ll hold onto him and hide your face in his chest. He’ll laugh and make some remark about being hurt that you’d use him as a shield, but will hold you tighter and soothe you later in the night when you’re too scared to sleep

✧ Random slow dances. In the kitchen on the nights you make dinner together; in his study while music emits from his record player; in the bathroom, sleepily swaying side to side while lazily brushing your teeth 

✧ Whenever you're holding hands, he often aimlessly draws random shapes on your ring finger

✧ I think all the LADS men have a default position they fall into when getting close or snuggling up. For Sylus, it’s resting his chin on your shoulder. It’s the perfect place to capture your scent plus, he can hear and feel your heartbeat. Of course he’ll playful bite or nuzzle into your neck, but he rests his head there because it’s most familiar and comforting to him and his old dragon form

NSFW

✧ Road head 

✧ Mile high club

✧ Eye contact 

✧ Has a secluded sex dungeon even Luke & Kieran don’t know about

✧ Due to the nature of his job, I don’t think he’d engage in explicit sexting. Too many people on his case and has probably dealt with his fair share of hackers. If one of your messages/photos/videos leaked anywhere, it would be the end of the N109 zone and the world as we know it 

✧ That being said, if he wants to make home movies, it’s done with a vintage film camera to ensure the utmost privacy

✧ More of a grunter and groaner than a moaner. The few times he does moan, is when he’s buried between your legs

✧ I actually think he’d be into role play. He likes how you always keep him quick on his feet in your relationship, and will often humour and indulging in the change of pace. He’d like this even more in the bedroom

✧ Chuckles to himself and humours you whenever you suggest 69ing bc he knows you’ll inevitably just lay there with his dick idle in your hands, while you whimper on top of him

✧ Stamina coach. His methods for overstimulation are twofold. While he loves the state of you withering and coming completely undone, he also does this to help you expand your limitations and enjoy each other for as long as he can go. I already said he’s a pleasure dom, but he’s a pleasure dom with a purpose

Zayne

SFW

✧ Botanical garden tours

✧ Couples ice skating during the holiday season 

✧ Uses his surgical skills to patch up injured plushies [x] 

✧ He may or may not have added an extra rest day or two in your doctor’s note to Jenna so he can spend more time with you. He’ll deny it and insist you need the additional rest, and who better to take care of you other than your doctor?

✧ There’s something about the way he holds your hand that’s sickeningly sweet. Gentle, slightly cool to the touch that warms up quickly, with loving caresses

✧ Surprised you to a dessert degustation for your anniversary. Each dish is a highlight of the standout desserts you tried over the year

✧ Occasional late night strolls along the river. He passively recalls scenes from the western dramas you watch and (successfully) tries skipping rocks

✧ Enjoys exploring artistic outlets with you. Often suggests different workshops to try i.e. stained glass studios, culinary classes, candle making, terrarium building, etc

✧ A bit needy nowadays. To experience a love he never knew he could have, makes him hold your hand a little more tightly, hug you a few seconds longer and kiss you twice as many times as he did before

NSFW

✧ Much like Sylus, he’s also big on eye contact (when he’s in control)

✧ Literally the cutest thing ever when you go down on him. He’ll keep his composure, and lustfully tell you what he wants, but gets so flustered and stuttering as the pleasure builds and he gets close

✧ Truthfully, I don’t like to compare Zayne and Caleb all that much, but the love making between you two is also very tantric

✧ If you listen to the way he kisses you, it’s pretty similar to how he eats you. When completely drunk off your juices, it’s like he’s breathing you in. There’s a desperation to his licks and kisses, feening for the taste of your nectar

✧ He’s also the type to spell out his name with his tongue over and over again. Think of it as a spell. He needs to hear you call to him

✧ Incredibly patient. Foreplay isn’t some tit for tat curtesy thing, it’s important to him. He’s less of a tease and more methodical. "Relax into my arms. No, I'm not bullying you. I need you to come for me again. You should always warm up before stretching, and I don't want to hurt you so please, come for me love. Can you do that for me?"

✧ A stickler for clear communication. You must speak in full complete sentences. It’s not enough to say just say “Please.” What exactly are you pleading him to do?

✧ Slight exhibitionist. He’ll never allow you to get caught, but likes the challenge of finding the quickest ways to cover your mouth— using his hand, tie or lips to stifle your moans

Rafayel

SFW

✧ Hates going in hot springs, saunas, or jacuzzies. He’ll say he feels like a boiling crab

✧ Asked to keep your first completed sketchbook that are filled with many one on one art lessons with him

✧ Can’t sleep if some semblance of you isn’t with him. Will literally drag or carry you to the couch so he can take a nap. You don’t have to nap with him, just lay next to him and stroke his hair

✧ Apart from Moments, you’re the only one he’s following on all socials

✧ Always responds with a stream of texts in all caps and several emojis when you send him a selfie 

✧ His biggest artistic aspiration is to find just the right pigments/colours that encapsulates you. Next is finding a colour palette that encapsulates both of you 

✧ Used to think you were mocking him when you took him on aquarium dates

✧ Your pearl engagement ring was made from the tears he cried while drafting his proposal speech [x]

NSFW

✧ Next to Sylus, he’s a comfort king. Making sure you have enough pillows underneath you during missionary; repositioning you when he notices your head leaning off the edge of the bed; several consent check ins; "my hands aren't too cold, right?"; taking over when your legs start to tire out from riding him, etc

✧ Unpopular opinion, I think he’s the most into period sex out of the five. You really think a MERMAN is scared of the red sea???

✧ Speaking of which, he’s extra sensitive to your scent and the way you feel when you’re on your cycle. Though he won’t necessarily initiate anything 

✧ Has you take the week off for Ebb Day. You’ll need the extra down time and he’s more than happy to spend the rest the week caring for you till you're back in good health

✧ On particularly intense— passionate rounds, he starts swearing/speaking in Lumerian

✧ Pretty gentle with you when you go down on him. He’s usually holding your hair back, softly running his fingers through your strands or caressing the back of your neck 

✧ The biggest tease when he’s eating you out and MEAN about it too. Giggling when you mewl. That annoying "mmm?” when you start to get louder. "Speak up, cutie."

✧ Best stroke game. Ik I said this last time, but I’m dying on this hill. Dizzying backshots, frontshots, sideshots— literally whatever position you’re in, his hips are steady, fluid, and unrelenting

ꨄ︎ A/N: Thanks for reading 🤍 these lists were a bit harder to make this time ngl. Quite a few bullets from pt. I are now canon— which I’m happy about ofc, but it made it harder to bounce around new ideas since there’s fewer “what ifs”. It’s probably best to end this series here tbh. But I’m definitely open to different content suggestions to post next!

[x] - denotes credit for headcanon inspo.

⤠ dividers by saradika-graphics & anitalenia

[surielstea]

First Impressions

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhys is a bumbling buffoon when it comes to meeting his mate for the first time.

Warnings: awkward tension, reader lives in the hewn city

A.Note: not totally proud of this one since it’s hard for me to write first meeting stories with a concluding ending, but I hope you guys enjoy :)

Word count: 4.8k words

The scratching at my door had me sitting up in an instant, my back pressing against the cold stone wall as my hand slid beneath my pillow, fingers curling around the worn hilt of my dagger. My breath came shallow, controlled, as I listened—waiting for another sound, another shift in the air that might give away whoever had decided to test their luck tonight.

Life in the Hewn City never allowed for restful sleep. Not when shadows slithered in every alley when cruelty pulsed like a second heartbeat through its streets. And especially not now that Morrigan was gone.

Her father's estate had been far from a sanctuary, but at least the sheer power Keir wielded had kept the worst of the monsters at bay. Here, in my apartment on the outskirts of town, I had no such protection. Only thin walls, shattered locks, and neighbors who wouldn't need a reason to break into a young female's bedroom—who wouldn't care that I was High Fae, not when my magic was little more than a flickering candle in the wind.

A shiver danced down my spine as I gripped my dagger tighter, pulling it free just as the handle of my door twisted. My breath stilled.

Wards should have held. I'd watched Mor herself etch them into the worn wood, her golden power laced with every careful stroke. And yet the door creaked open, the darkness beyond bleeding into my already shadowed room.

I made myself as small as possible, the blanket of night cloaking me enough to fool a drunk—most in this wretched place were—but if they stepped inside if they came closer...

A head popped through the gap.

Gold hair caught the dim light.

My breath punched from my lungs. "Morrigan."

I tumbled out of bed, my dagger forgotten as I all but threw myself at her. She caught me effortlessly, her arms wrapping tight around my waist, solid and real, her familiar scent washing over me.

"Oh, I've missed you," she murmured, holding me as if she'd been gone for years rather than two unbearable weeks.

I pulled back just enough to take her in, my hands framing her face, my eyes darting over her features, searching for any sign of injury. My stomach knotted at the gauze wrapped around her waist, but otherwise, she seemed unharmed.

"I thought you got out safe?" I whispered.

She smirked. "Forgot some things."

There was something reckless in her eyes, something sharp and unyielding.

My stomach tightened further. "Mor—"

"I'm getting you out of here."

Her grin was edged with mischief, with certainty.

—

I had heard the rumors—the hushed whispers exchanged between patrons in dimly lit taverns, drunken murmurs of a secret city our High Lord kept hidden from the rest of us. A place untouched by the cruelty of the Hewn City, a myth spun to keep fools hopeful.

I never believed a word of it.

But Velaris was real.

"The City of Starlight," Morrigan had said, her voice breathless with something I hadn't seen in her since we were reckless, ignorant children. She'd smiled then—wild, unguarded. And I had known, in that moment, that every whispered legend had been true.

The city thrived even in the late hour. Laughter and music curled through the streets, golden lights casting soft glows against dark stone. I had never dreamed a place like this could exist, not outside of bedtime stories and half-formed wishes. And yet, Mor guided me through its winding paths as if it were the most natural thing in the world, showing me pieces of the Night Court I had never dared to imagine.

Until, finally, she led me to a small cabin at the edge of a quiet clearing.

Warm light spilled from its windows, shadows dancing against the wood as the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter leaked into the night. It was a thrilling sound—carefree, safe.

Mor stepped onto the porch, her fingers curling around my wrist as she turned back to me with a smirk. "I've been living here for the past few weeks," she hummed, as if it were no great thing. "And I decided I missed my roommate."

Her words barely registered over the clatter of voices inside. I could hear the easy teasing, the playful shouts.

I hesitated.

"It's Rhysand's cabin, but—"

"The High Lord's?" I whirled on her, my stomach clenching.

Mor blinked, as if I'd said something absurd. "He's my cousin, you know?"

I did know that. Of course I did. But the knowledge didn't stop the shiver that traced my spine.

I had seen Rhysand twice in my life—twice was enough.

Both times, I had been convinced I would die right there on the spot, crushed beneath the weight of his power. It exuded from him like a second set of wings, dark and monstrous. The ground itself seemed to quake beneath his steps. To say he was powerful was an insult to the very meaning of the word. He was terror incarnate, the nightmare that lived in the dark corners of every court.

I had heard the stories—of him reaching into minds and shattering them from the inside out, twisting their own fears into weapons sharper than any blade. He did not need to lift a hand to kill.

My throat went dry. "He's not in there, is he?"

The words were barely a whisper, but Mor only shrugged, far too casual. "Sure he is."

I nearly choked. What?

"Mor—"

She didn't give me a chance to protest.

Her fingers curled around mine, firm and unwavering, and before I could think to dig in my heels, she had pulled me forward—up the steps, through the doorway, past the foyer—until I was standing in the heart of the house.

The moment we entered, the conversation stopped.

Four sets of eyes locked onto me.

Hazel. Silver.

And then—

A violet gaze, piercing and unrelenting, dilated with something unreadable.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Rhysand.

The High Lord of Night. The male who could level entire armies with a flick of his wrist, who could peel apart minds like flower petals and leave nothing behind. The nightmare whispered about in every corner of the Hewn City.

And he was staring at me.

His lips parted slightly, as if words had caught in his throat.

Mor, of course, was entirely unaffected. "Gentlemen," she said, grinning as she strode deeper into the sitting room. "And Amren."

The silver-eyed female merely flicked a gaze over Mor before cutting straight to me, a sharp, assessing glance that made my stomach twist.

I was still trying to school my expression into something other than imminent death panic when Mor gave my wrist a final squeeze and released me.

"I'd like you all to meet—"

"She's my mate."

Silence.

Utter, perfect silence.

Then—

A choked sound came from the male lounging in an armchair, wings draped lazily over its sides. He had dark hair, hazel eyes gleaming with delight, and an unmistakable aura of shit-eating amusement. That one must be Cassian.

Next to him, another male, shadows curled at his feet like living things, merely blinked—slowly, deliberately—before glancing at Rhys and murmuring, "That was subtle." And there's Azriel.

Rhys, for all his legendary cunning, looked like he wanted to launch himself into the Sidra.

"Mate?" I rasped, my stomach flipping over itself.

No. No, surely not. That was—impossible. I would've felt something.

Or have I all along?

"You must forgive our dear High Lord," Amren drawled, sipping from a glass of something dark. "He usually has more tact when announcing these things."

Rhys finally seemed to snap back into his body, straightening his spine with something like composed horror.

"What I meant to say," he amended, his voice dropping into something far smoother, far silkier—too smooth as if he were compensating, "is that it's a pleasure to meet you."

Cassian snorted. "You just said she was your mate."

"Yes, thank you, Cassian."

Azriel's lips twitched. "I think she got the message."

My head was spinning, my throat tight. But my body had stilled—not from fear, exactly, but from something else. Something coiling in my chest, something aware.

Rhys's gaze flicked to mine, and his expression softened instantly, all humor melting into something devastatingly gentle.

"It's late. You must be exhausted." His voice had dipped, his usual charm tempered with something achingly sincere. "Let me get you something to eat. Or drink. Or—are you warm enough? I can get you a blanket—"

Cassian was shaking with silent laughter. Azriel merely watched, like he was filing this away for later use.

Amren, however, had no such patience. "Oh, for Cauldron's sake," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "She's not a wounded animal, Rhysand, stop circling her like a mother hen."

"I just want her to be comfortable," he argued, flashing her a glare before turning back to me with something so devastatingly earnest that I nearly forgot who he was. What he was.

He liked me.

No—he wanted me to like him.

Rhysand, the most powerful High Lord in history, was tripping over himself to win my favor.

And somehow, that was more terrifying than any of the rumors I'd ever heard.

—

I wasn't entirely sure how I ended up sitting on a plush couch in the middle of the High Lord's cabin, wrapped in a ridiculously soft blanket that I didn't remember agreeing to. A cup of tea—also not requested—was placed carefully in my hands, steam curling in the dim candlelight.

Rhysand hovered nearby.

And I meant hovered.

He was standing at an awkward, not-quite-close, not-quite-far distance, shifting slightly as if debating whether he should sit or stand or vanish into the floor. His normally easy, fluid grace had been utterly abandoned, leaving him looking... well. Uncertain.

Cassian, sprawled in the armchair across from me, was barely keeping it together. His wings twitched every few seconds, his lips pressed tightly as if physically holding in his laughter.

Azriel, seated beside him, was far more composed—but the slight upward tilt of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

I took a sip of my tea, trying to make sense of all this.

The High Lord of the Night Court—the terror of the Hewn City, the most powerful male in existence—had declared me his mate. And then proceeded to fall apart before my very eyes.

I was still trying to process it when Rhys spoke.

"Would you like more pillows?"

I blinked. "What?"

His violet eyes were very, very wide. "You look like you could use more pillows."

Cassian made a strangled noise.

Azriel coughed into his fist.

"I—I'm fine," I said slowly, watching as Rhys's shoulders sagged in relief.

Too fast. All of this was happening too fast, I couldn't keep up.

"Are you sure? Because I can get more."

Cassian let out a wheezing breath, eyes shining with unrestrained delight. "Yes, Rhys. More pillows. That's definitely what she needs."

Rhys shot him a withering glare before turning back to me, smoothing his expression into something intended to be charming, but coming across as deeply, deeply desperate.

"Or food!" he blurted. "Have you eaten? I can make you something. Or, well, I can't make you something, but I can get someone to—"

"She has tea, Rhys," Amren cut in dryly. "You shoved it into her hands two minutes ago."

"I did not shove—"

"You definitely shoved," Cassian confirmed, barely containing his cackle. "I thought you were going to spill boiling tea all over your mate."

I flinch slightly at the term as Rhys shoots back with, "I was being thoughtful."

Azriel hummed, taking a slow sip of his own drink, the amber color telling me it was something much stronger than tea. "Is that what we're calling it?"

I had absolutely no idea what to do with any of this.

Rhysand—the charmer, the schemer, the legend—was unraveling at the seams in front of me.

Because of me.

"I can make my own food," I finally said, mostly just to say something.

Rhys visibly straightened. "Of course! Yes, I knew that. I just—" He ran a hand through his hair, his usual ease nowhere to be found. "I want you to feel at home."

Cassian grinned. "I think she'd feel more at home if you stopped looming over her like a lovesick bat."

Rhys's glare could have melted stone.

Azriel just leaned back in his chair, shadows curling lazily around his shoulders. "I don't think I've ever seen you like this," he mused.

Rhys turned his attention back to me, clearly trying to regain some dignity. He attempted one of his infamous smirks. "You must forgive them. They're not used to seeing me flustered."

Cassian clapped a hand to his chest, eyes sparkling. "Oh, it's a gift, truly."

Azriel nodded solemnly. "We should savor this moment."

Rhys looked seconds away from throttling them both.

I just stared at him, still gripping the cup of tea like it was the only solid thing in the world. "Are you okay?" I asked before I could stop myself.

His breath caught.

And for a moment, the amusement, the chaos—it all faded. His eyes softened, something raw flickering behind them.

"I'm fine," he said, voice lower now, steadier. "I just... I wasn't expecting this."

Neither was I. But still, something shifted in my chest at the way he looked at me—like I was something precious.

I wasn't ready to name that feeling.

But for the first time since I'd arrived, I didn't feel like running.

Slowly—mercifully—Rhys seemed to remember how to function again.

He settled into the chair across from me, still watching me with those impossibly violet eyes, but at least he wasn't hovering like I might vanish if he so much as blinked.

Not that he'd relaxed entirely.

No, because the moment I so much as shifted—adjusting the blanket, setting my tea down—he twitched as if preparing to leap to his feet and fix something.

If I asked for anything, I had no doubt he'd be up and fetching it before I could even finish the sentence.

But at least he was sitting.

Amren, on the other hand, was done with the entire situation.

With a long-suffering sigh, she stood and stretched. "Alright. That's enough of this."

Cassian perked up. "Of what?"

She shot him a withering look. "The two of you sitting here, watching this disaster unfold like it's a theatrical event."

Cassian grinned, utterly unrepentant. "Oh, but it is."

Azriel just sipped his whiskey, but the small smirk on his lips said everything.

Amren turned her glare to them both, then pointed at the door. "Out."

Cassian gaped. "But—"

"Out," she repeated, already making her way toward him.

Cassian barely had time to dodge before she grabbed his arm, yanking him up with surprising strength for someone so small. "Azriel, move," she barked.

Azriel, for all his shadows and lethal grace, barely managed to stifle a chuckle before obeying.

Rhys, looking very much like a male clinging to the last shred of his dignity, just sighed. "Amren, I hardly think—"

"Oh, please." She shot him a knowing look. "You want them gone."

Rhys opened his mouth. Closed it. Then glanced—too quickly—at me.

Cassian cackled. "Oh, this is so good."

"I hate all of you," Rhys muttered.

Cassian just grinned, throwing an arm over Azriel's shoulder as Amren shoved them both toward the door. "Love you too, brother!"

The door shut behind them then silence settled.

I exhaled slowly, my mind still spinning from all of this—this place, these people, Rhysand, sitting before me and looking as though he didn't quite know what to do with himself.

Mor, still seated beside me, gave a soft, reassuring smile. "Ignore them," she said. "They're menaces, but they mean well."

I nodded, unsure what to say.

She nudged me gently. "You doing okay?"

I hesitated.

Then, quietly, "I think so."

Mor's smile warmed. "Good." She stood, stretching. "I'm just down the hall if you need anything, okay?"

I nodded again. "Thanks, Mor."

She winked. "Get some rest."

And then, just like that, I was alone. With Rhysand.

Who, despite his best attempts to seem relaxed, looked about two seconds away from combusting.

The silence stretched for a beat too long before Rhys cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "So," he started, voice smoother now, steadier, "what do you think of Velaris?"

I exhaled, my grip loosening on the blanket around my shoulders as I glanced toward the window. The city lights still twinkled beyond the glass, mirroring the stars above.

"It's..." I searched for the right word. Magnificent."

His lips curved. "It is." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Not what you expected?"

A soft huff of breath left me. "In all honesty, I didn't even expect it to be real."

Rhys chuckled, low and warm. "Most don't."

I looked back at him. "How long has it been hidden?"

His expression turned thoughtful. "Since the war." His gaze flickered to the window, a distant look in his eyes. "My family—my court—has fought to protect it for centuries. It's the one place in all of Prythian untouched by war, by cruelty." He met my gaze again, and this time, there was something softer there. "Now it's yours, too."

Something shifted in my chest at that. The way he said it like I belonged here. I swallowed. "And the court?"

His smile returned, easy and knowing. "You've already met the worst of them."

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "I don't believe that."

"Oh, you should." He smirked. "Cassian and Azriel? Winged buffoons. Mor? Chaos incarnate." He placed a hand on his chest, feigning solemnity. "And me? Well, the stories you've heard don't paint me in the best light, do they?"

A teasing edge now, that sharp, clever humor creeping into his voice.

I tilted my head. "No, they don't."

He grinned, but it softened as he glanced back outside. "You'll see for yourself, though." He hesitated, then added, "You'll be here for Starfall."

"Starfall?"

His eyes lit up, and suddenly, it was as if the shadows in the room no longer existed.

"You've never heard of it?"

I shook my head.

Rhys leaned closer, his voice dropping to something conspiratorial, enticing. "Once a year, the sky does something extraordinary."

I raised a brow, peering out the large arched window to look at the galaxy of stars just outside. "More extraordinary than usual?"

A chuckle. "Much more." He sat back again, watching me with a quiet sort of delight, as if he already knew I'd love it. "The stars don't just shine that night. They fall."

I blinked. "They fall?"

"Mmm." He traced a circle on the arm of his chair. "Not like shooting stars—though it looks similar. The souls of long-lost beings drift across the sky, shimmering trails left in their wake. It's..." He trailed off, searching for the word.

"Magnificent?" I supplied, unable to help the small smile tugging at my lips.

Rhys gave a slow, approving nod. "Very."

Something warm settled in my chest. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

And then, finally, I allowed myself to really look at him.

Not the High Lord. Not the nightmare. Just Rhysand.

And gods, he was handsome.

The kind of handsome that made the room feel smaller, the air feel warmer. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, those impossibly violet eyes that seemed to catch every flicker of candlelight. And the way he looked at me—like I was something precious. Like he already knew me, in some deep, unspoken way.

I cleared my throat, shoving away the thought. "It sounds magical."

He grinned, and for the first time, it wasn't the grin of a High Lord, or a male who held the power of nightmares in his hands.

It was just a smile. For me.

A slight yawn slipped from me, Rhys was instantly moving.

"Mother above, I've kept you up too late—" He was already leading me toward the hall, his steps brisk, his hands half-lifted as if he wanted to guide me but thought better of it.

I barely had time to keep up as he strode toward a door across from Mor's, gesturing to it like it was some grand reveal. "This is yours—of course, if you don't like it, we can find you another room, or a different house entirely, or—"

"Rhys—"

"I really should have let you rest earlier, I can be insufferable when I ramble, and—"

"Rhys."

"I hope you find everything comfortable, but if you need anything—extra pillows, a softer mattress, a different view—"

I pressed my palm to his chest. He froze.

His breath hitched, just barely—but I felt it beneath my hand, the sharp inhale, the slight stutter of his heartbeat.

His eyes locked onto mine, the violet darkening, blazing.

I had only meant to stop his spiraling apologies, but now... Now the air between us was thick with tension.

Something unseen curled and tightened, coiling like a living thing beneath my skin.

Rhys exhaled sharply through his nose. Slowly—reverently—his hand lifted, covering mine where it lay over his chest. His fingers curled just enough to hold me there, as if... as if he couldn't bear to let go.

Something between us shifted and I didn't have time to decide if it was for the better or not.

A pull, deep in my ribs. An ache that hadn't been there before.

Rhys went completely still.

Like he was waging some great internal war, fighting against a force that neither of us had yet spoken aloud. But I felt it.

The way his fingers tightened just slightly over mine. The way his lips parted like he was about to say something, only to think better of it.

The way his eyes—those star-flecked, devastatingly beautiful eyes—searched mine like they held the answer to something he'd been waiting for.

I should have stepped back.

I should have moved.

Instead, I stood there, heart pounding, fingers twitching against the soft fabric of his tunic.

Rhys swallowed, his throat working around the motion, but he said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood there, his chest rising and falling beneath my palm, his fingers flexing ever so slightly over mine like he was grounding himself—like he needed to hold on. I knew I should step back.

We had only just met.

Yet that fact seemed irrelevant, insignificant compared to the weight of the moment curling between us, thick as smoke.

Because I could feel it—something pulling me toward him, that bond deeper than attraction, sharper than longing. It was in the way his breath came uneven, in the way his gaze dropped, just briefly, to my lips before snapping back up to my eyes, a flicker of something raw, something wanting, breaking through his carefully placed walls.

His lips parted, like he might say something. Like he might stop this before it went too far.

I didn't let him. Didn't give myself the chance to second-guess, to think, to reason.

I surged forward.

Rhys barely had time to exhale before my lips met his. Soft. That was my first thought—how soft his lips were, warm and parting against mine as if in stunned surrender.

And then he was kissing me back.

A sharp inhale, his hand sliding up my wrist, curling around it like he couldn't quite believe this was happening—but wouldn't dare let go, either.

His other hand found my waist, light, hesitant, his fingers pressing in just enough to ground me, to anchor us both in the storm of whatever this was.

It wasn't desperate. It wasn't hurried. It was slow, tentative, a gentle exploration.

His nose brushed mine as he tilted his head, his lips parting wider, and I felt the way he breathed me in—like I was something to be savored, something he hadn't known he was starving for until now.

A small sound left me—something between a sigh and a whimper—and Rhys shuddered, his grip tightening ever so slightly, his fingertips pressing into my skin like he needed to remind himself this was real.

We lingered there, caught in something we didn't have a name for, something neither of us had expected but couldn't seem to pull away from.

His thumb brushed along my wrist, slow, reverent, as our lips moved together in a rhythm that felt achingly natural.

Like we had done this a thousand times before. Like we would do it a thousand times more.

When we finally parted, it was only enough to breathe, our foreheads pressing together, breaths mingling.

Rhys's fingers flexed at my waist.

"I—" His voice was hoarse, rough with something unspoken. He swallowed. "We should stop."

I exhaled shakily, my hands still fisting the fabric of his tunic.

"We should," I admitted.

His thumb traced slow, lazy circles along my wrist, like he was memorizing the shape of me, the feel of me.

And then, softer—softer than I'd ever heard anyone speak my name—

"But I don't want to."

I barely had time to whisper, "Neither do I," before he kissed me again.

His lips were still on mine, still moving, still taking, even as he rasped against my mouth, "We can't."

But he didn't stop. Didn't pull away.

If anything, his hands tightened at my waist, fingers pressing into my skin like he was anchoring himself—like he was fighting a losing battle against whatever force was unraveling between us.

I gasped as his tongue slid against mine, slow and thorough, like he was trying to memorize me, like he was desperate to learn every piece of me with nothing more than his lips, his hands, his breath.

"Rhys," I whispered, not knowing if it was meant to be a plea or a warning.

He groaned, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath coming out in short, uneven pants.

"I want to know you," he said, his voice so raw, so gutted that it sent a shiver down my spine.

Then his lips were on mine again, harder, deeper, like he was proving it, like he needed me to believe him.

"I want to know everything," he murmured against my mouth, between kisses that left me gasping, left me trembling, my fingers still tangled in his hair. Another kiss, this one rougher, hungrier. "Everything."

I whimpered against his lips, barely able to think, barely able to breathe with the way he was consuming me, the way his words were carving themselves into my ribs.

He groaned, like the sound was being ripped from him. "I—" He shuddered. "Tell me to stop."

I froze beneath him, blinking up at him, my head spinning, my lips swollen from his kisses.

He swallowed hard, his breathing uneven, his hands flexing at my sides.

"Tell me to stop," he repeated, voice ragged, "because I don't think I can on my own."

His words hung between us, raw and trembling, his breath fanning against my lips. I could still taste him, still feel the imprint of his hands at my sides, as if he had branded himself into my very skin. My heart pounded against my ribs, my body warring between the pull of the bond and the sliver of hesitation curling in my chest.

I slipped my hands from his hair, brushing my fingers along his jaw, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. "Rhys," I whispered, my voice barely a breath.

His eyes, dark and blazing with emotion, searched mine. I saw the restraint there, the war he was fighting within himself, the way his hands trembled against my sides.

I swallowed, forcing myself to find the words through the haze of want clouding my mind. "I'll accept the bond," I murmured. His breath hitched, his entire body going utterly still. "I just need some time."

A heartbeat passed. Then another. And then—he exhaled, his forehead pressing against mine, his entire frame shuddering. His hands skimmed up my sides, gentle now, reverent, like he was memorizing every inch of me before letting go.

"You could take centuries," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple, featherlight. "Beyond that, if you wanted. I'd wait for you, always."

Something in my chest ached, something too big to name. I closed my eyes, breathing him in, the warmth of him, the endless patience laced in every word.

I tilted my head up, pressing the softest of kisses against his lips—nothing like the desperate, fevered ones from before. Just a promise. Just a thank you.

His hands lingered on my waist, like he wasn't quite ready to let go, but he didn't stop me as I pulled away. A small smile tugged at my lips. "Goodnight, Rhys."

His eyes softened, something almost wistful in them. "Goodnight, my love."

With a final glance, I turned and slipped into my room, closing the door behind me. And even then, I could still feel him—like a shadow, like a promise—waiting.

Comment or reblog with a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @hufflepuff-pa55 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-angst @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @ivy-34 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @aurorab99 @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @mmg777 @andreperez11 @thatacotargirl @123345566 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna @imyherondale @salvawhxres @bookishbabyyyy @anuttellaa @breadsticks2004 @azriels-human @mamita-vera @demetercabingreen-thumb @lorosette @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tothestarsandwhateverend @ahaha0246 @mellowmusings @mythicalcookie

[moiraimyths]

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) | Official Trailer

The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) is a lore-rich and choice-driven historical fantasy visual novel inspired by Irish mythology and Celtic folklore. Play as a tenant farmer from mid-19th century Ireland, whose path becomes inexplicably entwined in fairy affairs after getting robbed by the roadside and lured into the mythic and war-torn world of Tír na nÓg: A once unified land, now divided into the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. Will you escape and return home with your stolen belongings? Or does fate have something else in mind?

🍃 STEAM 🍂 ITCH.IO 🍃PATREON 🍂DISCORD 🍃

Eager to play? Certain route content is available NOW in early access on Steam and Itch.io! For more information, click below👇

Meet the Cast

Facts & Questions: The Game

🍃 The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) is a Kickstarter-funded project currently in development. Due to the scope of the story, we will be releasing it serially over several years to Steam and Itch.io, and discounting it while in early access. The earlier it's bought, the cheaper it will be overall, and you'll only need to buy the game once!

🍂 Not all routes are currently available! As of Nov. 1, 2024, you can play half of Shae and Maeve's routes; both approximately 50k words. If you're not sure about paying for an unfinished game, feel free to check out our free demo first. It consists of Vol. 1, Book of the Traveller (the pre-route content). Differences between the demo's Vol. 1 and the paid game's Vol. 1 are marginal following our August 1, 2024 re-release of the demo.

🍃 The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) has a recommended reading order (Vol. 1, then 2, then 3, etc.), which will correspond to the release order of the routes. For more information on our reasoning behind this, click here.

🍂 Due to its setting, The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe) will occasionally feature instances of characters speaking in Gaeilge, i.e. the Irish language. All instances of Gaeilge are linked to an internal translation tool, which is voiced by Nigel McKeon, a Gaeilgeoir.

🍃 The main character is yours to shape. At minimum, you must choose a nickname, pronouns, and one of four default appearances, the last of which can be your own artwork (instructions are included in the game's files). You may also choose to discard the True Name…

🍂 All routes, both current and upcoming, will have both romantic and platonic choice options. If you're uninterested in romance, feel free to make friends instead! No matter the nature of your relationship, you will still be able to reach the good end. (Want to learn more? Refer to this post!)

🍃 Our cast consists of two men, two women, and two non-binary characters. All are romancable no matter the MC, but some characters are asexual or on the aromantic spectrum, which may impact aspects of their romances.

🍂 If you are a Mac user and are having issues launching the game via the Itch direct download, refer to this guide for troubleshooting before sending us an ask. We strongly recommend purchasing the game through Steam instead of Itch if you are a Mac user; it is the best way to avoid issues with launching the game.

🍃 NDM is very intentionally set just prior to the onset of the Great Famine, which is both thematically and textually relevant to the leftist, anti-imperialist story we're aiming to tell. If you would like more insight into this, refer to this post.

🐎 There are secrets to be found in this game, with more yet to come. Prepare yourself for a lot of horse related shenanigans. 🐎

Facts & Questions: The Company

🧵 Moirai Myths is a five-person company based out of Canada. The core devs/founders go by Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. All writing and programming are done by this collective, i.e. the Fates.

🪡 Moirai Myths has a two person in-house artist team consisting of Kazane, our Character/UI Designer, and Melinoe, our Environmental Designer. In addition to them, though, we have had a number of guest artists assist us with the creation of sprites, CGs, and an assortment of other materials. If you'd like to meet them, check out our about page on our website!

✂️ Moirai Myths stands with the people of Palestine 🇵🇸

Disclaimer: This description will be updated periodically. If you're reading this in a reblog, you may want to check our current pinned post for potential changes.

[physalian]

Having myths and lore-within-lore in your worldbuilding

I mentioned this elsewhere but having lore within your lore that the narrative never reveals whether or not it’s true is some delicious worldbuilding that I live for.

It’s the opposite of “characters in a fantasy setting are inexplicably extremely knowledgeable about politics and history that does not concern them to inform the clueless protagonist”.

As with fairytales and myths in real life, having myths within your world, and which groups believe in them, can say a lot about their perspective on their world and how they see themselves in relation to others, the gods, the earth, etc.

Even better is when there’s multiple refuted versions of the same myth and which characters believe which version also speaks to their personality, and anything they probably would never admit about themselves otherwise.

You can reveal which myths are true, but I think it’s more fun to leave it unknown and let both the characters and the audience speculate.

Example:

I write about fantasy vampires, and my deuteragonist tells the protagonist ~allegedly~ where they came from. In my universe, vampires have a signature scent, as unique as their voice, and it’s always from the land. Soil, petrichor, flowers, wheat, cut grass, herbs, spices, nectars, fruits, etc.

Why? Nobody knows but…

“Allegedly, the first vampire was a person wrongfully murdered for the death of their child. Brought back by their grief to seek justice on the true killer. So we are all reborn from the earth and the flowers that were buried with them.” … “Other versions say it’s the child who came back to guide their anguished parent and others say it was the secret killer cursed by the gods to live forever with their guilt, and the shroud of all their unmarked graves.”

Which is the real reason? Idk. It doesn’t matter. Which version is believed by my characters—and which versions were propagated by those who hate vampires—speaks volumes.

Are vampires ruthless serial killers compelled to kill every chance they get, or are they just people, trapped by immortality while all they’ve ever known and cared about inevitably ages and dies around them?

[witchescollection]

in criticism of #witchblr being predominantly beginner guides (of which i am a little guilty), here's a little thread of some more advanced witchcraft ideas i've picked up.

if you can't access any of these links lmk!

please reblog with your own! and add links or book recs if you have any.

the passage of time

learn chronokinesis (x)

different philosophical theories of time (x)

pagan ideas of time (x) and nature's time (x)

the spirituality of time (x)

critical understandings of myth

defining myth (x)

modern constructions of myth (x)

what happened to myth? (x)

modern media myth (x)

modern myths and design (x)

american myth and nationalism (x)

british myth and nationalism (x)

european non-classical myth (x)

criticisms of paganism

*these are a collection of criticisms that i found interesting, and worth reflecting on. contrary to what tumblr thinks, there are negatives for (neo)paganism, and blind spots. being aware of them is useful.

is it giving ancient pagans a bad name? (x)

is it a nature religion? (x)

is it theist? (x)

does it allow space for grooming and sexualisation? (x) *note, original essay is no longer accessible, but i think the comments do a decent job explaining.

is it authentic? (x)

is there a secret global neo-pagan movement? (x) *note, probably not, but this article still offers some interesting criticisms despite being a bit... kooky?

what even is paganism? (x)

[ixloom819]

Self-Aware LADS Nicknames

Rafayel - my moon (the one that made me think of this)

The moon is what controls the push and pull of the tides. It's something that the sea can never reach, but relies upon. Rafayel sees you just like that - a force essential, yet always out of reach. He also sees it as a metaphor for your relationship - every time you pull away from the game, he has the freedom to call you to and reach out; but when you push your way towards him, his script and coding force him to play the perfect game character.

Xavier - my North Star

Now, seeing as he is an alien prince, I doubt he gives much significance to our North Star on Earth, but I like to think any civilization has a North Star in the sense of navigation, even when their technology removes the need for one. Maybe Xavier had a version of the North Star when he was drifting in space. Regardless, the North Star is a constant that remains the same even when the world feels like it's in chaos, and that's what you are to him. He knows you'll always be around and watching, no matter what happens to him.

Sylus - my Tantalus

I think Sylus is a big lover of myths, and this would be one that resonates with him. Sylus is a man who's used to getting what he wants. Even in the case of MC where he shows restraint, he still keeps an eye on her and could theoretically do with her what he wanted. But that isn't an option with you. You're the fruit that's just out of reach, the water that dips just below his cupped hand. You're separated by reality, and trust me, he's working on it. But for now, you're something he sees and craves, but cannot touch.

Zayne - my goddess

Alright, hear me out on this one. I've seen a lot of fans say that Zayne's love would be worshipful, and in fics where the reader is the Foreseer, that's taken quite literal. So when Zayne meets a being with awareness akin to, if not above, Astra's, who also exists on a plane that can't be reached, that would hint at divinity. You weren't an all-powerful or all-knowing god, but it's not like that's required to be one. Maybe he starts saying it ironically, but then he starts to mean it. You're his goddess, a kind one who sees him and can't be hurt by him. He wants to be your one devoted follower, your worshipper. And maybe, he keeps a secret prayer in his heart that he can one day meet his goddess in person.

Caleb - my ATC

At first, Caleb doesn't trust you - it seems like you're possessing his best friend after all. But it seems like you really just want to be friends with him, and you even give him advice on how to help his relationship with MC. He starts calling you that ironically, to show how you seem to direct his movements to where he needs to go. But after a while, he finds his focus shifting from MC to you. He wants to know about you, get to know you, become someone special to you. You care about him even with his 'red flags'. Can't you guide him home to you?

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

📊 How to Use Tropes Without Turning Your Story into a YA Checklist

You can tell when a book was written by vibes and TVTropes alone.

It’s got: ☑️ the reluctant chosen one ☑️ the love triangle ☑️ the mysterious brooding boy™ ☑️ the sassy best friend ☑️ the dead parents ☑️ the villain with daddy issues ☑️ the scene where someone says “you don’t know what I’m capable of” and walks away dramatically

And like… that’s fine.

Tropes are tools. But here’s the thing: they are starting points, not story goals.

If your plot reads like it was drafted by a checklist in a Pinterest caption, it might be time to recalibrate. Here's how to actually use tropes without turning your book into a YA Mad Libs generator:

─────── ✦ ───────

🧩 Tropes Are Patterns--Not Presets

A trope is a pattern, not a requirement. It’s not a law. It’s not a plug-and-play feature. And it’s definitely not your plot.

The “enemies-to-lovers” arc? That’s a container. What you put inside it, that’s where the originality lives.

The goal isn’t to avoid tropes. It’s to do something interesting with them.

→ Why are they enemies? → What does the “love” cost them? → What happens if they fail to become lovers?

Tropes don’t carry the story. The conflict does.

─────── ✦ ───────

⚔️ Complicate the Familiar

Here’s a trick: if a trope feels too easy, break it in half.

Examples: → “Reluctant chosen one” → okay, but what if they wanted it, and then hated it once they got it? → “The mentor dies” → cool, but what if the mentor fakes their death to manipulate the protagonist? → “Sassy best friend” → no. Make them real. Give them pain. Give them depth. No more walking punchlines.

Tropes are scaffolding, not shortcuts. Add weight. Add doubt. Add betrayal.

─────── ✦ ───────

🕳️ Interrogate Why You’re Using It

Ask yourself: → Do I love this trope or do I feel like I have to include it? → Am I doing this because I’ve seen it done… or because it serves my story? → Is this trope the only interesting thing about this scene?

If your answer is “because that’s what YA stories do,” delete it. Go deeper.

─────── ✦ ───────

💔 Tropes Aren’t Substitutes for Character Arcs

You can’t use “grumpy x sunshine” and call it development. Tropes are flavors, not meals.

Give us: → Choices with consequences. → Conflicting values. → Character growth that costs something.

Otherwise? Your grumpy guy is just a Pinterest moodboard with a pulse.

─────── ✦ ───────

🧨 Use Reader Expectations Against Them

You want to use a trope and not make it predictable? Weaponize it.

Example: → Start with a love triangle. Let the MC fall hard. Then have both love interests realize they’re in love with each other. → Use the “chosen one” trope… but make it about dismantling that myth entirely. → Introduce the “villain redemption arc” and let them choose to stay bad because it makes more sense for them.

Set up the pattern. Then snap it in half. That’s how you surprise a jaded reader.

─────── ✦ ───────

Final thoughts from your local trope goblin:

→ Tropes aren’t the problem. It’s treating them like a checklist instead of a narrative engine. → A good trope doesn’t make your story good. How you twist it does. → If a story reads like it was built from Tumblr quotes and nothing else—it’s gonna flop.

So go ahead. Use the trope. Then ruin it. Make it weird. Make it hurt. Make it yours.

—rin t. // story mechanic. trope thief. YA bingo card burner. // thewriteadviceforwriters

Sometimes the problem isn’t your plot. It’s your first 5 pages. Fix it here → 🖤 Free eBook: 5 Opening Pages Mistakes to Stop Making:

🕯️ download the pack & write something cursed:

[calebsdog]

Caleb is like a broken mirror. There are so many pieces to him, so many different shapes of shattered glass. A puzzle box filled with thousands of pieces. Only your hands decide how the pieces fit together.

Limited Myth Caleb has a softer, guiding personality. Calm, encouraging, bright. That was what you thought of him. So that was what Caleb worked himself to be. Your words that day molded him like clay. You helped him find Caleb and leave X-02 behind in the lab.

Old days Caleb was the reliable, annoying, larger than life gege. He's so charming, keeping the banter alive between the both of you. He makes sure you smile in his presence as often as your sore cheeks allow. He makes sure you know he loves you. The only thing he keeps secret is the hue of his love.

Colonel Caleb thinks he knows what Mc needs. A quiet protector in the shadows. Watching you from a distance, never allowing you to share his burden. He's not even afraid of death. The Colonel operates like a machine. Loving you so deeply, so quietly, from so far away. He was a cold man now. But not even the toring chip could take away his feelings for you.

You were his core, from the same strands of DNA. The filth of EVER could try all they want to turn him against you. Never will he become an obstacle in your path. The universe itself could not make him a weapon pitted against you.

Keeping you safe was the right thing. His life started from the moment that small, trembling girl reached for his hand. His eyes only began to see color the moment you first smiled.

His heart aches at the loss of your bond. Usually, he's a huge fan of sour foods. But his tongue is coated with a bitter flavor he can't wash out as he lets you believe he's dead.

Please, move on. Stop picking at the burns he couldn't protect you from that day. Don't stay so late at work that Jenna forces you to take a day off. Quit staring at yourself in the mirror like you would prefer it be your body rotting in a grave.

Don't you understand? He never would have let that happen. He did this for you not because it was his responsibility. Caleb did this for you because it was his honor. Gege should be the one to die in your place. Take his freedom a thousand times over. Clip his wings, let him crash land onto rocky ground. As long as you never harm a hair on her head.

Please, never forget him. Stop reaching out to people, trying to make new connections in hopes of moving on. Quit trying to find someone to replace the hole left in your heart. Nobody loves you like he loves you. They aren't worth your time. Even Caleb isn't.

Forget him. Stop letting him be the cause of your tears. Remember how he used to dry your eyes. Your gege would have wanted you to learn to be happy again.

Forget him not. Don't move on from him. Not when he will never be strong enough to move on from you. Yearn for him during lonely nights like he yearns for you. Take care of yourself because you still love him, not because you want to carry on without him.

Caleb will become anything at all. Calm, bright, encouraging. Caleb. Ruthless, feared, one to be respected. A man without a name, only a title.

For his one and only.

[legionofmyth]

Mage: The Ascension by White Wolf Publishing

🌌 Awaken your inner mage with Mage: The Ascension by White Wolf Publishing! ✨ Dive into a world where you shape reality, bend the laws of magic, and uncover ancient mysteries. Embrace your destiny and join the magical struggle! #MageTheAscension #RPG #TabletopGaming #Magic #WorldOfDarkness 🔗 [Link to your overview or article]

Mage: The Ascension by White Wolf Publishing What is it? Mage: The Ascension – 1st Edition Mage: The Ascension 2nd Edition Mage: The Ascension, published by White Wolf Publishing, Inc., is a tabletop role-playing game set in the World of Darkness universe. Players assume the roles of mages, individuals awakened to the hidden truths of reality and capable of wielding powerful magic. Set against a…

[wondeurwall]

AUTHOR'S NOTE. based on the poll: nsfw that won by a landslide, as expected AKSNDJSKb!!! i'll post the sfw soon. i'm currently sitting on 9k with this fic & i don't think i'm close to being done yet omg 😵‍💫 not sure how many more previews i'll post of it – i'll play by ear. or, if it's something y'all still would like, then i'll be more than happy to do it, but i think they'll be much shorter going forward!! 💕💕

AND good luck to anyone pulling for zayne's banner & for anyone trying the new oracle of stars event... i want to try pulling for rafayel's, at the very least, since they all look related to the myths 😭 for the lore, I'LL BE BROKE!!!

TAGS/WARNINGS: 🔞 mdni, fem!reader, porn with plot because i said so, cunnilingus

He drops to his knees, keeps his arms slung over your legs, trapping you at the edge of the bed. His face is in front of your pussy, the heat of his breath makes you quiver.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” he says.

And, you do exactly that. Rafayel’s gaze has the full moon in there, the light unblinking and brilliant, like a parallel of the sun during the day. It dares you to flinch the longer you look. But, you keep staring, find that it doesn’t hurt and, instead, the light feels familiar. 

You hear the waves, tides along the shore and grains of sand being pulled into the water. It happens briefly. Holding your breath, the salt of the sea comes to you like it does in your dreams, a little more vivid each time you fall asleep. 

The same images of him fill your vision. Why?

You release the breath, then blink, feeling the heaviness in your chest and the lump in your throat again. It’s a back-and-forth reel of him and Rafayel, different realities converging to a single point in time – and, your lips are trembling. With the heat of Rafayel’s body seeping into you and the recollection of the sea, the moment tastes and sounds like a memory.

No. It’s more than that. 

You look at Rafayel, and everything feels less like a dream and more like a memory.

You’re about to call his name, but it’s quickly ripped out of your lips in an airy moan. The flat of his tongue glides up your slit once. Then, he’s doing it again, dipping the tip into your hole and curling between your folds as he moves up to gather your cum. Taking as much as he can, he swallows the taste of you, eyes fluttering closed as he savors it. 

It’s the way he does that – makes you believe this isn’t the first time, like he isn’t a stranger to this side of you. So, you’re drifting back into your head (only barely now, because the pleasure is intense, hot and needy) and it’s as if pieces of a puzzle come together in the span of a millisecond and you’re lucid enough to arrive to what seems like an impossible reason: it’s not the first. 

You can’t shake off this feeling. 

Your pupils dilate, oxygen completely dried from your lungs when you see the pleasure on his face. To you, Rafayel is reliving something he’s missed. Something that’s been denied from him for so, so long and he’s finally grasped onto it, and he looks like he’s found the secret to walking on air. 

The ache in your chest is overwhelmed by the ache in your pussy. You whine, the glow in his eyes too dizzying. It does nothing more than guide you closer to hysteria. Your hips jerk forward, begging.  

Blood rushes through his cock, straining beneath his pants as a deep rumble comes from within his chest. He’s diving back into your cunt for more before you can catch your breath. 

You lie there, unable to close your legs. His arms keep them bent and tucked securely between his biceps and forearms, the strength of him nothing you can even attempt to win against. It comes to you as no surprise – he’s not human after all. Your mouth parts, a light sheen of saliva over your lips. Shallow, quick breaths keep you grounded as you watch through glassy eyes how Rafayel devours your pussy like a starved man. 

He pulls back slightly, staring – he hones in on your little bud. You hold your breath when he presses a kiss to your clit, slow and gentle, before he traps it between his lips and sucks, humming as he does.

“Raf – Rafayel,” you gasp, the vibrations coupled with his sucking makes your thighs vibrate, has you seeing tiny white stars. He sucks your clit harder, and your voice gets caught at the edge of your throat. 

There’s a pause before you’re moaning like a broken record.

You force your hands to mask your face, rallying enough strength to quiet down because you’re falling, losing yourself so fast, and you have no idea how to wrap your head around the pleasure that’s already building back up.

There’s a disapproving click from the man between your legs.

“Stop,” he says, voice deepening to a near growl. It surprises you – this tone, along with that look in his eyes, half-lidded, clouded with desire, like a predator ready to pounce at its prey – and you feel a greater level of ecstasy being injected into you and it knocks against the sensitive, heavy knot in your stomach.

His demand is never quite like this. It feels… good. 

Rafayel loosens the hold on one of your legs to snatch your hands away from your face, “I need to hear you, baby, or I’ll stop.”

Breath bated, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly dazed by the moonlight that hangs over his head just like it does in his eyes. 

Lovestruck. Only a second passes before you realize how far you’ve fallen, how desperate you are to see more of this version because there’s no use in denying that you’re among the reasons – if not the reason – he’ll take charge. It’s a stark contrast to the light-hearted and comical side he usually shows. There’s a certain attractiveness to it, the willingness inside of him to take care of you with this authority. 

He asks, “Won’t you be a good girl and listen to me?”

God, you’re so wet right now.

You forget how to breathe, feeling like you’ve evolved in a bottomless nothing. His grip on your hands is firm, yet not so much that it shackles you. He’s still gentle. Nodding your head is all you can manage. He finds it cute. Rafayel brushes his mouth over your palm and around your hand to the first knuckle. He smiles. 

And, you melt. Of course, you do. Craving to be good for him, to be the good girl like he says you can be – that you are – you clutch onto the bed sheets instead, let your mouth babble this time.

When he’s sure you won’t do it again, he goes back to your clit, giving the attention it deserves as he keeps his eyes on you. He plants a kiss to your throbbing bud again. And again. And then again. It gets stickier there, messy with your cum and arousal and his saliva; stretchy, gooey strings that reconnect his lips to your pussy.

© 2024 wondeurwall ☆ all rights reserved. please don't repost as your own, modify or translate on here or on other platforms. reblogs & likes are appreciated! ♡

[maybefae]

What Creature Would Your Person Be?

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Tips!

|Pile 1

Tarot: Ten of Pentacles, The Hierophant, The Emperor, Four of Cups, Three of Swords, King of Cups, The Hanged Man, Ten of Cups, The Empress, Queen of Cups (bottom of the deck)

Oracle: The Skunk and Magnolia (protection), The Finch and Peach (romance), The Hawk and Thistle (graceful persistence)

This was a very allusive energy and it feels like it belongs to the sea. But my first thought was a male selkie as soon as I pulled the cards, which honestly makes sense why the energy is so slippery and allusive. Another creature could be a male siren. And male sirens exist in myths but were phased out during the 5th century for some reason.  Male selkies have been in legends and operate a little differently than their female counterparts (from what I know/heard). For those not looking for a male partner, adapt this to your liking. I just tell the messages how I receive them.

Selkies can be put in the same realm of sirens but I know them to be completely different. Selkies derive from Celtic and Norse legends and we really only hear of the female counterparts, yet male selkies exist. (One of my favorite movies is The Secret of Roan Inish and it is a story with a selkie in it.) Beautiful in their human forms, they naturally lure in humans from the land because they can easily seduce us and the humans try to steal their seal hide so that the selkie can stay with the human forever. Only once the selkie finds their seal skin, which the human had hid, can they go back home to the sea. Male selkies, from what I have heard, can roam both the land and sea freely, unlike the females who stick to the sea. And they aren’t a malevolent creature and do have a sense of familial responsibility. Which is why I naturally got “selkie” when looking at your cards. Your person being a siren wouldn’t make sense with the cards and it would teeter on your person being more loose with their love. Some stories say that to call in a male selkie, a woman must shed seven tears into the sea. And usually this comes from the woman missing and longing for their fisherman partner that is at sea. They usually target unhappy women.

To combine the legend with your dynamic with your partner, I think your person comes in after a heartbreak from your end and there could’ve been a null on your love life for a while, years even. There is an energy of almost giving up on love but you really hadn’t, there was a pause because of the hurt and because you developed a fear of putting your love into someone else when it could be all for nothing. But under all that, there is that intense longing. The hope that someone will be brought into your life and confirm that to love and be loved isn’t all for nothing. And I love how they gave me a water creature for your person because he comes in as the King of Cups to your Queen of Cups. Your person is so full of love and matches the love you have so there isn’t a one-sided dynamic. You also have The Emperor and Empress so there is a strong emphasis on being a really good pair for each other. And you both want commitment and have the same vision of what you want with each other and for your future together. There is a strong emphasis on family but I’m getting that family could look different for everyone. You could just want a family that is only the both of you since you’ve never had someone stable to come home to before or it could just be you two and your pets or children could be in the picture. Whatever it is, it’s your person’s top priority and they do everything for that. Nothing is more important. 

They would be someone to willingly give you their seal hide because they love you that much. I also kept getting the imagery of sea otters. How they use rocks to crack open shells, scallop shells, and how they hold hands when they sleep in the water together so they don’t lose each other. My sister mentioned something after this thought, and she didn’t know I brought up sea otters in this reading, but apparently the rocks can be passed down through the otter’s family. Take this message how it resonates.

|Pile 2

Tarot: Temperance, Nine of Wands, Ten of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, Five of Cups, The Hanged Man, Death King of Swords, Queen of Pentacles (bottom of the deck)

Oracle: The Bee and Pomegranate (productivity), The Caiman and Poppy (dreams), The Dragonfly and Pansy (balance)

I knew I was gonna get a dragon through one of the piles. Your person made themselves known even before pile 1. Before I even pulled your cards, I had the feeling of the air element. Dragons, for me, are a very well-rounded creature when it comes to all the elements. They are a creature that can rule it all. There are many, MANY stories of dragons and I can’t and won’t pinpoint an exact variation of dragon. But I will tell you what I’m seeing based on messages.

Your person, in regards to dragon traits, is very hardworking and gathers as much financial wealth as possible. They don’t really spend it either, like it kinda sits and racks up interest so they gain even more money. The classic image of a dragon that lays amongst all the gold and jewels and treasure. And they could encounter a lot of people that want to wiggle their way into your person’s life to get to all that wealth. People may say that they are selfish and greedy when your person’s boundaries get slammed down on these people’s greedy hands. They have extremely strong boundaries and they don’t have a lot of people around them. They keep a very strict few people around that they trust, to the point where they don’t even keep family around I don’t think. They worked hard to achieve what they did and they aren’t just gonna give it away to anything or anyone. There is a familial wound that they have around money and I can’t move past their shield to get the exact story, it will be something only you will be able to hear. 

I want to also preface by saying that they aren’t heartless. Dragons love very passionately, loyally, and protectively. They are someone that has waited for the spark in regards to finding a lover and that person that they ultimately get to share their love with is you, pile 2. And you aren’t an object of possession, but you get clumped in with their riches in importance. There is a strong territorial feeling when it comes to you but it’s more protective, not at all toxic. They are going to spoil you and support you in anything you want to do - they want to be successful together. You can do whatever you want as long as they get to love you. There’s a feeling of turning a dragon into a dog, kinda like “scary dog privileges.” 

I don’t know any stories of dragons only being able to communicate through dreams but I keep getting that message. I don’t know if your only encounters with them, so far, is only through your dreams. I think they are actively communicating to you through your dreams and you may not realize because you could be someone that forgets their dreams as soon as you wake up or they come though VERY cryptically.

If your person is male, they have a very big build. For some, this could be a “dad bod” but for others, they are very strong and have an active build to them. If they have a female figure, she’s more curvy with bigger breasts and wider hips, kinda the definition of a woman. Very handsome and beautiful.  18+ Warning: Your person, if they have male genitalia, is very well-endowed. We all know the stories of dragons having two members, like their reptilian counterparts.

I also heard the song Crimson and Clover.

|Pile 3

Tarot: Death, Ten of Swords , Six of  Wands, Two of Swords , Nine of Cups , The Devil, Seven of Pentacles , Page of Wands , Knight of Pentacles, Ace of  Cups (Bottom of the deck)

Oracle: The Snail and Huckleberry (trust in the invisible), The Opossum and Peony (bashfulness), The Quail and Gooseberry (anticipation), The Antelope and Wheat (nourishment)

Hmm, pile 3. I knew I was going to get a pile that has a more “dark” creature. And I personally don’t feel like your person takes on the original, dark and evil characteristics of these creatures. As someone that kinda romanticizes creatures like this, as I have OCs that take on some of these creatures, I believe your person wants to be seen as those characteristics I give these creatures when making my original characters. I just wanted to warn you before I get into the reading.

Now, your person could be a couple different creatures! But they are a creature that inherently “feeds” off a person.

Personally, demons don’t exist to me. Demons usually can be characterized by their trickster energy, which I closely align with fae folk. Your person could be coming through as an unseelie fae, succubi, a vampire, or a grim reaper/death. AGAIN, I want to preface this by saying your person isn’t aligning with the “evil” traits of these creatures. Your person is picking out traits that align with them, which I am going to get to.

Your person has an intense energy (I say as I get a little dizzy) and only a select few can handle this energy. Your person is very used to being solitary. This could be the pile that is looking for a more…temporary and fun partner. They like to have fun, they can seduce very easily, and they are extremely attractive. They can show you a good time. Or they could’ve had their share of temporary lovers in the past, not looking for anything serious, and when they get to you, they are more ready to settle down. Their skills of seduction, passion, and intimacy carry into your relationship and they become more geared towards you. 

They will be good at breaking down your insecurities and drawing out your deepest darkest desires and fantasies, for sure. They feed off passion as much as they give it, so once they get you to be as passionate as them, you could probably have them hooked for life since there's a continuous source of energy. An eternal battery, if you will. I’m getting Gomez and Morticia Addams. I think your lover is SO different from what you’re used to and you have only dreamt of a partner like this, like they are a deepest and darkest desire themselves, so you might not know what to do with them at first. They will definitely make you a little shy and speechless, especially since they are a little unpredictable in the best way. There could be a little anxiety but more excitement/anticipation. They feel like a guilty pleasure to you. I’m getting someone biting their bottom lip at the thought of this person. They feel like the dark character that a main character ends up being with instead of the blond character they start with. 

If this person does end up setting off red alerts to you, then I do suggest staying away from them. For some of you, I am getting that this is someone you SHOULD NOT get close to, at all. This isn’t your person.

Dividers: @inklore