#my woodland goddess

[storyofmychoices]

Babe, there's no flowers on this dress. But she is so pretty we'll forgive you (and PB). She'll happily commune with you though, outfit or not.

[bethanydelleman]

I was looking at poetry that Jane Austen might have read and I came across Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. She sounds like an amazing woman. She thought her governess was dumb, so she hid in the family library and, "She taught herself Latin, a language usually reserved for men at the time. She secretly got a hold of a "Latin dictionary and grammar" and by the age of thirteen, her handling with the language was on par to most men. Furthermore, she was also a voracious reader."

She married an ambassador to the Ottoman empire and brought smallpox inoculation back to England. She was also a poet and important writer. In addition, she laughed at poet Alexander Pope (he is quoted in Austen's works) when he declared his love for her. (pictured below). (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_Mary_Wortley_Montagu)

The fact that someone heard about this proposal and then painted it is *chef's kiss*

(Edit) Here is the poem I used in a story:

A Hymn to the Moon

Written in July, in an arbour Thou silver deity of secret night, Direct my footsteps through the woodland shade; Thou conscious witness of unknown delight, The Lover's guardian, and the Muse's aid! By thy pale beams I solitary rove, To thee my tender grief confide; Serenely sweet you gild the silent grove, My friend, my goddess, and my guide. E'en thee, fair queen, from thy amazing height, The charms of young Endymion drew; Veil'd with the mantle of concealing night; With all thy greatness and thy coldness too.

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖑𝖐𝖞 𝕭𝖊𝖉 𝖂𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖌𝖍

𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟺 - 𝙽𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 ~ 𝙰 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗'𝚜 𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜

Words: ~1.6k

Relationship: nymph!Wanda Maximoff x goddess of spring!reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (chase kink, food in a sexy scenario, analingus, body worship), sex outdoors, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

The clouds parted and the sun rose warm in the sky as your eyes at last fluttered open after your long slumber. It was finally time, your season, the awakening of the earth and the beginning of new growth. You slowly rose to your feet and breathed deep of the fresh spring air, looking out at the frozen land that was waiting to be rejuvenated by your touch.

As you began your trek down from your mountain you smiled warmly, hyacinths and irises and peonies blooming each place your feet met the earth while new green life spread across the land in front of you. Frost and ice broke away from the ponds and rivers when the sun’s rays reached them. Birds and animals chirped and sang, filling the air with the sweet sounds of rebirth as they rose from their winter hibernation and came to greet you. A lark fluttered around you with a symphony of twitters before landing on your outstretched hand, preening its feathers as it whistled before taking flight again.

By the time you reached the foot of your mountain the land was lush and green, the air filled with the verdant fragrances of spring that made you feel so alive and powerful. You took one more deep breath and spread your arms wide, beaming when the entirety of the land sprang to life at once and basking in the sunlight.

That was when you heard it. That lovely laugh that lilted like a song through the air. The murmuring splashes and soft singing of woodland nymphs as they bathed. It was her. Your love. The only thing aside from the growth of spring that you longed for during your time of sleep. As you came upon the still pool where the maidens bathed you felt your breath catch, the sunlight glittering on the surface of the water and on the flawless skin of your beloved when she rose from the depths with a beautiful sigh.

“Wanda!” You let out a delighted laugh when she turned to face you and blushed, her ginger hair flowing around her bare shoulders and her blue eyes sparkling with playful desire. “I see your thoughts, my love. If you run, I will catch you and drink my fill of your sweet pleasure.”

“My goddess…” she stretched her lithe, naked body and giggled when you let out a low sound of want, taking a few steps away from you towards the opposite end of the pond. “If I did not run, you would not love me as you do.”

That was the only warning you had before she took off at a sprint. You chuckled to yourself before beginning to pursue her, your steps fleet across the green earth and making trees and flowers spring up in your wake. Her laughter made your grin grow even wider. She was right, you did enjoy chasing her down before you lost yourself in the heady pleasures of her soft flesh.

Rivers and hills passed the both of you by as you chased her, the land sloping towards the sea as you moved further and further from your mountain. Her laughter was like music that rang through the valleys and forests, birds and animals joining her song as they rose from their winter sleep. Deer and foxes ran with your beloved, their cheerful yips and cries echoing her joy and only making your desire for her grow deeper. She was the embodiment of life and happiness, of everything that belonged to your season. And though she ran and played the shy coquette, she was yours.

Wanda’s voice was teasing and bright as she called your name over her shoulder, the sway of her hips enticing you to run after her even faster as she bent to pluck a sweet smelling hyacinth and breathe in its scent. She leapt over a brook and squealed when she felt the tips of your fingers graze against her heel, changing direction quickly so you could not catch her. You could smell her. Above even the scent of the new flowers you could smell the warm and fertile wetness between her thighs that called to you.

Though Wanda was quick, she was not as quick as you. But then, she did not truly wish to be. She squealed with glee when your hand wrapped around her knee and pulled her to the ground, her eyes bright when she beamed at you over her shoulder when you pounced on top of her. The rest of her playful noises were muffled by your lips as you bent to give her the most luscious of kisses, the sweetness of her plump lips making you moan into her mouth as you pressed her into the warm earth.

Wanda laughed lightly when you turned her onto her back and nibbled on the tip of her nose, her fingers teasing along the curve of your waist. Out of thin air a honeycomb appeared in your outstretched hand, the two of you sharing a pair of warm smiles before you pressed the comb to her lips and let her taste the sweetness of spring. Her eyes fluttered as you smeared the precious golden syrup all over her full lips and let it slither over her tongue and down her throat. Your lips were quick to chase the drops that escaped from the corners of her mouth, your tongue flicking out to trace the viscous trails left along her soft, pale skin.

You dragged the comb down her chin and then the slender column of her neck. You wanted her nubile body covered in honey, to taste the luscious flavor of her sweat mixed with the sweet syrup. When your tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat to lap up the golden nectar she sighed, making you grin when the soft sound of her pleasure made a smattering of asters bloom around her.

“My dear, sweet love,” your lips met Wanda’s skin between each word. “My beloved nymph,” the honey dribbled over the gentle swells of her breasts, followed closely by your eager tongue. “How I miss you when I slumber.”

“My goddess, oh!” Her sudden gasp when your lips brushed against her stiffened nipple made Olympus yarrow join the aster that was springing up in an ever growing ring around the two of you. “I have missed you too, so much…”

“I know.” The fragrance of the flowers and the warmth of the sun bathed the two of you in a haze of passion, Wanda’s breaths turning shallow and quick as your mouth left a wake of fire along her tapered waist. “Sing your song for me, my nymph.”

Wanda groaned when you turned her so she was laying on her stomach, biting her lip when you pressed the honeycomb to the firm skin of her back until she could feel the thick, sticky sweetness creeping down the curve of her spine. Your mouth ardently pursued the path of honey as your beloved whimpered and moaned, your teeth sneaking past the cushions of your lips to nip at the small of her back. The comb kept traveling lower and so did your mouth, worshiping her perfect, alabastrine skin as she spread her legs for you and arched her back. When Wanda felt your fingers opening her up and the warm honey dribbling over the dusky folds of her anus she gasped, her voice rising in timbre as your tongue fluttered and lapped at her sensitive flesh.

Her voice was musical and dulcet as you continued to lavish her body with passionate attention, your fingers and tongue leaving her sex covered in the syrupy evidence of your love for her. The pitch of her voice let you know that her mind was fully consumed by the pleasure you were giving her, her existence narrowed to only you and the pleasure you gave her as more spring growth bloomed around the two of you. Your tongue pushed past her tight ring of muscle at the same time your fingers slipped inside her pretty pussy and when she cried out softly you grinned against her.

Already you could tell your love was close, her staccato breaths and the way her toes and fingers curled letting you know just how lost in her pleasure she was truly. Every breath and sound she made was pure and primal, out of her control as she offered herself to you as a loving sacrifice for the new birth of spring. There was nothing on the earth for her except you and your touch, the unending ecstasy only you were able to give her. Your tongue and lips kept moving reverently against the most secret part of her as her body wound tighter and tighter, her slick inner walls clenching around your fingers while your thumb gently circled her swollen clitoris until she truly was singing for you.

Wanda screamed your name as she fell apart at your touch. It was more lovely than the singing of the birds or the falling rain, everything about your beloved was the epitome of beauty. You drank up her bliss gluttonously, catching every drop on your tongue before draping your body over hers so your head was resting on her shoulder. A glade had grown around the two of you as you pleasured your nymph, poppies and anemones surrounding a sparkling pond as the shade of a fig tree kept you cool. She rolled over and let her eyes flutter as you ran your fingers through her silky hair, her own fingers trailing along your side until she was tickling your hip.

“My goddess,” Wanda purred and bit her lip as she gazed at you with adoration. “It is your season, my beloved. Let me worship at your altar so you can give the earth new life.”

[jessamine-rose]

⋆‧͙*̩̩͙꒰ Disjecta Membra ꒱*̩̩͙‧͙⋆

*sigh* idk what to say at this point. I’m not even a major simp for the Jester but the Pierro brainrot was very infectious. Y’all can thank @frogchiro​ for converting me and @seakicker​ for inspiring this fic  =_=

As always, thank you to @diodellet​ for suffering with me as my peer reviewer!! I’m also grateful to Kin for helping with my characterization of Pierro. I ended up writing about a very detailed darling, but I hope you enjoy their twisted tale nonetheless :>

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping, coercion, blood, violence, death, psychological trauma, self-deprecation, needles, spice, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female reader who is a fallen goddess, pre-release Pierro

♡ 14.9k words under the cut ♡

i. memento mori

You cooked too much food again.

You stare at your dinner. Out of habit, you had also set the table for two and filled both plates before realizing your mistake. You can’t finish the cream stew all by yourself.

Great, more stale leftovers.

You shake your head and pick up your spoon.

Old habits die hard. You’d made the same mistake before, but it had taken less time for you to adjust. It was easier when someone was still there to correct you.

The kitchen is too quiet. You can only manage a few bites before you grow sick of the empty chair across from you. Picking up your plate and cutlery, you go outside and take a seat at the temple entrance.

The forest is the same as usual, shrouded in a veil of mist. Through the haze, you can spot a few woodland critters darting to and fro. Somewhere in the trees, a pair of birds are singing a harmonious duet. The pasithea flowers are in full bloom.

You wave your hand and the mist rises. The berry bushes look ripe for picking. You can already imagine the many—no, Oizys won’t be here to enjoy your cooking.

“Help.”

You startle. Has a human entered your territory?

You can sense a distressed voice along with weak movement. From what you can tell, the wanderer must be at the edge of the forest, close enough to reach the mist.

You fix your veil, draping the sheer fabric over your face, and leave the temple.

It doesn’t take long to find him. The human is slumped against a tall tree surrounded by achlys flowers. His breathing feels unsteady.

“Hello?” You slowly approach him, clearing the mist.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. You lean down to examine him.

The poor thing looks close to death. His silver hair is messy and there is a cut on the side of his face. Judging by the weapons on his person, could he be a combatant? No, his torn clothes look too fancy for an ordinary soldier.

You tap his shoulder. “Can you hear me, dear?”

He opens his eyes.

Four-pointed stars.

You draw back. Those diamond-shaped pupils...this human is clearly from Khaenri’ah.

He lifts his head, blinking blearily. Based on appearance alone, he seems too weak to attack you.

You don’t sense anyone else within the forest. You could easily give this person first aid then hide in your temple. It shouldn’t take long for him to find the city once he recovers.

A hand weakly grips your wrist. The Khaenri'ahn dazedly looks up at you.

“Who are you?”

No, that would be absolutely cruel.

You crouch down, touching his forehead with the back of your hand. His temperature is too warm. And now that you’ve taken a closer look, is that blood on his clothes?

“Shh, it’s all right,” you whisper, offering a soft smile. “You’re safe here.”

The Khaenri'ahn stares at you for a few more seconds before his eyes flutter shut. His hand lets go of your wrist and falls to his side—did he pass out already?

You glance at the berry bushes and mutter a silent apology.

At least your dinner won’t go to waste.

ii. mea culpa

Thankfully, the Khaenri'ahn’s injuries aren’t too severe. After treating his wounds, you tuck him in bed and wait for him to wake up.

Even in slumber, his expression is weary. There are faded scars mixed in with his bandages. Has he been wandering Teyvat since the fall of his nation? How did he survive?

What should you do with him?

His expression stirs, followed by a pained noise. The diamond pupils are exposed.

“Ah, you’re awake!” you exclaim, rushing to his bedside. “Do you feel better?”

“What?” He turns his head in your direction, clearly confused.

You raise a cup to his lips. “Here, drink some water first.”

He finishes the entire glass. You point at the pitcher on the nightstand.

“Are you still thirsty? Or would you like something to eat?”

He shakes his head, looking at you warily. “Not now…where am I?”

“You’re in a safe place.” You smile, placing a hand on his bandaged shoulder. “No one will hurt you in my temple.”

His eyes widen. “Your temple?”

He lunges forward. A shocked cry leaves your lips as he sits up and grabs your arm.

“You.” His gaze turns hostile. “You are a god.”

Huh, he found out sooner than intended.

“That I am.”

You might as well reveal your true form. Wispy gray marks spread across your skin.

He holds your arm in a bruising grip. “What do you intend to do with me?”

“Believe it or not, I wanted to save your life.” You hold his gaze through your veil. “Don’t worry, even if my intentions were cruel, I am quite harmless for a god.”

“And who are you, exactly?”

You wince as he strengthens his hold on you. Are humans normally this strong?

“You may call me ______,” you reply calmly. “That is the name I go by nowadays. But since you are asking for my true identity, I’ll be honest: I am █████ the God of Mist.”

He glances at the shadowy swirls on your arm. “I have never heard of your title.”

“That is to be expected,” you reply. “Now could you please let go of me? I understand your aggression, but I can’t properly care for you with a broken arm.”

The Khaenri'ahn’s gaze is clear this time. Those diamond pupils fixate on your face then his bandages. After looking around the guest room, he reluctantly lets go of you.

“There, was that so difficult?” you ask him. “I am sure that you have many questions, and I can promise you my full honesty. But for now, you must rest.”

“I can—”

He tries to leave the bed, only to stumble. You catch him in time.

“Now, what did I tell you? Don’t overexert yourself.” Shaking your head, you help him back into bed. “May I know your name, dear?”

The distrustful look he gives you is an adequate response.

“Not willing? Fine, that is a wise precaution.” You check your arm for lingering marks from his grasp. “Moving on, I cooked cream stew earlier. Would you like some?”

A moment of silence precedes his response.

“Yes,” he mutters sheepishly, “and pardon my hostility.”

You smile at him. “No offense taken. It isn’t everyday that someone treats me this way.”

*✧･ﾟ

The Khaenri'ahn remains cautious. In a few weeks, he regains enough strength to leave his bed and walk around the temple. You regularly change his bandages.

“Good, you don’t seem to be sick anymore.” You remove your hand from his forehead and leave the temple. “But it will take more time for your injuries to heal.”

It would be faster if Vesta were here.

He follows you. Since leaving the guest room, he has been watching you go about your daily routine. Cooking, foraging, doing laundry, cleaning the temple, checking the animal traps.

“For a god, you live quite a humble lifestyle,” he muses. “I assumed that you would have a horde of followers catering to your every need.”

“Hardly!” you scoff. “That isn’t my style of worship.”

The path ahead of you is obscured by mist. You are quick to catch the Khaenri'ahn when he trips on the steep slope.

“Are you all right?”

“I am fine,” he mutters, averting eye contact. “Where are your followers to begin with? I have not encountered any since entering this forest.”

“That is because they are all here.”

You wave your hand and the mist disperses.

The Khaenri’ahn stops in his tracks. “This is…”

The pasithea flowers have overtaken the cemetery. You walk past the gravestones towards a pair of half-broken statues.

“I suppose you’d like an explanation. Do you know about the Archon War?”

A short pause. “I have heard stories.”

Good, you don’t need to explain that far into history.

The pasithea flowers are concentrated around the shorter statue. Deep blue flowers sprout from the cracks, concealing her face.

“This isn’t my original territory,” you explain. “Before, I shared a vast area of land with three other gods. We retreated to this forest with our followers during the war.”

The Khaenri’ahn walks over to the other statue. “They survived as well?”

His face is discolored. A damaged Claymore rests in his hands, never to be used again.

You cover the statue’s eyes with mist. “Yes, but they’re currently dead.”

Silence. Picking up a broom, you sweep the leaves around the statues.

“At first, we defended our territory,” you continue. “That was the option I voted for, but we fled after Vesta was slain. A few centuries later, Pasithea succumbed to erosion. Wait, do I need to explain what erosion is?”

He shakes his head. “I can discern the meaning of the term. You may continue.”

“Okay then. In Pasithea’s case…she went mad and it affected our people. So one of her followers decided to end her misery.”

You sidestep a patch of pasithea flowers. If you try hard enough, you can still recall the lyrics to her lullabies.

“By the time I sensed them, it was too late…her death plagued everyone in the forest with insanity, and only a few survived. And before that, I learned that my friend Havria—she established her own new territory in Liyue—was also slain by her people.”

The Khaenri’ahn remains silent. You move on to a row of gravestones engraved with curlicues.

“Over time, my followers died out. The last ones lost faith in me and left; many switched to my last friend Oizys. I don’t blame them. His fortune, Vesta’s warmth, Pasithea’s dreams…what I gave them was incomparable. All my mist did was hide them from the world.”

“And what happened to Oizys?” he asks tensely.

You hesitate. “He died at the start of the war between Celestia and Khaenri’ah. He was on the gods’ side. A few weeks after he left, I discovered his body near the forest. I…I guess he used the last of his strength to come home.”

Tears prick the corners of your vision. You straighten your veil and walk over to Oizys’s grave, noting the Khaenri’ahn’s wary expression.

“And you do not resent my people for slaying your friend?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I’d rather not cause any more deaths. And I should be asking you the same question, really.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Until now, no grass has grown over his grave. Maybe you should try planting berries.

“I took a neutral stance during the Cataclysm,” you explain, “and that angered Oizys; he always called me too kind for my own good. But if I was truly kind, shouldn’t I have stopped him from joining the war? Shouldn’t I have cared more about his future victims?”

How long will it take for his body to decompose? Is his soul at peace?

“Maybe he would still be alive. Maybe your nation would have more survivors.”

The silence is heavy. You turn to the Khaenri’ahn, noting his solemn expression.

What did it feel like to lose all of his loved ones at once? Is it even possible for him to mourn their deaths?

Finally, he looks up to face you. There is no anger in his gaze, only sympathy.

“I did not advocate for the war, either,” he says, “but I was only a mage in the royal court. For that reason, the previous ruler heeded the sages’ words over my own.”

“I see.” You put down the broom and turn away from the statues. “Let’s go. It will take half a day to clean this place, and you need more rest.”

He follows you. “If you insist.”

The two of you leave the cemetery. The area is once again shrouded in mist.

The Khaenri’ahn meets your gaze. “I am sorry for your loss, ______.”

“I must say the same to you.”

He’s had less trouble walking lately. Soon enough, he will be able to leave the forest.

You walk ahead. “Once you have fully recovered, I expect you to leave. If you don’t have a clear destination in mind, I can guide you to Oizys’s city or draw a map of Teyvat for you.”

He responds quickly this time. “Of course, I would not want to overstay my welcome.”

“Oh, it’s not that.” You turn around to face him, a sad smile on your face. “It’s for your own good, dear. There is no future for you here.”

*✧･ﾟ

After your visit to the cemetery, the Khaenri’ahn begins helping around the forest. You initially disapprove of it but he is insistent on “repaying your kindness.”

He doesn’t divulge any more personal information apart from the fact that he lived with an outlander for some time. You ask him general questions about Khaenri’ah’s culture instead; in turn, he inquires about your glory days.

“Are your old temples still standing?” he asks.

You focus on the chessboard. “The last time I checked, all of them succumbed to the elements. My friends’ temples are more intact; some of my statues are kept there.”

The Khaenri’ahn moves a black pawn. “And they remain in their place, unbothered?”

You make your next move. “More or less. I’ve run into a few adventurers, and they make the wildest assumptions about my images. They would be quite disappointed if they knew what the real thing is like.”

He looks around the temple. Your religious art had been destroyed years ago.

“I can only imagine what it is like to encounter the remnants of your previous existence. It must conjure painful memories.”

You change the topic. “Have you planned your next destination?”

“I am still undecided.”

“Maybe this question will help: What will you do now?”

The Khaenri’ahn doesn’t need bandages anymore. After months of his silent company, his departure will leave a new gap in your daily routine.

“You could start over in another nation. I’d suggest the city of Miseria as a new home; it is still thriving after Oizys’s death.”

He picks up another chess piece, planning his next move.

You continue speaking. “Or you could search for fellow survivors, maybe even preserve what is left of Khaenri’ah. Your life does not end with your nation. After some time…you will eventually move on from the calamity.”

The chess piece cracks in his hand.

You look up immediately. The Khaenri’ahn glares at you.

“Move on?” he asks angrily. “After the destruction I have witnessed, acceptance would be the most humiliating form of defeat.”

The diamonds in his eyes flash. This is your first time seeing him in such a furious state.

You glance at his clenched fist. You will need to replace the black king.

“In that case,” you reply carefully, “is vengeance a preferable option for you? It is one thing to live with resentment but taking action is a different matter.”

He returns the king to its original square and moves his queen instead. “At the moment, I have no concrete plan. But so long as I can remember the flames of Celestia’s cruelty, I would like to see them extinguished.”

“...Then so be it.”

You analyze the chessboard. The Khaenri’ahn turned out to be a formidable opponent. With how he constantly surprises you, you have no doubt that he will do well.

You are absolutely cornered. He topples your white king, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

“Checkmate.”

iii. damnatio memoriae

The remaining weeks are dreamlike. You enjoy more meals, conversations, and chess games with your temporary companion. He has more energy these days, perhaps motivated by your earlier conversation. He even smiles on a few occasions.

It only makes his departure more difficult.

“Do you have everything you need?”

The Khaenri’ahn doesn’t stop to check his bag. “You have already given me more than enough for my travels.”

“Are you sure? Do you need more food? Another blanket?”

“I can take care of myself henceforth.”

How can he be so sure?

The mist swirls around you. You guide him to the edge of the forest.

“Then I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

The Khaenri’ahn steps out of the mist. He looks nothing like the pitiful creature you first met. No traces of sickness or injury. Mended clothes—he even allowed you to embroider stars and diamonds over the holes. A bright, determined gaze directed at you.

“Thank you for everything,” he tells you. “Had you not saved me, I would have lost hope ages ago.”

You smile, shaking your head. “That was nothing, dear. Thank you for your company.”

What will he do now? Will he really seek vengeance against Celestia?

He glances at the expanding mist. “Will you remain in your territory?”

“Of course, someone needs to take care of the cemetery. Oh, and…” Your voice trails off, a pause where his unknown name should be. “I have one last thing to say to you.”

He resumes eye contact. “Yes?”

He will be fine. It would be selfish to keep him here.

The mist recedes. You lift your veil, smiling.

“Your feelings are valid. If resentment is what drives you to continue living, then let it be. What matters is that you are still alive.”

So long as he doesn't give up.

The Khaenri’ahn doesn’t say anything at first. He stares at your face, likely taking in the details usually hidden by your veil. Why, though? He has seen it plenty of times during your meals together.

You clasp your hands around his. “Take care. May you find your new purpose in life.”

That draws him out of his stupor. He nods, standing up straighter.

“Your kindness will not be forgotten, ______.”

With that, he turns around and walks in the direction of Miseria. You remain in your spot, watching his figure shrink then disappear over the horizon. Not once does he turn around.

Back to your old routine.

The temple is too quiet. The dishes are still in the sink, speckled with crumbs of berry pie. The guilt finally sets in as you pick up the Khaenri’ahn’s—no, Oizys’s plate and clean it.

You put your tableware in the dish rack. Oizys’s is transferred to the cupboard, placed beside the three long-discarded sets.

*✧･

Time passes so slowly these days.

Even before the Khaenri’ahn’s arrival, you began oversleeping without Oizys’s wakeup calls. But with the former gone, you have less reasons to leave your bed.

You still sleep on the right side. You fill the left side with pillows to make the bed feel less empty, but there is no replacement for Oizys’s late-night ramblings. After a few more washes, his scent leaves the mattress.

On Vesta’s birthday, you leave the forest and return to your old territory. Their temple is still standing, but the fire has been extinguished.

At first, you think the empty hearth is a hallucination. You can still vividly recall the moment Vesta’s mangled body burst into fire. Even in death, their soul sought to provide warmth for their followers through everlasting flames.

Even in death, they provided more than what you could ever give.

The statues haven’t fared any better. Your friends’ icons have all crumbled into shards and dust. You don’t care to look for your own scattered fragments.

You visit Sal Terrae next. After greeting Havria’s remains, you run into Morax and exchange a few words with him. You leave immediately afterwards—he is busy overseeing Liyue’s recovery from the Cataclysm, and his nation only reminds you of your once-thriving territories.

That visit is what convinces you to rest. Back home, you clean the entire cemetery; the task takes an entire day without Oizys’s help. You go to bed and only wake up months later for your religious festival.

The forest is the same. Oizys’s grave remains barren.

You greet your followers’ graves. The temple is cleaned and decorated with your old tapestries. As you pick a bouquet of achlys flowers for yourself, the Khaenri’ahn comes to mind.

Is he doing well?

What a stupid question. The fact that he hasn’t returned is a good answer.

You bake a small cake this time, just enough for one person and topped with a ring of candles.

The fire is much dimmer than Vesta’s. What else is different? Your followers would return your greetings. Havria would visit to join the celebration. Pasithea would sing your hymns. Oizys would gift you another blessing of happiness.

You blow out the candles. Smoke curls into the air and mixes with the mist.

“Happy birthday, █████.”

*✧･

You sleep for longer intervals, dedicating a few wakeful days to your friends’ birthdays and the cemetery’s maintenance. The Khaenri’ahn doesn’t return.

Years after his departure, another human wanders into the forest. Her presence awakens you early, and you bring her to your temple upon sensing her wounded state.

Her injuries are severe, and you get blood all over your robes while stitching her wounds. After a brief introduction, she explains her situation.

“Your coworkers did this to you?”

“Yes,” says Alyona. “I tried to leave our organization and was branded a traitor.”

You look at the broken mask in her hands. “Where are you from, dear?”

Her eyes are glossy with tears. “Snezhnaya. Have you heard of the Fatui, miss?”

“I haven’t.”

“That makes sense; it is the new political department of my nation. They aspire to fulfill our Archon’s vision of a perfect world, but the things I’ve seen…”

She stares at her bandaged legs. You pat her back.

“It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

Her expression turns fearful. “No, even if I—the director of the Fatui personally recruited me! He knows who I am. Once he hears about this, he won’t let me escape so easily!”

Poor thing. “And who is he, may I ask?”

She visibly shudders. “I know nothing about him but he called himself Pierro, the Jester. His gaze is terrifying; I’ll see those diamond pupils in my nightmares.”

You stare at her. “His pupils were diamond-shaped?”

“Diamonds,” she confirms. “He doesn’t look like a native of Snezhnaya, but that doesn’t matter. He is devoted to the Tsaritsa; he said it himself.”

She continues describing him. Strong build, pale blue irises, silver hair with a dark streak in it, a refined way of speaking.

“Where is she?!”

You startle. Someone—no, two people have entered the forest. One of them mentions Alyona.

“Miss?” She tugs on the hem of your veil. “I should leave. I can’t put you in danger.”

“The same can be said for you, little one.”

Outside the temple, the mist thickens. You sense the reactions of Alyona’s pursuers.

“Katya? Where did you go?!”

“How did I end up back here?”

There, she should be safe now. You smile at Alyona.

“Don’t worry about me; I’ll keep you safe until you recover. Afterwards, you can take refuge in the nearby city. The locals are kind.”

“Thank you so much, Miss ______!” She wipes her tears and looks around the temple. “Who is this temple dedicated to, anyway?”

“A nameless god,” you reply nonchalantly. “She died a long time ago.”

“That’s too bad. She must’ve been a splendid being if her priestess is this kind.”

“Not really. The world has no more use for her.”

iv. oderint dum metuant

In the years following Alyona’s departure, more Fatui defectors wander into your territory.

You help all of them. In your human guise, you treat their wounds and guide them to Miseria. Their pursuers give up after spending hours lost in your mist.

A few have stories about their leader, be it hearsay or personal anecdotes. Their narratives only provide more evidence that he could be the Khaenri’ahn you saved years ago.

Pierro, the Jester.

So it seems that the Cryo Archon took him in. He must be doing extremely well if he now holds authority over Snezhnaya. Could the Fatui’s objective align with his grudge against Celestia? Is that why he swore loyalty to the Tsaritsa?

You don’t visit Snezhnaya for confirmation. If Pierro is truly your old companion, nothing good will come out of your reunion. You are better off as a memory.

*✧･ﾟ

You sleep for an entire year this time.

Your solo celebrations have become unbearable and none of your friends will call you out for skipping their birthdays.

You do wake up for Oizys’s death anniversary. His grave remains a barren bed in the cemetery; not even your achlys flowers could flourish. The eyes of his statue have cracked, so you cover them with thicker clouds of mist.

Hunger eludes you. After greeting Oizys, you go to the kitchen and keep your tableware in the cupboard. It will only erode if you leave it in the dish rack for another year. Or what about two? Ten? A century, even?

No one will wake you up, anyway.

“______?”

You almost drop your plate. Is that an ex-Fatui acquaintance? You already forbade their visits. Before you can reinforce the mist, the person speaks again.

“█████.”

The plate shatters into pieces. You run out of the temple.

They know your real name.

The voice is familiar. And their location…

The edge of the forest has less achlys flowers these days. Someone is standing under a dead tree. Before you can call out to them, they turn in your direction and make eye contact.

Four-pointed stars.

He is the first to speak. “______, you haven’t changed at all.”

Before you know it, you are running towards him. “It’s you!”

The Khaenri’ahn gives you one of his rare smiles. “It appears that you remember me.”

“How could I not?” You stand in front of him, taking in his appearance. “Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

He looks so different. Neat hairstyle, elegant Snezhnayan clothing, a black mask over the right half of his face. Has his posture improved? His demeanor is dignified, imposing even.

You unconsciously fix your robes. “It’s been so long. What happened to you?”

“I have found a new home in Snezhnaya,” he explains, “and devoted myself to Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. I believe you already know of the Fatui.”

“I’ve heard rumors,” you reply carefully. “You are the first Harbinger, correct?”

His expression turns serious. “You are not mistaken. Along with the title of Jester, I took on a new name. You may address me as Pierro.”

Was his gaze always so intense? It feels as though he is sizing you up.

You look away. “Then I can finally put a name to your face. If I may ask, why the Tsaritsa? I don’t know her personally, but the last thing I expected was for you to pledge loyalty to an Archon.”

“Neither did I,” says Pierro. His voice takes a reverent tone. “Her Majesty understands my pain. Through the Fatui, we will rebel against Celestia and create a new world.”

Your mind flits to Alyona and her successors. How many people will be sacrificed for such a lofty goal? And why do you feel so conflicted? Isn’t this what he wanted?

“I see. Your plan sounds outrageous but it must be promising if you are the one in charge,” you reply, smiling. “You’ve come so far. You should be proud of yourself.”

There is a faint glimmer in his eyes. “Your recognition is paramount.”

A heavy silence hangs in the air. What else can you say to him? Should you invite him to your temple? Why is he taking time out of his schedule to visit you anyway?

Pierro looks around the forest. “Have you been doing well?”

“More or less. Never mind me, I’d like to hear more about your new life.” You lean against the dead tree, twirling the hem of your veil. “So, a rebellion against the divine. How does one go about doing that?”

He takes a step closer to you. “Naturally, it will take years of preparation. In the present, I can see to it that our smaller objectives are accomplished.”

“All right, so what will you do now?”

“I shall overthrow the gods of the Old World, starting with you.”

Pierro slams his hand against the tree, cornering you. His other hand seizes your arm, holding it tightly enough to crush the bones.

“Pierro!” You bite back a cry of pain. “I—what are you doing?!”

Any and all traces of familiarity have left his face.

“█████, you have officially been recognized as a threat to the Fatui,” he declares. “Had you taken a neutral stance, we could have sought diplomatic relations. The assistance you have provided for the Tsaritsa’s traitors, however, cannot be overlooked.”

Of course he knows about Alyona and the others.

The mist swirls around you. Just before you can create a diversion, Pierro strengthens his grip on your arm. An unspoken warning.

You can’t keep the fear out of your voice. “I…what will you do with me?”

Overthrow the gods…will he kill you? But wait, your death could end up like Havria’s or Pasithea’s! You should warn him—

“Nevertheless, your punishment has been reduced by the mercy of Her Majesty.”

Don’t relax yet. He is still holding you. “What do you mean by that?”

Pierro puts his hand under your chin, tilting your face upwards. “What you are, truly, is an archaic god who poses little threat to the Fatui. I inferred as much from my time spent with you. For that reason, I personally pleaded your case.”

You can’t look him in the eye. “Then what exactly is my punishment?”

“I promised the Tsaritsa that I would oversee your subjugation by my side.”

“…Excuse me?”

The look on his face is completely serious. “I came here to bring you to Snezhnaya.”

Your arm shakes within his grasp. “And if I refuse?”

Pierro’s gaze pierces through your veil. “I advise you to be tactful in your decision, lest the city of Miseria be implicated.”

The mist rises.

“What do you mean?! Oizys’s people have nothing to do with this!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are they wholly innocent? They have accepted numerous Fatui defectors regardless of their circumstances. We have yet to deliver retribution to the traitors.”

“No!” You shake your head, tears filling your eyes. “Please don’t—I’ll do anything!”

Your knees hit the ground. You bow your head, allowing the mist to disperse.

“I’ll listen to you! Just don’t hurt them, I beg of you!”

This whole time, you have endangered Oizys’s followers.

Pierro’s voice cuts through the fog clouding your thoughts.

“You astound me, ______. Your compassion knows no bounds, even for those who do not worship you. I now understand why your friend had deemed you soft-hearted.”

You remain in your servile position, staring at the ground. Pierro’s hand returns to your face, gripping it roughly under your veil. His thumb strokes your cheek and catches a stray tear.

How pathetic you must look in his eyes.

It is his next words, spoken in a soft tone, which make you shudder.

“That means you are a worthy soul for the New World.”

*✧･ﾟ

You give up your territory shortly thereafter.

Pierro doesn’t let you return to your temple for any belongings. He simply guides you to the waiting carriage, keeping his hand on your back. The only thing more humiliating than your earlier display of submission are the chains cuffed to your wrists.

You take down the mist before you leave. Without its veil, the forest looks small and unremarkable. Whatever the Fatui does with it, you hope the cemetery will be preserved.

The trip to Snezhnaya is quiet. You say nothing to Pierro when he gives you a coat for the cold climate, neither when he escorts you to Zapolyarny Palace, not even during your introduction to the Tsaritsa.

You understand why he would serve her. The Cryo Archon is a sacrosanct figure and her mere presence makes you shiver. While she regards you with a cold gaze and some curious words, she clearly doesn’t perceive you as an equal.

Neither do you miss Pierro’s reverent attitude towards her. When the Tsaritsa demands your utmost loyalty, it is his gaze which scares you into bowing before her.

Never mind your pride, you are dealing with the god who made his goal possible.

After the tense meeting, you return to the carriage. Snezhnaya is a far cry from your old territory, but the people seem capable of enduring the harsh environment. They have no trouble finding their way in the snow.

Your final destination is Pierro’s estate. You give him a confused look when he identifies the grand manor, but he leads you inside.

The foyer is lined with masked servants. They silently greet Pierro; some curiously glance in your direction. Before anyone can ask, Pierro’s hand moves to your shoulder.

“This is ______,” he announces. “Henceforth, she is the lady of the estate.”

What?

The gasps that echo across the foyer aren’t yours. You can only stare at Pierro, your chains clinking with how quickly you turned to face him.

The serious look on his face is what silences everyone.

Pierro continues speaking but your mind is too foggy to process his words. His hand is still on your shoulder, a visible confirmation of his earlier statement. The unanimous “Yes, Lord Harbinger!” is what draws you back into reality.

The servants disperse. Only two women remain.

Pierro lets go of your shoulder. “I expect Lady ______ to be ready by dinnertime.”

They bow. “Yes, Lord Harbinger!”

He lightly pushes you in their direction. You hesitantly follow them, feeling his gaze on your back until you disappear up the stairs. The handmaidens lead you to a lavish bedroom.

Your own chambers. How considerate.

The shorter handmaiden takes out a key and unlocks your chains. They work quickly, cleaning you in the en suite bathroom then dressing you up. The wardrobe is fully stocked with elegant dresses, all in Snezhnayan fashion. The blue diamond jewelry looks familiar.

You don’t protest as they alter an ornate gown and help you into it. Neither do you cast a glance at your old robes discarded on the floor. They let you keep your veil, at least.

*✧･ﾟ

Pierro is already seated at the dining table when you enter.

“Your new attire befits you,” is all he says.

The handmaidens close the door behind you. You walk over to the empty chair.

Fancy tableware, gourmet food, a banquet table with more distance between the chairs.

“Thank you,” you reply bitterly, sitting down. “Is that all you have to say? Because I have so many questions for you.”

His gaze is still trained on you. “You may speak.”

“All right, where do I start?” You lift your veil, exposing your face. “I didn’t expect this kind of prison. And what did you call me earlier? I’ve had my fair share of admirers, but none were so brazen as to pursue a god.”

Your jewelry twinkles under the bright light. It matches Pierro’s diamond accessories.

His face betrays no emotion. “Make no mistake, your previous act of kindness had no bearing on my decision to save your life. You may find it to your benefit to respect your savior.”

What a charming word. “Of course, I’d hate to be a nuisance.”

You sample your soup. It tastes like borscht.

Pierro just watches you. The tension in the room is thick, so unlike your previous meals together. You aren’t in the mood for any idle conversation.

“Why am I here, Pierro?” You put down your spoon and sit back in your chair. “I can’t imagine why a prisoner of the Fatui should have such luxurious accommodations or a status like the Jester’s…partner.”

“And what were your expectations?” he asks.

“To be kept in a cell. To have my powers utilized for your organization. To be, I don’t know, treated like a pawn.”

His gaze remains unfathomable. “Was I not clear with my intentions? You are meant for the New World, so I intend to keep you safe until our objective is achieved.”

“And it just so happens that only you can fulfill the role of my warden.” You rest your head on your palm, eyes wide. “You have truly surprised me.”

What use could the New World possibly have for you?

Another uncomfortable silence. Both servings of soup are left untouched.

It is Pierro who speaks again.

“You will not be without basic needs or comfort, so long as you listen to me. Regarding your current lodgings, I will confess that it is a reciprocation of your kindness. But that is all there is to it—never forget that you would be dead if not for me.”

The diamonds in his eyes shine bright with resolution.

“Rest assured, the Fatui will not make a pawn out of you,” he continues. “From this day forth, you are liberated from your divine burden.”

You belatedly realize just how far you have fallen. Stripped of your divine attire, trapped in a foreign nation, left to the mercy of a powerful human.

Likewise, any act of defiance would only make the Tsaritsa doubt her trust in him.

“I see. Thank you, I think I have a clearer idea of my situation.”

Your appetite is nonexistent, but you force yourself to eat. The sound of metal scraping against porcelain comes only from your side of the table.

“Is the food to your satisfaction?”

You stare at your bowl. “The borscht is too sweet.”

“I will tell the chef to rectify their mistake.” After a short pause, Pierro adds, “Are you still fond of cooking?”

“Not really. I lost my passion for it a long time ago.”

“That is a shame,” he says. “You were quite adept with the knife.”

v. nitimur in vetitum semper, cupimusque negata

Pierro wasn’t lying about the reality of your prison. It takes a while to adjust to your new routine, however.

Each morning, your handmaidens wake you up early for breakfast. Your meals with Pierro remain tense; he initiates most of the conversations.

After breakfast, he leaves for Zapolyarny Palace while you remain in the manor. You have no one to interact with, given the servants’ fearful dispositions, but he is gracious enough to give you a new pastime.

“You expect me to study?”

Your desk is stacked high with books. Judging by the titles, most of them pertain to the history and culture of Snezhnaya.

Pierro takes another book off the shelf. “Did you expect a life of nothing but luxury? You have lived an idle life for the previous centuries, ______, but your archaic knowledge will prove irrelevant for the New World.”

And to think you had originally been in awe of his private library. You slump in your chair, frowning at the written worksheets.

“You are absolutely cruel.”

He gives you a stern look. “Do not think you can feign studying. Your handmaidens will supervise you to ensure your proper education.”

You glance at the two women standing by the door. What must be going through their heads right now? Did their job description prepare them for sights like this?

“And do you expect me to study all day?” you ask.

“Once you finish your studies, you may do whatever you like so long as you do not leave the estate. You need only read the introductions today.”

Honestly, he should’ve just left you to rot in a prison cell.

Pierro’s hand rests on your shoulder. “Your mental enrichment will be instrumental to your adjustment.”

He leaves the library.

Shaking your head, you open the first book. The history of Snezhnayan technology turns out to be an interesting topic, and you quickly move on to the corresponding worksheet. Aside from an enumeration quiz, there is a section for subjective questions. You mull over your answers and explain your stance.

An opportunity for psychoanalysis, perhaps. At least the political propaganda is tolerable.

Most of your free time is dedicated to naps. The manor is too warm for the natural formation of ordinary mist, while the outdoor mist is quick to freeze. The only personalized item in your bedchambers is an embroidery kit.

So he remembered another hobby of yours.

You think of Pierro’s finely-tailored suits. The style is a world away from his old Khaenri’ahn attire. Has he disposed of his old garments?

Pierro usually returns from work in time for dinner. After another tense meal, he retires to his private office. Unless he invites you over for conversation or chess games, you return to the solitude of your bedchambers.

You sleep in the middle of the bed.

*✧･ﾟ

After a few months, Pierro allows you to leave the manor for the first time.

Zapolyarny Palace is as chilly as you remember. You don’t know why he brought you with him to begin with—he just banishes you to the sofa with your books and embroidery.

…He looks hard at work. Every time you peek at him, he is writing reports at his desk or speaking with a subordinate.

Thankfully, you don’t have to greet the Tsaritsa. You do pass by the Doctor’s laboratory on the way out, only to be startled by a chorus of crazed screams and hypnotic singing.

You stop in your tracks but Pierro quickly leads you away from Dottore’s wing.

Your next destination is a town square. The visit is more of a formal tour than a leisurely stroll, and the bustling activity ceases upon Pierro’s arrival. Still, you obediently walk by his side.

“Is that the Jester?!”

“Who is his companion?”

“Their veil suits the Fatui’s masks, doesn’t it?”

“Her expression looks quite solemn.”

He doesn’t pay the whispers any attention, so you do the same. The Snezhnayan crowd isn’t here for you.

A few people catch your eye. You pause and wave at them, offering a friendly smile.

Pierro’s hand presses down on your back.

The smile leaves your face. You don’t need to turn around to know that he is glaring at you—or is it the people you’d waved at? They look frozen with fear.

“Sorry,” you mutter, looking ahead.

The both of you continue walking.

*✧･ﾟ

Pierro leaves for a mission in Mondstadt. You remain in the estate.

Without him, the days are monotonous but easygoing. You eat your meals in peace and accomplish your studies. In your second week, you make an unlikely friend.

“My lady?”

You look up from your embroidery hoop. “Yes?”

The shorter handmaiden points at the half-finished design. “What flower is this?”

Where is her coworker? This is the first time a servant has approached you on their own volition.

“Pasithea,” you reply, tracing the blue and violet threads. “It’s…a special flower which grows in only two areas of Teyvat.”

“It must be beautiful.” She glances at your finished pieces. “Your needlework is exquisite, my lady. Are you preferential to any designs?”

“Not really. Would you like to suggest one?”

She smiles. “What about a snowflake?”

Her change in disposition is welcoming. She almost reminds you of your last priestess Charis. She was always quick to suggest designs for her new robes.

“What is your name, dear?”

“Eva,” she replies brightly, “and my coworker is named Anya. Please excuse her absence today; she caught a cold.”

“Send her my regards.” You smile, straightening your veil. “And thank you for your earlier compliment. It’s been a while since someone has praised my craft.”

She tilts her head. “You are quite nice, my lady. No offense but given your introduction, none of us know what to think of you.”

“None taken,” you laugh. “Honestly, I was just as surprised as all of you.”

How long until Pierro returns? Didn’t he say two months at minimum?

“I’m suddenly craving Brightcrown tea. Could you please prepare some for me?”

“Oh, sure!” Eva walks over to the door. “I’ll be right back, my lady.”

You might as well take advantage of this opportunity.

The needle pricks your thumb. You wave your hand, allowing the blood to evaporate into mist. It swirls around the room and dissipates into the air.

One room down. It would be more effective if you use your thurible, but you shouldn’t doubt the staff’s perceptiveness. You’ll have to settle for just a little blood and dominion.

If only this territory was meant for their safety, not yours.

“My lady? Your tea will be brought here shortly.”

Eva is back. You hide your thumb, squeezing the wound to extract more mist.

“Thank you, dear. May I have a tour of the estate later?”

vi. amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus 

The remainder of Pierro’s mission is enjoyable. Eva and Anya are wonderful companions, and they introduce you to a few other servants. You chat with them often.

Your mist only claims part of the estate. Several rooms are locked with no gaps under the doors, including Pierro’s personal quarters. You do manage to sneak a few drops of blood through the keyhole of his private office.

The information gained is useless. You can only hear fragments of the servants’ chatter, mainly gossip about you or praise for your captor. They keep talking about the many benefits the Fatui provided for their hometowns, from new technology to public hearths.

At least he has made their lives easier.

You do hear about Pierro’s return ahead of time. The servants are agitated but not so much as you. You remind Eva and Anya to keep your camaraderie a secret.

He finds out, anyway.

“Your handmaidens have been terminated from their position.”

“What?”

You look up immediately. Pierro remains focused on the chessboard.

“I also dismissed two other servants,” he says, moving a pawn. “Starting tomorrow, their replacements will attend to your needs.”

“But why?”

His gaze is sharp. “I was informed that they had overstepped their boundaries. It is unprofessional for a servant to be overly friendly with the lady of the estate, much less request embroidery pieces and assistance in the kitchen.”

“That—I insisted on it!” Your hands shake, chess game forgotten.

Eva, Anya, those young cooks. All jobless because of you.

Your vision turns blurry. “Could you at least transfer them to another building or give them letters of recommendation?”

He sighs. “You are too kind for your own good, ______. What would you have done if those servants sought to take advantage of you?”

“They’re good people,” you insist, blinking back tears.

“Perhaps you are right. To which their own righteousness could have been manipulated for your personal gain.”

You glare at him. “I don’t plan to escape if that’s what you are thinking. I have nowhere to go and Miseria would be in danger.”

“Even so.” Pierro glances at your clenched fists. “Remember where your loyalties lie.”

You glance at your thumb. The wound has long healed, and your mist is currently down. You’d take this opportunity to claim Pierro’s office but he would surely notice.

“So what do you expect me to say? I understand? I’m sorry? Thank you for looking out for my safety?”

He remains unfazed by your anger. “Whatever you’d like to say. Your countenance already reveals much of your sentiments.”

“Well then.” You stand up, adjusting your veil. “What would you like to hear from me?”

There is a new medal on the wall, another personal accomplishment on display.

“Shall I sing you praises?” you ask, bowing. “Show my utmost gratitude?”

Pierro just watches you, a judgemental look on his face.

How did your last followers act in their throes of madness? It was sickening to witness.

You kneel on the floor, hands clasped together. “O, Lord Pierro, I humbly thank you for saving an undeserving creature such as myself! Had it not been for your benevolence, I would have been doomed to a life of sorrow. Your greatness is unparalleled. You have brought glory to Snezhnaya. The Tsaritsa—”

“That is enough.”

The anger in his tone is undeniable. You almost flinch from his glare.

“Cease these foolish theatrics at once,” he snarls. “It would do you well to remember that Her Majesty’s name shall not be disrespected.”

“My apologies.” Despite the shiver running down your spine, you bat your eyelashes innocently. “Shall I exclude her name and continue?”

His eyes flash. “Even a court jester has more wit about them. Sit back down.”

“Gladly.” You return to your chair, wiping the dust off your skirt. A smug smile crosses your face as you analyze the chessboard.

Your king is in a tight spot. Pierro meets your gaze, challenging you.

“Draw?” he asks.

You shake your head and make your next move.

*✧･ﾟ

Pierro wins the chess game. Nonetheless, you are quite satisfied with the results.

Your new handmaidens are more formal with you. For their sake, you avoid any sort of unnecessary interaction with them. The estate is rife with gossip following the dismissal of the old servants, and you disperse the mist. You don’t want to think about them.

With no one to appreciate your embroidery, you take to roaming the estate in your free time. The manor is extravagant for two residents and most of the rooms are vacant. During one stroll, you find a half-open door near Pierro’s bedchambers.

Isn’t this room usually locked?

“My lady, where are you going? We’re forbidden—”

You smile at your handmaiden. “Did the Jester permit you to restrain me, Esfir? If he finds out about this, I’ll gladly vouch for your innocence.”

She turns to her coworker, exasperated. “Karine, call Alec. That careless idiot…”

You go inside.

The room is dark. Opening the curtains, you find what looks like several furniture pieces covered in sheets. The locked bookcase holds ancient books and scrolls.

You uncover one item and promptly lock the door.

“My lady!” Esfir bangs on the door. “What are you doing?”

You return to the unveiled statue, hands trembling. The figure’s translucent veil and swaying thurible are flawlessly sculpted. The marble is cracked but polished to perfection.

Isn’t this your statue from Vesta’s temple?

You uncover the other items. To your horror, all of them comprise your old religious art. Broken statues, deteriorated paintings, ceremonial relics. So many images of you.

Calm down, it could be worse. The items are hidden in this room, not displayed for worship. Pierro probably stole these to erase your remaining influence. But why didn’t he just destroy them? Why is the artwork well-preserved? Why are there so many?

You can’t stand looking at those faces. They are too serene, too divine, too deceptive.

You cover the items and leave the room. Esfir and Karine surround you, along with a terrified-looking servant.

“My lady, did you—!”

You close the door behind you. “Alec, dear? Do you normally clean these items?”

He tenses. “I only dust the covers and the room. Lord Pierro forbade me from unveiling the items, lest I be…laid off like my predecessor.”

“I see.” You smile at him through your veil. “Lock the door properly next time, okay? If you aren’t careful, these items could be destroyed beyond repair one day.”

Pierro makes no mention of his secret collection later that evening, but you notice more locks installed on the doors. Despite your best efforts, Alec is fired.

*✧･ﾟ

Oizys’s birthday rolls around.

You sit by the window overlooking the garden. The estate grounds are a paradise of white snow and Snezhnayan flora. There are no berry bushes in sight.

At this hour, his festival in Miseria must’ve begun. You should be preparing for his private party right now. He always came home early for your berry shortcake.

The curtain is pulled over the window.

“How long do you plan to stare outside?”

Great, he’s here.

“Good morning.” You make no move to leave the armchair. “Why are you here?”

The door to your bedchambers is open. Esfir and Karine are gone.

Pierro rests his hand on the back of the chair. “Breakfast should have begun ages ago. Your handmaidens claim that you refuse to cooperate.”

They must be terrified right now. “I’m sorry, they tried their best. I’ll go now.”

“Are you thinking of the Child of Night?”

“...How do you know?”

He evades your question. “Your sorrow has not diminished in the slightest. Grieving his loss will not bring your friend back to life.”

You grip the armrest. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

“I can imagine what other thoughts are plaguing your mind,” he replies. He turns to face you, gaze somber. “However you may spin his tale, what remains certain is that you were faultless in his death.”

He’s wrong. “I know.”

Your doubt must be obvious because Pierro wraps his hand around your arm.

“What killed the Child of Night was his own foolishness,” he insists. “You may call yourself weak, unkind, cowardly even, but it was your conviction that spared you from his fate.”

Is he trying to make you feel better or worse?

“Will you please stop it?” you whisper. “I don’t want your pity right now.”

His grip on your arm tightens. “You misjudge my sentiments.”

“Really now?” You raise your head, glaring at him. “Because you have been doing a fine job at courting me, assuming that I have not misinterpreted my new title.”

Someone like you has no place by his side.

“It would be easier if you just hated me,” you mutter, blinking back tears. “At least then I would have a proper punishment.”

An audible sigh. “Such cynicism is rather unbecoming of your kindness.”

He lifts your veil.

Your eyes widen. “What are you—”

“Silence.”

The air feels cold against your face. The hand on your arm moves to your chin, tilting your face upwards. Pierro leans closer and you can only stare back at him, frozen in place.

Nothing about his gaze is condescending.

His lips press against yours.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Mist rises from the corners of the room and you hastily disperse it. Before you can fully process the soft sensation, he pulls away.

“Y-You…” The words won’t leave your mouth. “How dare…!”

“Are my intentions clearer?” Pierro gently brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping away your tears.

You can’t answer. Your heart is racing and it takes everything to hide the mist from him. You squeeze your eyes shut, gripping the armrest with all of your strength.

Just as abruptly as he kissed you, Pierro lets go of you and lowers your veil.

“I must leave for work,” he says. His voice resumes its authoritative tone. “I will tell the chef to cook a warm breakfast for you later.”

With that, he leaves the room. The door closes behind him.

How dare he.

Mist swirls around the bedchambers. You wipe your mouth and cover your face, bunching up your veil in your hands. The warmth in your cheeks is internal.

…Despite your mortification, the fluttery feeling in your chest is not unwelcome.

vii. dulce est desipere in loco

Pierro doesn’t acknowledge his kiss later that evening.

In the subsequent days, he works longer hours. The two of you eat separate meals. Your conversations and chess games are halted. The servants’ gossip provides no insight into his change in behavior.

What is he up to?

You answer another worksheet, taking note of the date written on the top corner. Has it been this long since your capture? Since moving to Snezhnaya, the days have felt longer and more memorable.

“______.”

“Oh, why are you here?”

This is the first time he has visited you during your study sessions. Judging by the clock, he must have finished work early.

Pierro picks up one of your finished worksheets. “What an interesting opinion.”

You tilt your head. “You think so? I just wrote what was on my mind.”

In all honesty, the subjective portion is quite engaging. Occasionally, the questions are direct responses to your answers from previous tests, as though your tutor—Pierro himself?—is indirectly challenging you.

He turns to Esfir and Karine. “Lady ______ and I will eat an early dinner. You may tidy up the library and retire to the servants’ quarters.”

“Yes, Lord Harbinger!”

You hesitantly stand up. “What is the occasion?”

He places his hand on the small of your back. “Why don’t you find out?”

The hallway is quiet. You match Pierro’s pace, casting a few glances at him. He stares ahead with a neutral expression, intentions hidden. What is so important about this dinner that he must personally escort you?

He opens the double doors.

Achlys flowers.

Every vase in the room is filled with white flower spikes and large trifoliate leaves. Tapestries hang from the walls, restored to their vibrant colors.

“I…” You clap a hand over your mouth. “What is…?”

Pierro silently takes hold of your wrist and leads you inside.

Your chairs are positioned side-by-side this time. The table is set with familiar food—your favorites, all cooked and presented in your usual style. A large bouquet of achlys flowers rests on one placemat.

You lift your veil. “My eyes aren’t deceiving me, right? How did you find out?”

He pulls out the chair for you. “Why not take your place at the banquet?”

Words fail you. You sit down and pick up the bouquet. The achlys flowers are perfectly fresh, tied with ribbons in your religious color.

In the center of the table is a large cake topped with glowing candles.

“It pleases me to see that my research was fruitful.” Pierro takes his seat and faces you, a familiar smile on his face. “Happy birthday, ______.”

That is the last straw. You burst into tears.

You can’t stop crying. Tears roll down your cheeks, drip onto your skirt, soak into Pierro’s suit when he hugs you. He feels warm.

“I suggest that you cease your crying,” he murmurs. “The food will go cold.”

“Quiet,” you sniffle. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. Making sure that this is real. “You can’t just surprise me like this and expect me to react calmly!”

It takes a few more minutes for the tears to stop. You reluctantly let go of Pierro, closing your eyes when his fingertips brush against your damp cheeks.

To think that he of all people would be the one to make you this happy.

The birthday candles are still lit. The flames dance in the air, brighter than any fire you’ve seen before. You blow out the candles and the flames extinguish into thin curls of smoke.

“It’s been so long since I last enjoyed my birthday,” you mutter. You slump in your chair, watching the last traces of smoke disappear. “I almost forgot just how old I am.”

What kind of life have you been living up to now?

Pierro cuts the cake and gives you a slice. The flavor is bittersweet yet familiar. It brings to mind a memory of you chastising him in your kitchen for messing up the same recipe.

You put down your spoon, feeling more tears spring to your eyes. “This is all too much for one person, you know.”

He side-eyes you. “I believe that such splendor is to be expected for a god’s festival.”

“Oh, please.” You shake your head, smiling. “You deserve a grander celebration for your own birthday. If there is one thing you humans have over us gods, it is your ability to accomplish so much within your short lifespans. Compared to you…I never did enough.”

“I care not for such festivities,” he replies, holding your hand, “and I must say that you are gravely mistaken regarding your own personal significance.”

There is something so tender about his words. His other hand cups the side of your face, beckoning you to meet his gaze. Those four-pointed stars seem to peer into your soul, shining brighter than any celestial being in the sky.

“If there is one good thing which came out of your life, it was saving mine.”

Your heart twists in your chest. Try as you might, you can’t look away.

“I…I see.” Your hand shakes within his grasp. You want nothing more than to pull your veil over your face.

He knows just the right words to win people over.

This time, it’s you who prolongs the chaste kiss he gives you. It’s you who intertwines your fingers together. It’s you who whimpers when he pulls away. To your frustration, he remains mostly unfazed but the look in his eyes doesn’t lie.

How long has it been since you last enjoyed physical intimacy? What about him?

Oh well, you could play the fool for one night.

“Well, Pierro, this has been an impressive festival,” you tell him, smirking. “But where is my offering? Did you think a paltry kiss would suffice?”

“Oh?” He holds your gaze, eyes darkened. “According to the ancient records, only the divine friends of the God of Mist were expected to provide gifts. I presumed myself to be an exception to this tradition.”

“You disappoint me. But don’t worry, you can make up for it right now.”

The corners of his mouth tilt upwards. “And what exactly do you desire from me?”

You lay a hand on his chest. The pale blue diamonds of his necktie twinkle under the light, dimmer than his eyes.

“I believe you know exactly what I want,” you reply. Wispy gray marks travel up your limbs and around your eyes. “Are you up for the challenge?”

You aren’t even given a few seconds before Pierro clutches your waist and pulls you into another kiss, stealing your breath. His other hand cups the back of your head and pulls off your veil.

“Very well,” he says. “I might as well oblige you.”

*✧･ﾟ

You are never underestimating humans ever again.

The room is dark. If you close your eyes, you can imagine yourself within a void. The Abyss, maybe. Any lovely dark place where your debauchery could go unacknowledged.

Offering? You were referring to your own birthday gift, right? So why did you end up feeling like one for your captor?

Pierro lightly shakes you. “______, have you fallen asleep?”

“No, I haven’t,” you reply quickly. You turn your head in his direction, chest heaving. “I’m just exhausted.”

The complacent gleam in his eyes is absolutely maddening. Even with his mask off, his face is both familiar and different. The way he looks at you is earnest yet far from reverent.

Is this the same person you saved all those years ago? How can the voice which once weakly cried for help whisper such degrading things in your ear?

You raise your arm to inspect your wrist. Dark bruises mix with the wispy marks, from when he pinned you to the bed. Combined with the warm ache in your abdomen and knees…

You feel utterly desecrated.

Pierro holds you tightly, turning your body to face him. Loose strands of silver hair fall over his face. Familiar scars litter his bare skin, including those you’d healed.

“We missed dinner,” he murmurs. “Would you like to eat something later? It would be a waste of the banquet preparations.”

His gaze makes you shrink. Where in the world is your veil?

You sit up. “No, I’m fine. We can eat it tomorrow.”

Somehow, the thought of your party leftovers doesn’t feel unappetizing at all.

Pierro’s mask and your veil are on the night-table, along with your diamond jewelry. Your dress should be somewhere on the floor.

He grips your arm. “Where are you going?”

You sheepishly face him, wincing at the light pressure. “Going to my room. To sleep.”

He sighs, pulling you closer. “Stay.”

“...All right.”

His bed is soft. You return to his arms and rest your head on the pillow, giving in to your exhaustion. He’s saying something. Something kind, judging by his tone. Your name.

The left side of the bed is comfortable.

viii. flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo

Your relationship has improved since your birthday.

As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve become more resigned to your captivity. It’s so easy to ignore the reality of your situation when you feel so happy.

Pierro has been kinder to you. Beneath his strict exterior, you’ve been seeing more traces of your old companion. The proximity between your chairs remains close and you permanently move to his bedchambers. Your conversations have become more intimate.

“Am I allowed to be this happy?”

“What do you mean?”

Pierro looks up from the chessboard. You move another piece.

“I don’t know,” you mutter. “It’s just…you really don’t want me to do anything for you? You’re just going to keep me around for the New World?”

He moves a black queen this time. “I told you before: Your former status is no longer a concern. There is no need for you to question your place by my side.”

“I know but—” You shake your head and focus on the game. “Never mind.”

Pierro clearly isn’t satisfied with that response. Feeling the weight of his gaze, you adjust your veil. He didn’t suspect anything from your recent Flower Ball embroidery, but your puffy eyes will be an obvious hint to Havria’s birthday.

Your king is cornered again. As you move a pawn, the door slams open.

“Lord Harbinger! There has been an emergency!”

A Fatui officer rushes inside, followed by two frantic maids. Surprised, you slide the pawn to the wrong square and knock over a few chess pieces.

The air grows cold.

“I do not recall permitting an audience with you, Lieutenant Dominik.”

Even you flinch in response. Despite his composure, Pierro’s irritation is evident. The fearful “We tried to stop him!” of the maids affirms that.

Dominik kneels on the floor. “Forgive me, my lord! But this is an urgent matter!”

Pierro turns to the maids. “Escort Lady ______ to our bedchambers.”

“Yes, Lord Harbinger!”

“Pierro.” You turn to him, hesitantly leaving the sofa. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I will see you once this matter is settled,” is all he tells you, staring down your unwelcome visitor. “I expect more competence from an informant of your ranking, Lieutenant.”

Dominik shudders, remaining in their kneeling position. You follow the maids out of his private office and into the hallway. Just as they close the door, you hear their voices.

“The Child of Ni—”

“Silence.”

What?

“My lady?” One of the maids—Sofia, you think—turns to you. “We must go.”

“Of course.” You cast a final glance at the door before you begin walking. “Thank you.”

Were they going to say ‘Night’? They couldn’t possibly be talking about him, could they?

The bedchambers are quiet. The maids leave you inside and close the door. You lie in bed, staring at the empty space next to you. You can trust Pierro…right?

Just in case, you wave your hand and imagine the private office. Soon enough, you hear two voices. Soft, fragmented, but audible.

“...divine karma…many afflicted.”

“...send more troops…Miseria.”

Did Pierro just mention Oizys’s city? Why would he still care about Miseria?

You continue listening.

“Bad…cursed. Misery, misfortune…”

“...remains? Dispirited soldiers…assured victories.”

Misery, misfortune…why are they discussing Oizys’s divine ability? What does it have to do with warfare? And what did they mean about karmic debt?

Your nails dig into the mattress.

“...others? Archon Residue…”

“The Doctor sent a report…early stages.”

“Inform me…public hearths were…exceptional fire.”

“...singing. Hallucinations have…”

The taste of metal invades your mouth but you continue to bite down on your lip.

They could only be talking about Vesta and Pasithea. And what’s this about Archon Residue and the Doctor’s involvement?!

Vesta’s extinguished fire. The strange singing you heard from the Second Harbinger’s laboratory. Their discussion of Oizys’s curse and victory.

…

Has the Fatui been using your friends’ remains this whole time?

Blood trickles down your chin. With a shaky hand, you wipe it clean and turn to the right side of the bed. Would he really do this after everything you told him?

The voices suddenly sound clearer. Have they moved closer to the door?

“Where are you going, my lord?”

“I will summon a maid. The humidity level in the room has suddenly risen.”

Pierro leaves the office.

*✧･ﾟ

“It appears that my suspicions were not unfounded.”

Pierro is straight to the point. You rise from the bed, glaring at his figure in the doorway.

On the blanket, a smear of blood evaporates into mist.

“How long have you known?”

“I’ve had my suspicions,” he replies, glaring. “How much of our conversation did you overhear?”

“Enough to give myself away, clearly,” you reply, gripping the bedpost. “So tell me, what is so urgent about Miseria that Lieutenant Dominik came here without permission?”

They specifically mentioned divine karma. Does this mean that Oizys…?

“There is no use in concealing information from you,” he sighs. “In summary, your former territory and the city of Miseria have been beset with curses in the previous months. We presume it to be the lingering resentment of the Child of Night.”

“And why is that?”

Pierro crosses his arms. “There have been sightings of a demon in your cemetery. It bears a striking resemblance to the religious imagery of your deceased friend.”

“I see,” you reply, gritting your teeth, “and what will you do to him?”

“That is confidential information.”

“Oh, really?” Your voice rises in volume, as does the mist on the blanket. “I think I have every right to know about Oizys and your other secrets. Tell me, what have you done with my friends’ remains?”

There is zero remorse on his face. “If you are pertaining to the Lord of the Hearth and the Goddess of Consciousness, then you can already deduce my answer.”

“How dare you!”

Mist swirls around the room, heavy and thick, but Pierro manages to cross the room towards you. You raise your arm but he catches it quickly.

“I advise you to be rational,” he snaps. “The Child of Night is dead. Whatever is prowling in your former territory is no longer your friend.”

“Don’t touch me!”

Your attempt to raise the mist is dashed as Pierro pins you to the bed. He grips your wrists with enough force to make you panic.

“Is this what you will do with me eventually?” you shout. Hot tears flow down the sides of your face. “Do you intend to make an instrument out of me as well?!”

Stupid. Not even Havria was this trustful.

“You already know how their deaths affected me, that their graves were still important to me! How could you—”

You struggle some more, only to shriek when Pierro strengthens his grip.

“I advise that you remember your place,” he says coldly, removing your veil and setting it aside. “Though your soul is worthy for the New World, even you are not safe from my scorn.”

“I don’t want to hear that right now! I’ve had enough of you and the Tsari—!”

A resounding pop interrupts you, followed by your pained scream. The only thing more excruciating than your sprained wrist is the sensation of Pierro’s fingertips wiping your tears.

“As I said, no harm will come to you so long as you are loyal to Her Majesty,” he tells you. “Your friends have long fallen, and your personal sentiments offer little insight into the importance of preserving their memory.”

“You…” Your voice is reduced to pathetic whimpers. “I…I thought I…”

Those diamond pupils hold your gaze, cold and unforgiving. “That is final.”

You should have left him to die that day.

The mist recedes.

*✧･ﾟ

You return to your old bedchambers.

The doors and windows are locked. Your embroidery kit is confiscated along with the needles. Esfir and Karine visit you with your study material and meals on a tray, but you reject most of them. It takes a while to readjust to your empty bed.

You don’t see much of Pierro in the following days. He spends less time in the estate to evade your supervision, and the servants’ gossip is hushed. You receive no more news on Oizys and your friends’ remains.

Your wrist is treated. The ice pack numbs your pain but it barely helps. You can’t forget the ruthless look on Pierro’s face when he hurt you.

You’ve never felt more angry with yourself.

Why did you let him do all of this to begin with? Out of fear or pity? Because his dreams of the New World trumped your own worthless existence?

You could spite him. Fall asleep for a century…or more? As the Tsaritsa’s underling, he is probably granted immortality. Perhaps you shouldn’t wake up at all.

But Oizys is still out there.

“Karine?”

She puts down the breakfast tray. “Yes, my lady?”

Esfir also turns to you, bandages in hand.

“When is the Jester returning from his mission?” you ask.

They exchange looks. “We are not allowed to share that information.”

“All right. Could you at least give this to him when he returns?” You give Karine a signed envelope, wincing at the pain radiating from your wrist.

“Of course, my lady. We will do so immediately.”

“Thank you for everything,” you whisper, “and I’m sorry.”

A ball of mist hovers under your palm, accompanied by flecks of light.

“My lady, what are you—!”

Your thurible is pristine from years of disuse. You quickly open it and swipe your palm through the built-in blade. Blood spills into the censer.

Dark clouds emanate from your Catalyst, obscuring the room and filtering through the keyhole. Esfir and Karine rush towards you, only to disappear into the mist. You raise the mist in the manor, hearing their screams in the hallway along with their coworkers’.

“Where am I?”

“How did we end up in the kitchen?!”

“I can’t reach the foyer!”

“Inform Lord Pierro at once!”

Their panic is unbearable. You can sense every scream, every frantic movement, every cry for help. But this time, you must resist the urge to help them.

The window is next. It takes a few tries but your thurible finally smashes the glass.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat to the empty bedroom.

The servants will be fine. The mist will disappear in a few days, or perhaps earlier if you are slain first. Then the manor will be free from your dominion. Your signed letter will prove their innocence.

You swing your thurible, smiling. What will the Fatui make out of you, you wonder? A special weapon? A tool to spy on their enemies? Or maybe they will keep you alive to harvest your blood for the rest of eternity.

That doesn’t matter. It is only fair after all that you’ve survived.

ix. memento vivere

Miseria has fallen.

Your brief inspection is devastating. The Fatui has taken control over the city. The historic temple has been replaced with a church for the Tsaritsa. The people are consumed with misery and anxiety, likening their misfortune to a divine curse.

You almost cannot believe it. Oizys’s punishments were never this harsh.

You advance to your old territory before any Fatui officers notice you. After subduing so many pursuers, you already feel the strain from using your powers. Your thurible had to be refilled numerous times.

Your territory is even more unrecognizable. In your absence, the forest has been converted to a facility site. A Snezhnayan-style building stands in the place of your temple. The pasithea flowers have died out.

Surprisingly, the achlys flowers have multiplied. Fields of white flower spikes grow amongst the remaining flora in stark contrast to the unburied corpses.

So many masked humans. Did Oizys kill all of them?

A thick miasma of divine karma permeates the area, growing stronger as you approach the cemetery. Several graves have been excavated, leaving gaping holes in the ground. The two statues are missing.

A dark figure stands over an empty grave, holding a bloody Claymore.

“Oizys?”

He turns around. “█████?!”

The divine karma is so oppressive. You remain in your spot, but Oizys closes the distance and captures you in a tight hug. You nearly collapse from the miasma.

“It’s…is it really you?” you whisper.

A large smile cuts his shadowy face. “Who else?”

He feels so cold.

You pull away, processing the sight before you. This isn’t the body you cleaned and buried all those years ago. It is incorporeal, hazy at the edges, marred with bleeding wounds. Instead of his death suit, he is wearing his bloody robes with ruined embroidery.

You never wanted to see his mutilated corpse ever again.

No, you shouldn’t think that. This is still Oizys.

Pain throbs from your sprained wrist. You look down to find him touching your bandages.

“█████.” He grips your wrist tightly. “What happened to you?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” you reply quickly, slipping out of his grasp. “Listen, you’re in serious danger. I don’t know if there’s a way for you to leave but—”

“Leave?” He stares at you with bloodshot eyes. “I come back and you’re gone, not a trace of mist left. The next thing I know, these masked Snezhnayans take over, destroying your temple and the cemetery! And you expect me to leave after all that?”

The miasma is overwhelming. Unsettled, you take a step back.

He doesn’t notice. “And do you know what I found in my own city? Those ungrateful ants worshiping the Cryo Archon as though I had never existed!”

You shake your head vehemently. “Oizys, don’t take it out on your people. They—”

“Is this how you felt?” he laughs bitterly, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have accepted your followers back then. I should have punished them for you.”

“You can’t say that!” you exclaim. “Think about it clearly; it’s one thing to harm the Fatui but they were all innocent!”

There is a murderous look in his eyes.

“Oh, █████,” he frowns. “Have you learned nothing from how humanity abused your kindness? How they abandoned you and killed our friends?”

He’s wrong. “That…I couldn’t provide for them or fulfill my duty!”

“Those wretched creatures caused our suffering!”

His voice cracks on the last word. Oizys coughs up black smoke and you immediately approach him, only for him to step back.

“Forget it,” he snaps. “It’s useless to convince you.”

“Says the person who joined a war and gained nothing from killing what must’ve been several civilians! At least I’m still alive,” you shoot back.

“Well, I wouldn’t have died if you had joined me.”

What did he just say?

The miasma intensifies. When Oizys raises his head, there is only disdain in his eyes.

“Among our friends, why did it have to be you?” he whispers. “Maybe things would have turned out differently if someone else survived.”

“Oizys.” Tears fill your eyes. “You…you don’t really mean that, do you?”

This isn’t right. This isn’t how it usually goes. It should be you saying that and him assuring you otherwise. If even he believes that, what else can you think?

His gaze flits from your wrist to your neck. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Did those humans hurt you? Why are you wearing a foreign necklace?”

Your necklace? You look down, belatedly realizing that you are still wearing your necklace from Pierro. The pale blue diamonds twinkle in the fading light.

“Wait.” He touches the pendant under your veil. “I’ve seen this style before; it’s not from Snezhnaya. The design, the material…”

“Hey, not too close.” You try to step away but he keeps a firm grip on the chain.

“Is this from Khaenri’ah?”

You can’t look him in the eye. “I—”

“It would benefit you to lay your hands off what is mine.”

You are doomed.

Pierro enters the cemetery, wielding a sword. Despite his serious expression, his gaze is absolutely livid.

Oizys merely scoffs. “Another masked offender. How many of you—”

He stops talking, gripping your necklace tighter. His eyes fix on Pierro’s diamond accessories then his pupils.

“█████.” Any remaining warmth for you has been dashed. “Is he from that nation?”

You can’t answer him. Neither can you meet Pierro’s cold glare.

It’s too late. Oizys leaves your side and appears in front of him, swinging his Claymore, but Pierro dodges it in time. The miasma thickens.

“You wretched human!” he shouts, attempting another swipe. “How dare you!”

A dark blue galaxy-like aura appears in Pierro’s hand, shooting at Oizys’s neck. He gasps, clawing at his throat, but the Khaenri’ahn magic restrains him.

You grip your thurible. “Stop, you’ll—!”

Pierro’s glare is absolutely chilling. “I have finally been granted an audience with you, Child of Night. On behalf of my fallen compatriots, I return your blow.”

“I should have wiped out your despicable race until my dying breath!”

Oizys sets himself free and hits Pierro’s sword this time. The latter stumbles, only to quickly recover and fight back.

You rush towards them, swinging your thurible to spread the mist. Even if you can’t do much, you should at least distract Pierro and give your friend a chance to escape.

“Oizys, don’t underestimate—!”

The blade that cuts you isn’t Pierro’s.

Your back hits a gravestone, but what shocks you is the pain radiating from your cheek. Through the tear in your veil, you make out a disgusted expression.

Oizys looks away. “Just disappear already, █████.”

Why would he say such terrible things to you?

Pierro turns to you, eyes widening. Suddenly, he goes on the offense and successfully strikes Oizys in the leg. Whatever magic he had used earlier is imbued within his sword.

Oizys steps back, crashing into a patch of achlys flowers. He swings his Claymore again, slicing several flowers in the process. “Die already!”

You touch your cheek. Blood drips from the wound and onto the ground. Oizys didn’t hesitate to hurt you, not that he needed to in the first place—you were nowhere close to Pierro. The beheaded achlys flowers litter the ground, quickly trampled.

That thing is no longer Oizys.

What should you do now? The mist engulfs the entire cemetery. You can sense the entire battle. Oizys keeps flinging insults at Pierro, talking about how he will properly punish humanity this time. The latter doesn’t say much.

“You are gravely mistaken. I am not allowing her to escape from me.”

Oizys’s blade grazes his shoulder.

Pierro…did he just stumble?! Oizys laughs and hits him again.

The mist rises. You sense a shocked gasp as the ghost steps forward and gets transported to the other side of the cemetery.

“█████? Did you—”

The mist parts between you and Oizys. There is more blood on his clothes—Pierro’s, not his own. He stares at you, dumbstruck.

“Has your mind been utterly broken?!”

He runs towards you, only to disappear into a cloud of mist. You dodge his attacks, careful to keep Pierro at a distance. You take a few more steps and allow Oizys to find you.

He lunges at you, only to be splattered with a spray of blood.

Right in the eyes.

Mist rises from his eyes and wraps around his face.

He figures it out quickly. “█████! How could you do this to me?!”

His screams are too much to bear. You ignore both his frantic thoughts and the renewed pain in your arm.

Oizys begins stumbling in circles. The mist claims him, covering his eyes and obscuring his vision. This isn’t enough. It will take—

A blade cuts through his heart.

Pierro? When did he find you?

With a final cry, Oizys collapses to the ground. The miasma clears. His body turns more hazy and he ceases to think. When you approach his corpse and release your claim, his eyes are cloudy.

He’s gone.

A pained groan snaps you out of your thoughts. Pierro keels over, clutching his shoulder.

“Pierro!” Quickly, you help him sit down. “Where does it hurt? Do you feel faint?!”

Your voice can’t keep up with your thoughts. You grip his arms and inspect the wounds, horrified when you hear another hiss of pain. His mask lays on the ground, half-broken. There’s so much blood. You can’t lose—

“Compose yourself.”

He grabs your arm. The diamonds in his eyes are so clear, so bright.

“I…” You try to pull away. “Are you really all right?”

His grip is so tight, unwilling to let go. His fingertips press down on your sprained wrist, triggering another wave of pain. His glare remains terrifying.

“You will have to do more to escape from me,” he snaps.

The mist clears.

You raise your other arm. Pierro catches it in time, only for you to stomp on his foot.

He hisses in pain. “You—”

“You idiot!”

Hot tears roll down your cheeks, stinging your wounds. You try to stand up, only to collapse as dizziness overtakes you.

“______!” Pierro catches you in time, anger giving way to concern.

You glare at him. “What in the world were you thinking? Do you have no sense of self-preservation at all?!”

He examines your wounds. “That is a hypocritical statement coming from you.”

“I don’t care! It’s your fault that this all happened to begin with!”

You’ve never felt more relieved in your entire life.

You throw your arms around him and continue sobbing.

“I don’t even know the death rites for a Khaenri’ahn!” you sniffle. “How do you expect me to properly bury you?!”

Pierro lifts your veil and wipes your tears.

“You can cease your hysterics,” he says softly. “I am not letting you go anywhere.”

Behind you, Oizys’s ghost dissipates into the mist.

*✧･ﾟ

The ride home is anything but pleasant.

“The chains are still uncomfortable.”

“That is a necessary precaution.” Pierro adjusts the cuffs and gives you a stern look. “Once we return home, you will release your claim on the estate. There will be no more eavesdropping.”

At least his touch is gentle. His hand trails up your arm, from your sprained wrist to the bandaged wounds. The field doctors had been efficient.

“You will also be confined under strict surveillance,” he adds. He meets your gaze, trapping your reflection in his diamond pupils. “In our bedchambers. I will keep a proper eye on you this time.”

You sigh and lean back in your carriage seat. “You are absolutely cruel. In case you haven’t realized, I could have killed you anytime and still chose not to. And even if I wanted to do that right now, I’m too weak.”

You can’t tell if your lethargy is from blood loss or karmic debt, probably both. Despite his own wounds, Pierro seems to be in exponentially better condition.

“The creature we slew was not the true Child of Night.”

“Huh?” You look up, facing the seat across from you.

Pierro’s gaze is sympathetic. “It was nothing more than the lingering resentment of your deceased friend, so whatever claims he made were untrue.”

“I know,” you reply sheepishly.

Oizys is truly gone. No more warm smiles, blessings of happiness, or lively meals together. May his soul finally find peace.

“Here, take this.”

Mist fills the carriage. Pierro sits up in alarm, only for you to toss your thurible at him.

He catches it, surprise painting his features. “Might there be a reason why you are voluntarily surrendering your Catalyst?”

“Must I articulate my answer?” You cross your arms, leveling him with a tired look. “Take it. Add it to your creepy collection, use my blood as you see fit, I don’t care. So long as I no longer need to hold that terrible thing.”

He stares back at you for a few seconds before setting your thurible aside. “The Fatui has no use for this weapon.”

You think you can believe him this time.

You take off your veil. The fabric is torn beyond repair; you will need to sew a new one. Maybe you can ask Pierro for embroidery ideas.

Outside the window, the scenery switches to a swirling snowscape. A few Snezhnayans are walking against the blizzard.

No need to worry about them; they can persevere. If not, they should still be safe under Pierro’s leadership.

You leave your seat and walk over to Pierro’s. Pain shoots up your leg and you nearly fall, but he quickly catches you and moves you to his side.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” he mutters, but his tone is less harsh. His arm wraps around you, pulling you close.

“Hey, Pierro? Are you staying home tomorrow?”

“Why do you ask?”

You rest your head on his uninjured shoulder. “I just feel like cooking, is all. Do you have any requests?”

A short pause. When Pierro turns to you, there is a soft gleam in those four-pointed stars. A small smile cuts across his face.

“Your cream stew was my favorite.”

You smile back. “That is good to hear.”

What else? You will need to prepare the ingredients, pick the right tableware, maybe even ask Pierro if he’d like to assist you again. And so many other things.

The sky turns dark. The estate is still miles away and you will be trapped in Pierro’s company for a few more hours…and the rest of eternity for that matter. But for some reason, that fact doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

For the first time in years, you actually look forward to tomorrow.

♡

Author’s Note ๑ Side story from Pierro’s POV

Do not ask me how I ended up creating an ultra-detailed darling and a bunch of Genshin OCs for this fic. I am still processing the fact that I wrote a Pierro fic and that it turned out this way (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

If you actually read this to the end, I hope the experience was worth it!! Thank you to everyone for eagerly anticipating this and giving your lovely feedback on my previous fics. Do tell me if you enjoyed Pierro and Savior! Darling’s story, and Happy New Year~

Tag a Pierro enjoyer!! @kocherry @mirdance @victoria1676 @mnemosyneechan @artiifex @pierroswife @fluffy-koalala @lcveaesop @teabutmakeitazure @nicebonescomrades @ansy-tea

Thank you for your interest in reading!! @yandere-romanticaa​ @ddarker-dreams​ @cinnamonest​ @yanmaresu​

[cloudninetonine]

The Player and the Dollmaker

A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry I haven't been as active for the past few months! Life and just general stuff got into the way, plus I've been feel extra anti-social :') But I'm gonna try and get back into the swing of things!!!

This story is based on my friend @next-hero-in-line's awesome new oc, the Dollmaker and by @batrogers's amazing fanfic based on said oc!! The Dollmaker for anyone who wishes to read it!

Warnings: Bad language (as usual to Player), blood/gore, temporary character death, reversed character death, hinted at a slighter darker Hyrule(?), also probably a lot of spelling mistakes I've been struggling with sleep lately piuhgfpiuf

Hyrule’s timeline was…something.

You were expecting it, truth be told, playing the very first Legend of Zelda game came with not only a huge reality check but the rude residents of the traveller’s Hyrule that had you close to tossing your device from the frustration of their snide remarks and coldness. With the troubles that brewed in the depths of the land, you couldn’t really blame the population- but there was no need to be snarled at for simply asking for directions.

“Mark my fucking words,” You growled, tugging at the material of your hood as you wondered through the village, monologuing to yourself like some crazed villain. “Mark them, goddesses, because trust if one of these nasty arse villagers sasses me again it’ll be between them and you.”

Yeah, you were not happy. Having to deal with the terrible crowds all day, your levels of cranky raised to the max and you were not about to deal with another one of these terrible people- even all the children were damn brats!!!

And to top it all off, it was raining, just perfect.

Huffing, you turned another corner, boots squelching against the mud of the (once) dirt path as you made your way back to the village outskirts, the camp resting deep within the crooked woodland that bordered the homes. You could catch the silhouettes of cloaked figures just by the bushes, speeding up your pace the slightest bit with your face relaxing from your raged scowl to a relieved smile.

Splitting up was not something you were fond of, especially in Hyrule’s land but with his flaming reputation with the locals that only further engulfed that of the Chain’s when they had first been seen in public with him would have been worse than just being seen as a weary traveller looking for some food and shelter. The stories of him being chased out of towns, to having rocks tossed his way and worse- you wanted to slam your fist into the nose of the first (definitely not) innocent bystander.

How could they treat their hero like this? Expendable? Like dirt beneath their boots? God, you hated it.

But, unfortunately, there wasn’t quite much you could do, was there?

You raised your hand, a yell at the tip of your tongue as you got closer to the cloaked heroes only for a sudden body to walk ahead of you, walking out from between the homes and right into your path- your yelp their only indication of their mistake as you bumped right into their side and had them near tumbling to the floor.

You were lucky this adventure had gifted you with faster reflexes.

“I’m sorry!” Your hand quickly grabbed their wrist, tugging them back up to a standing position before they could collapse into the mud. “I’m really sorry- are you okay?”

You caught bright blue eyes before anything else- well, eye, the other covered by her lucious, midnight purple locks- her hood did well to hide her features but that you could make out. Not many in Hyrule had quite striking attributes as she did and your mind rolled the many franchise characters in your mind in a curious search to see if she was familiar-

But no, you didn’t recognise her.

The woman blinked, studying you for the moment but her pretty pink lips stretched into a smile.

One you didn’t like.

“Hello.” She grinned with teeth as she once again looked you up and down. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You wretched your hand back like her skin was hot metal, keeping it protectively against your chest as you went to take a step back. “Pardon?”

“You were looking for health items in town.” She clarified, still smiling and still very disturbing before your eyes. “I have just the thing.”

Please don’t invite me back to your home. Please don’t invite me back to your home. Please don’t invite me back to your home- “Oh? And- uh, what’s that?”

Your heart skipped in relief when she dug into the back hanging from her shoulder, plump with her own items and quite loud as she rummaged through until she made a small sound of victory and then proceeded to produce a…a doll. Her eyes looked over it proudly, her eye sparkling with a glee that made your stomach churn in a nervous rut, watching as her nimble fingers quickly straightened out the little toy’s clothing before handing it over to you- all the while still grinning that same smile she had been for the past few moments (had she even breathed?).

“For you.” Her voice was near giddy but still laced with her eerily calm demeanour. “A good healing item.”

“Uhhh, how much…?"

She giggled, airy and light. “A ‘thank you’ will suffice.”

Common sense had always told you not to take things from strangers, especially creepy ones that emerged from dark alleys with smiles that read trouble, eyes like a predator’s that shone with a lust for violence and blood- but, with a quick glance to your companions still waiting just ahead you felt the need to hurry this exchange so that you could return and be rid of this whole damn day.

So, managing to force a grateful smile, you accepted the item. “Um, thank you.”

You held back a cringe when her smile widened. “You’re welcome.”

Your eyes fell to the doll in your hands and you felt the air harshly exit your lungs, mouth a slight gape as you caught the familiar stitched face staring back at you.

“This-” Your eyes raised to meet…nothing. Nada. Zilch. Body twirling frantically to search for the woman who had once stood before you, face still stricken in slight horror before you let out a breath from your nose. “Typical.”

Gently, your thumb ran over the careful thread of the doll, taking in the very obvious features of yourself: your cape, your tunic with it’s gold accents, your hair and the discolour buttons for eyes, stitching of blue running down its face to its stubby little arms and a smile to top it off. Yes, this was you indeed and you knew exactly what this was.

“One up…?” You muttered, feeling dread settle on your shoulders.

Why would you need a one-up?

Your hands shook, thoughts racing through your mind as you continued to stare down at the small doll with anxiety bubbling in your gut. Was this a warning? Your fate decided? Were- were you close to death? Or did this Dollmaker find of your existence and wish to merely meet you? You weren’t quite sure, uncertain if being left in the dark was better or worse about the future with this item-

A hand came to rest over yours and your eyes flew up, meeting the frightened ones of Hyrule. Eyes of brown clashed green stared back into your own, pupils pin pricked with a similar fear to your own before he let out a breath and pushed the doll to your chest, his voice a soft whisper.

“Put it away.” He gently squeezed over your knuckles. “Don’t think about it- I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Hyrule-”

“It’s okay, I promise you.” He managed to smile at you, not quite reassuring but soft nonetheless. “Nothing will happen.”

You looked at him with apprehension. “...Link, I’m scared.”

His face hardened, eyes shining with a determination that you had seen time and time again. “I will protect you.”

…You couldn’t fight his words, you knew from his tone he would keep him promise no matter what. You knew that look, you knew this man and you trusted him, you could leave your life in his hands and he would keep that promise in his heart until his very last days.

But just because he could keep a promise didn’t mean fate couldn’t take over.

You stuffed the doll into your bag and took his out-stretched hand, letting him lead you back to the cloaked Chain so you could all return to your temporary abode within the woods.

You felt the stare of eyes on your back the entire way.

----------

The past few days had been uneventful, save for the few black blooded and some more cruel Hylians of Hyrule’s homeland, everything had been pretty quiet and tame- yet you could still feel the unnerving tremble in your belly at every waking moment. Glancing around wildly, refusing to step away from the group, you don’t think you had even released Hyrule’s hand for those past few days, too afraid and too cowardly.

Even if the doll was in your possession, even if it brought you back- you would die.

You didn’t want to die out here.

But it seems, like you had expected, fate had decided to take that into its own hands.

It was Legend’s turn to watch for the night, sat in front of the flickering campfire with eyes focused on the surrounding trees and bush. His back was towards you when you woke, blinking away sleep and rubbing at your eyes when you felt the overwhelming need to use the toilet. Well, find a spot behind a tree, after all when was the last time you had seen a proper toilet? You shuddered at the thought.

“Where are you going?” The Veteran grunted, watching as you waddled through the sleeping bodies. 

“Toilet.” Your voice was hoarse with exhaustion, “Don’t worry I’m not gonna converse with the Shadow.”

The man huffed, poking at the fire with a stick. “Whatever.”

That was all you exchanged, carefully manoeuvring through the shrubbery to get a good distance away from the men. Not thinking, your mind still too seeped in sleep, forgetting the doll you had kept in a death grip these past few gruelling days as you hopped and shuffled to get to a sufficient spot to do your business then head back to camp. It didn’t occur to you that this may have been the moment fate needed, nor did you think about it being your last.

Done with your business, you took a few steps back towards the light in the short distance. Far enough that you couldn’t see Legend’s full features but close enough that you were still in sight, the hero had his head down towards the flames, not focused on you at all.

You sighed.

Then-

…You felt a burning.

Your whole body tensed- seized as the pain began to grow from a dull throb to a near rolling inferno, your breath suddenly ripped from your body as you felt the sensation of hot liquid begin to slowly bubble up your throat while you looked downed to the cause of the pain- a crossbow bolt punctured right through you, dirtied with red hot blood that idly drip, drip, dripped from the tip of the arrow right onto the dirt below.

Breathing only resulted in the blood to rise faster, tasting the copper in your mouth as you coughed and sullied your white tunic with maroon and felt your body sway as you felt your body quickly begin to lose it’s balance, your vision blurring with tears.

It must have caught your lung…were you drowning in your own blood?

You reached a hand out towards the camp.

“...Li-nk-”

You fell to your knees, then to your side, choking on more of the liquid.

----------

Hyrule awoke to a scream.

Loud and violent, his whole body jolted at the sound as he lept into a seated position with his sword pulled ready, eyes scanning the camp frantically for the threat he had expected.

Only to see nothing. Merely his brothers in spirit, jolted awake and alarmed similarly to him as they all glanced around and wondered about the sound that had woken them all from their slumber.

Hyrule’s hand moved towards your body.

And his stomach dropped when he didn’t feel you there.

“No…”

It was happening.

When the silhouette of Legend began rushing back into camp, bloodied and panicked the traveller knew already what had happened- he didn’t need to glance at the mass in the Veteran’s arms to know it was you, the bolt still protruding through your ribcage as the small blonde screamed for them all to do something- ready the potions, ready the fairies, anything. His hysterics would have been almost comical if the brunette didn’t feel like his world was crashing down around him as he watched your hand limply hang, unmoving.

“Oh dear Three-”

“Put them down, quickly!”

“We must remove the bolt!”

Hyrule pounced when his body finally snapped back into attention, rushing to your side like a bat out of hell when the blonde had carefully handed you towards the Captain and the Old Man- the soldier carefully snapping off the fletching of the arrow to slide the item out of your chest, the horrible bloodied squelch making the brunette’s stomach twist and churn in horror and fear.

He didn’t see Warrior’s fingers against your pulse, nor the slow head shake towards the horrified Time.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered gently, soothingly, as his hands glowed a familiar white.

“Traveller-” Warriors started.

“You’re going to be okay, I’m going to make it stop.” He pressed his hand over the wound, ignoring the blood blooming around his fingers and soaking them in red. “I know it hurts-”

“Traveller.” Time’s voice was firm, his hand landing on his shoulder. “Stop.”

Hyrule held back from decking the old man where he stood. “”WHAT?! NO!! Are you INSANE-”

“They’re already gone, Hyrule.”

Wild’s voice was…gentle. Gentle and pained as he kneeled next to the frozen hero, carefully moving his hands from the puncture wound to stop the man from further staining his hands in your blood. The Champion’s face was broken, ears down turned and eyes blank as he looked over your broken form- the spark that once danced in your eyes now gone with the gentle rhythm of your breaths.

Hyrule waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Your chest did not move.

Warriors hand gently ran over your eyes, closing the lids so that they no longer had to see the dead stare aimed towards the trees ahead. He moved to softly kiss your forehead after with an even softer apology.

“I…..I promised…” Hyrule muttered, eyes glazing over as tears began to blur his vision of your dead body, still warm to the touch. “I promised-”

“I’m sorry, brother.” Wild whispered, moving to hold Hyrule gently. “I’m sorry.”

The silence hanging over them all was heavy, save for the small sniffles and hiccups of the few. Twilight was trying to console a near uncontrollable Legend, bloody hands roughly grabbing the fur of his hide as he sobbed and choked on tears. Wind was turned into Four, the shorter man holding him close and away from the visceral scene. The rest were stock still, quiet and unsure of what to do, of what to say, as they continued to stare at your…corpse.

Warriors bowed his head. “We should give them a burial.”

“No-” Hyrule gasped, feeling both rage and a cold emptiness within him. “No, I- I need to-” “There isn’t anything else you can do, traveller.” Time’s voice was soft but firm. “Our only option is to bury them…and if we find our way back to their homeland, return their belongings to their mother.”

Hyrule perked up, head swivelling round towards your bag a little ways away.

Belongings…

The

Doll.

His heart surged and in a moment of pure adrenaline, he shoved Wild to the side and dived towards your rucksack, ignoring his brother’s grunt or the other yells.

“Link!”

The brunette grasped the thing frantically, near ripping the strange contraption you called a zipper as he rummaged messily through your back, tossing your things wildly as he looked for the wretched ‘gift’.

“Traveller, stop this!” The voice of Four called, trying to grab his arm. “What are you doing-”

Hyrule didn’t even feel remorse when he roughly shoved his elbow into the nose of the short hero and sent him flying onto his arse.

More yells of his name were heard but they were quite easily ignored when his eyes finally laid eyes on the doll of your likeness, aggressively snatching the carefully crafted toy with a desperation and anger he hadn’t felt for years. He turned back to scramble towards your body, the doll gripped in his hand like it was his lifeline only for Sky and Time to roughly grab his arms, their voices falling on deaf is as he wildly scratched and bit at them, trying to fight his way out.

“Release me!” He roared, catching Sky by the cheek and causing the Skyloftian to wince in pain. “Let me go! I can save them!”

“Enough of this, Link!” Time yelled, both desperate and firm, his own face riddled in anguish. “They are gone! Let them rest in peace!”

Hyrule’s heart thumped painfully in his chest at the thought of you dead, lost to him forever more before he pushed himself harder until he caught the arm of the Old Man and sunk his teeth into the skin, the Hero of Time crying out in pain and finally releasing him- Chosen quickly diving to aid the blonde as the traveller rushed to your side and pressed the doll against you.

“Do your job!!” He yelled into the night air, “Heal them! Bring them back!”

Wild and Warriors pinned him this time, Hyrule’s face pressed into the dirt with them both keeping his arms down to stop him from swiping or nipping at his brothers once again.

“That’s enough!” Warriors’ commanding voice bellowed, pushing Hyrule’s face further into the ground. “Calm down or else, traveller!”

Hyrule’s eyes bore tears once again, struggling once more with both pleas and threats falling from his mouth, merging into a mess of gibberish the further and further he spiralled into a wobbly heap of tears and sorrow beneath the other Links. This couldn’t be the end, the doll couldn’t be a dud- it was supposed to bring you back. You were supposed to be here! You weren’t dead! You couldn’t be dead! He didn’t want you dead! This had to be a nightmare, conjured by Ganon’s monsters to torture him and break him. You- You-

There was a popping sound behind them and heads snapped towards it.

“What was that?” Time asked, still nursing his bleeding bite mark. “Where did that come from?”

Wind’s eyes were wide. “The doll just…exploded?”

Hyrule’s breath stopped.

…

Just as yours returned.

Shaky and hoarse, your body moved with a violent inhale of breath, shaking from the strain and following with heavy coughs as you breathed like it was the first time, lungs born anew. The others watched in a curious shock as you continued to hack and heave, pushing your body up from the ground- the doll falling from your chest into the dirt below.

The toy's chest held a puncture, white wool stuffing blooming at the hole with a few stray curls falling into the dirt.

Hyrule sobbed in relief.

“(Name)!” Wind threw himself at you, arms wrapping around your neck tightly as he shoved his face into your shoulder. “You’re okay- You’re okay!!”

You continued to gasp for breath, the many men around you rushing to your side to aid your effort as Hyrule pushed himself to his hand and knees, smiling a wet and wobbly grin as he listened to you, alive, once more- returned to him from the realm of the dead. You were back, you came back and his heart swelled with a plethora of emotions that made his entire being shake.

Hyrule crawled over to you, frozen and still not sure of your own surroundings as his hands came to engulf your face, his eyes looking back into your own- glazed in confusion and lingering fear that made his heart squeeze in regret.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, “I am so sorry- I broke our promise.”

Your mouth opened then closed. Then opened and closed once again. Looking for the words to express the feelings behind your petrified gaze, your throats managing noise but that alone in an seemingly endless cycle of struggle and torment. Only when you whimpered, tearing up with a shaky sob did the man embrace you and hold close- careful to keep the bloody hands off you. He didn’t want you to see it.

The dolls never did quite clean up the mess.

----------

Hyrule trekked through his woodland, bumping through branches and harshly knocking away bushes as a man on a mission. Eyes narrowed with anger, the flickered with the flames of hell and rage as he stomped his way towards his destination.

“Where are you going?” Time had asked, watching the traveller pull on his cloak. “Don’t you think it unwise to leave when they just got to sleep?”

You laid in a comfortable heap in your sleep mat, wrapped in both your own blanket and the brunette’s, Wind and Wild laid comfortably beside you and Wolfie acting as your pillow. All were resting, vanished into the land of dreams with the many other men around camp. They were close too, like bodyguards they surrounded you afraid of what had already happened.

Time was left for watch and Hyrule took his opportunity.

“I have some business to deal with.” His voice was void of his usual softness, a growl of a predator with the malice near sharp as Ganon’s himself. “I’ll be back.”

Time narrowed his eye. “We will search for whoever did this in the morning.”

“That is not what I am doing.”

“Then what is? Tell me, traveller, what could you possibly be doing?”

Hyrule’s hand grabbed the doll, his hand tight enough to near pop its beady button eyes right from its wool skull.

Hyrule pulled his hood over his head.

“I will return soon.”

Hyrule ripped another branch from his face, eyes finally narrowing in on the large house in the distance. Like he had seen it once before, warped beyond comprehension yet still perceivable to his naked eye. It haunted his dreams now, echoes of a horrid encounter that shook him to the core and left invisible scars that still marred his soul-

She was there once again, the exact same spot as the time before, the exact same position, her arms crossed over her chest with a menial smile plastered over her lips that only grew as the Hero of Hyrule stepped out from the shadows of the trees, still tightly gripping the ruined doll within his grasp.

Despite her calm disposition, he could so clearly see the hunger in her eyes, even from his spot. “Did your friend like my gift?”

Hyrule’s hand twitched to his blade, hanging from his hip opposed to his back- easier and faster to draw. “I should kill you where you stand.”

The Dollmaker’s chuckle held a twisted humour like poking a sleeping, starved bear. “You should- but you won’t.”

Hyrule’s eye twitched. “What do you want with them? They have no power- no fighting capability or anything you could possibly want.”

“Ah,” She tapped her nose with the constant smile. “You will come to know. Or maybe you won’t, wouldn’t it be more fun to find out yourself?”

“Stay away from them.” He stepped up to her door’s steps, eyes manic in rage. “Leave them be.”

Her already massive smile grew.

The Dollmaker was not someone Hyrule liked to encounter. When her dolls appeared death usually followed, mostly his own, the many sawdust filled dummies gathering dust in the darkness in his bag as a constant reminder of what you had been through during his adventures. Sometimes he saw different ones, of faces he had only glimpsed at in towns or villages, but he saw them- he had seen one of her own long ago. Saw the damage dealt to it’s surface when he had the unfortunate chance of crossing into her shop looking for some magic items he was already lacking.

She liked to collect them; that was the idea he had conjured anyway.

Raising your doll high, he presented the damaged little soft toy towards her and saw how her pupils grew at the sight. While her hands were gentle to grab it she practically snatched it from his hands and cradled the thing close to her chest, gently caressing the spot where the hole had formed.

“Even a cursed doll, you handle them gentle.” Her comment made him huff, his arms crossing to hold back from doing something he regretted. “I showed them mercy, you know.”

Hyrule ground his teeth. “You think shooting them in the chest is mercy?”

“Compared to what else I could have done, yes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s only fair if I have my fun.”

The Hero turned his head away. “You’re sick.”

And the Dollmaker hummed. “I will return with another.”

She disappeared into the darkness of her house, footsteps gently fading off as Hyrule stood just below the doorway, pearing in and hoping to see the mystery of her disorted abode. No luck however, his eyes only soaked in the dark abyssal, his ears twitching at the sounds of creaking floorboards and groaning wood of the walls, focusing and focusing in a near trance until the sight of her eye peering through the darkness made him take a cautious step back.

When had he climbed the steps?

“Here.” She said, once again both calm and giddy as she presented the doll to him- another little you, with a stitched little smile like the last. “I hope they enjoy it.”

Hyrule carefully snatched the doll away before jogging down the steps and headed back towards the forest without another word.

“It didn’t feel right to use sawdust.” The brunette paused, slightly moving his head in indication that he was listening- not that it mattered. He knew she would continue on, even if he had trudged off. “I felt they needed something a little more…lively and I of course couldn’t brush off the idea of using the finest of sheep’s wool. I think it suited them much more, don’t you agree?”

…Hyrule kept walking.

[writingsofwesteros]

kinktober request where sanderson sisters!rhaenyra,alicent and helena are summoned back to life by virgin fem reader and they decide to thank her with kinky magic sex !

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

The cold breeze of the forest easily brushed over your body that was hardly covered. Only a black, see through material was wrapped around you as the words of Latin began to fall from your soft lips. Gods, you could not believe you were doing such a thing. To summon these infamous sisters; one of them was dangerous enough..but all three.

But you had no choice. Not with that beast circling you like a meal. You would be dead by the end of the month, you were sure of it. It was your last resort; you prayed to yourself as the fire around you only built to higher flame. The wind howled and had you shivering once more as those sweet breasts of yours pebbled with ease.

A gulp escaped you as soft laughter began to echo in your ears as well as the woodlands surrounding you. Shivers ran down your spine as you began to play with your slender, ringed fingers that were painted blood red. The wind only grew now as you sweetly looked over your shoulder; your heart pounding in your ears.

“Oh, we do seem to have gotten such a gift.” A soft, silky voice that sent shivers down your spine for other reasons than the cold had you slowly turning your head. A soft gulp escaped you when those doe eyes of yours found the three sisters who were seemingly Goddesses as much as witches. You had not been told of their beauty.

It was hard to make the differences between the blondes but you had heard enough of their pecking order to realise the one who spoke was the leader herself; Rhaenyra. A soft gulp escaped you as your eyes moved down her voluptuous body that the blood red dress seemingly clung to. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears already.

Those bright eyes of hers were burrowed into your own as a smirk tugged on those soft looking lips. “It seems she likes you.” A voice purred from behind and only caused you to gasp aloud, much to the amusement of the three. “Don’t get jealous now, Ali.” Rhaenyra purred as you finally turned around to face Alicent herself.

Those auburn locks of hers cascaded down her back as the emerald dress wrapped around her seductively. It was those big, dark eyes that you found yourself getting lost in as her mouth watering scent washed over you. A giggle echoed around your body as you stepped forward as if in a thrawl. “Oh, does she have a new favourite?” Rhaenyra purred in amusement.

“She’s not as mean as she looks.” A new voice came into the conversation and you knew it was the last sister. Helaena’s angelic body came into view with those soft, bright locks in a loose braid. Alicent only huffed and moved to the side for Helaena to replace her. If you weren’t so lost in Helaena’s hypnotic presence; you would have noticed the soft kiss the other two women shared.

The white, lace dress flowing around her body as she steps closer. “Hmm, now what could you possibly need?” Helaena purred as her hand gently reached for your own lock of hair and began to play. She tugged on them and you couldn’t stop the bright blush moving across your cheeks at the gasp escaping you with ease.

Her free hand slowly moved down your arm before she was soon resting on your hip. The thin layer of material gave no fight as she began to stroke you. “My coven–they want to murder me.” The words fumbled from your soft lips as you only had eyes for Helaena but you knew your words had gotten the other two’s attention.

“And why would they want something like this?” Alicent whispered; perfect eyebrows raised as she came into view once more. Her big eyes were full of something you couldn’t place as they moved over your body. Your lips parted for you to lie but all you were met with was a twitch of a smirk on her lips. “Oh, it seems we have a little, pretty liar on our hands.”

~

“You taste so delicious.” Rhaenyra purred into your ear; not that you were truly understanding any words coming your way as the intense pleasure took over. Your now bare, soft body arched from the bedding that had seemingly appeared at their convenience. “Please—oh,ah.” You hardly knew how much time had passed since your punishment had begun.

Soon, she leaned back in for her hot mouth to engulf your soft breast. Her free hand roughly palmed your other as it bounced. Your legs were shaking as you found the strength to look down. Those famous locks of Alicent greeted you before those big eyes of hers did. Her soft mouth practically makes love to your creamy, sensitive pussy.

The obscene, wet sounds her mouth was making as she feasted had you whining out her name. “I wonder, will you lie again?” Helaena purred, brushing your noses together as those tears that had welled up in your eyes finally fell down your cheeks. The act only had her giggling as she licked at them whilst her slender hand slowly moved south.

“Please…no more, I …” Your scream of pleasure echoed around the woods once more as they giggled. The electricity that Helaena could control had your sweet, sensitive clit on fire in all the best ways as you couldn’t hold back the climax. You were soon squirting on Alicent’s face whilst your toes curled. “I imagine you are hungry..” Rhaenyra purred as she gracefully moved.

Gods, when was it going to stop, you thought as your eyes watched the Goddess above you. “Good girl, so good.” Rhaenyra whispered her praises as your mouth could only water and receive her. Her delicate hands moved into your hair now as you began to suck. Your tongue kitten licking as you hummed and moaned against her.

The red, silk ties that had wrapped around your wrists slowly moved away on their own as you greedily reached for Rhaenyra. Your hands palming at your arse as your hunger only increased even as your body still shook with the pleasure coming your way. You cried into Rhaenyra’s body as two slender fingers pushed inside your warm, welcoming pussy. 

The sparks Helaena was playing with continued as you heard them whispering to each other. “Hmm, we should keep her..” Helaena whispered as Rhaenyra slowly began to move her body against your greedy tongue. Her wetness feeding you now as you hummed; sending vibrations against her whilst her hold on you tightened.

“She would be ruined.” Alicent’s soft voice continued as her thumb was swiping across your clit again and again. Your stomach was tightening in anticipation as your sixth climax of the evening was easily building. A cry of yours was muted as Rhaenyra’s moans began to echo when Alicent pushed a third finger inside your soaked, fluttering pussy.

Alicent curled them with expertise and easily bullied her soft, spongy spot that had her eyes rolling back once more. Rhaenyra whispered her praises as her own head fell back; those locks of hers free in the cold wind that hardly bothered you now as the heat from the sisters wrapped around you. It was an addictive feeling, you thought to yourself. 

“I am sure we can protect her from your husband, sweet Helaena..” Rhaenyra hummed but there was no reply from the angel until you realised her hot mouth was now sucking on your clit. The questions of her husband or what they had planned completely fell from your lips. Still, you knew you would be safe away from your coven now. A sharp gasp escaped you once more as you felt a larger object being pushed inside you. “Shhh, do not worry…you will like this…” Rhaenyra whispered whilst her own moans were falling from her lips. Her movements only quickened now as she obscured your view of Alicent fucking you with the strap that had materialised as if it was her own fat, throbbing cock. Helaena’s soft tongue still teases your clit and you soon lose yourself in the pleasure. Their bodies engulfed you as the pleasure became too much. Your vision was darkening as your body was like a woman possessed against them. “We have such plans for you..” Helaena purred before biting down on your thigh.

[keysatthecrossroad]

O night, faithful friend of mysteries;

and you, golden stars and moon, who follow the fiery star of day;

and you, Hecate, goddess with threefold head, you know my designs and come to strengthen my spells and magic arts;

and you, earth, who offer your potent herbs to magic;

and airs, winds, mountains, streams, and lakes, and all you woodland gods, and all you gods of the night:

Be present now.

~Prayer of Medea to Hecate, Ovid, The Metamorphoses

[starlight-starfury]

Under Starlit Boughs

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Characters: (F!Elf!MC) Raine Nightbloom x Tyril Starfury

Rating: General

Warnings: None, but I’ll warn you it’s unapologetically sappy 😅

Length: 2k

Summary: After talking about the old parties of legend, the Fae realise they finally have cause to throw one of their own.

Tags: @liviusofpella @watatsumi-island @inlocusmads @lilyoffandoms @brycesgirl @sophie-summer @lancelotsimp @megas-choices @princess-geek @julia-highstorms @citrusdarling @mavidraws @lover-also-fighter-also @otakudreamer @stars-are-within-me @mari-lwyd-fannibal-blog @camillyohfreire @mindlesschicca @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @choicesficwriterscreations (tagging everyone who interacted with this post, if anyone wants to be added to the tag-list permanently please let me know! I’ll be making a post about it in a few days as well 💜)

A/N: Because we deserved a cute Whimsywood date 🫶

A song of laughter echoed in the air as everyone sat crowded together under the shade of the pearl petal tree, telling stories and sharing fruits that tasted of sweet mallow and fine dew.

Even the forest seemed to find wonder in the joyous occasion as the trees sent forth a gentle breeze, causing the flowering boughs above to sway and the soft petals to cascade down around the storytellers like light rainfall.

As the Fae reminisced over tales passed down from their ancestors about the Light realm, questions began to arise, and Tyril spoke. “Stories of your parties have become legend in our world. What were they really like?”

“That was long before I sprouted,” the Fae Elder answered, silent throughout the conversation but now smiling fondly at the memory. “But I heard the tales from my elders. They spoke of intricate fashion, delectable foods and wine that tasted of Light.”

“You mean to say, you’ve never thrown one yourselves?” Raine asked.

Willow shook their head. “Very few of us remain, and we’ve no cause to celebrate of late. Not with Shadow lurking so close.”

“Of course you do!” She said. “You’ve been trapped in the shadow realm for centuries, isn’t returning to your homeland worth celebrating?”

The Fae whispered and hummed amongst themselves for a moment, their murmurs like the faint rustling of leaves amid the forest undergrowth before they leapt to their feet enthusiastically.

“Raine is right!” Willow declared, beaming. “Let us all rejoice. To returning to the realm of Light, and to honour our new friends who will help ward our forest from the Shadow!”

The glade seemed to thrum with excitement as everyone stood and the Fae began making their preparations. Raine made her way over to Tyril, who had leant against one of the ancient trees and was gazing around at the magical clearing, awestruck.

“I see some things never change,” she grinned. “I’m glad you finally got to meet the Fae, Tyril.”

A smile touched his lips as she reached his side. “I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

He nodded back to the forest, where multicoloured orbs of light drifted through the air like fireflies. “It’s incredible that a place so vibrant and full of life can exist in a world such as this.”

Raine looked towards the enchanted scenery, admiring how the trees seemed to bend and dip their branches in greeting to the Fae as they walked past, and how the glowing flowers bloomed in clusters like starlit nebulae below. It made her mind drift back to the Deadwood, the decayed forest merely remnants of a distant memory compared to the magical sight before her.

“Well,” she said at last, “if all this travelling has taught me anything, it’s that beauty often thrives in chaos.”

Tyril’s eyes softened as his gaze shifted to her new attire. She looked like a forest nymph or woodland goddess in the sylvan dress, woven of emerald silk and flowing gossamer that shimmered like dappled sunlight alongside the entwined branches climbing across her fair skin. A crown of leaves was nestled in her hair, and her eyes shone violet as the wisteria blossoms above.

“It does, indeed.” His smile was tender as he reached up to gently cup her cheek and she swayed into his touch, his words a faint whisper against her skin. “Even the stars envy the brightness at which you shine.”

His sentiments were proven true as she beamed under his praise, but before she could answer him the Fae returned to the clearing all at once, and the moment was disturbed like ripples spreading across the surface of a tranquil pond.

“Come, come!” Willow beckoned, and the group reconvened beneath the pearl petal tree once more.

Raine noticed some of the Fae were holding instruments, elegant wooden flutes with budding sprouts that appeared to have been carved from the branches of a fallen tree.

“Is this one of your traditions?” She asked.

“Yes!” Tansy clapped. “The Fae Circle is one of our oldest celebrations, with much music and dancing!”

“Hang on, a Fae Circle?” Mal said before turning to the rest of the group, voice hushed. “Are you sure this isn’t just a trick to keep us here forever?”

“Mal!” Nia scolded. “Don’t be rude!”

“What, haven’t you heard the legends? Mortals who entered a Fae circle were never seen again.”

Imtura followed his gaze pointedly towards where a series of petrified faces were engraved in the bark of a large tree. “…Those aren’t just carvings, are they?”

Willow’s large eyes saddened, a swirling mist shimmering within the dark pupils. “They came to harm our forest, but the trees are our home and family. They would have plucked us from the soil one by one and uprooted everything!”

Raine leant in to whisper to Tyril. “Is all of this true?”

He nodded slowly. “I’ve said before that the Fae are made of magic down to their very essence. That power can become wild and unrestrained if provoked, and it sounds as though they’ve been a target in the shadow realm for some time.”

The nearby Fae’s ears began to droop as Willow continued speaking. “We try to strengthen our roots and bloom despite our hardships, but the trees cast a heavy shadow, and our numbers grow smaller still.”

Raine frowned. “You won’t have to worry about that in the Light realm, we’ll make sure no one harms your forest.”

Willow’s eyes brightened once more at her encouragement. “We cannot thank you enough! Please understand, the Fae Circle is an act of joy and all will be safe. And since you have come to help us, the forest will always remember you as friends.”

Tansy nodded. “The trees also like it when we play music to them, their boughs are always lighter and their leaves shine bright.”

“How does the Fae Circle start?” Tyril asked, and those holding instruments sat themselves upon the grass, lifting their flutes as they began playing a delicate yet jubilant tune.

“Everyone must stand in a circle around the tree and hold hands!” Willow said cheerfully, and Raine smiled as Tyril entwined his fingers with hers.

The rest of the Fae were the ones who began leading the dance, and the others quickly picked up the unfamiliar steps. It wasn’t long before everyone found themselves spinning and twirling around the pearl petal tree in unison.

Laughter filled the air once more, and the sweet petals drifted down around them as though joining in the dance as well until everyone was rosy-cheeked and breathless.

The celebration carried on through brief respites, sharing refreshing drinks between dances and telling stories both old and new. For once, both the realms were united in their joy, and together they could help the Fae create a brighter future for their people, and for each other.

When all the air had escaped her lungs, Raine wandered towards the edge of the glade to catch her breath. It wasn’t long until Tyril found his way to her side, and together they both sat down on a fallen, moss-covered log.

She looked up to where the branches of the great trees parted to reveal the vast night sky, an expanse of darkness that seemed impenetrable by even the brightest light, unusually empty and bare.

“There are no stars here,” she murmured. Without them, the sky felt hollow, like a canvas lying blank. No famed hero’s legacies lied etched across the surface, no constellations adorned the sky shimmering with stories still untold, no glimmer of hope was to be found in the endless dark that stretched on eternal.

“Then we make our own.” Tyril said, before he cupped his hands and little motes of starlight drifted from his fingers into the air. The colourful specks hovered there for a moment, emitting a soft glow that pulsed in unison with the rhythm of their beating hearts before rising up to settle themselves among the lush branches.

“They’re beautiful.” She smiled and they both sat quietly for a moment, feeling more at ease in a realm full of chaos and uncertainty while in each other’s presence, watching as the lights twinkled softly above.

“Do you find it strange? Seeing a sky without them?” Raine asked.

He nodded slowly. “In Undermount we revere the stars, our very existence is mirrored in their being. The history of our people is written among them, with each great victory and tragedy carved into the constellations like a woven tapestry to display all we have been through, and all that is to come.”

Tyril lifted his gaze past the tree branches. “To imagine a place without their existence feels…wrong.”

She looked down, subconsciously beginning to rub her wrist. The skin where her bindings had been was red and raw, another reminder that she had allowed herself to be captured, that she had been weak.

A frown creased his expression as he glanced at her hands, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. “None of us blame you for what happened.”

“And what if I blame myself?” She whispered, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Everyone went through so much because of me, especially you…”

Raine trailed off as he slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to the inside of her wrist, each brush of his lips lighter than a butterfly’s wings.

She dipped her head as her cheeks flushed light pink, warming under his gaze before he pulled her into his arms and she leant her head to rest against his shoulder.

He murmured into her hair. “I couldn’t protect you last time and I…I blamed myself every day you were gone because of it.”

“Tyril…” she frowned. “None of that was your fault.”

“I know, but that does not change the fact that I failed you.” His eyes filled with sorrow as he traced a finger along her jaw, tilting her chin to look at him. “Every day my heart ached for your return. To see you again, even if you were but a fragment of a dream…”

She let the tears fall as she pressed her lips softly to his, overcome by emotion as she ran her fingers through his raven hair, longer than she remembered. His kiss held all his heartache and remorse from that painful year before he leant back, resting his forehead against her own.

They stayed that way until a softer tune began to play from the more lively part of the forest, and Raine threaded her fingers through his. “May I?”

“Always,” he smiled as she led him to his feet, the two of them alone in their own section of the woods. “Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Danced?” She asked, and a pleasant night breeze surrounded them as Tyril guided her into position. “You mean at the masquerade?”

He nodded. “Sometimes that feels like a lifetime ago, as though everything has changed since then.”

“And yet, nothing at all.” She said, her voice quiet and tinged with sorrow.

His gaze was far away for a moment before he looked back towards her once more. “Never mind that now, all that matters is having you back in my arms.”

“And there's no place I'd rather be,” she smiled.

He spun her into a graceful twirl before pulling her back in close, and they swayed together gently as the song slowly faded into the next.

They danced until Raine found herself backed against one of the grand oak trees, and when she looked up she could still see the little stars Tyril had summoned earlier hovering among the branches, some of them twinkling as though they were shooting across the sky.

“I like having our own little universe,” she said, and the bark was rough against her fingertips as he leaned in for a kiss once again, like a blazing star that would sooner collapse than part from her touch.

“The night sky is ours,” he assured, and the rest of the forest seemed to melt away under his embrace, until it was just the two of them dancing beneath their stars above.

[marsprincess889]

NAKSHATRAS AS GODDESSES

5/27

🌙Mrigashira🦌

DISCLAIMER: This is based solely on my research and the patterns that I saw. I can't promise that I'm gonna be sure in all the coorelations, but I'm going to attribute each nakshatra a goddess that I think fits it the closest. If you're dissapointed, to make up for it, I'm going to list some other deities in the end that I think also fit the nakshatra. Don't come for me if you think I'm wrong, be respectful in the comments if you think so and have fun 🤍

This one is more of a collection of very similar goddesses who are all pretty much well-suited for Mrigashira. I still chose the principal goddess, although it was very hard to focus on only one.

Flidais

Pantheon: Celtic

Name meaning: soft-haired, fair haired.

Associations: Hunting, woodlands, wild animals, cattle, deer.

Symbols: deer

Flidais is a somewhat obscure Celtic goddess of the hunt. She's similar to more famous goddesses: Artemis and Diana, but unlike them, she's not a virgin and her story is different.

The mythology of Mrigashira is about how the seeming perfection of Rohini (the union of sexes) gets shattered. It's the birth of seduction and pursuit between the sexes, this is the place where Eve eats the forbidden fruit and becomes aware that she's separate from the male, not just something to be placed under his submission, as she was in Rohini. In Hindu mythology, when Rohini realizes that she's desired by Brahma, she turns into a doe and flees. Brahma then turns into a deer and chases her, before his head is cut off by God Rudra (God of the next nakshatra_ Ardra), thus, the deers's head being Mrigashira's symbol.

The story of goddess Flidais goes like this: She's unhappily married to a man she dies not love, feeling stuck and not knowing what to do, until another man appears, with whom she shares a deep love. He gets challenged by Flidais's husband, and he wins. As a reward, he gives deer and cattle to Flidais, for her to have something on her own, placing his faith in her. In one myth, she's said to have transformed into a stag.

Flidais has a surname, Foltcháin, meaning "beautiful(soft) hair". Mrigashira belongs to a clan of nakshatras called Pulastya (smooth haired).

Besides Flidais, there are other goddesses that can be coorelated to Mrigashira. One of them is Dali- Georgian goddess of the hunt, deer and other horned wild animals. She's said to have beautiful, long golden hair and is the Goddess that governs the rules of the hunt. Either completely nude or dressed only in white, she frequently mated with humans as she wished, just like the female in Mrigashira awakening to her own sexual power. She was said to be unbelievably beautiful, both irresistible and terrible. Dali was harsh with those who violated her rules. She lived in a cavern in a mountain. Parvati, the goddess that was born under this nakshatra, was the goddess of mountains, among other things.

There is also a story about a celtic maiden named Sadhbh, who refused to accept a Druid's advances and because of that, was cursed to be a doe. After three years, the serving man of that druid took pity on her and said that if she were ever to set foot in the dún (castle, fort) of the Fianna of Ireland, the curse would be lifted. Fianna were small bands of warrior-hunters in Ireland during the Iron age and early middle ages. Sadhbh travelled straight to a house that belonged to a Fionn. She was found by him as a doe when he was out hunting. His dogs didn't harm her since they too had been humans before. When they returned to the house, Sadhbh was once again a beautiful girl. They got married.

After Fionn was called to battle against the Vikings, the druid reached Sadhbh and laid the same curse on her, again. Fionn spent several years searching for his wife, but without success. At the end of those seven years he found a wild boy in the forest who said he was raised by a doe. Fionn looked at his face and recognising his wife's features, he realised that he was looking at their son. The boy was Oisín, a famous figure in Irish mythology.

Another interesting deity is the Albanian goddess Zana- goddess of the mountains. Zana were said to be fairies who lived in the mountains and bathed in waterfalls and river streams in nature. They're said to have a very brave character that was known to all. She's a somewhat obscure goddess given her name comes from the name of a creature, but I thought that she was interesting nontheless.

I want to talk about Mrigashira's ruling deity- the moon god Soma. Soma is also known to be the exilir of immortality. Mrigashira's power is to give fulfillment, so to drink Soma, to eat the forbidden fruit, to attain something not everyone has access to is risky, but it's worth the risk. Mrigashira is also associated with quests, adventures and bravery (just like Bharani, the other Venus-Mars ruled nakshatra). The real life natives of Mrigashira are often daring and inquisitive, always craving something else besides what they have.

The moon god being Mrigashira's deity makes me think that Artemis- Greek goddess of the moon, hunting, deer and other wild animals is a great fit for it, but her virginal nature is not in alignment with Mrigashira. If we think of her virginity as simply her being unmarried and independent, then she definitely can be coorelated to Mrigashira. The same goes for Diana- her Roman equivalent.

Some other deities I coorelated to Mrigashira other than Flidais:

Artemis- Greek goddess of hunting, deer, wild animals, the Moon and virgins.

Diana- The Roman equivalent of Artemis.

Dali- Georgian goddess of hunting, deer and other horned wild animals.

Zana- Albanian fairy goddess of the mountains.

Sadhbh- Irish doe-maiden goddess

Cernnunos- Celtic horned god, the god of wild things.

This is it for Mrigashira. I'm very happy I found the Goddesses whose mythologies were so obviously similar to Mrigashira's. As I said, it was hard to choose just one, but I think that I made the right choice, given that Flidais ticked off the most similarities. I'm consistently fascinated by the coorelations between seemingly unrelated cultures and this one was big. It's also my sun, rahu and saturn placement, so no pressure there lol.

Anyways, let me know what you think. Like COMMENT AND REBLOG, please interact with me if you found this interesting. Love you, and take care 🤍🤍🤍

[viviennevermillion]

Consider: Elven Prince Bernard and Elven Knight Bethina / Betty (they're hard to sketch so excuse the oopsies).

I think after Disney didn't even manage to successfully nostalgia-bait me (and I'm someone who likes the Star Wars sequels and Season 5-8 of Winx Club so this really says something), we should have a medieval fantasy AU as a treat!

Ideas for what I might draw next / brainrot about:

Witch Sandra — like with a pointy hat and everything! Perhaps with Befana giving her advice but I don't think my skills are good enough to pull that off help

Alternative idea: Disney Princess Sandra who attracts little woodland creatures when she sings (her singing is awful for comic relief purposes and it still makes the finches flock to her)

Court Jester Cal "Do you think Riley will like me in this outfit?" Calvin

Noblewoman Riley

Court Jester Noel — in solidarity with Court Jester Cal

Royal Advisor Edie

Curtis as whatever the male version of a handmaiden is + handbook

Roy Enchantix! — like with big ass fae wings

Snow King Jack. Like, Elsa but shadier.

Mother Nature (we really need to give her a proper name. come on, this fandom is like 10 people, we can make it happen!) as a gorgeous nature spirit! Or maybe as a goddess? Both would work 🤔

What do we do with Scott? Do we just make him the king because the previous king died in his front yard? Can you imagine that?

I think Charlie would work as a knight

I know this isn't medieval but we can slap a Victorian dress onto Carol and have her beat someone up with a high heel but I'm not sure I can draw that 😂

Laura and Neil as regular citizens from some backwater village who don't believe in magic until Elven Prince Bernard plunders their fridge

Magnus Antas as like,,,, Tom Bombadil. A very evil, slightly more feral Tom Bombadil.

[m-jelly]

Hello can I request a levi x nature goddess reader. Thank you

@kenkopanda-art <3

Delicate love

Levi x fem! Reader

Alternative world, fluff, romance, goddess reader, falling in love.

Levi stumbles through the woods with a wound on his body, he expects to die. He collapses and before he passes out he sees someone beautiful. Levi awakes within your realm and under your protection. Smitten, Levi does as you say and doesn't want to leave.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

The pain started to fade away as his body went cold. Blood oozed between fingers as the light faded from steel blue eyes. The fight to live was fading away. He was tired, so very tired of everything. Only a small thought flickered through his mind, at least his last place he'd ever be in was nice.

His foot caught on the root of a tree. He slammed against the soft woodland floor and grunted as air escaped his lungs. He winced in pain and lifted his head to see a grand oak tree before him with a cute little offering temple. His eyes widened in awe at how much was offered, along with delicate flowers around the tree.

He pushed himself up and stumbled to the little temple. He collapsed before it and panted. "Please...please...I just want...happiness." He rolled onto his back and looked up at the light filtering through the trees.

He gasped when a shimmering pink light appeared. He tried to focus on it, but he was struggling. He smiled as the most beautiful woman he has ever seen appeared above him. He smiled at you as he felt a wonderful feelings fill his chest.

You knelt beside him and caressed his cheek. "You've been so strong for so long." You leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I can help you, but I need an offering."

Levi sighed as his body relaxed. "I will give you my dedication and loyalty. I will do anything you ask of me."

You smiled and placed your hand on his bloodied wound. "You're offering all of you?"

"Yes."

You blushed hard. "I have never had such a wonderful and handsome offering." You lightly kissed his lips. "I accept. I promise to take great care of you."

The world faded away as Levi slipped into a deep sleep, but he was happy. Levi kept thinking about you and your wonderful smile, the feel of your lips on his and your divine scent. He felt such warmth inside him and his dreams were pure wonder and full of hope and happiness.

He inhaled deeply and opened his eyes as he felt warm. He sat up and watched a blanket fall off him. He frowned when he realised he was shirtless. "Tch, what in the world..." He stared at a few wolves sitting around him. "Hello?" He flinched when they started licking his face. He laughed a bit. "Thanks."

"Good, they like you."

Levi looked up to see you standing in a delicate dress with flowers in your hair. He felt his heart skip a beat. "It wasn't a dream."

You knelt next to Levi. "Let me check your wounds."

Levi shivered as your warm soft hand ran over his chest. "Mm."

You stopped moving your hand and locked eyes with Levi. "You have taken to my powers very well. I'm glad. You will live with me as promised."

Levi placed his hand on yours causing your cheeks to burn. "What an honour." He held your hand. "I'm Levi. What do I call you?"

You said your name and turned your head away as you felt flustered. "I am a goddess of nature."

"That's why I've always thought nature is so beautiful."

You pulled away from him and gasped. "Y-You..."

Levi moved closer to you. "Tell me what you want from me and I'll do it."

You covered your mouth with your hand as your heart skipped a beat. You stumbled to your feet and backed up. "You...my heart has never raced this much."

Levi got up to show his body off to you. "Shall I make it race more?"

You squeaked a little and tried to run. "Ah!"

Levi grabbed your wrist and pulled you against him. "Master, don't run." He nuzzled the crook of your neck. "You smell like peaches."

You shivered. "Mm."

Levi released you. "I'm ready to serve you. I will dedicate my heart." He played with some of your hair. "For eternity."

You gazed at Levi as your heart fluttered and butterflies flew around you. "That sounds...nice."

Levi smiled and began working hard for you. He would get you anything you needed and tend to the sweet animals who followed you around. Levi would listen to people's prayers, take offerings for you and give advice when you were overwhelmed with work. Levi loved it when you used your powers to put life into the world, such as grand trees, flowing rivers and sweet animals.

When you weren't working, Levi was trying to get to know you as best as he could. He would serve you drinks and food, then listen to you talk about your life. He would always smile around you and you would smile back. With time, you both got closer to each other.

Levi smiled at you when you returned to him after a long day of work. He hurried over to you and scooped you up into his arms making you squeal. "Master, you should rest! I have a nice place set up for you."

"Le-Levi, please put me down."

He squeezed you. "I will, once we get to a nice place to rest."

You whined a bit as your heart raced. "You are...mm..."

"Have I upset you?"

You shook your head. "No, you delight me."

Levi knew how you felt because you gave it away so easily by making flowers appear and butterflies. Life came to the world around the two of you. He was glad he made you so happy. Levi's life and happiness was you and would always be you now.

Levi sat on a gathering of cushions and lay you down so your head was on his lap. "There, now you can rest."

You gazed up at Levi as you blushed a little. "I would prefer it if you lay with me."

"That can be arranged." He slipped on the blanket and lay next to you. "You're beautiful."

You smiled softly and reached over to Levi's cheek, and then you gently caressed it. "I never thought I'd feel this way about someone. I have a lot of strange feelings inside me, good feelings." You smiled and leaned closer to him. "My sweet Levi."

Levi leaned over and kissed you. "Forgive me, master, but I adore you more than a worker or friend should."

You mewled at him. "Me too." You wrapped your arms around his neck. "You are mine for eternity."

Levi smiled a little. "Good." He pressed his lips against yours and hummed in happiness. His dream and wish were being granted every single day he was with you and would continue to be for eternity.

[monpalace]

Okok, so my brain is not working with writing rn BUT i will finish that “reader and time pinning” thing that i was doing I PROMISE

BUT for now imma just share some thoughts of Time because he is THE LOVE OF MY LIFE AND I NEED TO RANT ABOUT HIM

*ahem*

Ive said before (on my blog) that Time uses really old and kinda cringey petnames because 1, he genuinely loves them and 2, because he LOVES making the boys squirm in second hand embarrassment. SO, have a few more of those nicknames :D -> snookums, sugarplum, baby cakes, muffin, foxy, and toots

Young time (like teenage/young adult) was an absolute bastard BUT when he falls in love with someone, he is an absolute sweet heart! Think the ‘i hate everyone but you’ trope :3

Young! Time did not know romance AT ALL! That boy was raised by a tree and a bunch if spirit kids, he has know idea what a ‘date’ is. This leads to him just acting the same around his crush but being a little nicer to them

Is then very confused as to why they dont know that he likes them. “It was so obvious? I gave you a piece of my apple pie! I was so clear with my signs 🙄🙄”

He THEN reads all the romance novels he can get his hands on (legally and illegally) just so he can impress them! Completely misunderstood everything and now he just has to straight up tell them, cause how their hair is on fire…somehow

(Modern) Time is totally the type of guy that ‘doesn’t like drama shows’ but if his lover was watching one, he’d stand behind the couch and watch. But when his lover offers to move so he can sit hes like ‘no, im not even watching it. I was just bored’ and the proceeds to watch the next 3 episodes while standing.

(Modern) Time has a leather jacket that he LOVES!! Like he will cut someone for that thing, do not fuck with it. No one is aloud to wear it expect him….And his crush/lover but SHUSH!

Time enjoys polishing his armour/sword while you read a book out aloud. You both find it rather relaxing. Until something dramatic/a polt twists happens, all if the sudden the armour/sword is dropped to the side as Time is BAFFLED by this. “They killed Aaron?! Wh-what? Why!? He was the best choice for Max!” (Hes so invested, his duties are now discarded until you two finish this chapter)

I wanna do more but this is kinda chunky :3

I love dis man so much 🫶🫶

THE WAY I PHYSICALLY AND VERBALLY CRINGED AT FOXY??? bro's the type to say "hey foxy mama" when you walk into a room unironically, he literally has no shame whatsoever whenever someone points out how dated that sounds to

time would fit the secret admirer trope so well though? but he wouldn't even be secret about it?? the lon lon sisters def gave him the advice to "just be himself" and that gave him the idea to take stuff from his woodland-spirit background

"link, why is my house filled with flowers from floor to ceiling."

"that's not a declaration of adoration here? huh."

AND HIM TAKING THE ROMANCE BOOKS? personally, i feel like he's the type to sneak into the library when (supposedly) nobodies looking and just taking whatever he can carry before sneaking back out-- but in actuality it's just that nobody cares

someone asked zelda if he was allowed to take the books because they've been coming back in a damaged state (it's not bad, but while he's workshopping how he's gonna bring words to reality, he messes up a little) and she just says its fine so long as he isn't committing crimes with them (which he has done. several times. no one knows)

ofc there are questions as to WHY he's taking the romance books specifically, but the guards and librarians just chalk it up to him entering his weird boy phase ™️ and not because he has an interest in somebody because him?? having a love interest before half the other people in the castle??? Nah.

you catch modern! time watching a (raunchy) reality show once (like love island, or jersey shore-- maybe even teen mom) and he swears up, down, to the golden three, and to the sand goddess that he just kept it on for noise and that he's paying all his attention to his work even though you caught him ON VIDEO having the most expressive reactions to certain moments

BUT THE LEATHER JACKET ONE?? someone walks up to you while you're wearing it (your relationship with time isn't common knowledge yet) and they make a joke about him burying them alive if they mess it up-- no less just because you're wearing it.

time pops up out of literal thin air making excuses that you were cold (you were not), he was hot and didn't feel like carrying it (his goosebumps say otherwise), he thought there was a tear and he wanted to try and fix it (.. yeah, okay.), he only gave it to you because you said it would go with your outfit (that is not the only reason he'd give it to you), and everything else just to try to hide the fact that he's soft

(also, bonus points if you made it??? now not even the goddesses could touch it. he's about three seconds away from giving into the inner ferality of his childhood self and biting someone if they even look at it)

but tell me why i just imagine time getting ready to like, get in a fight or something, you read something so earth-shatteringly shocking in the book, and he's immediately like "the battle can wait. [opponent] was gonna lose anyways. we have to figure out what the devil is about to happen"

i'm literally scooping ur brain from ur skull, putting it on a table, and i'm gonna examine it for the rest of ur ideas mwah

[pearlsofthec]

To be inspired: 

April is like a breath of fresh air after months where it seemed like the gloominess of the days was the norm. My energies were high to the ceiling by the start of the month, and starting off something in such a positive state of mind is always a game changer. Arriving back at Milan from Rome on the 31st felt like a step into the first page of my life. As I checked into a hotel for a night as an improvised way of celebrating easter without my family, I felt renewed - in the spirit of the easter-time, I’d reborn in a way. I guess spring does that to all of us, it inspires a joie de vivre that fades without the blooming of flowers and chirping of birds. 

The inspiration of the month, overall, is that one scene from the first tinkerbell movie (BEAR WITH ME PLEASE), just in the beggining, where it shows her being born from the seed of a dandelion. Being re born from nature, embracing our own astral glow, and letting ourselves reflect the balance of our everyday lives. Basic clothing that looks elevated just because you’re wearing it, salutes to the sun, flower pressing and stacks of delicate jewelry are all within the spirit of spring. This season is all about capturing the bliss of mundane experiences and allowing it to multiply inside the ecochamber of positivity that is YOU! 

Wear butter yellow and baby pink.   

My current it girls:

Amanda seyfried

Phoebe Tonkin

Isabel Lucas 

Curating your vibe is way more fun in spring, when your outfits don’t have to be overpowered by layers upon layers upon layers of clothing. Many people say that it’s in the colder seasons when they get to express their style the best, hut I’m the complete opposite: i feel the most like myself when I’m feeling light, wearing airy clothing. 

Amanda Seyfried and Phoebe Tonkin are the epitomes of what I want my wardrobe to look like. Amanda style is simple but still personal, and to me, personally, she embraces the girl next door energy perfectly, principally in Dear John. The light pink and jeans combo is underrated and capable of making any girl feel like a goddess I believe. Letters to juliet is another movie of hers that encapsulates the ideal spring summer style. Girly but classic, flirty but simple. 

Phoebe Tonkin is the same but different. I think of her as the ultimate Realisation par muse, and I feel like it’s because of the effortlessness of her style. She knows the power of the jeans + cute top combo. I love how naturally she wears her outfots, which might seem like a stupid take, but it’s actually just a way to say it’s clear to me how she takes her time when shopping, choosing pieces that truly reflect her personality. 

One of my biggest struggles with having a more down to earth style is the fear of looking more like a hobo than a boho princess ahah, and no one walks that thin line better than Phoebe Tonkin, who also adds hints of romantic style in the mix, which i just love. Another master of that art is the one and only Isabel Lucas, who is one of my ultimate style inspirations both for her amazing collection of dresses and the ability to wear them without making it look… forced or cliché. And her graphic shirt collection is just to die for! If you’re like me and like to look like a woodland fairy adapting to modern life both in spring and on the daily basis generally, you should be taking style notes from Isabel. She is an environmentalist and super into holistic living, which, naturally, is a plus.  

Movies and media:

Just like heaven

Princess Diaries 2

Confissoes de Adolescente

Brief wondrous life of Oscar Wao

White Oleander

With the lovely weather outside, I sometimes find it difficult to sit down and watch a movie, because everything around tells me to go outside and live life like one instead. When, however, the evening sets and I have no plans to give me an excuse to wear a silk dress and boots around town, I look forward to making my day even longer, but watching movies that feel inherently bright and sunny. Amazing soundtracks, gentle visuals and upbeat stories: you can’t miss it with these romcoms. I don’t know why, but I haven’t been particularly atuned to my cult-ish side recently and haven’t been watching Films, but with me, that desire comes and goes in waves. I have, however, been reading a bit, and a book that I could simply not not recommend are White Oleander and the Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Both completely different, but mystical in ways that I cannot describe, and you’ll have to read them to find out. 

As for music, there’s only one album you need: soleil by francoise hardy

To wear

Outfit combos and general essentials I’m currently obsessed with are:

Slinky tops with relaxed pants, extra points if you manage to get a pastel colored top, (a pale yellow would be a DREAM) with a light  wash pair of jeans. 

Floral tunic dresses, think loveshackfancy… basic I knooww, but that’s kind of what we’re going for here. Jade Butterfield from the 2014 adaptation of Endless Love should be your muse these days, so embrace it! 

Your favorite assouline notebook you carry around. I mean… my favourite assouline notebook I carry around ahahah. Not only are they visually adorable, as they also are the perfect notebooks, having a heavy-ish paperweight and perfectly spaced lines, i know I sound dramatic but I’m extra picky with my notebooks, what can i do. 

Statement pants, jeans specifically. I just NEED an embroidered pair of jeans so bad, i feel like they’d be perfect with a basic white tank.

Just wearing tight shirts and tanks in general. The charm of the whole outfit being the lack of a need to wear a jacket!

Colorful Sets, i just love buying sets so much. They are sooo low effort but high reward! And I love the fact that they are the source of limitless combinations. Just LOVE THEM so much. 

[mostautisticangel]

Hiii

I'd love to hear about Halfway to Heroes!!! :3

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOLY SHIT OKAY STRAP YOURSELVES IN MOTHERFUCKERS (affectionate) im putting this behind a keep reading tag bc i know its gonna get long

SO. ITS A MAGICAL FANTASY ADVENTURE STORY WITH THE CLASSIC FANTASY TROPE OF THE WORLD BEING COMPRISED OF FOUR MAIN ELEMENTS. THE WORLD IS CALLED RHIMIAD. THERE ARE SIX KINGDOMS. okay hold on let me calm down.

Firstly: there are three deities. they have many names. The Holy Trinity, the Land, Sky and Sea, The Three Deities (very creative). Their true names are Rhimiad, the earth goddess, Rowan, the moon god, and Vyvienne, the sun goddess. I call them gods and goddesses but not like you're thinking. its a title that the Rhimiads (inhabitants of Rhimiad. is it confusing? i dont care!) give to them. They are the land, sun, and moon itself. The people just personified them

Rhimiad created the Rhimiads and named them after herself. at this point they're exactly like humans. She also created a bunch of other magical creatures. like ugly ass unicorns and pocket sized dragons and birds the size of cars.

Vyvienne was especially fond of them, and blessed a few of them with the power of the winds. The sky and winds were her domain. This fundamentally changed these Rhimiads, and now they had a connection to Vyvienne. they had the ability to "walk" on the wind, see through heavy storms, and summon a gale when necessary. They were called Wind Walkers. you dont have to capitalize it i just wanted to lol oh yeah they look different too. they have feathers instead of hair, bird-like eyes, and talons for hands. they can also make bird noises :3

Rowan liked that idea and he chose a few Rhimiads to bless with his powers. His domain was the cold night and the ocean. He blessed two tribes. One, he gave the power of the ocean. they could summon water from their fingertips, thrive underwater without the need for oxygen (and i mean without oxygen, not that they had gills) and could see no matter how dark it was. they had webbed hands, scales on their forearms, shins, and cheeks, fish-like eyes, fins for ears, and amphibian-esque tails. (can you tell these are my favorite) they were called water weilders. The other tribe, Rowan blessed with the power of the snow. They could see through snowstorms, stay warm in any temperature, had heightened senses of smell and taste, summon small flurries and icicles, and had an innate sense of direction. They were basically furries uhm part polar bear ig. they had animal noses, fur on their face, AND whiskers :3 and ice blue eyes. like big and cold blue. theyre called winter weilders.

Rhimiad decided to do what her kids did (did i mention the sun and moon were her kids? sorry yeah they are haha) and bless a few rhimiads. She gave them the power of the earth, they could summon flowers (specifically ONLY flowers) talk to animals, heal nature, you get the gist. they look a lil different, theyre also like furries. but any basic woodland animal. they'll have the tail, the ears/antlers, nose, whiskers, fur, all that. like a squirrel or a deer. also males and females both have antlers because fuck biology character design is cool. They can make whatever noises that animal makes too. theyre called wild watchers.

theyres still a bunch of Rhimiads with no magic, but thats fiine. they can still use the magical plants and whatever magical artifacts to brew potions and use wands or whatever. they just dont have any special connection to a deity.

anyways they made colonies and standard creachur behavior, there was a war between the water and winter weilders so now they hate each other and the winter weilders call themselves frost finders now. they dont care that the have the same god ig. (do not ask what the war was about. i definitely have an answer i just dont want to share it. for. reasons.)

now we're in modern day. there are six kingdoms in Rhimiad currently. each kingdom was founded by a certain tribe, and that population dominates each kingdom, but anyone can live anywhere. mostly. you'll see. Let me explain them each in excruciating detail.

Pyovere - The kingdom of wind, sky, sun, and storms. The kingdom itself is a series of floating islands (!!) shaped like rings, all encasing each other. The closer you get to the center, the more extravagant it is, and in the center is the Pyoverian Palace, the pinnacle of opulence and elegance in all of Rhimiad. The furthest islands are called the Outskirts, and are basically like the slums. the wind walkers live here if you couldn't tell. i based it on pre-revolution era france. will there be a revolution? i have nooooooo idea ;)

Floraison - The kingdom of earth, nature, and creatures and critters. Its a sprawling collection of quiet villages and massive cities. by far the largest kingdom. at the center, perched on the side of an active volcano, is the Pyoverian Palace. this one is home to wild watchers. i picked and choosed elements from all kinds of middle eastern/south asian cultures but this one is mostly based off india

Aquatique - for the water weilders. and only the water weilders. not even non-magic rhimiads. this kingdom is underwater and nobody knows where to find it. trade is conducted via soldiers carrying crates of supplies deep underwater, and making sure nobody follows. its not like anyone could if they wanted to. The ruler still attends diplomatic meetings. but nobody else leaves the kingdom. very little is known about it. i didnt base this one off any particular culture, i just made shit up :P

Krybrot - the kingdom of snow, jewels, and comfort. by far the richest kingdom. Its up in the mountains, covered in snow year-round. they have a direct agreement with Floraison for the exchange of ores for food. they have the Krybrot Castle,, where the royalty lives year-round, and the Crystal Palace, a palace made of ice for the yearly blue moon ball. its an event to praise Rowan. The royal family emerges, putting on a display for the public before hiding away in the castle again.

Quillion - the kingdom where all the non- water weilders went after the water weilding tribe decided to move into the ocean. havent done much work on this one

Erromar - another kingdom for primarily non-magic rhimiads. founded by an insane wizard like 300 years ago. i dont know. just go with it.

PHEW WORLDBUILDING DONE. NOW TIME FOR THE PLOT AND CHARACTERS. YOU THOUGHT WE WERE DONE??? WE'RE JUST GETTING STARTED

Main cast:

Yvette Lancaster - he/him, 18, prince of Pyovere, spoiled rich kid whos scared of everything and wouldn't hurt a fly. his father made a deal with the goddess Vyvienne so he has a special type of magic. he has sun powers. not fire. sun. he glows and can summon light and also look directly at the sun. the coolest power imo. he has a halo but not like a ring halo like those gold disk ones you see in medieval paintings. it glows too. i love it. he's my baby. he's a rich snobby bastard. he can't lift up a sword. he's everything. he's also gonna be king even though he does NOT want that, he wants his twin sister to rule instead. she's the older one. she just doesnt have magic. but their dad gave up his life to vyvienne and their mom has a favorite. so.

Yvonne Lancaster - she/her, 18, non-magic, princess of Pyovere, possibly the most powerful sorceress in Rhimiad's history and she knows it. complete and utter asshole. acts like shes better than everyone. like she deserves the goddess' blessing. she deserves the throne more than her pathetic twat of a brother. she was taught magic by one of the only two stars in the sky (even if she didnt know it)(i forgot to mention the stars. theyre not deities. theyre just kinda there. but yeah theres only two of them. pim and pix. i hate them. theyre so silly.) she hates everyone except one person.

Lynne Schire - she/her, 18, wind walker, the one person yvonne doesnt hate. she moved ffrom the outskirts to the palace at a young age. rather, she ran away from the outskirts, spent two years wasting what little money she had on gambling and alcohol, ran away from people she owed money to and ended up at the palace gates, pleading to the guard to be let in. yvonne happened to be outside at the time and let her in. they became best friends. theyre also in love. but they dont know it yet. lynne is the only one who can tolerate yvonne's bullshit. she doesnt fix it tho. kinda fucked up if you ask me

Palliana-Roe "Roe" Beyberry - she/her, 11, water weilder AND frost finder (rowan liked her personally so he gave her both traits. she hides her water weilder features and pretends to be a frost finder) she joins the gang after plot things happen and they end up in krybrot, looking for a guide to take them to Floraison. She's the princess of Krybrot, but she ran away when she was 8 cause her family sucked and kind of hated her. nobody has come looking for her. she's five foot zero and wields a giant axe. she doesnt take bullshit from anyone. classic character archetype of small child who is also a criminal. girlboss.

Seyuna Hazure - she/they, 28, water weilder, pirate mom. its the best way to describe them. they are loud and obnoxious and the captain of the most respected fleet in all of Quillion, the twilight trinity. The flagship is the SIlver Sinner, Seyuna's pride and joy. there are also a bunch of other characters in her crew but theyre not as important. still love them tho. she adopts Roe even tho roe doesnt want this (she does). they are so silly. they also are very skilled in combat and have excellent connections. dont ask how they got involved with the gang. its complicated.

Kaspian - he/it, 19, non magic. he's the son of the big bad guy. i will expplain that bit later. anyways he may or may not be my self-insert and he is the general of the bad guy army and he's very cool and swag. just kidding that was a lie he's a fucking loser. he can hold a sword and say inspiring things to his troops but cant do shit in a fight. but everyone believes he's the pinnacle of courage and bravery. an illusion he struggles to uphold. anyways he falls in love with yvette because i said so. also he becomes good at some point. he may or may not be killed off im still deciding.

so the big bad. right. i forgot to mention this but each of the deities have a favorite Rhimiad. vyvienne chose yvette, rowan chose palliana-roe, and rhimiad chose the big bad. theyre called the champions. big bad only goes by "Rhimiad's Champion" or "Rhimiad's Heir." very normal person behavior. each of these champions can talk to the deity DIRECTLY. although we dont know that because yvette doesnt talk about it and roe isnt sharing the fact that she's the champion. but Rhimiad's Champion talks about it. he said that Rhimiad told him that the other deities are fake and that rhimiad is the true one. Rhimiad said to wipe out the world, leaving only the non-magic people and wild watchers. he has been succesful thus far. people believe him, because who are they to refute the will of a goddess.

the kicker? he's fucking right. Rhimiad did tell him to do this shit. partially. Rhimiad's true orders were to wipe out the entire world and then kill her. her Champion thought this would scare people so he pretended she meant to keep non-magic people and wild watchers.

You see, Rhimiad is nothing like what the people think she is. oh no no no no. Rhimiad is located in the Void, a place abandoned by space or time. completley dark. She gave birth to her children, the sun and moon. she screated the rhimiads to live on her. she was happy, all alone.

now you might be thinking "cool. why does she want to die." because sshe wants to be free from her prison. the Void is a prison. she used to live in the Universe, with the countless other deities who encompassed their own worlds. But she is a cruel and heartless creature. She grew jealous of another goddess, Nmoroca, and slaughtered her entire population. Nmoroca is now a pitiful barren wasteland. the other deities banished her to the void, and sent two stars to watch her. (thats pim and pix btw) she is allowed to do whatever she wants in the Void, since she is trapped.

however, the Void is not the real world. if you die in the Void, it means nothing. You simply......leave the Void. You are welcomed to the Universe. all Rhimiads from countless generations ago who have died know this truth. they now live on many of the other deities, even Nmoroca, who is slowly being rebuilt.

Rhimiad wants to return. however, she it immortal, so she needs to be killed. She cant leave her rhimiads behind, though, so she ordered her champion to slaughter them all first.

the stars dont know this, so they dont try to stop her.

the sun and moon dont know this, so they get mad at her champion for saying such obvious lies.

OKAY I THINK THATS EVERYTHING?????? I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE REST OF THE DEITIES IN THE UNIVERSE IF YOU WANT. PLEASE TELL ME YOUR FAV CHARACTERS AND/OR KINGDOMS. ILSY THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME INFODUMP. I WILL HAVE ART SOMEDAY

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

The Boy in the Forest | TWST x Male Reader

Whoo! Chapter 1! This took forever to decide to post! Hope you enjoy! This is also posted on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

Description: The Second Star is Born

Chapter 1: The Boy in the Forest {You are here}

Chapter 2: Flowers bloom beautifully in blood

Chapter 3: Magic can't be dangerous..Can it? | TBR

Chapter 4: With you, I'll Never Fail to Smile| TBR

Chapter 5: Acceptance in this World can't be Found | TBR

Chapter 6: My Love for You will Never Falter | TBR

Chapter 7: Here I am Once More| TBR

OC FACE CLAIMS (The following pictures aren't mine):

Mors Sunnin

Anala Sunnin

When most here about the second star to the right, they always think of a magical land full of wonder and mystery. Of fairies, and joyous feelings. This star wasn’t only in the sky, it was also a boy. 

A boy created by the gods of old and new. Gods of earth, sea and sky. He was an immortal being of many forms, as well as great power to move mountains and seas. The main purpose for his creation, however, to guide those to their endings, no matter the cost. This boy’s name was Y/n. 

His creation was one of bright, warm light and love. However, that love would only be given to those he would grow close too and not himself. It would be a future struggle later in his life. Once the world was ready for his birth, Zeus cleared the clouds as Artemis and Hera gently brought the child into a woodland clearing. 

Y/n had no parents, well, none that were present that is. The gods and goddesses in the sky never made themselves present to the boy, as they thought it would be too much for him. Only when Y/n had encountered the first person that needed to be guided would he know of his roots to godhood. 

Y/n was created to look like a 5-year-old, and he stayed in that clearing for a hundred years. Surrounded by wildlife, Y/n made friends with the birds and the deer. He found companions in even the tiniest of creatures. The deer would bring him food, and the bears would fish with him. He only ever wore a white tunic with a similar fabric pants. 

They were often covered in grass stains and mud, since the boy was very playful in an environment full of nature. He was considered the king of the forest, though that title was only known amongst the critters.

 He was even looked after by the strong dragons from afar. Most were curious why this boy was here, and what his purpose was. 

Many a mythical creature took interest in the child, from dragons to the first of the fairy generations. They would trade for the curious boy’s attention and spend any and all time with him. 

Y/n soon had dragon and fae parents looking after him for those hundred years before he was discovered by humanity. 

Y/n never felt a need to eat, but the ones he called parents fed him fruits the most. Meat was a rare cuisine Y/n would consume due to his critter friends, but he would later learn otherwise. The boy often found himself eating flowers, like roses. Just picked roses, and even if they didn't taste like anything, it was something he loved. He was recommended the roses by the small bunnies. 

As the time went on, Y/n saw the world around him change. He saw the seasons fade, bloom and fade once more. He saw the creatures he loved grow old, have their family, and watch that family grow old. 

This cycle was something he became familiar with. It was a cycle Y/n grew to hate, but appreciated the brining of new life and new friends that came along. Y/n had asked the dragons and fae folk that he had loved why this happened. 

Many knew the answer quite well, and it was those who had brought the seasons along for generations. One of the fae spoke.

“Y/n, sweetie, this cycle happens to bring new changes to the world.”

Y/n stared back at the fairy dressed in petals. 

“I don’t want things to change! I want them the way they are!”

The fairy understood Y/n’s upset feelings. She had guided the small boy to a bed of baby flowers. Y/n was in shock at how pretty it was in this secluded area. Y/n knelt down as the small fairy fluttered to show him the little buds. 

“You see Y/n, if change didn’t happen then these beautiful roses would be stuck in these rosebuds. Cursed to never bloom and share their beauty with the world. It’s the very same with all the creatures that surround you. Change doesn’t stop there, for there is change in you too It is not something that can be stopped, but something to embrace.”

Y/n nodded, sort of understanding what his fairy friend meant. However, he still didn’t quite like change and leaving things behind, only with his memory to keep everything alive. Even though his physic didn't change, his mind did. 

The 100th year of being in that forest had dawned and ended, and Y/n was left in the snow all on his own. No one to go too other than the trees that were bare. Winter was a very lonely, since all creatures alike hibernated. Y/n tried it himself, but it was a lifestyle he could not sustain. 

Y/n laid in the cold snow under a tree where he met all the friends of his past, the snow molding his body shape. He dozed off watching the clear blue sky. A few short minutes after, the h/c boy woke up to the soft shaking of his arm.

Y/n jumped up in panic and started quickly shifting into different fighting poses. His e/c eyes landed on a boy who was as tall as Y/n. This boy was seemingly the same age as Y/n, well physically looking they looked the same age. The boy giggled, seeing Y/n’s confused face. The boy spoke up. 

“Why are you sitting out in the snow? You’ll get sick!”

Y/n looked very confused. He didn’t understand what this creature meant.  Y/n looked at the boy. 

“No I won’t. And who are you to say? You’re out here too, so you’ll get sick.”

The boy giggled softly. This confused Y/n. He didn’t understand anything from this creature that stood in front of him. Y/n looked down to see this creature walking on two legs; it made him quite curious. None of the animals or creatures he was around ever walked on two legs; none of them looked like Y/n did. 

“What are you?”

The boy looked confused. What did this h/c boy mean? 

“Don’t you mean ‘Who are you’?”

Y/n shook his head, confusing the creature in front of him.

“No, I mean what are you.”

“I’m a person!”

Y/n seemed confused. He heard of creatures that looked like him, but it was mostly the fairies the looked like him. They were just smaller than he was. The dragons had spoke of things called humans, and only ever described them to look like Y/n. That was only once or twice, and one of those times was when Y/n got confused for one. 

“What is a person?”

The boy giggled again, finding this behavior cute and quite funny. How could this boy in front of him not know what a person was?

“It’s what I am, and you’re one too.”

Y/n was left confused again. He was unsure of what to say, but he didn’t need to say anything. The boy with black hair did all the talking. 

“My name is Mors! Mors Sunnin! What's yours?”

“Y/n.”

Mors looked confused again. However, a gust of wind interrupted the two with a bitter cold following it. Mors grabbed Y/n with his gloved one, and led him to a wooden house near the forest they exited from. Inside was a seating area with a few books scattered around, a fireplace with a bright blazing fire radiating its heat through the halls, and a small kitchen where a woman with fire red hair stood. 

“Are you back so soon, Mors? I surely thought you would have spent more time outside.”

The woman turned around with bright emerald eyes staring into e/c ones. The woman’s face softened into a smile as she looked at her son. 

“Oh Mors, who is this cutie?”

The woman knelt down to the level of the two boys. Mors beamed with happiness as he still held Y/n’s s/c hand. 

“This is my new friend! His name is Y/n! Y/n, this is my mom!”

Y/n was confused again, and it visibly showed. Mors mom brought her hand to gently ruffled his h/c hair. 

“My name is Anala. It's wonderful to meet you, sweetie.”

Y/n nodded as if sharing the same feelings. All his thoughts were a flurry of confusion and curiosity. Mors dragged Y/n all around the small cottage, showing all of his favorite things and the hiding places that Mors found. 

Mors usually used these hiding places as a safe place whenever he was home alone or when something scary happened. Mors also taught so many things to Y/n that he didn't understand. Mors explained what he could about civilization and what humans were. 

However, since this information was coming from a child, it was hard to tell what was truth and what was just made up nonsense. About a week later, Y/n had met Mors father. It was an odd meeting to say the least.

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[coffeestripes]

So, about Yautja gods and deities...

My motivation for drawing passed away but i want to keep posting stuff

Okay everybody hear me out, no idea where this info came from BUT the Yautja spanish wiki has some curious stuff about their deities and gods (Yep, of course Cetanu and Paya are here) and i just wanted to share this. Is weird because far as i've seen no other wiki has this information besides the Catalan one. Neither of those two has citations so is a pure mystery the sources, enjoy~

The thing i wanted to do is just try to translate the descriptions. If someone wants to do fixes then dm me the clean text and the credits would be under the title!

Cetanu: The supreme deity of their pantheon, described as the black warrior who wins all battles, Death. The ambition of every honorable yautja is to have a life that imitates the nature of this deity and brings them closer to him. It does not have a defined form and for a yautja in combat it can present itself as a brother, a prey, a human or an accident to reach its side. He has a dual nature: “The benevolent”, dressed in black armor with ornaments and golden eyes, rewards the fallen with honor by taking them to the other world; the other is “The Destroyer”, a deformed yautja with four arms and six fangs who takes the souls of the fallen in disgrace to devour and torture them for eternity. The use of camouflage, visors and long-distance weapons has a religious meaning for the yautjas since it is a way of getting closer to Cetanu, who sees everything, kills without being seen and without touching. Every yautja upon reaching adulthood swears to overcome the first murderer despite the fact that they are all aware that they are destined to fail. He is represented with a six-pointed star and is the protector of the enforcers (I think, the wiki said “árbitros”, meaning referees)

Lil-ka: Goddess of life, motherhood and revenge. She is also called Paa-ya (Well, Paya), and is the ruler of the gods and with a dual nature just like Cetanu her partner. As Mother Lil-ka, the benevolent aspect of her, she possesses a motherly and beautiful appearance, dressed in heavy and graceful robes; As Lil-ka the Avenger, she wears armor and pursues those who break the laws, dragging them down for punishment. Her symbol is a circle.

Dto-hult'ah (Forest/jungle/woodland + spotter/lookout): The god of agriculture, earth, and quieter emotions such as patience, devotion, and contentment, is also the patron of the visual arts, such as carving and painting. Dto-hult'ah appears as a Yautja dressed in a kind of kilt, carrying a backpack and with his arms wrapped in climbing plants. He is Kayana's mate and father of the Horde. His symbol is the leaf of a vine.

Kayana: The goddess of war, fire, passionate emotions such as anger, love and obsession and also the patroness of dance and music. She only wears a loincloth and a small breastplate, but many times she appears naked, always wrapped in fire. She’s the mother of the Horde and the daughter of Cetanu and Lil-ka. Her symbol is a flame.

Mara'khen: God of storms and artisans. The first son of Kayana and Dto-hult'ah and who has the least demonic nature. He has four arms with a different weapon or tool on each. His symbol is a sword.

Guan Nrak'ytara (Night / Guardian): Goddess of dreams, air, change and sudden inspiration. She was a yautja who learned the secrets of fire, medicine, and weapons and taught them to his comrades in primitive times after overcoming three tasks given by the gods, thus achieving godhood as well. She appears as a winged Yautja dressed in a loose-fitting robe and attached to a demon. Her symbol is the breeze.

Ju'dha-sain'ja (Water / warrior): God of water, deluge and weather. He appears as a Yautja dressed in a robe of shining scales. He has long, flowing fins growing from his back and webbed fingers. The appendages on his head are always dripping and his symbol is a wave.

Mab'ii'tang: Hero punished by the gods with immortality for demanding what was not his, since the greatest honor and glory of the yautjas is to die fighting to impress Cetanu and gain a place of honor in the afterlife, being immortal is condemned to never receive his prize nor will his soul rest.

The Horde: Kayana's thousands of demon children. The nigthmares. They are often at the service of Cetanu and Lil-ka to bring justice to those who have broken the laws. They occasionally break free to cause trouble. They often spy for Kayana. Many wander the physical world telling stories and interfering mortals affairs