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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

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To Choose the Sword (Bishop Heahmund x Reader)

Summary: There is only person that Heahmund cherishes above all, and when she is threatened, he realizes he would do anything to protect her…. even sell his soul to a blue-eyed devil.

This is my contribution to @maggiescarborough 500 followers celebration! (I’m so sorry this is late but here we are.)

Flower chosen: periwinkle- religious symbol in the Middle Ages tied to the Virgin Mary, benevolence (desire to do good to others, charitable), nostalgia and purity.

I also decided to add an extra challenge and write for a character I would not normally write for- hence Heahmund.

Words: 6000

Warnings: implied abuse/mistreatment, mutual pining, couple swear words, heavy religious overtones, Ivar being manipulative

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

Also, a huge shout-out to @flowers-in-your-hayr for this absolutely stunning moodboard. Look at this! Its gorgeous! Be in awe!

He knew where she would be.

The leaves and twigs underfoot crunched beneath his boots. The morning sun casted shadows as it peeked through the foliage above him. His sword bounced against his back almost in sync with the cross upon his chest. The weight of both, something he was continuously aware of.

It was here he first met her on a hazy summer day.

It was here the two of them always seemed to find one another like two stars caught in each other's orbits.

It was here he could never decide if she was his salvation or his damnation.

Along the thin trail, his feet guided him, stepping over sticks and rocks. His mind wrestled with the news, but as his mind fought, his heart broke within his chest. It was a selfish reaction, he knew. Yet that did not cease the pain welling in his chest, so strong it threatened to bring forth tears. He kept them at bay. For he was a man of the cloth, a man of God.

But sometimes he struggled with just being a man.

Soon the gurgling of the bubbling creek could be heard amidst the summer songs of the birds. His footfalls quickened and after several more paces, she finally came into view. Kneeling near the creek, hands folded before her in supplication, she appeared the very vision of pious purity.

Heahmund gently called out her name, like a whisper in the breeze, a soft caress on skin. When her head lifted, turning to find him walking closer, his heart skipped a beat. Those eyes that beguiled him, those sweet lips that only allowed kind words to pass through, and her smile…. oh, that smile that lit up her face like a lamp uncovered to shine in the darkest of nights.

To his dying breath, he would fervently believe she was an angel in disguise, a blessing from the Lord God bestowed on his creation to remind them of His goodness.

And that was why she was both his salvation and damnation.

Because he wanted her. He wanted her with all his soul. But she was too pure, too benevolent, too holy for someone like him. She made him want to be better in both his vows and himself. To fight without wavering in protecting his country from the heathens. To protect her from ever having to fear them.

And when she turned those eyes to him, when she smiled gently at him like he was her favorite person on earth, he was undone.

"Your Grace." She rose to her feet, brushing off the few pieces of grass that stuck to her green dress.

"I heard the news that you will no longer be in my congregation."

"Yes. My father has family in York. With his failing health, he thinks it wise for us to move there."

Heahmund hummed in thought as he moved closer. Even though his face remained impassive, his heart clenched at the thought of her leaving. For who else would he look to while saying prayers at Mass? Who else would he recite scripture and poems to while they reclined next to the bubbling creek? Who else was kind enough to seek him out after he returned from a raid, to clean his wounds if any and make sure he was fed?

"I shall keep your family in my prayers to our Lord." He whispered, now standing before her. "My congregation will not be the same without you…. or your family."

She gazed shyly at him through those long eyelashes. "You are too kind, Bishop Heahmund."

"You have denied yourself for many years to look after your ailing father and the rest of your family. If the Pope heard of all your sacrifices for your family and our church, he would name you a Saint."

"I am nowhere worthy of sainthood. You tease me."

A smile drew his lips upward as he watched her. "Perhaps a little."

She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as she looked downward. It took all of his willpower not to lay a hand beneath her chin, the draw those beautiful eyes back to his own, to gaze upon her beauty, both inside and out, for longer. To ask her to never leave him.

But it was not his place. No matter how he felt for her.

"If it is not too bold of me…." She broke through his turbulent thoughts, her sweet voice trailing off as she toyed with one of her sleeves.

"Go on." He encouraged, heart hammering away inside of him.

"I made something for you. It's not much, but…. but it's just something to remember me by and know you will be in my prayers as well…. for your protection against the heathens." Quickly she dropped to her knees, digging in the basket by her feet.

The basket had gone unnoticed by him as his focus resided with soaking in these last few minutes with her. For he was unsure if the Lord's work would bring him to York. She swiftly pulled something out and held it out with both hands like an offering. His eyes momentarily widened before he reverently reached out and clasped it in his hand. It was a white, square kerchief, soft and pure. It was when he looked at the corners that he truly saw the beauty of it. A small cross was stitched in one corner and in the other opposite corner was a grouping of three small, periwinkle flowers.

"Thank you, y/n, truly." He returned his gaze to her, struggling to keep the awe out of his tone. "I shall cherish your gift as if the Virgin Mary herself gave it unto me."

She giggled, a coy smile on her face. "I would hope that she would bestow a better present for someone as holy as yourself."

"I would never cherish it as much as yours." He admitted with more candor than he should.

Her gaze snapped to his then darted away like a startled bird. A weighty, tense silence hung over them, drawing them closer yet apart simultaneously. For it was this blissful, torturous attraction that left them both spellbound, lost to reality in the presence of the other.

Unable to stay away a moment longer, he cupped her cheek with his calloused hand, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Bishop Heahmund…." She breathed out.

"Must I remind you to call me just Heahmund when we are alone?"

"Heahmund." She murmured, one of her hands coming to rest on the center of his chest. To anchor herself or him to this moment, he did not know.

Desire and longing colored the air around them. A tension that pushed their bodies closer without their awareness, until they could feel the breath of the other gliding across their lips. Something burned between them, this thing that remained unnamed for so long. Heahmund knew it was not lust. For that carnal sin was something he intimately knew and had used other women for, much to his disgrace. No, this was something far stronger, far more powerful, far more dangerous for both of them. For as the years passed, it never faded or wavered like a dying flame. It endured.

His gaze zeroed in on her bottom lip as his thumb caressed it with an almost-there touch. Her lips parted on a quiet gasp but she made no move to pull away. Those enchanting eyes beheld him with absolute trust. Something he was unworthy of.

After taking a deep breath, his hand traced down her neck, to her shoulder and down her arm to hold her hand leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brought her delicate hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles. Then, regretfully, he released her hand.

"Come, I shall escort you back to the city. You should not linger out here alone for too long." He said, taking a step back. Needing space before he did something indecent and unbecoming of his station.

"Thank you." She replied automatically, blinking rapidly for a second as if waking from a dream. A dream he wished he could have further explored, to share openly with her. Bending down, she grabbed her basket and held it against her hip.

They walked back through the woods in silence, more spoken in their actions and looks than could ever openly cross their lips. With each step, Heahmund silently beseeched his God that this encounter would not be their last. Although she was his sweetest temptation, his forbidden apple in the garden, he could not abandon her. It was for her that he picked up a sword to fight the heathens that invaded their land. With what might he had, he would see her protected and defended, that the purity she wore like a veil, the benevolence that dressed her daily, the pure goodness she radiated, would never be blemished.

Even if he never had the honor of holding her against his body, of tasting the sweetness of her lips, to hear the pleasured cry of his name from her mouth, to ever be more than just a man of God to her. It was worth it. For she was his angel.

*****

With eyes that could pierce stone in the raging fury bubbling beneath his skin, Heahmund stared at the city of York.

Captured by heathens.

Those damned sons of Ragnar Lothbrok.

Saxon warriors moved about him, none bothering him, either thinking he was strategizing how to reclaim the city or praying for the Lord's protection over His people as they beat back the devils.

What none knew, what no one could see, was the despair and wrath gnawing away in the bishop's mind. It took every ounce of his willpower to remain in the Saxon camp with the new King and his sons and not to scourge the city of the infestation of heathens. But to go seek for her. To find and protect her. Somehow in his heart, he knew she was down there. In what condition though, he dared not imagine.

When the two sons of Ragnar came in the night to talk of peace, his resolve almost broke. Questions of her coated his tongue like the sweetest of poisons, slowly driving him mad. Yet he swallowed them back down. Not just for fear of his fellow warriors learning of his unholy affections towards her; but fear if she was alive and the heathens realized the depth of his care for her. Surely it would bring about her doom. So when he slipped into their tent like a snake cornering its prey, his fists dirtied by the blood of the Ragnarssons, it was his silent promise to save her, that even from here he would protect her.

They must retake the city, to drive out the Vikings, for God and country and justice. Most importantly for him- they must retake the city so he could find her.

*****

"You call me heathen, but to me, I am godly. I live by the gods."

"There is only one God." Heahmund bit out. The chain around his neck was even more sharp than his tongue.

Ivar continued, arrogance dripping off each word. "But I have seen other gods. I have seen the Odin, the All-Father, with my own eyes."

"They are the devil's work. He conjures up demons and fallen angels to beguile us. And lead us into evil."

"What is evil?" The raven-haired heathen asked in a haughty undertone.

Heahmund sighed, dropping his chin back to his chest. His legs were growing weary beneath him, having been chained here for hours already and he saw no true reprieve in sight. "Slaughter of the innocent." He answered in a whisper.

"You slaughter when it suits you."

Rage filled the Bishop at the way this heathen turned his words, how he taunted with that arrogant smirk on his face, how he disrespected the one true God. "He who chooses to be heathen is not innocent." He shouted, pointing his finger in condemnation at the ungodly sinner beside him. Then for a moment he wondered if this was why he had been captured by the Danes. If this was all the Lord's mysterious work. His tone softened as he continued to stare at his captor. "But I could show you the ways of God, to salvation and eternal life."

But it was all in vain.

He chuckled darkly, almost as if shocked that the bishop would even try to convert him. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course. You are Ivar…. son of Ragnar Lothbrok. Many there are that fear you."

"But not you."

"No, I fear no man….no matter how wicked." Heahmund allowed the sneer to taint his voice at the end. For it was true. No matter the horrendous stories he heard about the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok, fear never sunk its claws into him. For he followed the Will of God.

There was only one reason alone that fear gripped him, tighter than a lover, slipped beneath his skin to momentarily poison his mind…. but that reason was gone now. Dead.

The two sat in silence for several minutes, a heathen and a bishop, lost in their own thoughts. Heahmund could not help but wonder as he eyed the young man, if this was all some bloody, gruesome game to him. Was he even capable of remorse? Fear? Mercy? Love? Or had the fires of hell already scourged them from his soul?

The shackles around his wrists grew heavier by the hour. The chain around his neck chaffed. The cold mud beneath him seeped into his trousers, slowly injecting a chill into his bones, amplified by the chains keeping him bound.

"I beseech thee, Lord. Save me or show me why I am here. Grant me Your mercy. Do not cast be aside into the darkness. Grant me Your light so I may see." He murmured to himself.

The sound of a door opening just off to the side of Ivar could be heard but Heahmund paid no mind. He knew his time on earth was dwindling, for how much longer would the heathen bother to keep him? Surely, he would be killed in a cruel and painful way. When he first took up the sword to defend his faith and his people against the Danes, he assumed that was how his life would end. On a battlefield somewhere, surrounded by blood and screams, with his cross upon his chest and sword in hand. Not like this. Not a prisoner to be tortured for amusement.

A soft voice hesitantly spoke up from behind Ivar. "My prince, your brother…."

That voice. Oh, that voice had haunted his dreams, but lately it had only been heard in his nightmares. She would beg for his help to save her, only to witness her dragged away or killed before his eyes, chains or ropes or fire keeping him imprisoned, unable to do more than scream her name. More than once he had jerked awake to find tears streaming down his cheeks.

Now his head jerked up, ears attuned, desperate to see or hear her again, to confirm she was alive and not just a hallucination. To know all his nightmares were wrong.

He prayed his nightmares were wrong.

Ivar beckoned her closer with an annoyed huff and a roll of his eyes. Then she appeared, as if from the mist. His fears confirmed. Her green dress was ripped and filthy. Her hair matted and unwashed. But it was the dark circles that lay beneath her dimmed eyes, the bruise on her cheek and the split lip that adorned her face which brought his rage to the surface, festering in his gut. His hands clenched into fists at the sight of her and images of what all she must have endured played in his mind.

The heathen snatched the cup from her outstretched hands, mumbling something in his own language. "Go." He arrogantly dismissed her with a wave of his hand as if she was some pest he detested.

As she turned to walk away, her eyes drifted over to Heahmund and she froze. Time stood still as their gazes locked. He watched as a series of emotions passed over her face- surprise, relief, concern, fear, worry- they all took their turn to shine from her eyes. He wondered if his own expression mirrored hers. Her name, that name that tasted like the sweetest of honey on his lips, danced on his tongue. How he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her out of his sight. To promise no one would ever hurt her again. To press his lips to hers tenderly. His chest constricted as he witnessed a single tear slip from her right eye, washing away a streak of grime on her cheek. His own tears burned in his eyes, threatening to betray him. Here she was. Alive. But mistreated by these heathens. Something he could never forgive.

"You know this…. priest, thrall?" Ivar's amused voice broke their staring, like a bucket of cold water suddenly thrown on them.

She jerked, brought back to the here and now, that her and Heahmund were not alone. Wordlessly, she lowered her head and nodded.

"Ah, I see." Ivar's shrewd blue eyes jumped between the two as his smirk widened. "You may go to him. I will allow it for now. Ah! And here, give him this." He held the untouched cup out to her.

Hesitantly, she reached out and took it, as if expecting it to get thrown in her face at the last minute. Keeping her gaze downcast, she walked the few steps to stand before Heahmund. Once more, she peered over to the side at Ivar, silently requesting his permission before proceeding.

"Let him drink! I am certain he is quite…. thirsty." The heathen chuckled, playing with his bottom lip.

"Y/n…" Heahmund started quietly but she interrupted him.

"Drink, please." Immediately, she brought the cup to his lips and carefully helped him to drink. At the slow pace she allowed the water to flow, it was perfect to quench his thirst but not fast enough he would choke on it. A skill she must have learned from the many times she was forced to take care of her ailing father. The whole time, he locked his gaze on her face, refusing to look away for even a moment. For fear of her vanishing. For fear of missing even a second of this cherished time in her presence. Even if he was bound in chains like a common criminal.

"Are you well?" He asked once she pulled the empty cup away from his mouth, keeping his voice low for some resemblance of privacy under the heathen's scrutinizing gaze.

She peeked at Ivar out of the corner of her eye before whispering back. "I'm alive."

"Are they treating you well?"

Her gaze dropped to her hands, clutching the cup.

And her silence burned through Heahmund like a wildfire. He knew it was foolish to ask as soon as he uttered the question. The evidence on her face was proof enough. But he had hoped for a different answer. Wanted a different answer. And the truth ate away at him like leprosy. For chained here…. a prisoner…. a prize…. he could do nothing to save her. To protect her.

His nightmare coming to pass.

He swallowed thickly, emotions clogging his throat. "Stay strong, y/n. The Lord knows the challenges we face and will give us strength to endure. We are not forgotten."

She nodded, hastily wiping away another tear that slipped down her cheek. "What…. what about you? What will happen to you?"

Her concern for him warned his soul more than a fire and hot meal ever could. Even amidst her circumstances, she worried for him. She cared about him. Heaven certainly lost an angel when she was born onto this earth. For she was far too good to not be one of the Lord's divine beings.

"I'm deciding if I want to keep him alive," Ivar interrupted, tone all together smug and cocky, "or crucify him, like your god. A fitting ending for his priest."

She inhaled sharply, eyes widening at the revelation.

Heahmund wanted to comfort her, but words failed him as he gazed upon her. For his life was no longer in his own hands. A fate he despised. Before he could speak words that would hopefully bring her some solace, the heathen spoke again.

"Thrall, come here." Ivar commanded. She walked over to him with visible trepidation, cup still clutched in her hands. Instantly, he grabbed her wrist when she was close enough, the movement as sharp and fast as a viper. The cup dropped and bounced on the ground as she gasped. In the next moment he yanked her down to kneel before him, a soft cry slipping from her lips that seemed to spur him on, a malicious smile forming on his face. So reminiscent of a hungry wolf cornering a young lamb, the taste of blood already tainting the air. An allure the wolf feasted on shamelessly.

Heahmund could taste iron in his mouth from how hard he bit his tongue to keep from demanding her release. He could only watch helplessly as this devil toyed with her.

"Hmmm…. what is your name, thrall?"

She said, voice barely above a whisper, eyes firmly planted on the dirt. "Y/n."

Complacently, the heathen tipped her chin up, staring into her eyes for long enough she began to tremble. He chuckled, moving her face side to side and scanning her body like examining an item for sale at the market. "And who owns you now?"

"Ha…. Haakon, my prince."

"Ah. Haakon. A good warrior by our people. But I have heard he is not so kind to his thralls. Hmm?" He stated, but this time his smug gaze was directed at Heahmund, waiting for a reaction. Waiting to see what his latest prize would do.

At his statement, she flinched and it felt like a flaming sword was driven through Heahmund's gut. He made no appeal to mask his hatred nor fury, his eyes hard as stone as he met the heathen's unnatural blue eyes. In his mind, he swore to himself that he would never forget the name she spoke with such a mixture of fear and despair. Somehow, he would kill this man. God, help him.

Ivar grinned, still focused on his prisoner, even as he traced a finger over her split bottom lip, tears springing forth from her eyes. "Maybe I'll buy you from him. What do you think?"

She just stared at the ground, body trembling. Completely submissive. Entirely surrendered.

"You may go. Tell my brother I will join him soon." Ivar said, releasing her chin.

Carefully she scrambled to her feet and took a hasty step back. Her watery gaze flickered over to Heahmund's, meeting his eyes. Oh, how he wished these chains no longer held him. He would slaughter every Dane in York in holy recompense for the abuse she endured. He would shield her with his body, keeping her close until the fear bled from her like poison from a wound, until she was the sweet, vibrant woman he knew.

"I said leave, thrall."

As if startled out of a dream, she jumped at Ivar's shout. Then spun around on her heel and disappeared the way she had come. The cup laid forgotten on the ground, having rolled away.

The bishop dropped his head to his chest. What was left of his heart slowly eroded away inside of him. Why must she be made to suffer at the hands of these devils? Was this why the Lord allowed him to be captured? To save her?

"Y/n…." The heathen rolled her name on his tongue, voice inquisitive with his following question. "What is she to you?"

The Saxon remained silent. He owed his captor nothing. The heathen had no right to say her blessed name, let alone touch her. He was evil, darkness, something to be destroyed. To touch y/n, her perfect soul, was a crime against all that was holy and good.

"Ah, you act like she is nothing but I could see it in your eyes. You want her. Like a man wants a beautiful woman. But more than that…. she means something to you. So, answer my question or maybe I'll call her back and slit her throat in front of you."

Heahmund licked his lips, debating what to say. "She is the Virgin Mary."

"She's a virgin?" Ivar scoffed. "I doubt that's the truth anymore."

"No," he snapped, glaring at Ivar before turning back to stare straight ahead. "She is holy and pure. She is the epitome of benevolence, something you would never understand. She is a soft breeze on a scorching day, the spring rain come to bring new life. She is the candle of fond memories, keeping away the dark thoughts that threatened to cloud my mind. She is…. y/n."

"You love her."

"How could I not?" He sighed, for that was the truth. No matter how hard he tried, prayed for deliverance, she had wormed her way into his heart and planted herself there like an oak tree.

"Well, if Haakon owns her, then she will be leaving soon to journey to Norway with us." Ivar stared at him for a moment before looking away. They sat in silence for several minutes before Ivar laughed and shifted from a sitting position. "Prepare yourself, Bishop Heahmund, you are coming on a journey with us."

"I am already on a journey." He called out, voice unwavering.

"Aren't we all."

He watched the heathen crawl away like an overgrown snake, deceptive and cunning, wondering what this journey meant for him. What it meant for her. Closing his eyes, shutting out his surroundings, he focused on the feeling of her kerchief tucked away under his tunic. Close to his heart.

*****

The crowd jeered around him, a sound beating against his mind like a hammer. The stench of the ocean clogged his nostrils, the fish guts spilled on the docks and ground, the masses of unrighteous bodies pressing closer to have their chance to spit at him. For once, he was grateful that he did not understand their language so his ears would remain untainted by their insults and taunts.

The flaxen-haired Ragnarsson led the parade with Heahmund being the center of attention. Like a spectacle for all to see. A large blond Viking pulled on the chains binding his hands, chuckling at making Heahmund stumble drunkenly to keep his feet beneath him in the unsteady mud. The bishop spat out a mouthful of blood onto the mud. The cut on the inside of his lip a courtesy from a punch to the mouth by the brutish Viking who currently held the chains.

Stubbornly, he yanked on the chain binding him, refusing to let himself be dragged around like some stray mongrel. The brute growled at the Saxon and gave a strong pull, disrupting Heahmund's already unstable footing. In the next moment, he found himself face-first in the revolting mud. The cheers of the crowd exploded around him to new heights at his predicament.

Through sheer determination and a refusal to appear weak to these ungodly wretches, he rose back to his feet. Will unbroken. Though he walked through the valley of death, he refused to fear the evil around him. The Lord would provide a way. Somehow, he would be delivered. Carefully he wiped the mud from his face on his sleeve.

Once back on his feet, he could see Ivar sitting at a nearby table. Although from the way he reclined, he acted more as if it was a throne. The infuriating smug look on his face as he met Heahmund's gaze. All resemblance of vulnerability and unveiled candor from the prior night was gone. Replaced with the arrogant warlord who sentenced people to death with laughter on his lips.

All night his mind wrestled with their conversation from the prior night. How could he fight for this godless heathen? Surely the Lord would smite him for that? Even if in the fighting he only killed more heathens. Was he not also a man of peace like the Lord Jesus Christ? Which was more important right now? Which one was stronger in times like these…. the olive branch or the sword?

He walked with confidence until he noticed y/n standing just behind Ivar. His feet faltered for a moment, shocked to see her. Since their encounter in York, he had only snatched a glimpse of her as he was being loaded onto the boats. His mind wandered to her fate more than he cared to admit. There were many times as he sat alone, he gently toyed with the kerchief she made for him, touching the periwinkle flower sewed onto it. His thoughts on her and all his regrets.

Now his eyes quickly scanned her, noting the different dress she wore. Something rough and bland he had noticed other slaves wearing. She appeared no worse. The bruise on her cheek was gone, the split lip healed. Her hands clasped before her as if waiting for instruction as her eyes followed him. When they finally met, a flood of relief and concern passed between them. For no words needed to be spoken to understand the predicament they both were in. Both of their fates were no longer in their control, only in the Lord's and their captors'.

He could not help but wonder why she was here? To witness his shame? His death? What game was Ivar playing?

As he watched her, his mind returned to his short burst of despair earlier. How he had called out to the Lord for deliverance. But if the Lord delivered him from the hands of these heathens…. would the Lord deliver her also? But did not the Lord send angels to protect the Virgin Mary as she carried Jesus in her womb? How could he then abandon y/n in her hour of need? For it was unthinkable to leave her alone in their clutches. And seeing her now, dressed as a slave, at the beck and call of the blood-thirsty Ragnarsson, Heahmund would rather slit his own throat than leave her alone.

Determination saturating his veins, he tried to move closer towards Ivar but as he took a step, the brutish Viking held him back with an animalistic grunt.

Ivar waved a hand. "Let him approach, Haakon."

For a moment, Heahmund froze, his blood boiling at the name. This name he swore he would always remember. He turned to stare at the brute with a newfound understanding, fury a living thing beneath his skin. This was the man who mistreated the one most precious to him. An unforgivable sin. A heinous crime. And with the mischievous glint in Ivar's eyes, the bishop knew the prince had purposefully orchestrated for them to meet. Tearing his fiery gaze away from the brutish Viking, he walked over to stand before Ivar like a convict awaiting judgment.

"Shhhh…." Ivar hushed the crowd, his voice carrying with an air of authority. "Now will decide if you fight for us." Grabbing the knife out of the table from beside him, he continued. "Or whether I kill you." He paused, pressing the knife to Heahmund's chest. When he spoke next, his voice was low, a harsh truth only to be heard between them. "Nothing is keeping you alive but me."

The tip of the knife pressed against Heahmund's jerkin, not a threat but a promise depending on the bishop's choice. With his quiet sigh, he peered past Ivar to look at y/n one more time. One of her hands covered her mouth, eyes wide with fear. Only now was Heahmund able to see the red marks on her wrist, marking of chains, ones he knew he carried also.

Without hesitation, the Saxon warrior-priest whispered back, "If I fight for you, y/n goes free."

Ivar leaned closer, smirk growing on his lips. "If you fight for me…. I will give her to you."

"Hmmm…." Heahmund's gaze dropped down to the knife still touching his sternum for a second before returning to meet Ivar's penetrating gaze. "Why don't you give me the knife?"

The manic excitement in Ivar's eyes should have scared Heahmund, but right now he needed blood on his hands. With a wicked grin, Ivar handed the knife over, as if already knowing what was to occur next. He accepted the knife with a huff, surprised Ivar gave it to him. Both smiled darkly at one another, the draw and lust for blood staining their lips. Revenge- a language they both spoke fluently.

Slowly Heahmund turned around, the knife pressed to his sternum like he was about to take his own life. Aware of the crowd's eyes on him, he stepped away from Ivar, back into the street. Closer to the brute Viking.

Haakon began yelling in his thickly accented English. "Die! Are you afraid?" He sneered, getting right into the bishop's face. "Do it! Coward. Do it!"

Without a second thought, Heahmund slid the knife home into the Viking's neck. Blood spurting out, coating his hand gripping the knife. As the heathen gurgled, he spat blood onto the heathen's face. The blood on his face was for the punch Heahmund received from him. The knife, though, that was for her. His gift to her. To deliver her from the abuse of the ungodly. He could see death sinking its claws into the Viking, latching itself onto the man's soul to drag him to Hell. With that he let the man drop limply to the mud and threw the knife to the ground nearby.

He gazed over the silenced crowd with his piercing eyes, weaponless once again, and curious if one would fight him for revenge for Haakon. They stared back at him, a mixture of shock and anger on many of their faces. A slow clap and madden laughter startled him. He turned back to see Ivar clapping with an unhinged smile.

"He will fight with us!" Ivar yelled, arms outstretched as if in victory.

The crowd cheered. An example of how fickle a mob can be. As he arrived, being led like an animal to sacrifice, they cheered for his death. Now they cheered for his sword, to fight alongside him.

Suddenly a form slammed into him, almost knocking him off his feet. He tensed, prepared to fight until he looked down to see y/n burying her face against his chest, hands gripping his tunic. Her body trembled against his, muffled sobs reached his ears as she clung to him like a lifeline. The bishop lifted his gaze to meet Ivar's, who leaned forward with a side smirk, eyes intently watching the two. As their gazes met, Ivar made a subtle motion with his hand, a quick wave, as if telling him to accept his prize.

Careful because of the many eyes still on them and not wishing to cause her harm, he brought his bound hands around her, pulling her closer against him. Embracing her in a way he had only fantasized about. Using his body as a shield, blood staining his hands.

"You are safe now." He murmured against the top of her head, a storm of emotion whirling in his heart and mind. "You are safe, I promise. I will not let anyone hurt you again. I am here, my angel."

Silently, she looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks, washing away what grime had been on them. But it was the relief and adoration in her eyes that made him freeze. How she beheld him as if a miracle or answer to her prayers. A reverence in her gaze but also joy intermingled.

His heart constricted in his chest; air momentarily cut off by the strong emotion stirring within him. For he knew with every fiber of his being as he gazed down at her, he would do anything to protect her. Would travel any sea to keep her. Fight any army with just his sword by his side. Even sell his own soul to the devil to see her safe.

Glancing up at Ivar and the manic smile on his mouth, Heahmund wondered if he had done just that.

#sophies500 #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #vikings ivar #bishop heahmund #heahmund #bishop heahmund x reader #heahmund x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar's heathen army #vikings imagine #bishop heahmund imagine #mzwrites

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alaynaantics · 3 years

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A Feminine Touch-- Part 1

(( Yeah stuff about the cartoon Regular Show will now haunt my page until I feel like it. I’m binge watching this again on Hulu soooo yep yep yep. So without further ado I present to you a Regular Show Fanfiction Featuring Y/N and her friend Dakota.

Regular show is a cartoon network original not my own work obvi.

Enjoy ))

A Feminine Touch

Part 1

“Chick’s ain’t nothing bro!” Muscle Man started “I totally would’ve won that free t-shirt if that chick with the pigtails shut her mouth.”

Muscle Man continued to unfold into great detail of the event that had recently occurred. Earlier that evening himself and High Five Ghost participated in an eating challenge at Cheezers and were a hairs length away from winning. However, before Muscle Man could finish his last couple wings, his female competitor caught him using an illegal eating technique which caused him to be immediately disqualified.

The event left a sour taste in his mouth for the remainder of the day which led him to express his anger to Mordecai and Rigby who had also experienced a similar scenario themselves.

“Ugh! I know right! It feels like girls have it out for us today.” Rigby exclaimed, he leaned back on seat and took a firm swig of the soda he swiped from the snack bar.

“Hm, Hm, Totally dude. Earlier today me and Rigby saw this girl drop her purse on the sidewalk and we tried to help her but then she freaked out saying we tried to harass her or something. Almost got us arrested!” Mordecai spoke with a high level of irritation alongside Rigby who nodded in agreement.

“Sounds like she should stop taking birth control and start taking some chill pills! WOOOOOOOOAH!” Mordecai and Rigby call out in union, leaving Muscle Man and High Fives in a hysterical fit of laughter.

“But seriously guys we should get back to work before Benson finds us slacking off.” Mordecai said as he stood to return to his assigned task as the others followed in his footsteps. Not one man took notice of the figure that hid near the snack bar, every word spoken was heard by keen ears not about to be forgotten any time soon.

~~~

“Okay, Everyone listen up there are a few important announcements I have for today so I need everyone to pay close attention, I'm looking at you Rigby.” Benson voiced at the brunette raccoon which caused him to roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Now first order of businesses we have a CEO visiting the park today for a special proposal!” With new information everyone voiced their excitement between one another but before another word could be spoken a woman appeared from out of thin air. This caused everyone to halt with their chatter and focus on the strange individual before them.

“Ah! Diane, welcome my name is Benson and I'm the Park manager and these are my employee’s Skips, Pops-” unfortunately, Benson never finished naming the rest of his crew once the hand of Diane, the CEO, placed itself right in front of his face.

“I don't need names of your boyish workers who reek of sweat and testosterone.” She spoke with a heavy Russian accent. For obvious reasons this caused the guys to jeer at Diane with anger.

“GAH you girls are all the same! Always complaining and hating on guys when in all actuality it's your fault you're so uptight in the first place! You-you bitch!” Rigby blurted out to Diane who stood unfazed before him.

“Yeah, I get that you’re this big fancy CEO but that doesn't give you the right to pick on us because we're guys!” Mordecai joined Rigby against Diane alongside Muscle Man who joined in due to Rigby’s outburst.

“Yeah, you're just stuck up because no man would wanna hit that! Bahaha am I right Fives?” Questioned Muscleman who leaned over to his ghostly best friend for a high five. What should have been a celebratory high five in his eyes turned out to be the breaking point for Diane.

“Wow” she muttered her heavy accent now non existent “looks like I am in the right to discipline the lot of you.”

Diane shook her head in disappointment before she turned her head to the sky and released a powerful shriek that shook the earth to its core. The sound of the waves created a blast power so great it caused all fragile objects within a ninety mile radius to shatter into dust.

Luckily for Benson Skips protected his head from the soundwave which delayed the damage that would have caused his immediate demise.

“Run!” Shouted Skips but his words were left with no prevail due to massive tree roots that sprouted from the earth that continued to wrap themselves around their ankles in a viper clasp. Diane's eyes shined an envious green before the glow of her hues caused momentary blindness to the park employee’s. Their vision was temporarily impaired even when they cower beneath her gaze they could not escape the wrath of an angry woman. Suddenly, the tremors and screaming all came to a halt that left everything in dead silence.

Skips was the first to uncover his eyes but once his gaze settled upon the being in front of his he cursed beneath his breath. Since Skips rarely cursed in dire situations the other park employees opened their eyes and were not met with Diane but with a giant doe.

“Workers of this so-called Park heed my words!” A voice roared from above.

“It is I, Mother Nature! the Creatress of this planet you house yourselves upon. For centuries I have done nothing but nurture and provide the very resources that give you the very breath you take. So care take why do you believe I am here man?” She questioned, her voice stern yet diligent such as a mother would speak to a mere child.

Benson was the first fool to speak his mind.

“...To make a deal with the park?”

This displeased Mother Nature greatly, so much in fact that she struck lightning near Benson in a slight fit of rage for his incompetence. This caused Benson to shriek and therefore leap into Skips’s arms who skillfully caught him.

“No you blubbering fool! I stand before you today because of how you men view the actions of women! Throughout this disastrous day I have bore witness to everything shorter than a candle’s lick of compassion towards women. Only for heinous comments to follow soon after those encounters from these treacherous snakes you so call friends. Mordecai, Rigby, Muscle Man, and High-five Ghost since you’re so unappreciative of the gifts my kin bestow upon you I shall reap this land from this earth! And take you along with it!”

As she finished her words Mother Nature cast her arms amongst the park grounds leaching the essence and beauty of the land within her grasp. A bitter breeze ripped through the sky that ripped away any vegetation the park acquired through the years. Benson looked around in horror as he witnessed his park being destroyed for the up tenth time within the past few days. His gumballs turn a fierce shade of red as he turned to his two workers who latched onto the house for stability.

“MORDECAI AND RIGBY FIX THIS MESS OR YOUR FIRED!!” Benson screamed across the house lot where he too dangled from the neighboring park light pole.

“Yeah Benson like we totally know how to fix this!” Rigby yelled from afar using sarcasm directed entirely at Benson.

“Yeah Man even if we knew how to fix this I don't know if she’ll listen to us!” Mordecai chimed in next to his best friend a look of confusion stapled upon his features. Benson could feel the strength in his grip depleting by the second and by the looks of his surroundings if they don't act accordingly they won't have anything to hold onto much longer. So, he mustered up whatever professionalism he had left to make an offer in an attempt to save his workers.

“Skips! Skips! I’m begging you please find a way to get us out of this, please Skips help us!” Benson pleaded to his immortal companion, hot tears threatening to overflow and stream down his face. Skips sighed in defeat knowing that it was inevitable that he himself would have to fix everything this time. The white haired man took a deep breath and bet everything on his next words.

“How about we cut a deal?!” Skips yelled aloud and luckily his booming howl reached the Goddesses fluffy ears. Mother Nature hummed with interest allowing the discord to cease momentarily to hear the rest of Skips offer.

“Very well Sir Skips I will adhere to your offer and induct a challenge of my choosing. Understood?”

Skips nodded then continued to hear out her offer.

“I will give yourself and your companions precisely one hour to hire two female workers to be a permanent part of your team. These two individuals will be of my choosing, however, it will be up to you seven to decipher who these chosen ones are within a group of many others. If you hire the correct girls I will spare you and the park but choose wrong and I will drain the essence of your life back into the earth's crust. Do we have a deal?” Her words were sweet but laced with venomous intent as her outstretched hand dangled in anticipation.

This challenge was going to be difficult. They knew this, they all know that the chance of them finding the correct pair is like finding a needle in a haystack. Nevertheless, they all knew what was at stake and with an unspoken unison they all shared a glance with one another in a silent agreement to accept her challenge.

They each stood and placed their hand atop the tip of Mother Nature's massive finger, giving a firm squeeze as a sign of agreement.

“Deal.”

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the-other-art-blog · 3 years

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Jo’s Boys: Chapter 2 Parnassus (Part 2) May and Amy

As I said on Part 1 of these chapter post, the following quote says so much about Amy, but also relates to May.

...for she was one of those who prove that women can be faithful wives and mothers without sacrificing the special gift bestowed upon them for their own development and the good of others.

May married before Louisa started writing this book. It looks like Louisa was very interested in how May balanced family and work. At the time women had two options, either they focused on their careers or they get married. Trying to combine them seemed crazy.

There were a few literary works addressing this issue at the time. In 1877 Elizabeth Stuart published The Story of Avis which depicted a woman who gave up her art after getting married. Louisa read this book and warned May about it, but her sister was determined to prove those thoughts wrong. She writes,

‘I mean to combine painting and family, and show that it is a possibility if left alone.’

This blessed lot is mine, and from my purpose I shall never be diverted... I am free to follow my profession, I have a strong arm to protect, a tender love to cherish me and I have no fears for the future.

And indeed she succeeded those two years of marriage. In fact, 1879 proved to be one of May’s most prolific and successful years of her career. It’s such a shame May died just weeks after giving birth when her career was going so well.

To quote that same letter, “May decided wisely”, and Amy too.

There’s the idea that Amy stopped pursuing an artistic career because Louisa was jealous of how easy things came for May. She wasn’t wrong. May was incredibly lucky and there was always someone willing to help her. And as the baby of the family, she was often shielded from the hardships of life. So if Louisa was bitter, I wouldn’t blame her (although she pampered May too). And if this were true, I think her vision of May changed by the time she wrote this book.

I think Louisa gave Amy this development as part of her curiosity and admiration towards her own sister. 🥰 🥰 🥰

Come to think if it, Amy never really stopped drawing. After rejecting Fred, Louisa tells us that Amy has a quieter trip and that she spends her time sketching ( faceless knights in shinny armor or couples dancing, but that’s another story 😉 ). And in the last chapter, Amy is making a bust of baby Bess. Of course Amy would never drop her art, even if she tried. It’s such a fundamental part of who she is that it’s impossible for her to stay away from it. It defines her and differentiates her from everyone else around her.

Now, long has been discussed about May’s approval or dislike towards the character of Amy. The only direct quote I have found from May about Amy is a letter to Alf Whitman where she refers to her book counterpart as “horrid stupid”. She might be referring to Amy’s selfishness and vanity, as she recognizes she was the same once but now she is changing (like Amy did). However, this was before Part 2 was published.

Regardless, I am convinced that May would have loved how Amy’s life turned out. May was an incredibly generous person who dreamed of offering art to everyone, no matter the social class nor the color of their skin. She was always willing to help a fellow artist. She gifted Daniel Chester French his first sculpting tools, yeah THE Daniel Chester who sculpted the Lincoln Memorial! (In fact, he wrote the preface for May’s Memorial by Caroline Ticknor in 1928. He was always grateful for all the support and encouragement May gave him.)

Another thing that Amy and May have in common is the criticism towards their marriages. Many people don’t consider May feminist enough because she didn’t participated in the suffragette movement, she got married and she expressed how much she loved her domestic life. Who cares if she openly criticized the art system and spoke openly about the unequal opportunities that women have in artistic education. Even less, if she rejected multiple suitors until she found the right one, someone who would love her and respect her career.

In one of her letter, she said,

‘the lonely artistic life that once satisfied me seems the most dreary in the world’

Many people judges her and claims that she succumbed to the patriarchy. Really, what May was calling “dreary” was the lonely life she had. She was in Europe away from the rest of her family, she couldn’t even say goodbye to Marmee when she died. She was depressed for a while and felt guilty for not coming back home. The only person who was able to cheer her up was Ernest (like Laurie did with Amy 😊 ). She could go wherever she wanted because she had nothing attaching her to a certain place. But May always dreamed of marriage and a family. In a previous letter she says,

If mine can’t be a happy domestic life, as such as I have longed for and prayed for, perhaps the good God meant me for great things in other ways.

Just months before meeting Ernest, she still dreamed of romance! So sue her if she was happy with her husband and her domestic life. That was her dream.

I haven’t finished reading The Story of Avis, but by the synopsis, it seems that part of the problem was Avis’ husband and his lack of support towards her artistic career. This is an issue that neither May nor Amy had.

Ernest was one in a million. He never represented an obstacle to her career, on the contrary, he was an enthusiast. In the end, May got her Laurie 🥰 🥰 🥰

Now that I think of, Louisa followed the destiny of the real-life people in her characters. Beth, John and Marmee died in the novels because Lizzy, John and Marmee died in real life. However, she kept Amy alive.

Nobody expected May’s death. She had had such luck in life that it felt impossible for it to stop.

In various letters, May had asked Louisa to visit her in Meudon (where she lived with Ernest). Unfortunately, Louisa couldn’t go. There were responsibilities at home and her health was a big issue and she didn’t want to be a burden.

May’s death was devastating for Louisa. In one of her diary entries she remembers the last time she saw her, waving goodbye from the ship to London. Then she writes,

A lonely time with all away. My grief meets me when I come home, and the house is full of ghosts.

To me that phrase is incredibly personal. My grandparents and two of my aunts lived together. In the last years they’ve all been passing away and now the house that once was full of life is abandoned.

Louisa apologized in the preface of this book for writing little about Amy,

Since the original has died, it has been impossible for me to write of her,...

Indeed, I would have love to read more about Amy, but these first two pages about her are so important and tell us so much about her, her marriage and her career.

Maybe Louisa had already written this chapter before May’s death. Who knows. Maybe Louisa couldn’t bear another loss in her fictional family too. If May was gone, at least Amy would live and have a happy long life.

#there's a latter where Anna refers to May's 75th love affair #it migt be an exageration #but it does show how popular May was #little women #louisa may alcott #jo's boys #may alcott nieriker #amy march #amy laurence #ernest nieriker #may x ernest #amy x laurie

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sweetness47 · 3 years

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The Sleeping Beauty

Pairing Sam x Reader

@spnfluffbingo square filled: fairy tale AU

Warnings: nothing really, I don’t think anyways. Implied smut at the end? Mild violent scenes. Nothing too descriptive anywhere.

Final word count: 1924

Sam brought his arm around YN, smiling as she settled into his warm embrace. They were just hanging around, channel flipping, enjoying the quiet evening. Dean was at the bar, and Cas had gone with him, it was almost like a date, but neither would admit such a thing.

YN shivered as Sam traced along her arm, the touch so feathery soft, yet spoke volumes to the thoughts going through his mind. One of the things she liked about Sam was his quiet demeanor, the way caressed her with a mere look, undressed her with his eyes. The thoughts that danced across his beautiful hazel orbs every time he looked at her, like she was a goddess, and he worshipped the ground she walked on, they made her feel like she could do anything as long as she had him.

They gazed at each other, lost in their silent caresses, too entranced to notice the lights flicker. There was a storm outside, so it would have been shrugged off as coincidence, until the TV went wonky, the picture flitting off and on, landing briefly on the screen of death, then landing on a movie.

“Sam, weren’t we watching Food network? How did we end up on Disney?”

Sam glanced at YN, then at the tv. Frowning, he looked back at his love. “No idea, must be some weird effect from the storm. Anyways, its one of your favorites. We can watch it if you want.”

He knew her well. Sleeping Beauty was indeed one of her all time favorite Disney classics. She was a sucker for romance and brave heroes.

YN snuggled closer to Sam. “Ok. Can you turn it up a bit though? It’s really quiet.”

No sooner did Sam touch the remote, a brilliant white light lit the entire room, and when it had subsided, Sam and YN were no longer there.

YN woke feeling strange, but she couldn’t figure out why. She also had no clue as to why she could hear birds chirping and smell fresh forest air. It was that moment her eyes flew open, noting she wasn’t in her bed, neither was she in her house.

In fact, she was most definitely not in her realm.

She was a cartoon, and not just any cartoon, but she was in fact, Princess Aurora.

But where was Sam? How did they get there? And how on Earth were they ever going to get home?

Sam woke standing in a stable, beside a horse. A cartoon horse. Running over to the fresh bucket of water, he glanced at his reflection and was shocked to see he was a cartoon. He was in Sleeping Beauty. He was Prince Philip, actually.

Maybe, YN was Aurora.

But how did this happen? He remembered when he had been transported with Dean and Cas into Scooby Doo, so maybe this was the same kind of deal. As long as they played out the story, they should be returned to their world at the end.

He just had to make sure he didn’t die, and that YN was unharmed as well. He’d only seen this particular movie a couple of times, but he knew the basics. It looked like they had come into the movie about midway, where Phillip is getting ready to go riding in the forest, and meets Aurora for the first time.

He saddled Samson and easily swung up onto the horse. He paced his ride to a slow trot, enjoying the natural sounds of the forest, but also listening for the musical voice that would lead him to YN/Aurora. He had heard her sing to many of the Disney films they’d watched over the years, and knew she could carry a tune fairly well. His opinion might be somewhat bias but in his heart he knew she was more than capable of playing this role.

YN, having seen this movie many times, played the role of Briar Rose perfectly. She was sent by the fairies to pick berries in the woods. She strolled along the paths, feeling the grass tickle her feet as she walked. For fun, she decided to see if she could really sing like the princess in the film, so she began humming, then quietly singing lines about animals having someone to love, yet she remained single. Her heart hoped the Prince was Sam, because he was who she desired the most.

As expected, the lovebirds finally find each other. Sam practically leaps off the horse and catches YN in his arms as she meets him halfway. They dance along the grassy meadow and sing together, gazing into each other’s eyes lovingly.

They know they can’t stay there, or run away together, if they want to go back to their own world, so Sam and YN reluctantly part ways, promising to finish the story so they can live happily ever after. Together in each other’s arms, forever.

YN returns to the cottage in the glen and finds the surprise dress and birthday cake her guardians have made. They then tell her the truth of her identity, and YN feels her heart break as she pretends to be distraught over the thought of never seeing the young man she met in the forest. Dressed in the beautiful blue gown, and covered in a blue cloak, the three fairies carefully lead the princess to her home and to her parents.

Once there, they lead her to a secluded room so they can keep her safe till the sun has set, thereby foiling the prophecy Maleficent had bestowed upon Aurora when she was a baby. The three of them combined their magic to create a beautiful crown to place upon YN’s head. She looked at the golden tiara and broke down into sobs, her head resting upon her arm on her dresser as she shed tears for her beloved.

When the fairies left her alone for a few minutes, YN knew what would come next, but the trance caused by the green orb took away all her sorrows, but also took away her free will. It was like watching from outside her body. Her mind was being controlled, but she still had her own consciousness. Ever so slowly, she climbed the steps to the top tower, where her fate awaited.

The princess entered the room the orb had coaxed her to, and walked toward the spinning wheel that stood in the middle of the floor. She could hear a menacing voice telling her to touch the spindle of the spinning wheel, but she hesitated briefly, then as the voice in her head grew more demanding, she could no longer resist.

The last thing she remembered was pricking her finger on the sharp point, her body crumpling to the ground as a deep slumber overtook her.

Sam made his way to the cottage he’d been ‘invited to’ by YN, but he couldn’t exactly remember what would happen next. He knew Phillip would get captured by Maleficent, and that it would be soon, but when he knocked on the cottage and stepped in, he wasn’t prepared to be overcome so quickly. The evil hordes quickly tied him up and took him away, his anger rising as the evil witch laughed at him.

Chained to the dungeon wall in Maleficent’s home, he listened to her goad him, telling him she would release him in 100 years to rescue his love, then laughing at him as he struggled to break free and kill her.

Once she left him, the three fairies, who had found Aurora lying on the ground in the tower, snuck inside the forbidden mountain where the evil witch resided, and freed Phillip from the chains. Bestowing upon him the Shield of Faith and the Mighty Sword of Truth, they led him to freedom and, after freeing Samson, they helped him escape.

Maleficent heard the commotion and was beyond angry at the incompetence of her minions. She sent a cursed wall of thorns to stop Sam from getting to the castle, but the sword he’d been gifted with cut the magical weeds with ease. He would take on the world if it meant rescuing his beloved YN.

When the thorns failed to stop him, Maleficent appeared before Phillip and spoke these words, “Now shall you deal with me, O Prince, and all the powers of hell!”

With a maniacal laugh, the witch changed, grew, and there before Sam stood a large black dragon. Sam charged at the dragon, and was met with a fiery blast. The shield easily protected him, and Phillip jumped off his horse to fight the great beast. Maleficent snapped her jaws at him, breathed fire at him, but the prince remained strong and vigilant.

When a rather powerful blast knocked Phillip’s shield away, Maleficent laughed and reveled in her almost victory. He wouldn’t survive now that he had no shield. But while she laughed, the three good fairies enchanted the Sword of truth:

O Sword of Truth, fly swift and sure,

That evil die and good endure!

When they finished the spell, Sam threw the sword at the large dragon, piercing her heart. With a great cry, the evil Maleficent fell to her death, never to darken the kingdom again.

With her death, the thorns and fire disappeared, allowing Sam to enter the castle and seek out YN. He reached the room where the fairies had laid her down on a soft bed, and bent down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. YN woke, smiling as she gazed into her lover’s eyes.

They made their way to the grand ball room and paid respect to the king and queen, YN rushing to embrace her ‘parents’. Then the prince and princess danced and shared a kiss, and lived happily ever after.

As they kissed, lights flashed, blinding them, and they held on to each other, hoping they were going back home.

Sam and YN opened their eyes and found themselves back in the living room, the tv back on the Food channel and everything back to normal. They remembered everything though. Sam cleared his throat, and looked at YN.

“That was interesting.” He commented.

“It was, definitely, and kinda fun.” She replied.

“It got me thinking YN. I don’t want to waste any more time just dating you. I love you. I want to marry you, have children with you, grow old with you. Say you’ll be mine.”

YN felt her eyes sting with happy tears. “Sam, I can’t imagine any part of my future where you are not in it. You complete me, and you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world. I love you so much, and I can’t wait to marry you, grow old with you, and have children with you.” She giggled as she said the last part. “Speaking of…I was going to tell you tonight anyways, but, um, we’ve already started the having children part.”

Sam’s eyes widened as her words caught up with him. “Really?”

The biggest grin she’d ever seen adorned his face as he joyously swung her around, planting kisses all over her face and neck. Picking her up bridal style, he took her to their room where he spent most of the night showing her how much he loved her.

@legion1993 @drkcnry67 @lyarr24 @idreamofplaid

#spnfluffbingo #fairy tale #sam winchester x reader

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rinasspookystories · 3 years

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Fish Bones

I've heard a number of stories about gifts being bestowed upon kind hearted individuals. Trees, animals, mystical beings...just to name a few. This case, in particular, involves a young girl and gifts she receives from the bones of a fish. An odd thing to be able to grant wishes or gifts, but I suppose there's stranger. Maybe. Allow me to start this explanation with a story. In it, there is a man with two wives. Not an unusual sight. Especially among the higher class families in China. The wives each birth a daughter, both of which are as lovely as their mothers. I know this much based on the testimony of the father and the portraits he showed me of his family. Indeed, he was married to a pair of beauties. His first wife reminded me of a viper. Beautiful, angry, venomous. She would wear makeup to hide any flaws on her face (so perhaps she was not as lovely as she truly was). But then, that was merely what could be seen on the surface. Her eyes showed far more. You could see an inner cruelty, the venom, shining in her almond shaped eyes. Eyes that were too heavily lined and weighed down with far too much mascara which hid what could possibly have been rather attractive hazel eyes. And then she also wore too thick makeup that was one, maybe two, shades lighter than her natural complexion along with deep rouge on her lips that only accentuated how thin and tense her mouth was. Personally, I feel she may have been trying far too hard.

The second wife, whom this man has proclaimed to be his favorite, brings to mind wildflowers. There's a softness to her face and in her coal black eyes. A complexion matching someone who spends much time outside and tending to a garden (apparently a favorite pastime of hers). And not even a static image can hide the smile hidden in the corner of her full lips. I can certainly see why he's chosen her as his favorite. Were I the kind who might marry, I would certainly want this lovely creature. Such a shame that she had passed before her time. Now, for the daughters. As stated before, there are two of them. The elder being born to the first wife and the younger being born to the second. Both girls take after their mothers. Though it should be mentioned that the first, thankfully, doesn't share her mother's stern expression or penchant for heavy makeup. This first daughter has the same eye shape and color as her mother, but the lack of heavy makeup makes it much easier too see the color of them. The only difference is that the daughter's eyes are somewhat more slanted and makes her look like a fox. Not that that is such a bad thing. The vulpine-like features suit the girl quite well and give others the impression that she is far more cunning than she appears to be. Such a shame that her personality doesn't match her features. She could certainly be a force to be reckoned with in court if she was the sly creature she looks to be. Sadly, she's actually quite dim and as vain as her mother. And a horrid complainer. Although, I'm not certain there's any teenaged girl that wouldn't complain about pain and discomfort while going through the process of foot binding. Before I move on, I should explain that China does not favor foot binding much, anymore. While some families do still perform the procedure, it's usually started when a girl is much, much younger. While their feet were still growing. Not when the girl was nearly full grown. I believe that she may have also been dealing with an infection from the procedure when I first met her. Moving on now. The second daughter was the very image of her mother. Thick, black hair and wide, doe-like eyes the color of ebony. She even had that same little smile in the corner of her mouth. This girl, Yeh-Shen, is also the primary subject of this case. Which should be noted that she was very forthcoming with her side of the events. To begin, Yeh-Shen's mother died while she was still a young girl, leaving behind a beautiful garden with a fish pond. According to her father, she spent much time at the pond after her mother's passing. Apparently, she'd taken quite a liking to a particular fish in the pond. To say that this was the extent of things, though, would be wrong. Things get much worse in this story. As a merchant, the girl's father would often spend long durations of time away from home. During these times, the first wife, we'll call her Qiao, would treat Yeh-Shen as a servant. Forcing her stepdaughter to clean, cook and tend to her and her daughter's every need and whim. Qiao would even belittle her, calling her 'Lazy Girl' and whipping her if she didn't move as quickly as she wanted. For her own part, Qiao's daughter, whom shall be called Niu, wasn't as bad as her mother. She wasn't much better, but she also wasn't so abusive. Unless you counted kicking Yeh-Shen in the face when her feet were being cleaned and bandaged. Niu, though, would often thank her sister and didn't take part in the beatings or the name calling. That being said, she didn't exactly make it easier for her, either. Mostly by not offering to help with any of the chores and not speaking up against her mother for the woman's poor behavior. I suppose it can't be helped, though. Qiao can be quite intimidating. As mentioned, Yeh-Shen often spent her free time in her mother's garden and tending to a particular koi fish. I was fortunate enough to have gotten to see a painting of this fish, done by the girl in question. She's quite talented with paints and the fish was quite beautiful. Mostly white with a pale gold diamond between it's eyes. I imagine the fish must've looked as if it's scales were made of pearls while the marking looked more like fragments of amber. Even in the painting, you can see an intelligence in the animal that isn't commonly noticed in a fish of any kind. while we spoke, she told me tales of how the fish, called Bai, would often swim up to greet her and allow her to pet it as if it were a house cat. She also spoke of how Bai would 'dance' for her, as if performing for it's mistress in the hopes of cheering her up. No doubt, Yeh-Shen genuinely loved this little fish. She didn't even need to say as much as I could see it on her face and hear it in her voice. It's a shame that there must be one more bit of tragedy before a happier end comes. In this case, Bai was killed. As a form of punishment as well as to feed her own child and herself, Qiao scooped the fish from the pond and forced Yeh-Shen to prepare it as a meal. There's no doubt that the poor girl cried the entire time and continued to do so as she gathered every tiny bone and wrapped in silk. Yeh-Shen then spoke of how she cared for the bones as if they were a treasure, wishing nothing more than for her friend to return to her. As it happens, the festival celebrating the new year took place just a few, short months after this. Qiao was adamant that Yeh-Shen not attend. Considering this was also a time when young women and men often sought out a potential spouse, the woman didn't want the extra competition against Niu. I imagine anyone seeing that girl hobbling along in binding shoes would only bring about feelings of pity. Not exactly a great way to try and get a husband. However, this is not Niu's story. While she was forced to stay home, Yeh-Shen spoke to the bones of her beloved fish. Something she claims to have been doing since it's death as it brought her comfort. As she carried on a one-sided conversation, her garments changed from muslin rags to silk robes and golden slippers. While there's no evidence to prove it, it seems the bones of the fish were able to grant it's mistress's wish. She was able to go to the festival. The festival in question was a rather large event. One that I was unable to attend due to having holed myself up with my work. But I did hear a great deal about the spectacle afterwards. How a tiny golden slipper led to a simple servant girl marrying the son of one of the most powerful lords. It's at this point that the story's events were told from the perspective of the young lord, Li Shou. He had found the slipper shortly after parting ways with Yeh-Shen, having been talking with her for some time. He had hoped to get her name, but she had fled before telling him. A shame as that may have made it much easier for him to find her and return the little shoe. What should be noted is that I keep referencing the size of this shoe. There is a reason. The object appears to belong to a rather young girl, not an adult woman. Had I not been shown the size of her feet when shown the slippers, I would've believed that there was no way it belonged to her. During the search, Shou had all the unmarried ladies try the slipper on. Given a woman would've had to have had a severely deformed foot to fit into such a small shoe, it's no surprise that no one was able to fit into it. There was even moments when, according to those who witnessed it, the slipper would shrink whenever a girl would be close to the same size. No doubt there was some form of magic still involved and it was helping this young man find it's rightful owner. At some point, the slipper was brought to Yeh-Shen's home where Niu tried on the slipper, first. Naturally, it didn't come close to fitting the young woman's foot and no one was really keen on helping her force it on the infected appendage. Qiao tried to keep the true owner of the slipper from being seen, but since the lord and his men needed to pass by the garden and the pond in order to leave, she failed in her attempt. Lord Shou goes on to tell how he approached the frightened servant girl and asked her try on the slipper. Sure enough, the slipper fit her dainty foot perfectly. Now is the part that has me the most intrigued. For it was moments after Yeh-Shen put on the slipper that her beloved fish had reappeared in the pond. And, according to the young couple, Qiao dragged Niu into the garden to try and stop Shou from meeting her stepdaughter. When they reached a certain spot by the pond, the koi, resurrected by some unknown force, had leaped up and struck them with it's tail. The impact resulted in the two toppling into the pond where they transformed into a pair of koi fish. Lord Shou said that he had never heard screams such as theirs. Screams that indicated the change must've been quite painful. Thankfully, they allowed me to see these fish. The original koi was just as lovely as the original painting indicated. These two new ones, though... I'm not certain what to consider them to be. Both are a mottled black and orange with dull, black eyes set on their very human faces. The longest one, I assume was once Qiao, had a very thin face and would bite at anyone who tried to approach. The other, I can only guess to have been Niu because of the deformed tail fin. Certainly seems to be a fitting end for them.

#Been a while since I posted anything #Hope you guys enjoy it #Chinese Cinderella #Inspired by Chinese fairy tale #Cinderella

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arctimon · 3 years

Link

The following represents dialogue that is not final and is subject to change.

-----

The group turned to where Fred was pointing to. The line of people were already staring to circle around the makeshift monument, and right at the top, from what Hiro could see on the viewscreens, was some sort of hammer. The camera was zoomed in enough so that he could see the finer details: the long, leather handle handle and a shiny metal protector with leather strap lazily hanging on the end. The head was stone, weathered to almost oblivion, with some sort of writing on the sides that he couldn't make out.

Hiro didn't understand why Fred was worked up about it. But this was also Fred, so no doubt he would tell everyone in about two seconds.

“...The Hammer of the Gods.”

Yup. There it was.

-----

“OK, I'll bite, since Fred is off in Fantasy Land,” Go Go said, glancing at Olivia. “What happens when someone is deemed 'worthy' or whatever?”

“I don't know.” She looked up at Go Go, still fanning Fred's reddening face. “I don't think anyone really does. I follow The Collection as much as Fred does, and I can't recall an instance where anyone was able to lift it. There's rumors for sure; they range from tickets for life to autographs and everything in between. Someone online even said you could pick one single piece of The Collection to take home with you. But everyone agrees..”

She cast a wistful look up at the hammer.

“It's the pinnacle of comic book memorabilia. And people would give an arm and a leg just to touch it, much less lift it.”

“So let me guess. Knucklehead is going to try to get in line and-”

She motioned to where Fred had been last and noticed it was vacant. She looked up to see Fred making a beeline for the end of the queue. “Aaaand he's already way ahead of me.”

----- “I shall have it! You have played a worthy game, but there is nothing that you can do to stop me! I will have it! All of it! No one will stand in my way, not even your haphazard recruitment of heroes!” -----

“It has been a very long time since I have heard the roar of its thunder. The blinding flash of its lightning. The energy that it brings forth...it is unlike anything that has been and will be made.” She looked off into the distance, away from her newcomer. “Perhaps it was for the best that it was lost.” ----- “But I must warn you.” Their hands hung in the air, mere inches away from the glowing light. “This power is not meant to be trifled with. If it is bestowed upon you, then it must only be used in the most dire of consequences. The bleakest of circumstances. When all other options have been exhausted. Only the bravest of souls and the purest of minds can use this without becoming corrupted. So I ask you, young one...” Her eyes danced in the light as she stared them down. “Do you still wish to accept this gift...and perhaps all of the misfortune it may bring?"

So now you guys now what I’ve been working on for the past few days, and I am actually really happy with how this turned out. But I still can’t draw. Remember that. But onto the rest of the notes. The hammer is purposefully bigger than everyone's hands for a few reasons. One, because I wanted everyone to notice all of the shiny little details. Two, because someone may have accidentally drawn it too big and didn't feel like redrawing it smaller. Three...because shut up, that why. XD When drawing the BH6 version of Mjolnir, I didn't want to just copy the movie version or comic version and be done with it. I wanted it to be unique. I did borrow a lot from the MCU's one (mainly the handle), but the inscription is purely from the comics and the runes on the sides borrow from the Elder Futhark runic alphabet, something that will be commented on by one of the geniuses at some point in this story. It represents, as Olivia said, the shining crown of the Big Hero 6 world's comic nerd fandom. I don't want to give too much away for Artifact, but I can say a couple of things: 1.) Olivia is in it. This is my first real attempt at writing her, so this should be interesting, if nothing else. 2.) This will be a one-shot, not a multi-chaptered story. But it will be a long one, perhaps even longer than any one-shot I've had to date. 3.) No, I will not say who the woman is in the dialogue above. Or who she's talking to. That is a spoiler. The mere fact that I'm saying it's a woman may be too much on its own. 4.) The story is still in progress. I need to finish Continuity II before anything else. But you guys are more than welcome to take guess as to who will be worthy enough to wield the Hammer... *points to the hands in the drawing* Because it will be one of them. But before I go, there is one tiny little thing that eagle-eyed watchers may notice about one of the people in here. And before you say anything, it's not a mistake. It's intentional.

#big hero 6 #big hero 6 the series #hiro hamada #karmi #karmiro #go go tomago #honey lemon #wasabi #fredzilla #olivia mole #mjolnir #but not mjolnir because copyright #big hero 6 fanfiction #artifact

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tipsycad147 · 3 years

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BELTANE – WELCOMING THE FAE

Beltane is one of the most celebrated pagan events each year. It falls midway between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. The holiday has it’s origins in ancient Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man, but is widely practiced across the modern world. Typically, celebrations start on the last day of April and continue into the daylight hours of May 1st (in the northern hemisphere). There are numerous ways to celebrate including huge rituals, bonfires, dancing, singing, re-enactments, and rituals about the Fae, but the focal point is always fertility. Throughout the years, our Beltane rituals have covered many of the traditional activities, but with the world going through so much change lately, this year it’s dedicated to the Fae.

Those who follow the old ways know that the veil between our world and the world of the Fae grows very thin but a few times each year; on Beltane and Samhain. On those nights, all sorts of creatures from the faerie world can and do cross over into our world. Likewise, brave humans can enter the other side, if they dare. The Fae usually avoid humans, but sometimes they decide to have a little harmless fun at our expense. Some humans find themselves feeling bold and may try to ‘play the game’ with creatures from the other side, but this almost always ends up bad. History tells of mischievous faeries who trick humans on this night and they are never seen again. It’s very important to keep in mind that the Fae are not to be toyed with. Don’t make deals, enter into any arrangements or make promises you cannot fulfill. Every interaction is an exchange and payment is expected in one form or another. But, don’t let this deter you from interacting with the faeries, just be cautious and make sure you present an appropriate offering.

Our Beltane ritual is focused on welcoming the faeries to our lands, our pastures and our gardens. If we show them our appreciation, they will bless us with their gifts and there will be harmony.

This ritual is written to be performed by a group, outside, with a bonfire.

What you’ll need to prepare for this ritual (as written)

Alter with fairy themed decorations and enough open space for each participant to place an offering Quarter Candles (4 total) in these colors – Red (South,) Yellow (East,) Green (North,) and Blue (West) Goddess Candle – Large White Candle (I use a three wick candle for the Goddess) Hand bell Bonfire or fire circle of some sort

In order for success, please inform all guests that part of this ritual is about making an offering to the Fae, and that they should bring something special, of their own choosing. Also there is a meditation portion which may be lengthy, so a chair or yoga mat might also be in order.

Any portion of the ritual that is bracketed with <> refers to instructions that the ritual leader should perform rather than be spoken aloud.

The Ritual

“Let it be called, let it be cast, this sacred circle both present and past; a meeting place, a spiritual space, where we welcome all members of the human race”

Join Us As We Call the Beltane 2021 Quarters

East

As the spring winds slip ever so gracefully across the land, we turn our eyes to the East and give high praises to the great spirits of Air. We welcome you to our circle on this night when the veil is very thin and the fairies are starting to move across the land. Guard us from any mischief this night and help to guide those who are lost so that they may find a safe refuge until morning. <light yellow candle>

South

The last of the warming rays of the sun have just dropped beneath the horizon as we turn to the South, where the great Fire spirits make their home. We give thanks for your attendance in our circle tonight and offer high thanks and praises for the gift of light which you’ve bestowed upon us. Keep our path illuminated as we move from place to place so that no harm or accident will fall our way. <light red candle>

West

Old ones of the West, mighty spirits of Water, we call upon you to join us in our circle tonight. Bathe each of us in your cascading and cleansing waters so that we may regenerate our spirit and carry forward with renewed hope for the future. <light blue candle>

North

Great ones of the North, magical spirits of the Earth, we extend our greatest wishes and honors and ask for you to join us as we celebrate all things associated with the land. As the world around us rises, grows, and reaches to the sun, we see fertility in each direction. We ask that you pull forth the positive energies of the planet to feed our crops and our souls, so that we may once again renew our relationship with everything in nature. <light green candle>

Goddess

Brigid, Great Goddess of spring, the dawn, and fertility; protector of mothers and children, we call upon you to grace us with your presence at this Beltane celebration. You are the fire in the heads of the Bards, the heat in the forges of the mighty Blacksmiths, and the cleansing flames of the healers. Join us tonight in our ritual, hail and blessed be! <light Goddess Candle>

Introduction – Beltane

Even though our ritual is about the Fae, we cannot forget the reason why we are celebrating. If we look back into history, one thing is crystal clear, the great fire festival of Beltane honors life. This celebration is known by many names, including Belt-an-a in Ireland, Bealtunn in Scotland, Shenn do Boaldyn on the Isle of Man and Galan Mae in Wales; it’s also commonly known as May Day. Beltane represents the peak of spring and the beginning of summer; the bright half of the year and the coming warmth. It’s a celebration of the return of life and fertility to the physical world which surrounds us. It’s a time for sexual awakening in humankind with new relationships, marriages and the adventures of young adulthood.

The ancient tale resonates today just as it did in the past. At Beltane, the Maiden Goddess has reached her fullness of womanhood. She is the manifestation of growth and renewal; called Flora, the Goddess of Spring, the May Queen, or the May Bride. The Young Oak King, also known as the May King, Jack-In-The-Green, or the Green Man, falls in love with her and wins her hand. Their union is consummated and the Goddess becomes pregnant. This sacred union symbolizes the Sacred Marriage of Earth and Sky and has been re-enacted by humankind throughout the centuries. Just as the May Queen will be the source of new life, so can we bring life to our brilliant ideas, hopes, and dreams on Beltane.

Musical Interlude

If you are a regular follower of our rituals, then you know that we try to include a music selection in each one. Sometimes it’s a stretch to find an appropriate song to play, while other times it’s a snap. This is one of those other times. Our selection is called Beltane Fire Dance by Loreena McKennitt. Start the music and skip down to the Fire Jumping section.

Jumping the Bonfire

On the eve of Beltane our Celtic ancestors would build two large bonfires, created from the nine sacred woods; oak, birch, ash, alder, willow, hawthorn, holly, hazel, and rowan. These fires were deemed to have protective properties and were considered sacred. All the livestock would be summarily rounded up and driven in between the two fires so as to purify and protect them in the upcoming year. The villagers themselves would then leap over one of the Beltane bonfires, but for different reasons. The young, unmarried villagers jumped the fire for luck in finding a spouse, travelers jumped the fire to ensure a safe journey, and pregnant women jumped the fire to assure an easy delivery. Couples would jump over hand in hand to ensure their union stayed strong. This is not a complete list though. Each person had their own reasons for stepping across the flames and no one passed on the opportunity. <instruct the group on fire safety and take appropriate measure to make sure no one gets injured, then have everyone who wishes to, jump over the fire>

Think about what you wish for in the coming year while you’re carefully crossing over the flames.

Welcoming the Fae

In ancient Ireland there lived a race of people of the Goddess Danu, called the Tuatha Dé Danann. These people were the earliest magick users known to the world, having been cast out of paradise because they were becoming too powerful. From high above they descended to the Island of Ireland to live out their lives, unimpeded, but when the island was invaded by the Milesians, they went underground. They continued practicing magick and eventually evolved into what we now call the Fae. They developed abilities to remain hidden from humans and lived in caves or other secret places, which they jealously guarded. History tells stories of the rare human who found access to those hidden places and would never be heard from again.

And yet we also hear a multitude of stories from the past where the Fae would have positive interactions with humankind. Usually these begin with a generous offering of milk, honey, yogurt, pastries or other sweet delicacies. Small tables, toys, fabric and other shiny objects may also be used to attract faeries. But, the single most important part is to listen to the natural world around your area. When you become sensitive to all parts of nature, you’ll begin to hear more and more and you’ll make that connection. The Fae can tell who is sincere and who isn’t, and they aren’t on a time schedule. It may take some time, but don’t give up.

Tonight as part of our Beltane celebration, we shall present the faeries with an offering. Each person should place their item on our alter as a token of friendship and compassion toward all things from the other side of the veil.

Now that we have prepared an offering, it’s time to listen to nature.

Now each of you may state a high praise to the faeries and introduce yourselves to them formally.

As we prepare to close, remember this moment and take it with you everywhere. The more open your mind is, the more nature will reveal.

Closing our Beltane 2021 Circle

North

Magickal spirits of the Earth, we again offer thanks for sharing this festive evening with us. Tomorrow we shall survey our lands and have a renewed sense of comfort for a prosperous growing season and bountiful harvest. <extinguish green candle>

West

Mighty spirits of Water, our praise is never-ending. We offer prayers on the banks and shores and across all the great bodies of water so that you can see and hear our feelings of gratitude. <extinguish blue candle>

South

Legendary spirits of Fire, as we leave here tonight, we carry new memories of illumination; not just physically, but also spiritually and emotionally and we shall walk with more confidence and understanding. <extinguish red candle>

East

Whispering spirits of Air, our faith is renewed as we watch the thin tendrils of smoke rise and glide away on your invisible currents. We realize that we do not always need to see something to believe in its power and understand its magnitude. <extinguish yellow candle>

Goddess

Great Goddess of spring, we bid you the kindest and move loving farewell as this night comes to a glorious ending. Bless us as we leave and protect us. Farewell and blessed be! <light Goddess Candle>

“This circle is open but never broken”

https://www.thegypsythread.org/beltane-2021-welcoming-the-fae/

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sparrowwritings · 3 years

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Final Fantasy Writing Challenge Day Fifteen: “That lucky charm you gave me hasn’t been so lucky.”

Day Fourteen -- Masterpost -- Day Sixteen

“Ah! One of my <adorable twin saplings!>” Feo Ul cried as Lara froze in the doorway. She’d been expecting Roger in the apartment. Maybe a brooding Ardbert. That she was seeing the pixie that she had bonded with at the start of her journey wasn’t unpleasant just...awkward.

Luckily she could recover easily enough. With a bright smile, she called out, “Hey, Feo Ul!” Lara looked around. “Is there, uh, anything bad about to happen? King related business that you need help with? I can go get Roger if that’s the case…”

With a boisterous laugh that sent them into a flying loop-de-loop in the air, the red pixie hovered close enough to squish Lara’s cheeks. “Nay, my precious gold-and-fire hair sapling. I’ve already seen my other <adorable twin sapling> and given my latest charm to him. Now I bestow upon you this token of luck!” Feo Ul let go of her long enough to tangle up something in Lara’s hair. Setting themself back far enough to admire their work, the King of Pixies (in their more diminutive piece that mostly interacted with their saplings) declared, “There! A proper charm now for my dearest sapling!”

Lara really hoped that she was allowed to take it out of her hair. “You’re most kind, Feo Ul,” And, since she was seriously trying to get a grasp of the language that the pixies used, she added, “<Adore beauty my branch>.” She winced at the “translation” that her Echo so helpfully provided. It was the most ironic gift ever. She could understand any language and be understood if she needed to be, but actually attempting to learn a language when someone says a word and her head says another…

No wonder Roger declined language learning with Urianger.

Feo Ul laughed even harder than before. “‘Tis nearly right! A bit more practice and you will be calling for me every moment that you have the need. Be seeing you!” And with that, they turned into a ball of light and flitted out the window. She waited until all of the sparkles in the air had well and truly faded before dislodging whatever it was that the pixie had tied into her hair.

What she found was a silver bell. There was nothing tying it anywhere, save for the gold strands that were left over from Feo Ul’s work. There also wasn’t anything inside the bell to make it ring. It was odd...but in a cute way.

“A charm from the pixie, eh?” Ardbert leaned into view, startling Lara. He ignored her reaction to examine the bell closer. “Back in my day it was said that gifts from the Fae could lead to great fortune…” His brown eyes flicked up to meet hers. “Or great despair. All things considered, I say you leave the bell here before you go out again. And whatever it is that they gave to Roger.”

Lara snorted. “Feo Ul wouldn’t give me something that would harm me.” She headed to the platform that contained both hers and Roger’s beds and made a beeline for where her less important things were being stored. “I’m one of her precious twin saplings, like you heard.” With a bit of searching, she turned up a white ribbon that she quickly used to tie the soundless bell to her wrist. “Plus isn’t it also bad luck to refuse a gift of the Fae?” It was a half remembered lesson from when Urianger had spent a couple of days trying to describe all of the intricate rules that the various races of Il Mheg lived by. When it was clear that the two of them couldn’t memorize everything immediately, he’d sighed and gave a few more concise rules of thumb for dealing with the Fae. Concise for his standards, at least.

“Aye, but that don’t mean their gift’s gonna be any good to you either.”

“It’s a luck charm! What’s the worst that could happen?”

-------

Urianger started when he beheld the severely disheveled sight of the Warriors of Darkness. “Oh my. It seemeth thou both hath run into troubles aplenty.”

“You have no idea.” Roger didn’t even bother to clear a spot of books. He marched to a spot on the wall that was the least occupied and slid down it with a prolonged groan.

Lara moved to join him, but hissed in pain. Without another word, Urianger cast a couple of healing spells on the both of them. In moments, the Warriors of Darkness both breathed a sigh of relief.

“Didst thou fight a horde of monsters?”

“I wish it had just been monsters.” Lara rolled her shoulders as the soreness faded. “We’ve just had trouble after trouble since yesterday.”

Roger counted the ways on his fingers. “Everything keeps breaking, I’ve been tripping over myself way more than I used to, we pissed off this amaro that used to be real friendly and it dropped us in a lake.”

Urianger froze. “Thou canst mean--”

“Yeah, we almost got dragged back to Dohn Mheg. Thank every single god that we have that water breathing blessing…” She once again moved to sit next to her best friend when her foot collided against a footstool. A crack resounded around the library and Lara’s face contorted with pain again. “Oww…” Her voice came out as a whimper.

He moved to tend to what sounded like a broken toe (though gods knew how Lara was able to do so when she was still wearing boots). As he used his own aether to heal her again, a card he drew from his star globe brought his attention to the ribbon on her wrist. On it was a silver bell with no clapper. Urianger’s eyes narrowed at it. “When did thou receiveth this bell, young Lara?”

She blinked a couple of times as the magic quickly got to work. “Uh...yesterday, actually. Feo Ul called it a luck charm.”

That was explanation enough. “Didst thou both not listen to mine lecture when I mentioned gifts of the Fae?”

“Er…” Roger scratched at his face and looked away.

“Uh…” Lara looked upwards before snapping her fingers. “They can cause great fortune!”

“Or quite the opposite.” He indicated the bell. “What were the exact words of thine pixie?”

“Feo Ul...said it was a luck charm,” Lara repeated.

“Didst they mention good or ill luck whatsoever?”

She stared at him, then her eyes widened with realization as she looked down at the bell. “They didn’t.”

Roger groaned even louder than before. “Why do the Fae do this stuff…”

“‘Tis merely their nature as mischievous creatures, young Roger. Feo Ul, while they hast many duties as King of the Pixies, will still desireth to delight in seeing even their sune yaks contend with the gifts they hast given unto them.” He nodded as the magic faded and Lara was once again healed. “Nevertheless, ‘tis most unfortunate that their gifts hath caused thee such ill luck. ‘Twoud be best to leave thine gifts in thine quarters until such time that Feo Ul forgets they hath given their saplings such charms.”

“And we can’t just...say no to future gifts?” Roger pondered even as he took out the pendant that the pixie had given to him.

“I’m afraid the consequences of refusing would be far worse than those of accepting their gifts.”

“Well crud.” Lara muttered.

While the two were quietly contemplating their fate, Urianger offered, “Perhaps ‘twould be wise for me to accompany you both back to the Crystarium. Thine healing abilities are quite remarkable, young Lara, however having a second in reserve may be what your ill luck needs to turn back to the good.”

With the voice of someone who hadn’t really heard what was spoken to them, she responded with, “Sounds good.” Then her focus landed on him with startling strength. “Hey can I ask you a question?”

“Whatever it is you wish to know, I will endeavor to answer.”

“Do you know what cúpla sune yaks means?” Lara’s mouth didn’t move in the correct way to pronounce the words, but Urianger heard the phrase pronounced the way it should be said. He forced the scholar part of his mind to back down from the opportunity to marvel at yet another side effect of one possessing the Echo to go over the phrase she said.

It couldn’t be...could it?

“Aye,” He answered neutrally. Roger sat up from his spot against the wall, watching the both of them. It didn’t take long for her to start rambling about what she was really asking.

“Okay so…” She tugged at a strand of her hair and twined it around a finger. “Feo Ul always calls us that. And the Echo makes it sound like she’s calling us ‘adorable twin saplings.’ I just want to know if there’s anything significant about it.”

“We’ve been over this, Lara, they just mean that we’re their two saplings!” Roger called out. “The Echo made it sound like that so that we’d understand what they meant better!”

“But we don’t know if that’s true!” She turned her deep blue eyes up to meet his own. “Well?”

Urianger granted her a moment’s pause while he thought of what to say. “...If it beith thine conclusion that the words of Feo Ul meaneth what you say, then that is so. As I do not possesseth the Echo, I can only interpret language by having been taught it. Twin can be used to mean two in many languages.”

“See! I told you!”

Lara continued to stare at him for a moment before looking away again when she failed to find what it was she was looking for. “Okay. Guess I was just thinking too hard.” She sighed and rubbed at a temple. “Let’s get back to the Crystarium and soon.” Roger made another groan as he helped himself stand.

“We’ll meet you outside when you’re ready.” He said to Urianger as the two left the library.

“I shall be but a moment.”

As soon as the Warriors of Darkness had well and truly exited, he gave a deep frown.

If Feo Ul had meant to call Roger and Lara their two adorable saplings, they would have called them “a dó sune yaks” in the language of the Pixies. They specifically used the phrase “cúpla sune yaks.” Twin adorable saplings.

There was only one possible conclusion to be drawn from that. Pixies were the most well known among the Fae folk to use their exact words in order to not lie.

Among other sudden realizations and connections, Urianger couldn’t help but marvel at how this also explained why the pixies in particular all adored the Warriors of Darkness so. The ancient texts described the race as being quite drawn towards twins.

#Final Fantasy 14 #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #fanfiction #writing challenge #That lucky charm you gave me hasn't been so lucky #dual WoL AU #feo ul #urianger augurelt #roger briden #lara marner #sorry for lateness in posting the internet crapped out on me last night #listen if i'm given a prompt that lets me use fairy stuff i'm gonna take it #gotta watch for those exact words man #also yes the twins haven't figured it out yet #they've got the scions to be smart for them #lara and roger just need to be pointed in the direction of whatever the next danger is #at this point in the story there are 4 adults who've figured it out #(alisaie and alphinaud have been too focused on other things)#Krile as mentioned before #urianger here #y'shtola has very accurate suspicions but hasn't confirmed it yet #and finally the adult who introduced you to Feo Ul himself #:3 #fifteen down sixteen to go #ohhhh we're halfway theeeerrrre...

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a-queer-seminarian · 4 years

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we are taught to interpret Esau’s trading of his birthright for a bowl of stew as impulsiveness, even (in Christian language) as a ‘weakness of the flesh.’ He chooses instant gratification over the farther off but far more valuable thing, and thus proves himself unworthy of his firstborn status and all it entails -- Abraham’s wealth and social power, but also Abraham’s relationship with God.

i don’t believe that.

Esau gave in to Jacob’s demand because he knew that Jacob would never have the means to compel Esau to make good on his word.

Jacob was physically weaker. Jacob was set to inherit the tiniest fragment of the wealth and resources that Esau would inherit. how on earth would Jacob ever wrest the birthright and the blessing he was owed from Esau?

Esau’s ‘crime’ here is less impulsiveness, and more a trust in the status quo. his world of patriarchy and primogeniture promised him his inheritance, whether he was a good man or bad, an honest man or a liar. he could tell his younger brother whatever Jacob wanted to hear, but down the road he could trust that their father would bestow the blessing on Esau anyway.

his reliance on the status quo is what allows Esau to hand over his birthright so easily -- because he knows that merely saying it’s Jacob’s now does not make it so.

Esau’s great failing is that he assumes that his culture’s will is God’s will.

the problem for Esau is that God does not play by human rules.

____________

in the Book of Genesis and throughout the rest of scripture, we see God working within the bounds of cultural assumptions and norms, rolling with the binary systems that human societies construct -- right up to the point where Xe doesn’t.

In The Soul of the Stranger: Reading God and Torah from a Transgender Perspective, Jewish scholar Joy Ladin focuses on the elements of gender inherent to the system of primogeniture that places the firstborn Esau over the secondborn Jacob in every way. To her, biblical maleness comes in different “flavors” -- the roles expected of a firstborn son are different from those assigned to non-firstborn sons. She says,

“Jacob and Esau are both male and are born almost simultaneously, but they are assigned at birth to very different gender roles. Because Esau emerges from the womb first, he is considered the firstborn, heir not only to Isaac’s worldly possessions but also to the relationship with God that Isaac inherited from his father, Abraham. Though Jacob is born holding onto his brother’s heel, he is considered the second-born, expected to accept the authority of his older brother, who, after their father’s death, will be the head of the family. Like the gender binary, this law of inheritance, called ‘primogeniture,’ creates a lifelong, life-determining binary division between males who are and those who aren’t firstborn sons. And like the gender binary, primogeniture turns biology, in this case birth order, into destiny. The way male children are raised, the roles they are assigned, and the futures toward which they are steered are determined by whether they are or aren’t firstborn sons.” (p. 36)

Esau has grown up understanding that his inheritance is his destiny. It’s what he’s been born for, what he’s been raised for, what he is entitled to. Why would he believe that he would ever have to make good on his silly promise to Jacob to hand over that destiny? It’s set in stone, inviolable.

at least it is in the eyes of men. but not to God.

“If God were committed to the gender binary idea that people are unchangeably defined by the gender roles we are assigned at birth, then either Esau would have been destined to inherit Isaac’s relationship with God, or Jacob would have been born first. But as God reveals to Rebekah before the twins are born, God intends for the younger brother to usurp the elder, prenatally linking God’s blessing to trans experience. (Ladin, pp. 37-38)

in the ancient past and in the present day, countless roles get assigned to us as soon as -- or even before -- we exist the womb. biology is presumed destiny in so many ways: our gender, our race, the class and geopolitical location and family into which we are born, supposedly map out what our personalities will be, how our lives will go. and certainly these things do shape us, both by nature and nurture -- generational traumas come packed into our very cells, while our environment and how others treat us based on our assigned roles impact how we perceive ourselves and the world around us.

but even so, even so, biology is not destiny. especially not if God has any say in the matter.

for God is the great binary breaker, no respecter of persons or prejudices, unbeholden to the status quo. indeed, God almost seems to delight in upending our assumptions about who is blessed. secondborn sons and eunuchs, women and disabled persons, impoverished persons and disenfranchised peoples -- these are the ones whom God selects, again and again, to be recipients and agents of divine blessing. “blessed are the poor;” “the last shall be first.”

Esau assumes that biology, his status assigned based on birth order, is destiny. he does not fear his younger brother, who is rendered powerless by their culture to claim what he is promised in a moment of hunger. and probably this is safer for Jacob -- because when Esau does finally realize, too late, that Jacob is a real threat, Esau becomes murderously angry.

when Isaac is duped into giving Jacob his blessing after all, Jacob cannot stick around to claim the wealth and status that comes with it -- he must flee, or die under Esau’s hand.

i wonder if some of the violence we see in our time, and across every time and place, stems from the same kind of rage and fear that Esau experiences:

the rage of the ones who are raised to believe the world belongs to them, that they are entitled to certain blessings and privileges, only for the truth to pounce on them unexpectedly -- the shocking truth that biology is not destiny, that they are not inherently superior, that what they thought would be theirs without question might could be snatched from them after all.

the divine right to rule. manifest destiny. the ‘white man’s burden.’

white men who assume they are entitled to white women, so that the mere thought of a Black man winning a woman’s heart is enough to incite them to brutality.

white women who understand that the police are their personal body guards, to call down upon the bodies of Black adults and even Black children on a whim -- and are indignant in the rare circumstance that they are told otherwise.

men and white people who expect the best jobs and properties to go to them, so that anyone else advancing over them seems an appalling injustice.

cis women who perceive trans women as “invading their spaces;” cishet couples who think LGBTQ/queer couples ruin “the sanctity of marriage;” persons who are accustomed to being accommodated without even realizing it sneering at “safe spaces” and trigger warnings....

and on and on.

Esau had every reason to assume that his biology determined his destiny -- that he could make an impulsive promise, make a big mistake, and everything would still turn out in his favor. he was born into a world that told him so every day -- even that God sanctioned these human assumptions and systems. But God does not.

“God’s disruptions of gender in these stories make it clear that even the gender roles that matter most to human beings are not sacred to God. ...God in the Torah uses gender, but is not bound by it. On the one hand, God depends on gender to transmit the covenant across time and space, so that even after hundreds of generations, Jews will still see themselves as children of Abraham. On the other hand, God disrupts gender as a way of making God’s power and presence known. ...In these stories, faithfulness to gender has little to do with faithfulness to God. In fact, God counts on the fact that people are not bound by gender roles. The covenant with Abraham is founded on Abraham, Sarah, and Jacob’s embrace of trans experience: their willingness to live outside the gender roles they were born to and become the kinds of people they are not supposed to be.” (Ladin, pp. 57-58)

Faithfulness to human constructs has little to do with faithfulness to God. God blesses us when we can imagine beyond the narrative we are assigned -- as Jacob does in this story where he demands a birthright the world does not intend for him....and as Esau eventually does.

In Genesis 33, Esau catches up to Jacob after decades apart -- and Jacob expects violence. He sends gifts of livestock to Esau and conceals his most cherished family at the back of his huge household. But to his bewilderment, Esau is no longer murderously angry at having “lost” what he grew up assuming he was entitled to -- he rushes to his brother, throws his arms around Jacob’s neck, and weeps.

Esau was raised believing that he would own everything, and his brother nothing -- that Jacob would be one of many members of Esau’s household, subservient to him. But now, he does not even feel entitled to the livestock that Jacob offers him: “I already have plenty, my brother. Keep what’s yours.”

Jacob is relieved by this unexpected reconciliation, exclaiming to Esau that “Seeing your face is like seeing God’s face, since you’ve accepted me so warmly!” He never expected Esau to accept what Jacob has known all along -- that biology is not destiny; that neither of them are bound to human constructs like birthright; that they can live a different way than the way prescribed to them, one in which both of them thrive.

___________

now, this story is by no means perfect. Jacob was able to imagine bigger for himself, to escape the destiny assigned to him -- but he does not imagine big enough. he does not use his new station to liberate others.

he becomes a patriarch -- assimilates into patriarchy and the power to own other human beings, to rule over every member of his household, rather than challenging the whole system that once oppressed him. i am reminded of trans persons, persons of color, women, who once they manage to acquire power for themselves never use it to help their fellow marginalized persons up. they land positions of power and use that power to oppress others as they were once oppressed, rather than using it to try to forge a new, better system for all.

Jacob the second-born becomes Jacob the patriarch. his household will be fraught with all the woes that come with this system that stifles all within it. his wives will hate each other and battle each other for what little power they can grasp. his sons will do the same, subjecting the younger Joseph to violence when, like Jacob, this little sibling dares to dream of being something greater than what his society assigns him.

what if Jacob could have imagined bigger? what if he had used his one fragment of shining clarity about how patriarchy and primogeniture stifled his true self to empower others, not only himself?

what if we could imagine bigger? what new and beautiful world could we build?

#bible study #joy ladin #jacob and esau #genesis 25 #what do you think?#sermon notes #just some half baked musings so far so i'd love feedback #summer 2020 #log #grace internship #primogeniture #essays

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storyplease · 4 years

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So I finally watched “Rise of the Guardians” and I have some thoughts about the major themes in the film...

Anyway, so I know this is a kid’s film or whatever, and I know that this probably WAYYY too in the weeds as far as thoughts are concerned, but what is Tumblr even good for if you can’t rant about fictional characters in peace?

Potential spoilers below cut...

Anyway, so the movie centers around mythical character such as the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus, etc, who can be argued are literally and figuratively “unbelievable” beings that require the faith of children (not necessarily the actual knowledge of their existence) to exist. In many ways, they play by the same rules as the American Gods in Neil Gaiman’s story of the same name. But I digress (a theme in my writing, yes?). One of the biggest themes in the movie is the idea of a “center”- each mythical entity has a an unusual “spark” of something that makes them worthy (from what appears to be upon their death) of becoming more than human.

So for example:

Santa Claus: Miracles/Wonder

Easter Bunny: Rebirth/Hope

Tooth Fairy: Remembrance/Connection

Sandy: Joy/Peace

It is established that all of the characters used to be mortal at some point or other, so the universe appears to have a deus ex machina (the Man in the Moon, who appears to run everything, but more on that later) who “decides” when someone is to be bestowed with powers...but who is also rendered intangible to the human beings they depend on for their power to grow until they prove themselves (mostly to children, because children tend to easily trust and believe in all manner of thing without a shred of evidence, and would therefore be much easier to convince to pledge their loyalty to)...somehow.

One of the big parts of Jack Frost’s story arc is that he doesn’t have any memories of who he was before he awoke with his abilities. He doesn’t remember his family or have the ability to have connections with mortals directly, and yet some people do mention his name without seeing him, so it appears that he is able to scrape power here and there. It is also worth mentioning that all of the Guardians appear to be aware of and can interact with Jack, but that they have chosen not to for over 400 years other than a few times where Jack has tried to playfully interact only to be shut down or retaliated against.

When he finally finds his memories, everyone acts really surprised, but it seems odd that this would never have come up before, especially since the Tooth Fairy appears to swoon/love his teeth and might have brought it up (but we shall forgive her a bit as she appears to be absurdly busy running the tooth empire to end all tooth empires).

But the most important part of this revelation is that a lot of Jack Frost’s negative character traits are specifically because he is lonely and has nobody else. He spends his life interacting with a world that cannot see or touch him. Therefore, his center (fun/mischief) becomes twisted and he causes trouble.

When he realizes his past and is able to connect with both mortal children and the other Guardians, his character blossoms! He becomes confident, protective, fun and wisecracking but without malice or bitterness.

He comes into his own, and his power increases.

Which brings me to...you guessed it...the main antagonist of the film.

The character of Pitch is obviously the bad guy. He’s dark, scary, looks kinda like he’s never brushed his teeth unless the toothpaste was made of coal, and is in general menacing and terrifying. He harms the characters, terrifies the children and generally drives the plot for his own selfish ends. After all, he’s known as the “boogeyman.”

His main traits appear to be a penchant for darkness (creating it and hiding in shadow) and causing fear. His lair appears to be in a hole underground that is situated under an old and rotting bed frame. Now there’s a lot of this that could just be taken on the nose. After all, there’s a reason that “there’s a monster under your bed” is a semi-universal kid’s fear.

There’s even a terrible pun about Pitch having a great time in the “Dark Ages.”

The thing is, darkness can mean a lot of things. And so can fear.

Let me back up a bit so I can explain what I’m getting at:

Awhile back, I read an amazingly insightful book called The Gift Of Fear. It has a lot of very good advice on recognizing and using the fear response to protect your safety and your life. Fear is often overlooked as a silly, primal thing, especially when we talk about children and things that go bump in the night, but there is a very good reasons why humans feel a variety of kinds of fear, and many of them are actively useful in preserving your life.

Darkness is essential to life. The day ends, and night falls. Shadows follow our moves and do as we do. Even the human eye cannot bear blue light at night, and artificial lighting has been touted as all kinds of unhealthy by experts and doctors alike.

None of these things are actively evil or wrong, to be sure.

But Pitch has something in common with Jack Frost. And what is that? Why, he is ignored. Nobody believes in him (which I find silly to be honest because I know plenty of kids afraid of the dark or who have nightmares and such).

The whole thing- the theatrical posing, the big scary Villain speech...in the end, Pitch was doing just the same thing that Jack did when he antagonized the Easter Bunny by ruining the egg hunt with frost. He wanted people to pay attention to him, to like him. And because nobody would do so, he decided that negative attention was still attention.

This is backed up by the fact that none of the children are harmed by his nightmare horses when faced with him (they turn into golden sand when touched). They even say, even with thousands of scary black nightmares bearing down on them, that they aren’t scared of him and will protect the Guardians.

I feel like Pitch is overlooking a couple of things when he is trying his ridiculous plan to rule the world in darkness.

First off, he’s backed himself into a corner- he plays the bad guy, of course he isn’t going to win against the heroes. And to some extent, it’s pretty obvious that he knows it. For all his posturing, he often pulls his punches, and even when he destroys Jack’s staff, he still throws it down on the ground and does not take it with him because he is trying to get Jack to see beyond his limitations just as he himself has learned to harness the sand with his darkness.

Secondly, just because kids love Santa and Easter and gifts from tooth fairies, not all kids have perfect upper-middle-class lives like the children in this movie. There is a reason why there are a surprisingly large number of hand-drawn comics that deal with a child making friends with the monster under the bed or even being protected by said monster against an abusive parent or family member.

My feeling here is that Pitch hasn’t truly realized what his purpose is, and that he is actually being held back because....

Pitch’s center is fear.

There’s a reason he’s portrayed as having a lair under a shabby, rotting bed, in darkness. When he was human, his life must have been hellish. I can imagine him hiding in the shadows of his room, crouched under the bed in darkness because the fear of what his father or mother might do to him was eating him alive. In fact, he may have died in that manner, terrified out of his mind and knowing only the darkness to hide him. If this is what the Man in the Moon deemed worthy to change him into his post-mortal form, then is any of this truly his fault?

I might say...no. Being awoken from a hellish world where you are in constant fear to a world in which fear and darkness are the only thing that strengthen you would be its own sort of hell.

We don’t get to see Pitch’s past, but ostensibly the Tooth Fairy has it and knows of it. A tooth is knocked out at the end, so ostensibly it will go in Pitch’s box, or the box of whoever he was when he was mortal.

But furthermore, what if Pitch were able to change the way he thinks about his power and his strength? What if he uses his darkness to conceal children who are in danger, or helps those who are imprisoned to escape? What if he guides children away from danger by using their fear to guide them? What I am saying is that “playing the villain” seems to be the most obvious thing when you’ve only ever known an existence in which you are hated and told you are wrong and bad.

However, if we really sit down and think about it, colored eggs and toys are no more “good” than shielding the weak and vulnerable with your shadows and putting the fear of...something that bumps in the night in the hearts of predators while guiding the fear of the young from forks in outlets and jumps from high places.

In the end, locking a being like Pitch away is a foolish idea because in his loneliness in the darkness, his fear and terror will only grow, driving him into madness in his isolation. Pitch not only has to learn to conquer his own fears (fear or being rejected, fear of being hated) but to also realize that he can be more than a flat villainous character if he wishes to thrive.

He just has to get past the fear.

#rise of the guardians #meta #jack frost #pitch #on fear #on lonliness #tw for light descriptions of abusive behavior

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affcgato-archived · 3 years

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BRIAR ROSE / MALEFICENT CROSSOVER

corrupted disney themed verse. this is an alternate universe themed verse based off of a fusion of canon from the shadowhunter chronicles & a corrupted hybridization of disney's sleeping beauty (specifically the lore established in the live action re-imaging maleficent) & tangled.

tag: → jonathan morgenstern // briar rose (v. — maleficent )

two different realms, together but apart, residing right at each other's doorsteps. that's how the kingdom of idris & the neighboring moors could be seen. people might travel through her paths, but the secret trails deeper into her wood remained hidden from all but those blessed by the inhabitants of the moor itself. the morgenstern family had grown up on the fringes of those same moors, & valentine was no stranger to the hidden paths & secret trails. he had a gift for exploring where he shouldn't, & one day it finally took him too far; after exploring the rivers that flowed through the moor, he came to a sheltered glade housing the most beautiful of flowers & pools of water that held precious gems. reaching to steal a gem from the pool, he was stopped by one of the wood-warders, poised to strike the insolent nephilim for trespassing.

lilith had lived all of her long, long life in the moors, barred from ever setting foot in the neighboring kingdom because of the old magic laced into her blood. she'd always been curious about the travelers who had come through the wood, particularly the young ones. there were no children in the moors, no youths or babes to be seen. the magic didn't allow for it - it preserved, but it did not create. nor had it, since the two realms where cut off from each other. laying eyes on valentine, it was the first time she had seen another who seemed even remotely like her in centuries. stopping him from taking the gem, she naively distracted him with stories of the flowers found deep in the moors that were the true treasure, thinking no such soul could ever venture that deep into the woods, nor would he remember her words after he had left the moor. she escorted him to the edge of the moor, but he made her promise to meet him again. desperate for connection, she agreed, & they met up many more times, each time with her telling him of her home deep in the moor.

years passed, & valentine rose in rank within the kingdom. the peace between the two realms was strained as the clave started to penetrate the moors for valuable resources - largely known to them from valentine's tales learned from none other than the protector of that realm herself. when an ambitious raiding party, made up of valentine's very family, was slaughtered within the woods, valentine confronted his once-seeming friend. while he could not kill her, he cut her with an adamas blade, spilling drops of her blood into the rare white flowers around them. furious at the betrayal, lilith cursed valentine & told him him to leave the moors; it would be his death if he returned.

valentine thought nothing of it, returning to idris & the woman he would eventually marry. he stayed there for the next long stretch of years, raising to prominence within the city. it seemed fine - he had a good life, all they had wanted was a child. it had seemed like such a simple thing at the time - until jocelyn fell ill with a sickness not even the court physicians seemed able to cure. after all this time, the tale of those rare white flowers came back to him, & valentine thought nothing of slipping out to the moors in the dead of night to gather them & make a draught that might strengthen her.

even so, after so many years away, the paths had changed, had become overgrown with briars & dark with neglect. he wandered too far & gathered too many of the precious simbelmynë, lingering too long in a place he had been bound never to enter again. lilith woke with a fury, & she didn't take kindly to nephilim trespassing in her domain to steal the flowers that awarded her her perpetual youth - especially not the one she viewed as TRAITOR. still, the memories they had shared so long ago kept her from killing him. she sent him away with a warning that he might take those precious sun-drop flowers that night, but she would take her payment in due time.

a boy was eventually born to the couple, & the kingdom could breathe a sigh of relief. a christening was the be held, with invitations going out far & wide beyond the borders of the small kingdom, to every corner of their little world... save one. the night of the christening, lilith slipped into the court to steal a lock of hair from the boy, intent to keep it in place of her stolen flowers, but the white-hot glow faded the moment the hair was cut from his head. realizing that the essence of her sun-drop flowers now resided in the boy, she gathered the boy up just as valentine & jocelyn came in to bring their boy to his christening. to show that i bear no ill-will, i too, shall bestow a gift on the child. her gift was thus; valentine would never see his son again. jonathan would grow strong, & graceful, but should he ever enter the kingdom again, he would fall into a deep, deep sleep that could only be broken by the power of true love's kiss.

with that, she stole the child away, taking him deep into the moors as the rest of the unknowing court celebrated with floating lanterns. jonathan was raised deep in the moors, kept restrained near the heart of the wood, cut off from all but the briefest glimpses of life beyond the moors. to further the divide, a thick fog rolled over the barrier between the realms, cutting them off to all but those who might discover the hidden pths by chance. lilith raised him as her own, having him learn the incantation that would activate the magic in his blood & perpetuate her youth, & her powers. he would grow up surrounded by this magic, learning it & developing an affinity for it, but every year he'd look to the sky & see the lanterns, wondering what might lie beyond his dream-like cage in the moors.

#long post #→ jonathan morgenstern // briar rose (v. — maleficent )#→ jonathan morgenstern // verse introduction #q.

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nad-zeta · 4 years

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Match up! ~(˘▾˘~)

Can I get a matchup? I’m 5'4 chubby pansexual girl. I have brown skin, dark brown eyes and short black curly hair that’s puffy and in a Afro when it’s out.I like cooking,singing, animals, video games, cuddles, hugs, playing with people’s hair and people playing with my hair. When you first meet me I may look mean but I’m kind, caring, goofy and sassy. I’m only mean when you mess with me, my family or friends. I’m a calm and laid back person but sometimes I can get mad easy but a hug calm me down.I’m a affectionate person and I don’t know why but I like the nickname babygirl.In my free time I like to read, listen to music and play with. I don’t like drama and fighting but I will fight if I have to. For some reason it’s seems like I’m always smiling sometimes I don’t know I’m smiling until somebody point it out.I like watching horror movies and playing horror games since I’m chubby Im really warm.

I really love your matchups you are a good writer☺️

Eeeep! 😱😱☺You are too kind!❤❤☺ Thank you so much for the kind words and the request dear. Also sorry for taking like 1 million years to get this written! I hope you enjoy it love and I hope you have a super good day! ❤❤🌻🦋

So I match you with…………….. Shingen

Naturally the first time Shingen laid eye on you, was when Yuki had saved you from plummeting to your death the night of the fire. You had ran and ran and ran to get away from Nobunaga and Hideyoshi, who spooked you by demanding to know who you were, and where you were from. Shingen spotted Yuki saving you from falling off the cliff and rode towards the two of you to make sure you guys were alright.

The second this man saw you he fell in love. You were unlike any woman he had ever seen before, the way you seemed to glow in the light of the full moon, had him absolutely speechless. Honestly, he thought, you must have been some sort of celestial being, with the way you shined.

He walked up to you and kissed your hand as he introduced himself. Your expression was taut, and Yuki couldn’t help but be slightly intimidated by your features, “Careful my lord, she looks mean.” Of course, that comment from the young man earned him a stony glare from you, which sent shivers down his spine.

Kenshin and Sasuke broke up the party as they arrived and the second Sasuke spotted you he sighed in relief, he had been looking for you for over four years. Before he could even offer you a place to stay, Shingen beat him to it. And that my friend is how you landed up in Kasugayama castle.

Shingen made sure to put you in a room fit for a princess, and he spent your first day at the castle showering you with gifts and trinkets. You honestly was so overwhelmed by the Kasugayama boys warm welcome, that you wanted to do something nice for them, to thank them. So you used your talents, to cook them each their favourite dishes to say thank you for the warm welcome. You made your way to Sasuke the next morning to ask him about all the warlords favourite foods so that you could start making your thank you gifts. You had decided to bestow it upon them at that evening’s banquet.

Sasuke smiled as you chartered down a list of everyone’s favourite snacks, and you got to work.

You had been in Kasugayama all of one week, and you really wanted to make Shingen’s dish extra special, as he had been the one who had most helped you to adapt to the castle life. He took time out of his schedule every day to show you around the castle and town. He would also pop into your room every day to enjoy a cup of tea with you.

That night at the banquet, Kenshin was getting rowdy as he usually does, insisting the boys fight him. You honestly disliked fighting and drama, so you decided to defuse the situation by handing out your special gifts. You started with Kenshin handing him a big jar of freshly made pickled plums. His eyes sparkled as he plucked one from the jar to prop it into his mouth. The bunny warlord was now sitting in his corner, happily munching away at the pickled treats. You couldn’t help but giggle, as the way he was stuffing his cheeks made him look like a cute bunny.

Next was Sasuke and Yukimura, you had found out that they both really enjoyed chestnut dumplings, so you handed them each a plate stacked high with the sugary delights. When it came to Yoshimoto, you were somewhat stumped as Sasuke had told you that he liked all foods that are delicious. So in the end you had decided to make for him your classic homemade stew, which he happily ate, all while wearing that elegant smile.

Finally you turned to Shingen, whose brown eyes lit up in excitement as you handed him a hefty package. He opened it and was awestruck at the array of sweets you had managed to prepared for him. Eyeing Yuki, he took you by the hand and led you to his room, so that he could peacefully munch on his candy without Yuki scolding him in the background. “You truly bless me, my goddess, I shall savour every bite of these heavenly treats.” The two of you sat, and nibbled on the sweets, while sipping on some tea as you chatted late into the evening under the light of the moon.

Needless to say, Shingen was already head over heels for you, from the first night the two of you met, however, every detail he learned about you just made him fall more and more in love. He loved how you were the kindest person he has ever met.

He loves how goofy and sassy you are, being able to easily match his wit and charm with your own. He can’t help but chuckle whenever you counter his flirty comments with a sassy remark. And he absolutely adores your goofy side. And he realises quickly that after just spending one afternoon with you, that he has never smiled and laughed as much in his whole life. You bring so much joy and love into his life; and he can’t help but fall in love.

And just when Shingen thought that he possibly couldn’t fall more in love with you, you just had to go and melt his heart into a puddle of pure happiness. It was no secret that you loved animals. You had taken up the duties of official Kasugayama animal caretaker. You would spend hours just playing with the warlord’s pets. If you weren’t cuddling with Kenshin’s army of fluff, you were playing fetch with Yukimura’s wolf pup. However, your favourite pet of all, to spend time with, was Shingen’s bear cub, which you had half and half adopted as your own pet. The little bear absolutely adored you and could often be found nestled on your lap enjoying the attention of you petting his soft fur as you read.

One day as you were reading to the little bear, a song popped in your head, and you started sing. At that exact moment, Shingen had walked by your room, and his heart was stolen, your voice was so smooth and beautiful. HE swore he had died and gone to heaven at the moment, hearing your angelic voice sing. It was then when he couldn’t hold back his feeling for you in any longer. He made his way into the room and told you just how much he loves and adore you.

The two of you were the cuddliest couple around. As Shingen absolutely loved to just hold you in his arms. You were so warm and soft, and all he wanted to do is shower you with kisses and worship you from dusk to dawn.

He loves to just spend every waking moment with his goddess. Of course, since the two of you got together, you let it slip that you loved being called baby girl. And boy oh boy, did he like that nickname, he legit would call you that, from that moment on wards.

He loves that you are always smiling, you are just so carefree and laidback. He can’t help but think of you as his own personal ray of sunshine, always beaming and making every room instantly brighter whenever you enter.

Of course, Shingen being the sneaky tiger he is, loves to tease his beloved goddess, which sometimes causes you to get mad at him. Although Shingen being the master of information, knows precisely how to get you to stop being mad at him, or out of any angry mood really. He will come up behind you and envelop you in a warm hug while kissing your ear and neck, all while whispering the sweetest words of affection to you, as he apologizes for teasing you. Of course, this causes you to instantly melt.

Shingen loves to spoil you. Whether that is with gifts or physical affection, this man just wants to shower you with endless amounts of love and affection. He absolutely loves to play with your hair. He can honestly spend hours upon hours just pulling his fingers through your lushes locks. If you want to make this man the happiest man alive, then play with his hair. He loves loves loves, it whenever you see him overworking himself, when you come up behind him and hug him. Bonus points if you gently pull him down to rest his head on your lap. He will practically be purring in delight as you tenderly pull your fingers through his hair while singing or reading to him. He will be like putty in your hands.

With Shingen, there is never a shortage of cuddles and hugs, this man will literally pull you into a warm embrace and shower your face with kisses whenever the two of you run into each other in the hallways

Often the two of you lovebirds can be found nestled in each other’s arms, under the light of the moon, sharing a drink. One of you is most likely always playing with the other’s hair as you share the events of your days with each other.

Other potential matches………… Masamune

I hope you enjoyed this, dear! 😳☺And I hope you have a super good day! @blackchubbyqueen ☺🌻❤🌻

#matchups #matches #match ups #ikesen matchup #ikemen shingen #ikesen shingen #shingen takeda #shingen matchup #ikemen sengoku shingen #submission

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multi-fandomfanfics · 5 years

Text

Forevermore

Dimileth week day 4 Wedding.

@dimilethweek

I got sleep when I was going to put this so now I'm late one day haha.

Words: Dunno bro 1500 or something

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was the day, a Day Fodlan had been waiting for a long time beside the end of war, the day the church and the kingdom will unite, the day where King Dimitri and Archbishop Byleth will marry finally! There was celebration outside and inside the castle, many people were celebrating, after a year and a half from the war ending the joyous couple will be together, everyone was waiting for this day, there were some who even needed this day to happen finally. Besides the people close to them both. But now, right now in a room very far away from the Archbishop was the king going from one side to another in the same direction.

"Calm down, it's nothing to be worried about"

"Calm down?! This is the most important day of my life I can't calm down!" Dimitri was trembling.

"Two days ago you needed the wedding to happen already you say 'i want to marry her already, I can't wait anymore!'" Sylvain Smirked

"I know I said that...but now it's real!"

Felix sighed.

"Oh I know! I could calm the ambient in the wedding!"

Both Dimitri and Felix looked at him.

"Really?"

"Of course that's what friends are for!"

Felix got a brown up.

"And how do you plan to do it?"

"Ah that's easy, when Rhea ask if someone wants to object I could just say anything coming to my mind"

Dimitri stopped his back to both Sylvain and Felix, he then turned around with a smile and go to Sylvain, took his shoulder still smiling and then opened his eye.

"Sylvain, if you as much try to object, joke or not I will Stab you with Areadbhar and let your body tangling in the front part of the church for everyone to see your body dying slowly, do you understand?"

Silence. And suddenly Sylvain feel pain on his shoulder, the one Dimitri took.

"I said, do. You. Understand?"

"Y-yes..."

Dimitri got away smiling

"Great"

Then there was a knock in the door.

And Dedue entered.

"His majesty, it's ready" his heart beat fast, it was time.

"Well Dimitri let's go, the sooner you get there the sooner you'll be married" At least Sylvain tried to sound relaxed. But at the very least Dimitri oblige and go to the outside, soon he was in the aisle.

Waiting, together with Rhea and at his back Sylvain and Felix.

he looked at Rhea She had her old clothes of archbishop, this was the last time she'll use it, She said it's like a wedding gift to them, beside the fact she's marrying them.

He looked at all the people here, his friends and Classmates, Professors and important people, Byleth's Gatekeeper friend, even Claude was there, looking at him he gave a thumps up smiling, why was he like that? Dimitri will never know...

And then he looked at the very end of the room, in a corner there was nothing special about it... But suddenly he remembered her... Her red cape her horns, her white hair and now she was looking at him with disdain. He couldn't heard anything beside her now.

"How lucky aren't you?"

Not now...

"Being happy after killing so many people"

Stop.

"Does the Professor even deserve someone like you?"

Stop....

"She dese-"

But he felt someone touching his shoulder, he looked and Dedue was there.

"Your Majesty"

Dimitri was surprised to see him, he said that he was going to abstain from being close so he could protect them both from anything.

"This is a happy day, please abstain from having bad thoughts today"

He relaxed, it was true... He smiled.

"Thank you Dedue"

He nodded and go back to his place in the entrance from where Dimitri came.

He was right, happy day, happy day! He was going to marry, to the woman of his dreams and love of his life.

Suddenly he heard the piano playing

Then the doors opened and Dimitri looked at them, there she was with that dress.. and that bouquet, and and her smile... She was an angel, she IS an angel he couldn't get the sight out of her, she looked so beautiful, the most beautiful sight his eye had fall upon, he was in a trance just for looking at her.

"Close your mouth you're drooling"

He heard Felix and did so.

She was finally in front of him Smiling as she never have done before, a pure, beautiful smile, all for him, all because of him. That smile it belonged to him.

He heard Rhea start talking about Joy and Goddess and other stuff, but he couldn't get his sight off Byleth, she was the Goddess.. quite literally, almost a week before she told him all she had done and how could she do it, her power, Sothis, her mother, her relationship with Rhea, no secrets, it's marriage after all, Trust is important.

And he thought he couldn't love her more than he did already that day he was wrong, all she lived to see the best future....

Why is taking so long for Rhea to end the speech? He wants to kiss her already...

"Do you, Byleth Eisner Accept Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd

to be your husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in heath, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

Just two words made him so happy...

"And you, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd do you take Byleth Eisner to be your wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in heath, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do" probably a bit to fast but, heck it was his wedding, only wedding.

"Very well"

She stopped for a moment and now looked at the entire church

"if anyone can show just a cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace"

Dimitri slowly and menacing looked behind him, and directed his sight at Sylvain who looked like he was going to say something but saw him and retracted his hand, looking away.

Dimitri looked at Byleth again, she was giggling under the veil and it was beautiful.

"Good, then, by the power the goddess bestowed upon me!"

Quite literally too...

"I declare you Husband and wife"

Finally!

"You can kiss the bride"

She didn't have to finish, Dimitri already got the veil up and kiss His wife as deeply as his heart could let him taking her face, wife... Wife! She was his wife now! For eternity, the rest of their lives.

After a while he finally separate, he was so concentrated in the kiss he didn't heard all the people clapping and celebrating at their side.

She took his hands softly.

"I love you" she smiled looking at his eye.

"I love you too beloved"

He felt peace.

Then the dinner came, everyone was talking and many came to them both giving congratulations and such

Claude then was in the center of the room, how he got the attention of all the room he would never know.

"I propose a toast!"

Then made his drink go to both him and Byleth

"For the Professor and Dimitri, to have an everlasting joy together!"

"Cheers!" Dimitri had a bit of a blush on his face while Byleth just happily took his hand below the table.

And then Sylvain got up.

"Well my friends as every wedding goes, there has to be a story about something. And I'm the best candidate to give an embarrassing story!"

"Goddess no..." Dimitri put his head on his hand.

"When Dimitri and all of us were on the academy, one day on his room"

"Oh no please...."

He covered his face with his hands and Byleth took his arm softly

"We were studying for the next exam the professor was going to do to us"

"This is worse than I thought..." She smiled

"And we were looking at some heights for weapons"

"My love please don't think less of me" Dimitri told her.

"Less of you?" She asked

"AND he said and i Quote, 'this is the same ... As professor's Breas-' he didn't finish but we know what he was talking about.

The room bursted in laughs from everywhere.

Dimitri covered himself deeper and looked through one finger at Byleth who was smiling at him.

"You're not mad?"

"Well it shows just how much you looked at me... Not so sweetly but at me nonetheless"

He smiled.

"Thanks beloved"

She keep her smile and took his hand again.

"Now my turn" he looked up looking at Felix who was smirking evingly.

"When we were childs"

"Oh no..."

All night was full of embarrassing stories about Dimitri, no one had one of Byleth except that time she fell on mud at middle of a lecture in the outside of the Blue Lions Classroom. But no one talks about that moment, no one, it's like a never told rule to never say it.

Dimitri looked his beautiful, kind, cute, voluptuous Wife... His wife!

Only his.

He put their foreheads together

"My love"

"Yes Dimitri?"

"Now our life's are together" Forevermore.

#dimileth week #dimileth #f!byleth x dimitri #dimitri x f!byleth #Wedding #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth eisner #now Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd

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hjbender · 5 years

Note

What foods is pregnant mer!loki going to crave? Human foods that make thor set up treaties with humans? Or just sea foods? And will thor build a sea shell bra for Loki? Bc its pretty and I imagine he would be jealous of other fish looking at Loki.

Take a deep breath, anon, ‘cause we’re diving in 💦

Tagged: underwater domestic fluff, mpreg, pregnant sea snakes, ambisexual merfolk, interspecies sex, lemon, pregnant mersex, worldbuilding, merfolk biology, large cock, hemipenes, lactation kink, humor; 2090k words

After the discovery of Loki’s pregnancy, Thor began preparing in earnest for anything and everything leading up to that momentous day. His people, the dolphin folk, were prone to strange symptoms when they were pregnant, and food cravings were a common occurrence. He vowed to do his best to keep Loki comfortable and happy during this time.

Loki was unconcerned. He was a sea snake after all, not one of the Dolfolk, and he fully expected to bypass all of the odd behaviors Thor described. Considering how well-developed his babies looked when he first saw them swirling in green mist above his cauldron, he was probably well past those stages anyway.

But that wasn’t the case.

“My people carry their offspring for over a year,” Thor explained, stroking Loki’s belly as they lay tangled together in a soft, comfortable bed of sea ferns. “Considering how extraordinary ours will be, it might take even longer.”

Loki sat up with wide eyes. “An entire year?”

“At the very least.”

His pupils shrank into horrified slits.

Over a year being pregnant? He couldn’t possibly last that long! The six little hybrids he carried in his belly already appeared to be full term. He was expecting this to be a short pregnancy followed by a quick, easy birth. A few good pushes and splish splash sploosh, out pop six wriggling tadpoles who instinctively knew how to swim and scavenge and survive on their own. Not that Thor planned to let them do that. No, the Dolfolk raised their young and lived with them for most of their lives, Loki knew. They had large extended families and their social structure was close and complex.

Loki, on the other hand, had never met his parents or any of his siblings. The Serpenians were a solitary, self-sufficient race who came together only during mating season once every few years. Pregnancies lasted a mere couple of months, then they birthed their snakelets in shallow waters and promptly abandoned them, allowing them to make their own way. Some of the young fell prey to the many predators and dangerous things that lived in the sea. The survivors endured and reached maturity, forming the new generation. Serpenian babies were born tiny but they were hardy and full of instinct. There wasn’t cruelty or malice behind these traditions. It was simply the way of Loki’s people, how things had been done for millennia.

But the babies Loki carried weren’t entirely Serpenian. They were part Dolfolk and they certainly shared their father’s gift for harnessing electrical energy, even at this early stage in their development. It made Loki wonder; if his babies were already this developed, then what were they going to do until they were born?

The answer was grow. Grow, emit occasional bursts of bioelectric power, and make their mother’s hormones fluctuate more times per day than the tide.

At eight weeks, three-quarters of the way through a typical Serpenian pregnancy, Loki’s sex drive suddenly increased tenfold. Thor was tremendously pleased by this and was ready at any given moment to offer his body to appease Loki’s needs. He had always admired (and envied) Loki’s hemipenes, the impressive pair of organs that everted when he was aroused, but it was the sweet little slit below them that he truly loved to lavish with attention. It wept for over a week, constantly producing a slick mucus that aided their lovemaking and allowed Thor’s pointed, 18-inch prehensile cock to seat itself completely inside Loki, causing his belly to bulge with its mass.

In this state of carnal euphoria, Loki would remain coupled with Thor for hours at a time, his tail wrapped around Thor’s while his sheath clenched tightly and milked Thor’s seed from him, eliciting as many as a dozen orgasms in a single hour. Because Thor could move his penis at will, he was able to selectively seek out Loki’s many erogenous spots and repay the pleasure. It was especially titillating to see Loki’s belly shift with his organ’s movements. Loki both praised and cursed Thor for his beautiful, beastly anatomy, weak moans of ecstasy on his quivering lips.

But even in the throes of intercourse, he still managed to retain a maternal concern for his unborn offspring.

“Oh, Thor, the babies,” he panted, heaving lungfuls of bubbles into the water as Thor’s cock writhed ruthlessly inside him, hitting all of his sweet spots at once. “Don’t hurt the babies!”

“The babies are safe,” Thor murmured. He stroked Loki’s back soothingly and nuzzled his neck as they lay belly to belly with one another, rocking against the sandy seabed. “They are sealed in your womb, and your womb will protect them. Do not fear. I cannot harm them.”

Loki pulled back a little to look down at his stomach, his small bump tingling with electrical activity. “But I can feel them moving. They’re jumping and wriggling and there’s so mu—ah! So much energy they’re producing!”

“They are simply excited that their mother is excited,” Thor said with a breathless smile. “After you climax, they will settle down and sleep once more.”

Loki smirked breathlessly and pulled Thor close. “Perhaps we can rock them to sleep.”

Thor growled in agreement and slowed his thrusts, rolling his hips in smooth, serpentine motions, just as Loki had taught him.

They made love in this way for another half hour until neither could last another minute. They climaxed together, Thor coating Loki’s overfull sheath with his seed; it leaked out around his softening cock and turned into cloudy white tendrils in the water. Loki collapsed into the sand, sated and happy, and the stirrings inside him gradually quieted.

At sixteen weeks, Loki was possessed by cravings. Soon Thor spent more time out hunting for treats than in his mate’s company. He worked tirelessly to bring Loki anything he wanted, often robbing fishermen’s traps and stealing from their nets. It was dangerous, Thor knew. The alliance between men and merfolk was tenuous at best and treacherous at worst. If he were caught, there was a slim chance he would be released. He would be forced to fight for his freedom and possibly his life. Though he was getting better at controlling his powers, he knew he could shock only a small crew to incapacitation. A larger crew armed with poles and pikes and clubs… that worried him.

And Loki worried for him as well. “Whatever you do, stay away from the Sandmaster. If you’re caught by him, you’ll never escape.”

Thor frowned. “The Sandmaster?”

“You’ll know him by his ship.” Loki’s knuckles popped as he wrung his hands. “It’s called the Sakaar, and it’s painted gold and blue and red. His nets are unbreakable. His traps bear the name of Gast. Stay away from them, Thor. Don’t even go near them. Promise me.”

Thor nodded slowly after a moment. “I promise.”

Loki continued to fidget. “It’s not just the Sandmaster you need to watch out for. I hear his brother keeps merfolk prisoner at a place called Knowhere Island. He collects them like trophies. He’s always looking for rare sea creatures to add to his menagerie. His ship is the Tivan and it has a black hull with white trim.” He placed his hand on his growing belly and gazed at Thor seriously. “I cannot raise our children alone, Thor. I need you. Our babies will need you. Please, stay away from those humans. I can do without lobster but I can’t do without you.”

Thor smiled at Loki tenderly and swam over to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Do not fret, Loki. I give you my word I shall return to you.” He passed his hand over Loki’s swollen midsection and sent a warm, comforting pulse of electricity to his sleeping babies. “To all of you.”

And he always did.

Thor never saw the Sakaar or the Tivan on his hunts, but he did come across a line of traps on the seafloor bearing the name of Gast. The contents were exactly what he was looking for—giant crustaceans that would feed Loki’s cravings for the next four months—but he recalled his beloved’s warning to him and the promise he’d given him. And Thor turned and swam as fast as he could.

There would be other traps. Nothing was worth risking his life over. Very soon he was going to be a father; he would have a family to take care of, a mate that would need him, little ones to raise. He wanted to be there for them. And by Aegir’s scales, he would be.

Sometime around the six-month mark, Loki returned to his lair after a day spent browsing the reefs to find Thor waiting with a grin and a curious garment to bestow him.

“It’s for your comfort,” he explained, slipping the beautiful sea silk and abalone-embellished brassiere around Loki’s flat chest. It was unusually loose in the front. “We call it a brace.”

Loki was puzzled by the oversized fit. “It’s very lovely, Thor, but what in the Seven is it for?”

Thor blinked. “It’s… for when your milk comes in.”

Now it was Loki’s turn to stare. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your milk. You”—Thor’s smile flickered weakly—“when your breasts swell and begin to produce milk. You will surely be sore from feeding six babies several times a day, and this will prevent you from moving about too much. And, er”—a slight blush crept across his cheeks—“it will deter unwholesome gazes. You are sure to be engorged as your date approaches, and certain males are aroused by the sight of a mother’s full breasts. The brace will offer a modest cover if you attract unwanted atten—what is so funny?”

Loki stopped chuckling and took a breath. “Oh, Thor. Serpenians don’t give milk!”

Thor’s excitement deflated faster than a popped blowfish. “Wh… but.” His eyes drifted down to Loki’s chest. “But you have nipples.”

“So do you. And like yours, they will yield nothing, I’m quite sure.”

To say Thor was sad would be a hilarious understatement. He was devastated. “But… but our babies,” he whimpered. “What will they eat? How will they survi—”

“Oh, Thor, Thor.” Loki smiled patiently and glided forward, wrapping his tail around Thor’s and resting his arms on his shoulders. “Dear Thor, fretful father-to-be. Our babies are sea snakes. Or at least part sea snake. They will be born with teeth. They will survive as I did, eating small creatures and plants. You worry needlessly.”

The heartbroken look on Thor’s face did not fade. “But I was… I was looking forward to taking care of them. Of you holding them close and feeding them. That bonding. I didn’t think. I never knew you…”

Loki snickered as Thor struggled for words, stroking his fingers through his flowing golden hair. “They shall be cared for. You and I will hold them and feed them by hand, and they will develop the family bond that is so important to your people. They shall know both our worlds and yet belong to one of their very own. Don’t despair, Dada. Everything will be fine.”

Thor grinned meekly as Loki kissed the corner of his bristly mouth. “Well, I… was also rather looking forward to playing with your breasts. I mean, er, massaging them, of course. Making them feel better. And I could help you get rid of any, um… excess supply.”

Loki arched a brow, already intrigued. “Hmm,” he purred, “so you are one of those awful, unwholesome males who is aroused by the sight of a mother’s full breasts, are you?”

“Only yours, Loki,” he answered, but his smirking face was a red as a boiled crab.

Loki laughed and locked his hands together behind Thor’s head, flicked his tail, and pulled Thor toward the dark bower of his kelp bed. “Why don’t we give it a try, then? Milk or no milk, you could still make a meal of me.” His tongue darted out and playfully brushed against Thor’s lips.

Thor went cross-eyed for a moment. He shook it off with a brilliant smile and slipped his arms around Loki’s waist, feeling the six products of their love press warmly against him.

“No, I will make a feast of you,” Thor rumbled, reaching down between them and palming Loki’s genital slit, finding it already slick and engorged.

Loki grinned sharply and pulled Thor backward into the waving stalks of kelp. They disappeared with a flash of blue and green tails.

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