#gwyn prayer beads

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Lingering Touch Pt. II - Gwynriel One-Shot (Kinktober)

Here it is! Like I said before - if you don’t like the thought of Gwyn having this kind of sexual encounter or just the sex in generell, skip. :) 

A little part of this is also heavily inspired by the one post of ‘Azriel is the person to stop in the middle of sex to tell you he loves you, before continuing to fuck you mercilessly.’ 

Warnings: literally everything lol - swearing; rough sex, Sir kink, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetration, degradation, cum play, slight anal play, orgasm denial

5.1k words

Gwyn had an ace up her sleeve and she planned on taking full advantage of it as soon as the possibility presented itself.

Not everyday it happened that spymaster Azriel was unaware of something. Her mate just knows everything, curtesy of his brilliant listening and observation skills. If Gwyn had mentioned she had a weakness for chocolate brownie desserts while talking to Nesta weeks ago, Azriel was the one to whip out said dessert randomly on the next date night. If Gwyn just used the word ‘like’ and ‘tea’ in the same sentence, Azriel went out of his way to fly every possible flavor of tea into the House of Wind. When he heard of her fascination with Pegasie, he bashfully presented her with a stuffed animal Pegasus the next day. To keep her company, he said, when he wasn’t around. And if she ever felt the need to be with another winged male during the night, he was exclusively willing to share her with the Pegasus.

Gwyn noticed that pattern with equal amounts of delight and shock. Birthday and Christmas presents with this male were probably always a hit.

Still, as Gwyn peered into her underwear drawer, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph going through her body. Among the plain white and gray underwear she had worn all her life, lay the most beautiful and delicate set of black lingerie she owned. Well, she only owned one, but it would still be her favorite even if she had a whole store at her disposal.

She smirked at the memory of wearing it for Az for the first time. How she had melted into a puddle under his touch and his gaze, only to be brought back into her body for earth-shattering releases. Then the cycle began anew.

A few weeks had passed since that blissful night, but that didn’t mean the set had served its purpose and was forgotten. No, Gwyn’s new favorite game was wearing it underneath her sweaters or robes, only to ‘accidentally’ flash him with a strap of the lacy bra, or the waistband of the shorts. She mentally counted the seconds it took him to notice, the time it took for his eyes to darken, and finally to find an excuse to leave the room with her.

He’d never been slower than a minute.

But buried underneath all that, save and sound from prying eyes and nosy shadows, lay Gwyn’s most well-kept secret.

It was a shade of dark green with golden beads and just as lacy and gorgeous as its darker sister.

Azriel had of course noticed her excitement and nerves the day she and Nesta ventured out to the lingerie store, and he had noticed her giddiness the night she wore the black set for him. But as far as he was concerned, that was that. He would never guess she had bought a second one.

Gwyn bumped the drawer close with her hips, resuming her morning routine while humming a prayer song under her breath quietly.

She didn’t just want to randomly wear the set for him one day. The lace was so gorgeous it practically screamed for a big entrance and some drama. Or some teasing, at the very least. Azriel’s façade slowly crumbling and his face lighting up with emotion because of her was a sight to behold. And the way he was in bed after being teased would be so worth the sore bits the next day.

Gwyn made her way up the stairs for training. The group of Valkyries and Valkyries in training has never been bigger, which made for two very busy, distracted instructors and plenty of time to whisper about Gwyn’s plan to Nesta and Emerie.

The three females smoothly went through their warm-up, not yet wanting to draw attention to themselves, even though they’d usually talk quite a bit during training. When they fell into their stretches, one next to the other, Gwyn couldn’t hold it in any longer and asked her best friends for suggestions.

Nesta was first to give her input on the matter. “You know, I could picture you lying on the bed, with whipped cream or some sort of gooey liquid already on your skin when Azriel walks in.”

She actually looked like she just shared the secret to the universe. Gwyn couldn’t help but laugh. Emerie next to her tired her best to look like she contemplated the idea seriously.

“But Nes, wouldn’t that be better if she was already naked? Kind of defeats the purpose of the lingerie.”, Emerie for the win.

Gwyn nodded along. “Also, it would probably get all dirty and sticky.”

Nesta let out a scoff, changing positions as she went, “Fine, ignore my expertise on the matter, see where it gets you.”

“Emerie, you?”

She went quiet for a second. “Maybe you can try something the main character did in the last book we read? Deedee sat on the table in the dining room, a robe draped around her, but not enough to cover her body, candles all across the room. You know how candle light matches really well with your hair color.”

“As if that table hasn’t seen enough in its lifetime already.”, Nesta muttered under her breath, making her friends snicker in response. If Nes was prone to one thing, it was sharing – or rather, over-sharing – her bedroom adventures. But that made her all the more approachable in topics like this.

“That would look pretty I reckon, but the dining room is a public space, and I’d hate for Cassian or Nesta to be the first ones to see me spread on a table.”, Gwyn chimed in, “Azriel would loose it if he’d find out. And he probably will.”

The girls fell into a contemplative silence, each raking through their list of sexual fantasies.

They ended up not having any time at all after their warm-up to reconsider the question.

Azriel and Cassian were brutal this morning, urging them to run faster, hold their positions longer, lift heavier. All while the punishments they dealt out for minor transgressions, like talking or laughing, were growing more brutal by the minute. After Gwyn tried to reinitiate the topic of lingerie with Emerie, Cassian forced her to run up and down the stairs to the house proper five times. By the time she reached the landing of the training ring again, she wanted to cut off her legs. It would have hurt way less than what she dealt with now.

Both Illyrians felt off. They didn’t even bicker playfully with their trainees or with each other like they used to. Even around Azriel’s indifferent face, small lines of concentration and stress formed.

Gwyn lightly tugged on the golden thread that connected their two hearts and souls together at one point, and she got an affectionate tug back, but Azriel barely had time to kiss her after training before taking off towards Rhys. Something urgent and highly stressful was going on, and Gwyn sincerely hoped that her beloved won’t throw himself into a massive pile of work, or worse, in a potentially dangerous situation.

Gwyn went through the routine steps of her work in the library that day, trying hard to focus on the task at hand and not reach out to Az. If he had a lot going on already, she didn’t want to add to his worries by being extra clingy. She spent the whole of her work hours sorting through potential research, prove reading a dozen chapters for Merrill and writing up some summaries and arguments. By the time the clock chimed six, she was exhausted, her mind completely drained of focus. But that’s when she felt the most productive.

After a solitary dinner and an hour of reading, she should have been ready for bed. Her muscles started to complain from being worked overtime this morning, her head was buzzing with thoughts and exhaustion in equal measure. Gwyn knew she was in for a long night, tossing and turning in bed before, eventually, either of them would shut off.

With a sigh, she turned the page to another chapter – might as well have some fun while passing the time – when the door to the study opened and a disheveled looking Azriel strode in. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her in front of the fireplace, his hand frozen in its motion of running through his hair.

“Gwyn.”

“Az.”

His name on her lips released him from his stupor and he graced her with a soft kiss to her lips and forehead, his hand lifting her chin up towards him. “Aren’t you exhausted, love? Can’t sleep?”

Of course, he would be concerned about her when he looked like he had been awake for 48 hours straight.

Azriel knelt before her, a scarred hand caressing her arm, worry in his eyes. Still, Gwyn thought that he had a dangerous air about him, something buzzing under his skin with violence and persistence. He wore anger on him like an extra layer of armor, which was normal for the everyday spymaster Azriel, but not for the after-work Azriel.

Gwyn marked and laid down her book, leaning forward and cupping Azriel’s face in both of her palms. He immediately relaxed into the touch, their mating bond humming with comfort. “I feel like I should ask you the same thing.”

Azriel puffed out some air in answer. “It’s been a lot these past few days. I had to work in some new spies to deal with the Autumn court drama, helped Cass to dissolve a conflict with a war band, and I should be going through some paperwork for Feyre. The earlier she gets it, the better.”

“Tonight?”, Gwyn sincerely hoped that he would just go to bed, but the rueful look in his eyes told her another story. His features looked like they were sculpted of stone.

“Yeah, just for a couple of hours.”

When she opened her mouth to argue, he silenced her effectively with a kiss. “I’m sorry, my love. I promise I’ll make this up to you. Just not this week.”

He rose, making his way to the desk in the center of the room and began sorting through the stack of documents on the otherwise neat surface.

Gwyn stood too, not wanting to disturb him, and passed the desk on her way to the door. She let her hand trail a soft path up his neck when she neared him.

They usually touched throughout the day, to assure the other of their love, even more so when they were alone. But this time, Azriel reacted like she’d emptied out a bucket of ice-cold water on him. He spun around on his chair, encompassing her hand with his to stop it from moving, and threw her a stare that was meant to frighten before he schooled his features back to impassiveness. But she’d seen it, the second of pure annoyance.

She also saw that he regretted it immensely, already pleading with his eyes and probably soon with his lips for her forgiveness. But Gwyn backed away, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’ under her breath before quickly seeking refuge in their bedroom.

Gwyn wasn’t afraid of her mate. He had his moments of fury, and he carried a lot of pent-up frustration with him. So much that even the High Lord feared Azriel, or so she heard Cassian say. She also knew that the best way to help him out of this was to either leave him alone for the next days, or to distract him so completely he forgets his stressors.

Leaving him alone was a safe option, one that his brothers usually went with. But what did he have a mate for if she took the easy way out too?

And suddenly, the when and where to reveal her little secret was quite obvious.

***

Gwyn felt a bit like a lamb on its way to the slaughterhouse. Or like a virgin, ready to be sacrificed on the alter. Her steps didn’t falter though.

Bare feet padded softly through the house, the fabric of the opened robe she wore trailing behind her like a veil. She knew a teased Azriel fucked mean. She knew a stressed Azriel fucked hard. She was about to find out what both of these emotions combined would do for him. And for her.

Her nipples pebbled in anticipation.

The air of the dark hallway was cold, and Gwyn resisted the urge to close the silk robe around her. When she opened the door to the study, she wanted him to see her emerald lingerie immediately. And hopefully, he would understand her offer.

Taking a deep breath, holding it at the top for a count of five, and then releasing it forcefully with a whoosh, she opened the door.

She was his mate. Whatever he wanted to throw at her, she could take. And she would throw it back.

The second she stepped over the threshold, Azriel’s eyes met her. He looked thunderstruck, staring her down, the only movement that betrayed him were his flexing hands.

“I thought that if I can’t help you with your tasks, I could at least try to help you manage your stress.”, Gwyn took some steps forward until she stood before his desk. Waiting for him to decide how much of the darker parts of his mind he wanted to share with her. And if he wanted the distraction at all.

After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke, so quietly even her fae hearing barely picked it up.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Gwyn nodded her affirmation.

Azriel scoffed, “You know that won’t do.”

“I want it. I want you.”

His beautiful hazel eyes looked nearly black. His features still as unfathomable as stone. On every other male, this would have frightened her. But not on Azriel. Whatever he would throw at her, she’d take. This feeling of certainty she let surge through the bond in addition. And then, Azriel rose from his chair.

***

“Take off the robe.”

She let it slide over her shoulders and threw it in the direction of the closed door.

“Tie up your hair.”

She gathered her hair into a secure ponytail. Even though she knew that after two minutes of Azriel on her, it would be loose again.

Azriel had rounded the desk as he spoke and now cornered her in, so the backs of her thighs were pressed against the wood.

Her mate lazily took her in. She probably reeked of arousal at this point, but she knew better than to scold him for taking too long. His hand wandered up her stomach, played a little with the golden bead between her breasts, before enclosing her throat. Hard. The pressure made Gwyn choke on her breath, but the puff of air was caught between Azriel’s lips as he pressed his mouth onto hers in a bruising kiss.

There was nothing gentle or reassuring about this. Only a way of asserting dominance and control. His tongue forced its way past her lips at the same time his whole body pressed against her.

Gwyn couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the moan he elicited from her. Azriel smirked against her mouth, biting down harsh on her bottom lip.

“Are you this needy? Moaning like a little slut when I have done nothing more than kiss you?”

He changed his grasp around her throat, inching his hand higher, right underneath her chin. Then, he attacked the defenseless panes of skin underneath with his mouth.

Other than the bruises he usually left on her, the ones he soothed with a lick of his tongue the moment they stung too much, these kisses and love bites were meant to hurt. Gwyn was certain she’d look like a canvas after this was over, painted with his anger and her blood. He sucked hard on the meeting point of her neck and shoulders, twisting and turning her head at his fancy.

Then, he let go suddenly, and Gwyn almost collapsed from the lack of strength that held her up.

“Turn.”

And she turned, supporting her hands on the desk now before her. But Azriel had other plans. With both of his hands, he yanked Gwyn’s arms away from underneath her and behind her back, letting her torso collapse into on the shiny surface. Only her considerable ab strength had prevented her from smashing her nose.

“Did I fucking say anything about using your hands?”

One of his hands gripped both of hers on her back, his other twisted around her ponytail and pulled. Pulled agonizingly until her head and upper body were lifted again.

“Did I, hm?”, his breath tickled her ear.

Despite the uncomfortable position her body was in, Gwyn managed to answer, “No, Sir.”

He pulled her hair harder, the roots straining against his force. “Then why did you do it?” His voice was lethally quiet. Too calm for the storm he had conjured in and around her.

“I thought you-“, she started breathlessly, but he didn’t even give her a chance to explain her perfectly normal reaction.

“Ohh, my little angel thought.”, he mocked her, drawling the pet name that was usually used affectionately until it sounded condescending. “Don’t worry your pretty little head with thoughts. You know I know better, don’t you?”

“I do, Sir.”

“You are nothing more than a pretty body for me to use, little slut. You’d do good to remember that.” He released his hold of her ponytail, her scalp throbbing in relief, and pushed her back on the desk.

Gwyn’s breathing grew rapidly. And she didn’t want to think about the flutter in her stomach whenever he called her a slut. All she wanted now was release. A release of the tension and pulsing that started in her clit the second he gave her his first order.

She could hear how he opened his trousers, one of his hands still firmly clasped around both of her wrists. He hooked his finger in the lace of her panties and pulled it aside, careful not to touch her in the process. Gwyn nearly whined when the cold study air hit her most sensitive part, now completely bare to him and his cruelty.

He didn’t do anything for a long time. Gwyn could only make out the faint nose of him stroking himself, doubtlessly admiring her wetness. It made Gwyn feel all the more vulnerable, and all the more hot, to be draped on this desk for his viewing pleasure.

His finger touched her entrance once, and only very lightly, before he sheathed himself into her completely and without preparation. Both him and her groaned in pleasure, tears springing in Gwyn’s eyes as he started to pound into her mercilessly.

Skin slapped on skin, and if it weren’t for the heavy weight of his desk, Azriel’s thrusts would have sent Gwyn sliding. She used every muscle in her body to hold back, to let him use her as he saw fit.

This wasn’t meat to bring both of them their releases, this was meant only for him to cum.

“Sir – please.”, Gwyn whimpered into the desk, unsure if he even heard her over their breaths and his groans of pleasure.

But he did. And he laughed at her, continuing with his brutal pace and force like it was nothing. “If you want to cum, make yourself cum. I’m not your fucking servant.”

Gwyn didn’t think he could fuck her any harder, but apparently, he had been holding back. He was attacking her relentlessly, hitting a spot so deep inside her she thought she might feel him in her throat soon.

She tried to wiggle one of her hands out of his grasp, but it was to no avail. She had no possibility of making herself fall over the edge, even though she had his permission. Her neglected clit screamed at her to find some sort of friction, knowing she most likely wouldn’t climax if it wasn’t paid attention to.

After a few more thrusts, Azriel groaned and released his seed inside of her. His body collapsed onto hers, his weight almost crushing her arms and hands. He stayed there for just a second, breathing heavily. Gwyn could feel him inside of her, twitching and spurting ropes and ropes of hot cum against her walls before he relaxed.

With a languid movement he pulled out, some of his cum following him and dripping down Gwyn’s thighs. Some also flowed forward, along her slit, and she could have wept with pleasure when a drop stilled right on her clit before dropping to the desk.

“Fuck.”, Azriel released her arms, but she knew better than to move. Grabbing onto her waist, he manhandled her to turn around again, sitting her on his desk. One look to his face and Gwyn knew this was far from over. But she also noted how his features lost some of their harshness, replaced by lust. His finger scooped up the trail of cum that had dripped down her leg, lifting it to her mouth.

“You’ve made such a mess of yourself, angel. It’s time to clean it up.”, was his simple demand. Gwyn parted her lips and sucked his finger clean, swirling her tongue around it because she knew how much he liked it. His cock twitched back to life in response. A tang of salt and Azriel filled her mouth and she nearly whined when he pulled back his finger, only to scoop up more of his cum and push it back into her mouth. After three more scoops, he took a step back, his eyes raking over her form. She undoubtedly looked like she was at the brick of passing out, only her need for release keeping her upright.

Azriel smirked. It was a cruel smirk that meant absolutely no good for Gwyn, but nevertheless she basked in the attention he was giving her.

“Loose the underwear. And then sit on the desk, facing the chair.”

Gwyn did as she was told, now completely bare to him, and sat back down on the desk. Azriel took a seat in front of her, his demeanor completely relaxed, which made Gwyn seethe with bitterness. She’d be a hell of a lot more relaxed too if he would have made her cum.

Sensing her anger, he smiled at her again, “Something wrong, my angel?”

Gwyn gulped back her retort, and instead settled for a “No, Sir.”.

“Really?”, Azriel sat back in his chair, observing her with his cunning eyes, “I thought you’d be desperate to be touched by now. That your body is shaking with need. But apparently, you’re stronger than you look. – Lay down.”

Gwyn eased herself onto the desk, feeling some papers and a pen digging into her skin. Her legs still dangled off the edge.

“Spread your legs.”, he demanded, and the order burned through her like fire. She slowly parted her legs, again baring her pussy for him. “Wider.” She opened herself even more, the rest of his cum forming delicate strings from one thigh to the other. She felt him take her feet and place them on the armrests of his chair. He must be about face to face with her sex now and Gwyn silently begged him to do something with this proximity.

And he did. Gwyn released a sound that was a mixture of breath, moan and shriek when his tongue finally licked up her slit. She was thankful her legs rested on the chair as they started to shake uncontrollably. Azriel noticed, of course, and laughed quietly before licking another broad, soft stripe from her entrance to her clit.

“Az, please.”, she didn’t really know what she was begging him for, maybe to go harder, or for taking her again. She definitely didn’t have stopping in mind. But her mate reclined back in his chair, the momentary release completely forgotten. She felt the first tears escape her eyes with the loss.

“Oh, my angel.”, he said quietly, “You just had to mess it up, didn’t you?”

He stood between her legs, pulling his rock-hard cock out again before plunging into her without any warning. He was very careful not to lean forward too much, Mother forbid he’d accidentally scrape her clit.

Gwyn keened at the sensation of being filled again, but the only effect it had was to put even more pressure on her clit, without actually making her find release. It would take only one touch, she knew, and she’d be cumming around his cock with abandon. But her beautiful, lovable mate completely ignored it. Tears flowed freely over her cheeks now, her vision blurry, mind hazy.

“Why are you crying, angel?”, he smirked down at her, the lilt of his voice so soothing. So completely at odds with the way his cock rammed into her. Gwyn only managed a mumble of noises in answer. “You’ve brought this onto yourself. You better take it now.”

But she guessed he did take mercy on her. He did understand the pain she was in.

His finger graciously, thankfully, found her clit and pressed down, rubbing tiny little circles and she was finished. Her chest arched into Azriel, who pressed down on her at the exact same time, her inner muscles convulsed and tightened. Her scream was probably heard in the depths of the library below, but she didn’t care. Feeling the second spurt of cum Azriel released into her, she came undone herself.

Breathing heavily, Gwyn lay on the desk, eyes tightly shut against the world with only the feeling of bliss spreading from her sex up her spine. Her mate had pulled out already, and she faintly heard him shedding himself of his leathers. Then, she was picked up off the hard surface and carried, towards someplace warm and comfortable.

“Gwyn?”, the whisper felt close to her ear, and more gentle than anything he had said to her the whole day. “Do you want to tell me something?”

The prompt referred to her safe word, she knew. She loved him for asking, the mating bond shining with gold in her chest. But it hadn’t even crossed her mind throughout the whole pleasurable torture he put her through.

“No, Sir, all good.”, she finally replied, having difficulty enunciating the words properly.

Next thing she knew, she was laid down on the carpet right next to the merry fireplace. The warmth seeped through her aching muscles and dried her tears. Her head was lifted gently, a pillow placed under it for comfort.

When Gwyn finally gathered enough strength to open her eyes again, she immediately drowned in green and brown. Azriel hovered over her, almost nose to nose, his wings spread protectively around them.

“I feel like my little angel deserves a reward for being so good tonight.”

Gwyn smiled lightly, “I think she’d like that very much.”

Her mate mirrored her expression before kissing her lips so delicately it made her head spin. Only Azriel could go from one hundred to zero so fast it gave you whiplash. Maybe he even felt bad for her, which can only lead to good things in the future.

Azriel kissed and caressed his way down her body, paying special attention to her nipples and the sensitive underside of her boobs, before landing between her legs again. The sight of him wedged between her legs with his tattooed shoulders contrasting so nicely against her fair skin never failed to amaze her.

But her head fell back in bliss at the touch of his tongue on her clit, robbing her of her view. The open-mouthed kisses he placed on her pussy relaxed her as much as they spiked her passion anew. He was so gentle, not putting too much pressure, but enough where she needed it. The combined fluids of his and her release trickled lightly out of her opening, but he lapped those up as well. When his tongue slid into her, she moaned quietly, not wanting to disturb the moment. He thrusted the hot muscle in and out of her, caressing all the good spots on her inner walls as his finger sneakily found her clit yet again.

After what felt like too little time, he raised himself up, taking Gwyn’s legs and pushing them into her body. “Hold onto them for me.”

When she didn’t react immediately, he placed her hands behind her knees himself. Then, he lowered his head again and feasted.

No inch was spared. His tongue touched everywhere. Languid, lazy strokes went from her puckered hole up to her pussy entrance up to her clit, finishing off with a little flick to it that had Gwyn twitching in response. Azriel licked her so thoroughly and patiently, she didn’t even feel the climax sneaking up on her until it was too late. With a hoarse cry, she came right on his face and fingers, and somehow, this one felt even better than the first. Azriel moaned into her when he noticed, eagerly licking up any liquids she released.

“I bet you have one more in you, angel.”

Gwyn was reduced to speechlessness, which is why she just nodded her head, wanting to stay in her little world of bliss.

To give her at least some sort of a break in-between his assaults on her, he slowly kissed his way back up her body, taking his time to massage and sooth the places he attacked with his teeth only an hour ago.

Gwyn’s legs instinctively wrapped around his hips the second his head was level with hers again, pulling him closer and rubbing his erection against her thigh. Azriel just smiled into her neck, licking and kissing his way up to her chin and finally, landing on her mouth again.

Being bent over a desk and railed thoroughly was a pleasant thing, but simply making out with Azriel did something to her heart. He was always so mindful of her preferences; he knew when to slip his tongue into her mouth to deepen the kiss and when to change to light pecks to the corners of her lips.

After a while of losing themselves in the other, Azriel lifted Gwyn up with a hand under her back, so she was effectively sitting on his lap, legs still enclosing his hips. Azriel stayed seated too, probably not wanting to put any more distance between them. And then he slipped into her and started thrusting upwards.

Gwyn was completely overstimulated at this point. Every thrust and touch to her inner muscles felt like heaven and hell all in one. But she began moving on him as well, always wanting to feel him deeper. Azriel’s arms wrapped so tightly around her back and waist she was sure she was going to melt into him at some point, to never be separated again.

Their lips found each other again, drawn to each other like the sea to the shore.

Azriel broke the kiss just for a second, murmuring against her lips, “I love you, angel. Please don’t ever forget that.”

While still processing these words, she was flipped onto the carpet once more, completely enclosed by Azriel, his muscles, his wings, his tattoos, his scent.

And then he was pounding into her again.

Gwyn wasn’t quite sure if she actually screamed out her pleasure, or if it stayed internally. Her hands were trapped over her head by her mate, legs never leaving their happy place wrapped around his hips. He plunged himself into her with abandon, his pelvis stimulating her clit every time he was buried deep. Within seconds, she felt herself tumbling over the edge, Azriel following her only a heartbeat later.

After their breathing went back to normal and their minds fought themselves out of the fogginess of their bliss, Azriel rested his head on her chest. His wings and shadows wrapped themselves around both of their bodies completely, obscuring them to the world.

“Did I even tell you how perfect you looked in that set, or did I keep the thought in my head?”, he whispered against her skin, his warm breath tickling her chest. Gwyn chuckled, delighted that he wasn’t too far gone to notice it.

“All in your head. As most things are, Shadowsinger.”, she whispered back, her hand finding his hair and running through it soothingly.

“I don’t even know which one I like better.”, he raised his head and body off her to peck her lips, “I might need a side-by-side comparison to decide that one of these days.”

[ginevre]

"Gwyn whispered, "I am the rock against which the surf crashes." Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons. Gwyn lifted the blade. "Nothing can break me." . . Nesta is done 🥳 She is one of my biggest pieces yet, 23k+ beads. What do you think? . Reference art by the incredible @janarunneck and Nesta was created by the one and only @therealsjmaas . And a shoutout to my beloved @vizejenny for introducing me to these books. I'm eternally grateful 😘 . . . #nesta #nestaarcheron #nessian #cassian #acosf #acourtofsilverflames #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acourtofthornsandroses #pixelartist #pixelportrait #pixelartwork #pixelart #nofilter #fanart #fandom #hamabeads #hama #artkal #artkalbeads #perler #perlerbeads https://www.instagram.com/p/CMHP7TZnOd7/?igshid=1lg9ehuhcac9v

[strange-lights-and-stardust]

[untitled wedding poem]

A thing about becoming Gwyn’s godspouse.

Not ready to post this on my wordpress yet. Contains reference to domestic abuse, alcohol, the pandemic, and some sexual imagery.

(untitled wedding poem)

1.

Do You remember our wedding day?

Not Nos Galan Gaeaf, not Halloween,

The day we celebrate

But the day I admitted we were married. 

The day that story became Real.

2.

You’d been nudging me for months. 

In the last few days with music:

Bruno Mars’ “Marry You” 

(Not my usual genre)

Echoed through my head

Along with the opening theme of Wedding Peach

Where magical girls who are angels fall through the sky:

“The sparkle is a wedding ring!”

Indeed. 

2.1

The first time I met Rhiannon

She officiated some kind of ceremony

In a grand cathedral

With Creiddylad in the pews full of compersion

And girlish sparkling eyes

Always cheering us on as You took me to the altar

And I stopped You--

“I thought we weren’t doing the godspouse thing?

We settled on Dedication instead…”

You got that deer-in-the-headlights look

(Pardon the expression), 

As if thinking fast on Your long nimble legs

And said, “Do you trust Me? There’s a word 

A word for what I’m doing

A word that makes sense for us

But I can’t describe it to you yet.”

2.2 

And as You took me to the altar

And we knelt before Rhiannon

You declared before Gods and men

And beings of all genders

With romantic bombast

“I am taking Thorn as My lover.”

I blushed.

3.

And over the months, You kept saying

“It’s a story we call on when it suits us.

How do queer fae witches fit into marriage anyway?

Look at My ring: dark metallic blue

With two dragons of mother-of-pearl.

Let Me take you on a coffee shop date--

Brighid makes a mean pot of coffee.

You don’t have to use any word

That makes you uncomfortable.

But in every way that counts

I married you.”

3.1

“When did You marry me?”

I hoped it was Halloween

The night of my vows

Full of sparkling prayer beads and choked emotion

Solemnity and terror and joy and candles and wine--

A raised eyebrow.

“When do you think it was?”

3.2

I remember You spoke about that night like a wedding.

“Your Godds will be there to give you away.”

And with teasing velvet in Your fangs:

“You’re so impatient for your Dedication. Like a bride

Waiting for her wedding night.”

I couldn’t help but see Your point.

Lifelong vows at an altar, with witnesses, and celebration

In the presence of Deity

In the presence of my Love

And afterwards I spoke about it like a honeymoon

I spoke about it like an anniversary

I spoke about You like my valentine,

When my human spouse left me alone that night.

4.

I thought I should tell them before I let myself say “godspouse.”

I felt Your reluctance.

I thought you were possessive, maybe.

I don’t think it was You. 

I thought it was courtesy and respect to my partner.

I know it was fear.

I know the reason You stopped me from telling them about my vows

Before they happened

And stopped me from sharing our wedding wine with them.

5.

Remember the ring?

The silver and crystal ring?

The random dollar store ring?

The ring from the twelfth day when You proposed

Which I gave back on the thirteenth day  

When we changed it to Dedication?

The ring that’s been on Your altar ever since?

5.1

You told me to wear it

Because I told You “Yes.”

And we circled back to that moment

And retold Halloween as a goth wedding.

5.2

I went out walking during a plague

I went out journeying with my Bridegroom

I came back with secret joy

I came to Your altar alone in my bedroom

And poured us both vodka and diet coke (all I had)

And ate honey on bread

(In Your feasting hall we were feeding each other cake)

And You linked my arm in Yours

And we raised each cup to our lips.

I was so happy

Tears in my eyes

Alone and frozen cold

In a house with an abuser

During a worldwide pandemic

And an uncertain future

But I was over the moon. 

6.

Black carriage

Graveyard beside an old church

Misty orange moonlight

Vows respoken

Moonlit ballroom, in Faerie

Feasting Hall

A silver-haired Lord in black

A King who dances

A King who welcomes the guests

A King who sits me at His right hand

Eyes full of love

6.1

Ancestral cavern

Black velvet bedchamber

Painted beasts on stone walls

One rose on a two-person table

Smoke-shadows by the firepit

Candles and silver and crystal

Warm deerskins and wolf furs

Red satin sheets

“I can finally take you in My arms, as your Husband.”

I take it You’ve been waiting.

[deathbyvalentine]

LARP Prompts

Hors d’ouvere

He popped the grape in his mouth, turning away from the dance floor and making his way through the clusters of people chatting and laughing and twirling. He was alarmingly sober, none of the punches or mixers nearly alcoholic to hit him even a little. Noble parties weren’t fun if you were sober. Everyone was shallow or spiteful or boring. Nobody just relaxed, it was a hotbed of politics and scandal and backstabbing.

The observatory deck was blessedly quiet and cool. When the doors shut behind him the peace was almost oppressive. There were plush benches and he lay on one, gazing up at the sector through the clear ceiling. It was possibly the only time he felt anything close to being jealous of psykers - the stars and planets were gorgeous enough, to add the light of the astronomicon into that mix would render the view rapturous. As it was, it already moved him. 

The view both calmed and excited him. It was like a reassurance that there was a future waiting for him, away from all this bullshit. One day he would travel and explore and it wouldn’t matter who he was. It would matter what he could do.

He wondered if his mother had did the same thing. Felt restless and trapped by the family she had married into, and followed her career into the stars. He flipped open the compass in his pocket as he often did in his more melancholy moments, looking at the scrawled note inside he had memorised. Maybe she had decided that exploring was more important than her son. He didn’t blame her. He just wished he could have joined her.

Washing  (Ancient Greek AU)

Callum slipped their feet into the cool water, sighing as they did so. It was going to be a hot day - you could feel it in the air. Dust was coming up from the roads and hanging in clouds, refusing to disperse. The sky was blameless and blue. Golden morning light touched every leaf and stone. The valleys were starting to wake up and soon the pilgrims would be snaking up the mountain, people seeking prophecies and solutions. But for now, there was peace. 

The vapours have rendered them weak, dark circles painted under their eyes, a thinness about them that verged on spirit like. The oracles always seemed more of the next world than this one. But the water did their part in healing and refreshing them, as it always did. It sparkled like crystal, throwing light with every ripple. They leaned down to scoop up a handful, pouring it over their head. Their chiton stuck to them wherever the water fell, becoming almost translucent. 

They were expecting someone today. But then, they had thought that every day this month. Someone that kept flickering in and out at the edges of their visions. A man with two voices but one face, eyes that flickered with fire. Whenever they tried to seize on him, the smoke disappeared between their fingers. They had no idea who it was. But they couldn’t stop thinking about him, intrigued. 

They stood, pulling back from the pool and taking a deep breath. Time to go prepare, give the people the truth they sought, whether they were prepared for it or not. They closed their eyes and turned their face upwards towards the sun, letting the blessing of Apollo touch their skin and warm them from the inside out.

Dreams

Everything was drenched in gold light all over again, the sector and it’s problems very very far away. This was home, Cal’s heart told them. Nothing could hurt them here. And they slept.

Distantly, they felt something. Someone saying their name, murmuring it in prayer. It troubled them and they wanted to reach out and heal whatever ailed - what were they called again? The name seemed unimportant. It slipped from their fingers and disappeared into the golden air. And so they slept.

In their sleep, deep dark dreams troubled them. Images of violence ravaging planets, Mitra hopping from body to body, Bridge struggling, Nic gasping for breath. But they were only dreams.

And so they slept.

Stealing Practice

The first thing he learnt is that this bloody standard uniform needed more pockets. He was getting rather tired of tucking things into the back of his trousers only to slip down. His pilot coat was similarly useless in holding anything of worth. However, the ultimate combination looked absolutely incongruous but was a treasure trove of hiding places; his flight suit with his noble coat over the top. He had managed three ash trays, a pair of boots, Nic’s bolt pistol and Med’s scanner in this outfit. He had to walk extremely carefully for fear of injuring himself and/or rattling. 

After he had nailed the simple ‘lift and conceal while the person is turned around’ method of stealing he decided to expand his repertoire. It had been a while since his skills had been honed after all. His teenage years were a little while behind him. He set himself challenges, partly to amuse himself in lieu of actual duties, partly just to see what he could get away with. 

It was a shame Jones was Off-Limits as Lance frequently eyed up his cases of Voidman’s Friends, wondering how quickly he could palm them before he noticed. He gave it a good whole two minutes. Hawke however, he was fair game. Lance got a rather cigar case from him with nothing but a lean against his shoulder, feigning interest in the weapon he was fitting. It sort of seemed too easy. Anya’s goodwill rendered her similarly simple quarry. He got two icons from her, a calligraphy pen and a set of gloves before he realised it wasn’t due to skill and more her lack of realisation she should give him zero benefit of the doubt. 

It was time to level up. 

Esme was first. She had joked about stealing the necklace from her throat and that sounded like a challenge to him. He had been expecting it to be more difficult, but leaning in close to her and resting a hand on the back of her neck had clearly flustered her beyond all reason. It had been easy to unclip the icon and let it slip down his sleeve before grinning at her and leaning back, disappearing a few minutes later. 

One of Nic’s cats proved rather resistant to being stolen and he decided that if it was a living, autonomous being it counted for double points. Triple, he amended, once he saw the bloody scratches on his forearms.

Then, there was the ultimate challenge. Gwyn’s prayerbeads, always hanging from their waist. There was a none zero chance he would get stabbed attempting this. But he would do it. For the art.

The first three times they grabbed his wrist so hard he got a bruise around his wrist, which of course he demanded be kissed better. His moments had been chosen mostly when they were looking the other way but they seemed to have eyes on the back of their head. 

So maybe it was low, but he ended up succeeding when he had his arm around them, covers pooled around their waist, lying in bed. This was always when they were at their most relaxed and occasionally closed their eyes. With his free arm he fished the prayer beads from the pile of clothes and shoved them casually under his pillow.

It didn’t take them too long to notice and when they did there was a long moment when Lance was faced with the very real possibility of having his nose broken again before they burst into laughter and told him to keep them. 

Then it was time for step two of his grand plan, the one he refused to analyse or consider in depth. He didn’t want to think about why he wanted to impress the man or if this was an elaborate flirting ritual or just the product of boredom. Each item he carefully placed outside Bridge’s quarters, balanced in a somewhat precarious pile. The cat was a particular obstacle but with the liberal application of treats decided to stay put. The armscrew just tutted and rolled their eyes but decided not to interfere. Lance was clearly too stupid to be dangerous. He left a note balanced on top: “Training, Round one.”

Tomorrow 

He practically vibrated with excitement as he sat on the bed, legs hanging over the edge and jiggling with barely contained energy. There was a small twinge of guilt in amongst the excitement, guilt that he was so excited about flying something other than the Devout. He’d make it up to her later. 

His medical was going well so far, as he knew it would. The augmetics had more than corrected any problems he had had, and he hadn’t been ill from anything worse than a hangover in recent memory. His heart was still pretty damn strong, his lungs only a bit battered from iho. No addictions, no real vices. There was no reason that he’d be unable to fly her. 

Meeting a craft for the first time was always a magical experience. By turns it was like meeting a partner, a companion, a lover or a pet. He had no idea what the Spiderwidow would be, but he was willing to bet his life she was nothing like a pet. She was too vicious for that, too deadly. He was going to have to be careful. Which was exciting enough to make his heart speed up. 

He was impatient for the paperwork to be signed off and introductions to be made. One more sleep until a very belated Candlemas present. He would be touching something made for the Astartes. He would be interacting with the ghosts of angels, buried deep inside the manifold.

Pacific Rim DuD AU

The water rushed in where the metal had severed and cracked, making electronics fizzle and spit. It was pouring like blood from a wound. Cal gasped at the shock of the impact, feeling it as though it had hit their flesh. They looked over at Baris who had his teeth gritted tight, trying to resist the urge to panic. At least if they were going down, they were going down together. Or so they thought.

A moment later there was a roaring screech, the kaiju lurching forward with its claws, sending a wave of water that knocked them a little off balance. They struggled to right themselves and that few seconds made all the distance. The creature lunged forward again and ripped through the entire jaegar, ripping Baris from Cal’s mind and body.

Excruciating pain crackled across their body like lightening, a broken circuit pressing into their shoulder and shooting down every muscle, making their hand clench tight. Their balance was now completely broken in more than one. The jaegar stumbled and crashed into the sea, unable to support itself on one pilot. Water soon covered Cal’s head, one by one the lights of the circuits and machines disappearing out.

It didn’t matter. Baris was gone.

Sober - T67

Astrid woke up, mouth feeling like a desert. She rolled over in Syn’s bed, finding it empty. Syn must have already went off to work. She had got very diligent since the syndicate had decided they wanted the Saints. She had to. The stakes were higher than ever.

On autopilot, she reached for the bedside table before realising that she would not find any pills there. She let her hand fall on her face and groaned out loud. This was day three of this utter bullshit. She sat up, letting her curls fall behind her like a pink waterfall, a highly tangled one. She had not been sleeping well. She had not been doing anything well. The past few days had been a testament to that.

She was forgetful, tearful and ill. She tossed and turned all night, wanted to fuck constantly and had no appetite. She had turned from bubbly and warm into withdrawn and anxious. Her nails were bitten down to the quick. She didn’t like who she was when she was just Astrid. She didn’t like being clear headed, seeing everything as it was, without the soft bubblewrap drugs gave her. It made everything softer and kinder. And this world was anything but kind.

Already, she missed Syn. Since Rei had died she had become lonelier, clinging to whatever family she had left. But with this new insight, she was rather aware that to many of them she was something of a liability. She didn’t like knowing that. She didn’t like it at all.

She would dress up so tonight Syn would have something to really look forward to coming home to. She may not be good at a lot of things but she was good at looking good. That was like a skill. If you squinted. She had to believe that because if that wasn’t true, what else did she have?

Fresh Hell - T67

Her fingers were dyed indigo, the flimsy gloves nowhere near enough to protect her skin. She stretched her fingers out in front of her, wondering if she could pull it off as an intentional look. Oh well. It was too late. The deed was done. She wasn’t quite sure if it suited her yet.

She definitely looked paler, a few of her softer curves seeming sharper. Her eyes looked more green, her freckles more like stars. The blue framing her face was new and frightening but she thought she might like it. She knew Rei definitely would have, had they been around to see it. This way they actually would have looked like siblings. For the first time she could see the ghost of their sibling in her face, the same cheekbones, the same shape eyes. It was terrifying to know that the only physical evidence of Rei left on this world was herself.

Rei should have lived. Rei was smarter, tougher, more loved. Maybe they didn’t have to be gone entirely - maybe Astrid could be more like their sibling. They could learn. They could grow. They could be tough. They shrugged on one of Rei’s jackets, admiring the effect in the mirror.

The companies and press and syndicate might be able to forget Rei. Astrid would make sure the Saints never would.

Huntsman/A Brand New Adventure - HEA

He stood on the branch, barely breathing. He notched the arrow, bringing the bow up, drawing the string back. He was every inch the hunter, dirt streaked down his face, leaves tangled in his hair. The cart was about to trundle underneath the tree where he was lying in wait. His gang were hidden in the other trees lining the dirt road, in hoods and dresses, with swords and daggers.

He held up one hand, the universal signal for ‘wait for it’. He gave a low, keening whistle, it carrying easily on the wind. One of the horses below looked up, ears flicking curiously. One of its riders followed its gaze up to the tree, and his eyes widen in surprise. That moment is all Peter needs.

He lets the arrow loose and it hits it mark, right in between the rider’s eyes. With a whoop he somersaulted out of the tree and fell upon the cart like a carnivorous beast. It was over in a matter of minutes, blood mixing with the golden coins as the Merry Men shovelled them into sacks.

Morose, Peter sat on the broken wheel and picked at a scab on his knee. Robert clicked his tongue as he pulled the short straw to go and check on their mercurial leader.

“What’s up boss? I thought that went well. No casualities, tons of cash, sticking it to the Sheriff.” Peter mumbled something.  “What was that?” “I said it was too easy.”  Robert blinked. “What?” “It only lasted like, two minutes, nobody did a dramatic scream, I didn’t see any bones or anything!” “Most people count that as a win.” Peter returned him a withering stare. “I’m not most people.” He stood, letting his legs stretch. He had gotten a little taller from when he had first alive, his cheekbones a little sharper. He looked more teenage like than child like.“No point in a fight if it’s not even fun.” “Tell you what. When you get back to camp, we’ll find you a proper bear to wrestle with, okay?” The younger man immediately lit up, flashing a grin, bad mood forgotten. “Yes! What a good idea I’ve just had! We’ll find a bear!” Robert rolled his eyes but smiled, amused. “Right you are boss.”

Rescue - HEA

The rock on which he had almost drowned had become something of a refuge for Peter. When the world got too noisy or his head too confusing, the world was quieter there. It made him melancholy, the light sadness settling on his chest like fresh snow. It was sadness without a name or cause, the type that felt as essential to the human condition as breathing. It was too big to name, and even a philistine like Peter could feel it.

He let his feet sit in the lapping water of the lagoon, for now ignoring the flashly glints of a mermaid’s tail or the light tickle of their fingers. Sometimes he would snap from his reverie and play. Today though, he would not be stirred from his dark thoughts, and he did not even look up from the spot at which he stared.

Something was troubling him.

The worst part he wasn’t quite sure what it was. The boys were dancing around their campfire, celebrating the latest batch of dead pirates. The fairies were organising their latest orgy, the mermaids were feasting on the bones of the lost and the various tribes were either at war with him or celebrating his victory with him. So why was his mind circling in on itself, like something had scented blood in the water?

He leaned back, looking up at the stars. Unless he was in a bad mood, the stars were always visible in Neverland. He finally siezed upon what exactly the problem was, though it did not add any sort of clarity to the situation. He had forgotten something. 

This was of course, not in and of itself a particularly spectacular affair. He forgot things frequently and with relative impunity. What was unusual was the fact he remembered forgetting something. It hadn’t just danced out of his brain with no announcement - it had left a mark. And like a missing tooth, he couldn’t quite stop tonging at it. 

He would be distracted for a short while, but he would keep remembering that absence and on and on it would go. He finally stood, scowling at the sky as though it was personally responsible for his plight. He’d get to the bottom of it, he always did.

Glass/Flame - Parador Hanging Out

Mattias leaned back, placing his feet in Sol’s lap and stretching. The land hadn’t quite fully recovered from the presence of the invading forces, but it was getting there. The family’s forest had remained standing throughout it all and being The Coast, there wasn’t exactly any irreplaceable structures to loose. The parador had been restored to very almost its former glory. 

Mattias was happy to return after his sailing adventure to the Broken Shore. He sat in Sol’s lap and showed him the few cuts and scrapes he had gained, the story between every one. The excitement from him was clear. His first real scrape with violence and it had been an abundant success the likes of which the Empire had rarely seen. It didn’t seem to occur to the younger man that not all wars would be like this and perhaps he had been lucky. Of course he had put it down to his own skills and prowess despite knowing next to nothing about fighting or strategy. 

He clung to Sol as the evening drew in. He had missed him, and he made that clear, kissing his neck and occasionally incautiously catching him with his gilded antlers. It had been to him ages since he had seen his lover, several seasons. Mattias (who’s attention span was somewhat short) had stretched this into eternity. As the sun set over the mountains, he fell asleep against his chest, exhausted merely from recounting his adventures. Glass wondered how Flame managed to expend so much energy on merely existing, though he wondered fondly.

The Fragile, Initial Concept

He cuddled into his side further, stealing even more warmth from him, seemingly oblivious to the fire crackling in front of them. The night was not cold - he would not freeze but this was his pretence for closeness. The Hunter knew this, this small attempt at guile and did not bother hiding his affectionate smile. 

The Innocent seemed to thrive much more on warmth of the heart than warmth of the flesh. Wherever he was, with whoever he was with, he sought touch and affection. Hugs, nuzzles, hair pets, with seemingly little awareness of the concept of personal space. He certainly didn’t have any himself and it didn’t occur to him anybody else would either. It was one of the ways he needed to be protected, The Hunter yanking him back from creatures or creations that would rather not be lavished with attention.

The Hunter’s eyes were focused on the forest around them, ears pricked up for threats, looking for the darkness moving in a way it was not supposed to. The Innocent’s eyes were trained up at the sky, marvelling at the endless wonder that was the network of stars and planets, drawing patterns between them. Everything was art, if you looked at it in a special way. He pointed out some of the patterns he had found, explaining the stories he had made up to go with them. Stories free of bloodshed or lies. Mostly they seemed focus on exploration and friendship. The horse was friends with the bear who was friends with the lily flower who grew brightly in the sky. It was laughably childish, no real structure or plot, but he seemed to enjoy telling them all the same. And the Hunter enjoyed listening. 

They seemed an odd pair, curled up close, one broad and one slight, one dream like and one grounded in reality. Like a deer and a lion spending time with each other. 

[anaurael-old-blog]

Dark Souls Name Meanings

This is a list of direct and possible meanings from the Dark Souls series. If I missed anyone or you would like to see someone’s name on the list please let  me know so I could put them on here ^^

Smough -His Japanese name is Sumo which is self explanatory.

Ornstein - Old Norse word örn, meaning “Eagle”, and the German stein, meaning “Stone” but he was most likely inspired by the Russian musician Leo Ornstein.

Gwynevere - It is the French form of the Welsh name Gwenhwyfar name that is comprised of Gwen meaning “Holy”, “White”, and “Fair”, and hwyfar, meaning “Smooth”.

Gwyndolin - A Welsh name meaning “White/Holy/Blessed Ring” and “White Bow”. Dolen is bow/ring.

Gwyn - Variant of the Welsh name Gwen, meaning “Holy”, “Blessed”, “White”, “Fair” and “Pure”.

Artorias -  derived from a Roman clan name meaning “Courageous” and “Noble” and most likely the origin of Arthur

Gough - Possibly derives from the Breton word goff, which means “Smith”, or possibly from the Welsh coch, meaning “Red”.

Ciaran - Irish name meaning “Little Dark One”. (how accurate lol)

loyd - From the Welsh name llwyd meaning "Holy" and “Grey".

McLoyf - In Scottish, Mc means “Son of” no clue what Loyf means though I’ll find it eventually.

Rendal - Probably comes from the Germanic Randall, comprised of roots meaning "Wolf" and "Shield".

Oscar - English name meaning "Divine/God's Spear".

Anastacia - Greek name meaning "Resurrection" and the name of one of the Saints, Saint Anastasia of Sirmium.

Petrus - Deriving from the Latin petra, meaning "Rock" or "Stone".

Solaire - The Latin words sol (Sun) -aire (occupied with/possessor) come together to mean "Occupied with the Sun", or "Possesses the Sun".

Lautrec - there is a famous painter named Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa but that's all

Fina - There are a few meanings but the closest were  the Celtic name that derives from Fiona, and means "Blonde/Fair". It may also derive from Seraphim (Serafina): a title of angel meaning "Burning one".

Andre - A French/Greek name meaning "manly" and "brave".

Oswald - Derives from the Anglo-Saxon Osweald, meaning "Rule of God".

Griggs - Probably derives from the Greek gregoros meaning "Watchful" or "Wakeful".

Rhea - A Greek fertility, mother and Earth Goddess. She is the mother of Zeus' generation. Etymologically, Rhea means "Flowing Water".

Vince - Short form of Vincent, meaning "to Conquer".

Nico - Comes from the Greek Goddess Nike meaning "Victory".

Laurentius - Derives from Laurence meaning "Laurel", a tree considered regal in ancient Rome.

Kirk - Scottish name meaning "Church".

Domnhall - Scottish name meaning "Ruler of the World".

Mildred - Anglo-Saxon name meaning "Gentle Strength".

Quelaag -Quel is of English Origin and means “love”and Aag is an Urdu/Hindi word meaning "Fire".

Eingyi - Is this even a real name?

Quelaan -  Once again the English word meaning “love” and Ann is a Hindu name meaning “respect” and “pride”

Quelana - Lana is an English name that means "Little Stone", and is also the Spanish word for "Wool".

Sen - Comes from the Japanese word meaning "One Thousand". (meaning the ridiculous amount of traps that are in that fortress)

Siegmeyer - Comprised of the Nordic roots sigr, meaning “Victor”, and meyer, meaning “Official”, “Officer" or “Mayor”.

Logan - A Scottish name, deriving from the Gaelic lagan, meaning “Hollow”.

Ricard - French name meaning “Powerful Ruler”.

Flann - A Gaelic name meaning “Red Haired”.

Jeremiah - A Hebrew name meaning “Exalted”, or “May God Exalt”.

Priscilla - English name meaning “Ancient". However her original Japanese name is Purishira. Shira means “White” while I’m guessing Puri is coming from the English “Pure”.

Velka - A Slavonic name meaning “Great Fame”.

Frampt - no idea

Shiva - Sanskrit for “The Auspicious”, and is the Hindu God known as “The Destroyer”.

Alvina - English name with a few meanings: “Wise/Noble Friend”, “Friend of Elves”, “Warrior Princess”, “The Most High”, and, most fittingly, “Magical Being”.

Sif - Name of the Norse goddess Sif, often associated with earth.

Sieglinde - Comprised of the Norse sigr: “Victor”, and the German lind: “Soft” or “Tender”.

Seath - A Celtic/Gaelic name meaning “wolfish” or “Wolf-like”. (makes no sense but that’s what I could find)

Vamos -The name of a small town in Crete, Greece. Vamos is also Spanish for “Let’s Go” but it is not a name.

Pinwheel- The original Japanese name is San'ninbaori, which literally means "Three People in a Coat". (thank god some of these names are ridiculous)

Patches - English name meaning “ guy who definitely won’t kick you in the back off a ledge”.

Leeroy - French name meaning “The King”.

Nito - Probably a diminutive of the Italian finito, meaning “Done” or "Complete" (relating to death). Nito is also a form of Benito, meaning "Blessed".

Ingward - Ingvar is a Scandinavian name meaning “Protected by Freyr”. Freyr is a Norse fertility God.

Ricket - A variation of the name Ricard, meaning “Powerful Ruler”.

Kaathe - also no idea

Dusk - The final moments of twilight.

Chester - Derives from the Latin “Castra” meaning “Camp"

Kalameet - A rough translation of the Japanese pronunciation of the English word "Calamity". However Kalameet is also a sanskrit name meaning “Friend of Art” and Kara (Kala in Japanese) means “Black/Dark” in Turkish.

Elizabeth - Greek name deriving from the Hebrew Elisheba meaning “Oath of God” or “God is satisfaction”.

Manus - Most probably derived from the Hindu Manu: the mytholgoical archetypal man and "Progenitor of Humanity". Manus is also a Gaelic name meaning “Great”, and Latin for "Hand" and "Power".

Iudex Gundyr - Iudex is Latin for "Judge". Gundyr derives from Old French name introduced by the Normans as "Gondri" and "Gundric". It is composed of the Germanic elements Gund meaning "Battle", and Ric, meaning "Power" or "Ruler". Also, in Norse languages Begynder means "Begin" or "Beginner".

Hawkwood - Hawk of the Wood, or Wood of Hawks. Quite basic.

Ludleth - Could possibly mean "Half man", (In Japanese he refers to himself as a pygmy so possibly in connection with that)

Leonhard - Brave or Lion heart.

Greirat -.Idk all I could find was grey rat xD

Loretta - Latin name referring to the laurel or sweet bay trees which are symbolic of honour and victory.

Emma - Derived from the Germanic name meaning "Whole" or "Universal".

Vordt -The closest I could find derives from the Dutch Vorst, meaning "Frost", "First", "Quarry", and "Ruler".

Yoel - A Hebrew name meaning "God Prevails".

Yuria - Uria is another Hebrew name meaning "Light of the Lord"  and possible derived from japanese yuu “gentleness, lithe, superior” ri “village” and a “second, Asia”

Liliane - Derived from the flower Lily, a symbol of purity and innocence and Anne means "favour", "grace" or "prayer".

Cornyx - The latin word cornix means “crow” which is supported by his outfit

Hodrick - Means "Famous Power" from the Germanic elements "Hod"-fame and Ric "power".

Arstor - Could derive from the Occitan Astur meaning "Goshawk".

Eygon - Igon is a Basque name, meaning "Rise". And it is also Old English for “sword”

Irina - Derived from the ancient Greek Goddess of "Peaceful Life" Eirene and the name of Saint Irina

Siegward - From the Old Norse name Sigurðr, which was derived from the elements Sigr "Victory" and Varðr "Guardian".

Anri - Derived from Henry, meaning "Ruler of the Home" and  Anri is also a unisex name in Japan with way too many meanings to list

Horace - Deriving from the the Roman clan name Horatius meaning "Time Keeper".

Sirris - Could be derived from Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, meaning "Bright" or "Burning". It is also known as the Dog/Wolf star.

Orbeck -Norse or means “wet clay, mud” and Beck means "Stream" or "Brook"

Rosaria - Means "Rosary", and is taken from the Spanish title of the Virgin Mary: Nuestra Señora del Rosario meaning "Our Lady of the Rosary". A Rosary type of prayer involving beads of the same name.

Royce - English name meaning "Royal" or the "King's Son".

Klimt - Derives from Clemence, and means "Merciful" and an Austian painter was named Gustav Klimt

Heysel - Could possibly represent the hazelnut which is believed to help provide wisdom and insight, which reflects the Xanthous set's colour scheme

Wolnir - Not completely sure, but Nir is a Hebrew root meaning, "to Break up". This could be in reference to Wolnir crushing the crowns of the other Lords.

Cuculus - Latin for "Cuckoo"

Tsorig - Tso in Hmong means "Release" and Rig means "to bind". Unsure about this because pronunciation is off.

Creighton - In Scottish name meaning "From the Farm by the Creek".

Dorhys - Possibly deriving from the Greek Doros, meaning "Gift": probably because she gives you her miracle when she dies.

Sulyvahn - Irish name meaning "Black-Eyed" or "Little Black-Eyed One" (kinda reminds me of his rings)

McDonnell - Scottish/Irish name meaning "Son of Donald or Domhnall". Donald and Domnhall mean "Leader" and/or "Ruler of the World".

Yorshka - Possible means yoru “night” shi “teacher and ka which would make it a question. Night’s teacher, or is she

Aldrich - English name meaning "Old and Wise Ruler". However the original Japanese name is Eldritch which literally means "sinister", "ghostly", "ethereal" or "otherworldly" and is Germanic for ald “old” and ric “ruler”

Alva - Could come from Alvah, which is Hebrew for "Highness", "Brightness" or "Exalted One" and Anglo-Saxon churl for “human, commoner”

Karla - Scandinavian name meaning "Womanly Power". It could also be derived from the Germanic Karl, meaning "The lowest class of free man", or Charles, meaning "Army/Warrior".

Yhorm - Possibly derived from Jehoram, hebrew for "Exalted by Yahweh (God of the Iron Age of Israel)" or it could have also come from Gorm, the first King of Denmark, meaning "god-fearing" or "respectful of the gods".

Oceiros - The original Japanese name Osroeth derives from Osroes, the Greek form of the Persian Khosrow, meaning "King" specifically of Parthia. The English name could also refer to Osiris, the Egyptian God of the dead and judge of the underworld.

Gotthard - Composed of the German roots for "God" and "hardy/brave", Gotthard means "Divinely stern".

Albert - English name meaning "Noble" and "Bright".

Kriemhild - German name composed of the roots grim for "mask" and hild for "battle".

Kamui - Derives from Japanese Kamuy: beings that are somewhat similar to Patron Saints, as they represent more limited and specific things than the Gods

Gertrude - German name meaning "Strong Spear".

Lorian - English name meaning Laurel tree (same as Loretta for some reason). It makes more sense here though as Laurel Wreaths were used as crowns in Rome; it is a royal tree.

Lothric - Comes from Loath, meaning unwilling, or Loth meaning “famous” and Ric  either means Ruler or Kingdom.

[fulgurantfirstborn]

{{Very vague ideas for a Blasphemous AU if I ever decide to go forth with such a verse: 

Gwynfor is member of the Anointed Legion (can summon lightning, helps uphold the status quo established by worship of the Miracle)

Might even be a captain like Cristanta so he has a unique weapon (swordspear of course) instead of the usual aspergillum mace other Legion members have

He becomes disillusioned and betrays the Legion by helping the Penitent One on his journey (maybe they get to hold hands and pet the Albero dog together)

Currently not sure if I still want Escribar to still be Escribar or if Gwyn would take his place as His Holiness/Last Son of the Miracle (that being said, it would be interesting to imagine the implications of Gwynfor being a like bastard son if Gwyn was basically Cvstodia’s Pope)

No rosary beads from his questline given how many already relate to lightning

Instead Gwynfor would gift a Prayer similar to the Sunlight Blade Miracle (maybe it lets the Penitent One slash out lightning for a longer amount of time than whatever is granted by the Cloistered Ruby/Sapphire rosaries)

Various endings for Gwynfor’s questlines based on how Penitent One interacts with him: Gets caught and executed by other Legion members, gets caught but can be rescued from jail so that he can continue helping the Penitent One, becomes the true Last Son of The Miracle

Might talk a lot about his sisters but in a way that suggest he doesn’t have a clear memory of his childhood and family, perhaps was an orphan taken in by Escribar and those in the Mother of Mothers like Esdras, Perpetva, and Exposito

Maybe more to come once I’ve absorbed more of the lore?}}

[strange-lights-and-stardust]

Yesterday I scored two free Anglican rosaries, so naturally I re-purposed them to make prayer beads for my Gods. Specifically, Gwyn and Hades.

Something felt deeply sacred about it. Not only are prayer beads (traditionally at least) a sign that something or Someone is worthy of prayer and worship, but also, I made these by taking apart, dismantling if you will, a symbol of the religion (by which I mean Christianity in general, not any specific tradition or individual Christian person) that has demonized, disrespected and profaned both of Them for so long.

Before: 

After (for Gwyn)

After (for Hades)

I also made another one for Gwyn, entirely out of my beads I already had.

That crown charm is from a necklace my best friend growing up gave me, a friendship necklace of sorts. She said it meant we were both “daughters of the king” (she meant Jesus). I treasured her friendship but could never bring myself to wear it. Now I understand the reasons were trauma and dysphoria. I used this charm because I’m a son of a different King, and for me there is “No King but Gwyn.” It feels as though, by consecrating that crown charm to Gwyn, He’s reclaiming something that was lost to me for a long time.

[strange-lights-and-stardust]

hi!! i saw your recent post about the prayer beads and i absolutely adore your idea ... ive been wanting to make some myself but im extremely lost in the part of actually praying with them. could you share a kinda tutorial on how to pray with pagan prayer beads?

I don’t know enough about any kind of prayer beads to share a tutorial but I’m happy you liked the ones I made. :) I mostly just wear mine, devotionally. Or keep them on the respective altars. I have a poem-prayer I say to Gwyn and I was planning to assign one line of that to each of His beads but other than that I don’t know. I’m sure other people have written things about how to pray with them though. 

[strange-lights-and-stardust]

Starstruck Awenydd crossposting

It’s Sunday so it felt appropriate to share my re-written liturgy and the prayer beads I recently made for Gwyn. 

Liturgy and Prayer Beads

[hearthfirehandworksshop]

New! Gwyn ap Nudd pocket prayer beads :).