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#Maiden of the Mist
oneistoinfinity · 4 months
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Mapled Mei Day 7-9: Niagara
Mei visits #niagarafalls and the surrounding sites in this travel blog #skylontower #cliftonhill
Konnichassu!! I am on a roll as I need to get a move on before I make some December updates and focus on Interscape… its been a long time! I also like to keep things positive even if in other parts of the globe, everything is going so wrong. While I don’t post about it, know you are not alone. Anyway, back to the post. This one is a combination of days because this is the Niagara leg of my trip.…
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apple-salad · 5 months
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Faltetto/Farutetto JSK in the glorious mist colourway, and bustle.
I wore this quickly after receiving the JSK since I wanted to wear it and take photos right away!
I think this coord isn't really at its best though, so I will probably re-wear components from it sometime soon.
Here is my bustle layer post for those curious.
JSK (Faltetto): Mary Magdalene Blouse: Krad Lanrete Hair combs, underskirt: Victorian Maiden Shoes: Molly Polly (Taobao brand) Tights: offbrand Necklace: offbrand, though I think it might be handmade from a Taobao shop Rose corsage brooch: Juliette et Justine
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liroyalty · 1 month
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"Problem? No, I have fun actually. It's called having a hobby. Should try it instead of sucking your own dick all the time."
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"OKAY, I THINK THAT'S ENOUGH FOR TODAY."
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The King of the Ants: Mythological Essays, Zbigniew Herbert//Swan Maiden, from Among Gnomes and Trolls No. 2 by John Bauer (1908)
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dcbinges · 5 months
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Justice League International #12 (1988) by Keith Giffen, J.M. DeMatteis & Kevin Maguire
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death-rebirth-senshi · 11 months
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"Adula is hard on an int build" Girl just use rock sling...it's already one of the better spells for fighting dragons
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scattered-irises · 2 years
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Tale III: The Prince in the Chest
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Illustration by me​
Maybe don’t hunt maidens for sport as your birthday celebration. Maybe go to Chuck E. Cheese’s. 
Rating: Mature  
Word Count: 4193
Characters: Black Mist, Rei Shingetsu, Mr. Heartland, Don Thousand, Vector
Relationships: Black Mist/Rei Shingetsu kinda
Warnings: Strangulation, death
Summary: A retelling of both The Princess in the Chest and The Black Princess. A prince cursed to die requests for his father to send a guard to protect his corpse every night. Each morning, the guard is discovered dead, his neck mangled by blackened hands.
Once upon a time, a king wished for a child. 
 Nightly, he prayed for a child black as night, with eyes colored like gold and lips as purple as a fresh bruise. The ghastly wish suited the king’s reputation as a black-hearted warlord, for no woman dared approach him. Any human he laid with shriveled away like wilted flowers, his touch poison to all. 
 After nights of praying, the heavens, so fearful of invoking his wrath, finally granted his wish. Spinning together the darkest threads of night and picking two of the brightest stars in the sky, a child was woven by the hands of fallen angels. Squeezing the juices of the cursed wild pansy, the child’s lips were colored the ghastly purple that the king had requested. 
 Sending the youngest of the fallen angels to deliver the child, the angel quickly put the child in a bassinet and knocked on the castle gates. Before a guard could discover them, they returned to the darkest depths of the sky. 
 Once the child was discovered by the morning guards, the three young men swore that they heard the wind whisper to them a single word. 
  Mist. 
 Thus, that became the name of the child. 
 ♛
 Through the woods came the sounds of hoofbeats and a woman screaming. The young village maiden tore through the trees, the horses and hounds only paces behind. The crown of flowers her mother had gifted her had been long lost to the winds. The pure-white dress she wore had been muddied into a dark black. On bare feet she ran, her feet bloodied and scratched from the various detritus that littered the forest paths. 
 From behind, she heard the young prince’s laughter and his bevvy of brigands, intent on chasing her down like prey. 
 Once a year, on the prince’s birthday, a barbaric hunt was enacted, in which the fairest maiden in the land was chosen to be the object of the hunt. Although many fair and brave-hearted maidens had valiantly volunteered themselves, none had ever returned. 
 The maiden found herself in a clearing in the woods, no path except for the one she had run from remaining. Her breath stuck in her throat as the black destrier leapt into the clearing, carrying the Black Prince. He smiled, revealing an array of white teeth, so unlike his ink-colored skin. Alighting from his steed, he gave the maiden a mocking bow and readied his crossbow. 
 From behind, his friends alighted as well, chuckling as their eyes ran over the maiden’s disheveled appearance. 
 “A bit too blue and scrawny for my tastes, wouldn’t you agree?” drawled the prince as he picks out a bolt. 
 He blew on the tip and then loaded it into the bow. 
 “I prefer maidens with a bit more meat on their thighs and fiery-orange hair. I’ll have to ask for the eyes of the Maiden Scout upon my return,” he muttered. 
 “Please, my lord, have mercy!” sobbed the maiden. She fell upon her knees, lathering the prince’s boot with kisses. 
 Mist sneered and aimed the crossbow at her head. He stifled a yawn. 
 “Don’t waste your breath. Every year it’s the same set of pleas and crying.”
 He chuckled and tapped the maiden’s head with his bow. He lowered his voice, as if they were intimate lovers. 
 “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to have your mouth stuffed with an apple when we serve you at the table,” he drawled. 
 Cackling, he released the bolt into the maiden’s head. It sunk through her blue hair and through her skull with a sickening crunch. Not a single cry escaped from the young woman as the light faded from her eyes, her mouth open in a small “O.” The prince let out a triumphant cackle as she fell before him. His men laughed in tandem with him until the maiden twitched. With one hand, the maiden grabbed the bow and pulled it away from her. When she looked up at the prince, her eyes flashed with a crimson light. A breeze blew across the clearing, carrying with it the smell of flowers. 
 Before the hunting party, the maiden’s stained robes lengthened into a magnificent robe and flowers began to sprout from her hair. Wings like panes of stained glass sprouted from her back and claws began to grow from the maiden’s hands. 
 “For sixteen years this barbaric tradition has happened in my woods without my intervention,” boomed a magnificent voice. “Yet this year will be the last. Sixteen innocent maidens have spilled their blood into my streams and trees, their spirits eternally trapped on this earth. What say you to this crime?” 
 The Black Prince steadied his grip on his crossbow while the members of his hunting party quivered in fear. He gazed at the forest spirit with unflinching eyes. 
 “M-my lord, that is the great forest guardian Merag. It would not do to anger her,” cautioned a hunter.
 “Quiet,” spat Mist. He turned back to the imposing forest guardian. “I say that it is destiny. The weak exist to serve the strong.”
 Merag narrowed her eyes. She pointed an accusatory finger at the prince. 
 “You have long lost your human heart and have thus reduced yourself to no more than a monster. May this curse I bring seal you away for the rest of your days, broken only when a fool who sees the spark within the black depths of your soul deigns to stay with you for three nights and three days,” invoked the forest spirit. 
 Her voice echoed across the forest, her vow heard by all the fauna and flora in the kingdom. The wind stirred around the hunting party. Slowly, the Black Prince’s men could feel fur growing through their leather armor. They wailed in pain as their bones began to bend and crack, forcing them onto their knees. Their mouths were soon filled with teeth and their tongues lengthened and lolled out of their newly-formed jaws. Their screams soon turned into pained howls as the men-turned-wolves fled from the forest guardian. 
 Far, far away the wolves ran, filling the rest of their miserable days in distant lands. In various tales they have wandered, none able to achieve happiness. 
 Meanwhile, the Black Prince laughed at the forest guardian. 
 “Punish my men? Why, you’ve only revealed their true forms. Dogs to be kicked, the lot of them,” he sneered. 
 “Look at your hands,”  commanded Merag. 
 The prince looked at his hands to find a series of white markings crawling up them. They twisted and turned like snakes, spreading their stiffening sensations across his body. 
 “Come morning, you will be nothing more than a corpse. Go and tell your demon father to build a coffin and place you in the royal cathedral,” instructed the forest guardian. “May the holy spirits within cleanse your soul.” 
 “And if I don’t?” retorted the prince. 
 “Then you will die forgotten by all.” 
 Without another word, Merag disappeared, leaving behind the smell of fresh blossoms. With the forest guardian’s words echoing in his mind, the Black Prince reluctantly hurried home, the markings across his body continuing to spread. 
 When his father, King Don, heard of the curse, he twisted his lips in distaste. 
 “Have the wooden coffin built and the cathedral altar. We will prove to this guardian that she is a fool.” 
 As the sun set, Mist began to feel his vision fade and his body stiffen. Before he could protest, he was placed into his coffin, the lid gently closed. In the darkness, his eyes eventually close and he lets out one final breath before succumbing to the forest guardian’s curse. 
 Angered by the curse placed upon his beloved son, King Don immediately set out to break the guardian’s curse. Placing a young squire in the confines of the cathedral, he sealed the doors shut and waited for three days and three nights. 
 When the doors were opened once again, a foul stench filled the air. By the attendants’ feet were the remains of the young squire, long-rotted and worm-eaten. Checking upon the Black Prince’s coffin, the dead prince’s body remained pristine, his dark skin drinking in the sunlight that was pouring onto him. 
 King Don twisted his lips. 
 “Another one, then,” he decided. 
 By the end of the week, seven men had perished, their mangled corpses found by the cathedral doors each morning. News of the mysterious men’s deaths spread far and wide, dissuading any young men from standing guard. 
 “A bag of gold for the guard then!” proposed the angered king. 
 His promise of treasures and riches piled on as the corpses continued to pile up at the cathedral when at last, at his wits’ end, the king declared, 
 “My crown for the one who can restore my son to life!” 
 And yet, no matter how many fools entranced by the promise of a crown came, an equal number of fools perished within the walls of the cathedral with mangled necks and blackened skin.
 Until one day, a young shepherd by the name of Shingetsu arrived. 
 King Don scoffed upon seeing the young man, his tanned skin and sunny freckles the mark of his poverty. Yet no men had volunteered to attend to his son’s pristine corpse in days. On the first night, the king served Shingetsu a servant’s meal of apples and porridge, not wishing to waste food on a man that would be found dead the very next morning. 
 Silently, the shepherd accepted his meal and walked into the cathedral alone. The doors closed behind him and the shepherd sat in wait.  
 ♛
 Shingetsu wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the chilly night air creeping through the cracks of the walls. There was nothing left for him to return to, his entire flock devoured by a pack of wolves. He had heard of great riches awaiting him at the capitol, yet had found only poverty and despair. Not even the lowliest of tanners had accepted him as an apprentice so he had spent his days as a beggar. 
 When news of the king’s son had reached him, Shingetsu had secretly rejoiced among his fellow subjects. Yet as the king’s promises of riches increased, more and more of Shingetsu’s friends had been led away, never to return. With nothing left in his purse, his companions all devoured by the ghastly cathedral and the Black Prince’s spirit, and an empty stomach, Shingetsu had come to the castle gates expecting to be struck on sight. 
 Yet he is here within the confines of the cathedral with nothing but the corpses of past sentries and the Black Prince to accompany him. He swallows hard. 
 “Hide in the pulpit, young one,” whispers a voice. 
 Shingetsu stiffens. 
 “Who…?”
 “A friend,” promises the voice. “Hurry, there isn’t much time before the cursed prince awakens.” 
 “Why should I listen to you?” hisses Shingetsu. 
 “Listen to me if you value your life, unlike these fools who were deafened by greed and valor,” muttered the voice. “Or are you a fool as well?” 
 Before Shingetsu, a fly buzzes. Before he can raise his hands to crush it, he sees the outline of a man’s head on the fly. 
 “Hurry,” buzzes the fly. “Before the third chime.” 
 With nothing to lose, Shingetsu rushes to the pulpit and hides underneath it. He stares down at his hands, wondering if he had imagined the fly with the man’s head. As the clocktower strikes the first chime, he hears a creaking sound. His heart skips a beat. 
 Peeking out of the pulpit at the second chime, his heart nearly lurches to his throat when the Black Prince’s coffin opens. On the third chime, a black figure crawls out of the coffin and stumbles down the stairs, its head swiveling back and forth. 
 “Where is the sentry for tonight?” calls the black shadow. 
 “Keep your lips sealed if you value your life,” hisses the fly’s voice. 
 Shingetsu places his hands over his lips to prevent himself from crying out. 
 “TRAITOR!” screeches the Black Prince’s corpse as he lurches through the aisles. “WHERE IS THE SENTRY?!” 
 After a few moments, Shingetsu bites his lips and stifles a sigh. 
 “Come out, come out, dear sentry…,” drawls the shadow. “If not, you will suffer a most gruesome death. My hands around your neck, twisting, twisting it like I would a goose’s…” 
 The prince lets out a cackle that chills Shingetsu to the bones. 
 “If you can remain silent until the fourth bell, he will return to his coffin and you will be able to see the dawn,” promises the fly. “If not…” 
 Shingetsu swallows hard and presses his hand harder against his mouth. He nods in understanding. 
 When the prince hears the shadow approaching the pulpit, he braces himself to be discovered. An eternity passes before he hears the footsteps recede. Sniffing fills the air. 
 “Oh, I know you’re there,” calls the prince. “You smell fresh, for one.” 
 A low chuckle follows. 
 “I’ll find you. Just you wait.” 
 The poor shepherd squeezes his eyes shut and curls into a ball. After what feels like an eternity, his muscles shriek in protest and he stretches out. The pulpit creaks under his touch. Immediately, he can hear running footsteps and stifles a scream as the feet of the Black Prince come into view before him. 
 “Ah, there you are…hiding just like a rat,” chuckles the prince. “Come out, now. The game is over.”
 Shaking, Shingetsu bites his hands just as the four o'clock bell chimes. 
 The prince stiffens and then slowly turns away from Shingetsu. 
 “A wager, then. If you can survive for three days and three nights, I promise you my hand in marriage.”
 His footsteps recede and soon after, the sound of the coffin lid shutting makes Shingetsu release his grip from his mouth. He heaves a sigh of relief and soon falls into a deep sleep. 
 ♛
 “H-he’s alive!” calls the morning guard’s voice.
 Shingetsu stirs awake as a pair of strong hands escort him out of the cathedral. He is rushed into the castle and into the king’s breakfast room, where he is met by the raised eyebrows of the king. 
 “Well. Isn’t this something?” murmurs the king. “Fetch him his meal.” 
 In a blink of an eye, a breakfast of eggs, bread, ham, freshly picked fruit and vegetables is laid before the astonished shepherd. He eats alongside the king, the sounds of their silverware scraping against their plates the only conversation. Quickly, Shingetsu eats all that he can and puts the rest in his pockets. The king sneers. 
 “I don’t know what trickery you performed last night, but I doubt that I will see you tomorrow,” says the king. 
 Shingetsu stares down at his reflection in his golden plate.
 A part of him wanted to prove the king wrong. Another part of him wished for night to arrive faster. 
 ♛
 He opens the coffin to find the Black Prince’s pristine corpse. Although he has been dead for more than three months, not a single part of the prince’s body has decayed. The forest guardian’s marks have covered his body entirely, making his skin seem as if it had been painted upon. Hesitantly, Shingetsu places a hand on the prince’s skin while his other hand holds a dagger. Cold. There was no doubt that the wicked prince was dead. 
 “Hurry, hurry, with the corpses this time, end of the line,” urges the fly’s voice. 
 Shingetsu shuts the coffin lid and hurries down into the crypts. A long line of decaying corpses line the walls, their stench nearly making the shepherd faint. 
 “I know, it isn’t pleasant, but it’s better than having your neck twisted!” whispers the fly. 
 As the first chime rings, Shingetsu gulps in a deep breath and runs to the end of the crypt. He tries not to look at the corpses, knowing all too well that some would have familiar faces. Crawling next to the most recent corpse, Shingetsu closes his eyes and crosses his arms together. 
 “Excellent,” murmurs the fly just as the third chime strikes.
 “Would you be quiet?!” hisses Shingetsu. “You’re such a bother.”
 The fly buzzes, as if it was laughing. 
 “That was why I was cursed in the first place.” 
 “Suitable that you gained the form of a fly. Bastards never stop buzzing,” mutters Shingetsu. 
 Above the two, they hear footsteps. They were slow at first, as if the walker was growing accustomed to the action. Then the plodding footsteps turned into running. 
 “NOT HERE?!” howls the Black Prince from above. 
 It took all of Shingetsu’s self-control to not move his hands to his mouth. 
 Soon, the footsteps drew closer until Shingetsu and the fly could hear them descending the crypt’s frigid stairs. The prince’s sniffing fills the air. 
 “There you are…,” he drawls. “Clever boy, hiding among all of these fools. But ah, ah, I have a solution for that. I will squeeze all of these toes and the warm one will be yours!” 
 Shingetsu forces himself to remain still as the prince begins his test, languidly making his way down the aisles of the dead. The young man didn’t count the number of corpses before him, but he hopes that they will buy him enough time. In the darkness, he keeps his eyes closed, ears strained for the prince’s footsteps. 
 A sheen of sweat has covered Shingetsu’s face by the time the prince arrives at the corpse beside him. 
 “Not this one either…,” mutters the prince. 
 Shingetsu stifles a cry as he feels the prince’s finger hover over his toes. 
 “Then this must be yours, clever sentry,” declares the prince. “But I will always find you. We princes are of a sensitive sort.” 
 The prince’s frigid touch brushes against Shingetsu’s toes as the clock chimes four times. A hiss of annoyance escapes from the prince as he is forced to return to his coffin. 
 “One more night,” hisses the corpse as he pulls away. “And then you will be mine.” 
 The shepherd doesn’t relax until he hears the sound of the coffin slamming above him. Even then, he waits for a few more moments until he detangles himself from the corpses to make his way towards the cathedral doors. 
 “Don’t celebrate yet. The third night will be the hardest,” whispers the fly. 
 With the fly’s vow echoing in his mind, Shingetsu falls asleep. 
 When he awakens to the same astonished guard, Shingetsu greets him with a weak wave. Beside him is the king, who gazes down at him with a frown. 
 “You are lucky, that is all,” mutters King Don as he turns away. “Serve him his breakfast and give him clothes fit for a guest of the king.” 
 Happily clothed and fed, Shingetsu returns to the cathedral at sunset in high spirits. When the doors close behind him and the night guards lock the doors, Shingetsu walks through the aisles in search of his now-familiar friend. Soon, the fly buzzes by his ear. 
 “Underneath the altar tonight. Once the prince comes out, you must crawl into his coffin and remain there until morning,” instructs the fly. 
 A chill creeps up Shingetsu’s spine. 
 “Surely, there must be another way,” he protests. 
 “There isn’t. Please, you must trust me,” urges the fly. 
 Sighing, Shingetsu swallows the last bit of wine that he had saved from the night’s dinner. Then he crawls beneath the coffin’s altar and waits. 
 The chiming of the three o’clock bell stirs him awake. The coffin above him creaks open and the prince languidly walks out of his prison. Once again, he sniffs the air. 
 “You’re close, aren’t you?” calls the prince. 
 Shingetsu rapidly blinks the sleep from his eyes and prepares himself to run. In the silence that follows, he grips the dagger by his belt. The prince chuckles. 
 “Very well. I will play your game.” 
 Much to Shingetsu’s relief, the prince walks down the steps and towards the pulpit. 
 “Now! Now!” urges the fly. 
 Blearily, the shepherd crawls out from beneath the altar and quietly opens the coffin lid. He swallows hard as he crawls inside, praying that the lid wouldn’t slam shut. Easing the lid down upon him, he screws his eyes shut and wraps his fingers around the dagger. 
 Only one more night. 
 That was all. 
 “Not in the pulpit? Then the crypt…,” muses the prince. 
 His fading footsteps make Shingetsu slightly relax until he remembers the prince and king’s promise. The crown and the Black Prince’s hand in marriage. He would never escape from these two blighted individuals for the rest of his life. A part of him is tempted to run out and attract the prince’s attention before the fourth bell chimes. 
 When the prince returns, Shingetsu can hear his footsteps making their way back to the altar. 
 “Now where could you be…?” chuckles the prince. 
  Silence. 
 The dagger in Shingetsu’s grip has become clammy with sweat. 
 “Oh my love…,” calls the prince. “It’s quite alright to crawl out of your hole now.” 
 The pet name makes Shingetsu release his grip from the blade, wipe his hands on his trousers and grip his weapon with greater intensity. He can hear the prince approaching his hiding place with slow, deliberate steps. 
 “I’ve returned to life and you must marry me or else a terrible curse will befall us both,” sighs the prince. His voice takes on a harsher tone with the next sentence. “Come out now.” 
 “Not until the fourth bell,” hisses the fly. 
 “I’m a man of my word, sentry. Like the cursed frog prince, I promise I won’t wring your neck if you reveal yourself to me now. Don’t make me drag you from your hiding place,” threatens the prince. 
 Another moment of silence passed by. The prince growls. He approaches the coffin and knocks on the wooden lid. Shingetsu’s hands begin to shake. 
 “Open up,” commands the prince. “Don’t make me do this.” 
 Shingetsu remains silent and still, willing himself to disappear. 
 The sound of teeth gnashing follows. Ka thunk. Fingers wrap around the lid of the coffin. With his heart in his throat, Shingetsu readies his blade. Distantly, the four o’clock bells chime, yet the fingers on the coffin lid refuse to move away. Instead, they open up the lid to reveal the prince’s unmarked face. He gives the shepherd a smile full of teeth. 
 “I found you,” he drawls in a singsong voice. “And you have released me from my curse.”
 He grabs Shingetsu’s wrist and pulls him out of the coffin. Reluctantly, the fly also flies out beside him. Frowning, the prince crushes it between his two hands before Shingetsu can let out a cry. 
 “Disgusting things, flies,” sneers the prince. “Now, we are going to be wed at dawn to ensure that nothing terrible happens to the both of us.” 
 “And if I say no?” utters Shingetsu. 
 Mist’s smile widens. 
 “Then I will wring your neck just like all of those other fools.”
 Horror fills Shingetsu’s eyes as he realizes that the curse had been no curse at all but a protective spell enacted to protect the people of this land. 
 “V-very well,” utters the shepherd. “I will marry you.” 
 “Excellent!” laughs the prince. “Come dawn, we will be the happiest couple in the land.” 
 He walks the terrified shepherd down the aisle and towards the doors of the cathedral, awaiting the king and his retinue. Before Shingetsu can speak, a loud thunderclap echoes across the cathedral. The Black Prince collapses onto the floor, a dark puddle pooling around his head. His eyes are wide open in shock. Panickedly turning around, Shingetsu stiffens when he sees his own reflection walking towards him. 
 “Now here’s a problem,” begins his mirror-image, amethyst eyes glinting with annoyance. “If I kill the prince, you’ll have a happy ending and it’ll just be the same all over again. Even if you weren’t on my list, I’d have killed you anyways. ” 
 “The same! The same!” chimes a smaller voice above his head. 
 Shingetsu’s mirror image aims a gray staff at himself. 
 “Who…are you?” utters Shingetsu. 
 Vector feigns a pout. 
 “I’m disappointed that you don’t remember me.” 
 A flash fills Shingetsu’s vision before a sharp pain blooms at the front of his head. He falls to the ground beside the lifeless prince’s corpse. 
 Kicking the bodies to make sure that they’re dead, Vector smirks in satisfaction when they remain still. Taking out a stamp from his hat, he marks yet another eliminated fairytale character from his list. 
 “Really, you’re as ugly as ever,” he mutters. 
 Despite that, he can still hear his twin brother’s laughter from another life, long, long ago. 
 Really, he hates that this cycle of reincarnation makes him face everyone that he’s hated and loved throughout his life. They never remember him, but he always does. Neither dead nor alive, he can only watch the wheel of samsara turn further and further away from him.
 As food begins to lose its flavor and emotions slowly drain out of him, he wonders what he will be once he’s emptied of all his mortal sensations.
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caffiend-inated · 2 years
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the blood thorn sorcery is cool and hot people use it, losing health every attack, a small price to pay for power
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toxicmetalzine · 1 month
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Vultimas
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VLTIMAS Remain Undefeated on "Invictus" Get the details right here: https://toxicmetalzine.com/post/vltimas-remain-undefeated-on-invictus
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demonlordcosnime · 8 months
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lets play fatal frame maiden of black water part 19
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jolienjoyswriting · 10 months
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The Maiden in the Mist (ft. Riku (the-minuscule-task), Ch. IV
Chapter 4 of 4 for "The Maiden in the Mist," a fan fiction story.
In the morning after a peaceful slumber, the ryū and kitsune discuss the future of their newfound relationship.
Word count: 2,620 – Character count: 15,228 Drafted: April 5th, 2023 Revised: April 6th, 2023 –
“Everybody wants a big dragon wife. uwu”     – the-miniscule-task
The more I wrote in this story, the more I found myself in full agreement with these words.  I… haven't fallen for a character so hard since jayrnski's Maple.  I guess… that's just my preference; I really like sweet, cute, innocent girls.  And, honestly?  While I'm not sure who's sweeter or more innocent between Riku and Maple, I do know that when I wrote this story… I was completely head-over-heels for the big, cuddly ryuusei waifu~ (Yes, I'm still aware that means "shooting star", not "nature dragon" or something.)
Riku and related characters and concepts created by and © the-minuscule-task Joseph Lithius and related characters and concepts created by and © Jo Li
[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ]
    "Mm…  Mmmmm…"
    My body moved and I felt short of breath.  Consciousness was coming back to me, slowly but surely.  My eyes fluttered a little… then they focused on something… green.  I tried to talk, but my mouth wouldn't cooperate.  I squirmed a little and found that I couldn't move very much.  Eventually, I started to realize… I was bound on the spot and my mouth – or rather, my lips – were being used.  By the time I'd fully understood what was going on, all the things locking me in place were released all at once.
    "Yozefu-san!"     I blinked several times in a row.  A familiar, green set of eyes was looking at me.     "Yozefuuu…"     And they were wet…
    "Oh…  H-hey, Riku," I whispered as I stretched.  "What's up?"     Riku, the lizard… dragon… uh… the cute thing from the hot spring was leaning on her arm next to me.  She looked ecstatic, beaming at me and half-crying.  As I looked around, I noticed that… we were still in that room at the hot spring.  That kind of made sense.     "I fell asleep…" I commented, sitting up.  "What time is it?"     I looked around for my phone… only for Riku to turn my head back her way.  She leaned in and offered a hard smooch before drawing back.  It was enough to get me blushing…     "W-well," I said with a nervous smile, "someone's affectionate this… morning?"     I looked toward the nearby window.  Yep.  It was morning…     "God… I don't know how people in Oedo did it…" I said, popping some joints as I stretched more.  "These straw mats are brutal on the back…"     I sighed, then I smiled.     "So?" I asked, gesturing to her.  "What's up?"     Riku looked like she was bursting at the seams to tell me something.  I'm pretty sure she'd been waiting for me to stop talking and pay attention…  I felt a little bad about that.
    "Yū sutēitto uisu mī!" she said with the usual amount of Engrish.  "Sankku yū…"     She gently stroked my cheek and looked at me with enough warmth to melt even the coldest of winters…     "Ai rāvvu yū, Yozefu…"     My brain hadn't quite caught up to what she was trying to tell me.  Something about staying with her?  As she leaned in and gave me another kiss, though, my brain finally translated her words.  And… I pulled away.     "Riku…?"  I stared, wide-eyed and red-faced.  "W-wait…  What do you–"     I paused, then I grabbed my phone.     "What do you mean you love me?" I had it ask in Japanese.     "Mm!"     Riku reached over… and drew a little heart over my heart.     "Rāvvu!" she exclaimed, beaming with pride.  Oh, crap…
    "Riku!" I cried.  "Hold the phone– I mean put on the breaks– ah…  Chottomatte!"     "Eeehh?"  The girl flinched, looking like I'd just struck her.  "Yozefu-san…?"     She smiled again… but tears were starting to build in her eyes.     "Rikaidekinai…  A-anata mo watashi o aishite i… iru to omoimashita ka?  Otagai-sukinara… d-dō shita no?"     I didn't know what she was saying.  I never did.  But I didn't need to.  She was huffing and trying desperately to keep from breaking into loud sobs.  I hated making her cry…     "No…" I whispered, reaching up and stroking her cheek.  "I…"     She closed her eyes, immediately calming as she leaned into my hand.  God… how could I deny such a warm, sweet, sensitive girl like her…?
    "Marry me."
    Riku's eyes slowly opened and she looked at me like a confused child might.  She was still leaning into my hand and her tears had calmed, but something was still wrong.  When my phone translated those two words into Japanese for her… she didn't seem to process them.  Then, without warning…     "Eh?  Eeehh…?  Eeeeehhh…?!"     She whipped back and looked at me like I'd gone insane!
    Okay, so… I don't exactly know how to transcribe what she said at that point…  It was… a lot of syllables.  I'm sure there were some whole words in there, too.  I'm just not entirely sure she was saying anything coherent.  She was in a full-blown panic!  Apparently… I'd… misunderstood her.  Like… severely.  And the worst part?  I'd only "proposed" to her as a joke…
    "Riku!  Riku, calm down–"     "Chottomatte, Yozefu!  Watashi wa anata–"     "I didn't mean– I was only–"     "Kekkon shitakunai!!  Wa-wa-watashitachiha otagai–"     "I-I'm sorry!!  I'm sorry… I…"     Riku was going to say something else, I'm sure.  When she saw me break down crying, though…     "Yozefu-san…?"     She snapped out of her panic… and went into full "comfort mode".
    I sniffled and shivered as she pulled me into her arms, rocking me and singing some Japanese… lullaby, maybe?  Whatever it was, it was the sweetest thing I'd heard in a long time… and it helped me stop panicking.  Heh.  I guess she just had that effect on me.  And I clearly had that effect on her…
    "Rāvvu…"
    Once we were both pretty sure I was calm, I leaned back and looked at her.  She spoke again, but in a softer voice than normal.
    "Rāvvu…" she almost whispered, holding up her hands in a heart shape.     "L… love…" I answered, returning the gesture.     "Dokidoki…" she continued, moving her hands forward and back like a heartbeat.     "Bump-bump…" I replied, doing the same.     "Suriru…"     "Um… 'thrill'?"  I wasn't sure about that one.     She nodded.  Then, she brought a hand up and gently poked in the middle of where my curled hands rested.     "Rāvvu yū, Yozefu…"     "I… I love you, too?"  I was starting to get confused, again.  What was she getting at…?     The dragon girl held a finger up.  She said a bunch of stuff into her phone.  Then, I listened as it played back in English…
    "There are many kinds of love in this world.  Conjugal love.  I love dogs and flying discs.  Love between friends.  Joseph, I love you as a friend.  You have come very close to me in a very short time and in a very meaningful way.  I hope we can get married someday.  Until then, I want to share love like the one we shared.  Cuddle.  I hate tea.  Say you will remain my friend."
    We both sort of… looked at each other.  Then, we looked at the phone.  Mostly in confusion.  Even though Riku's knowledge of English was about as limited as my knowledge of Japanese, she was pretty sure that a lot of what she said got lost in that translation.  Instead of trying again, though, she just sighed and tried something different.
    "Rāvvu yū, Yozefu," she repeated.  "Kawaii kitsune furīenddo!  Etooo…"     She paused, looking down as she desperately tried to "convert" words in her head.     "Hāguzu!" she chirped.  "Kishizu!  Dakishimeru…"     She gestured to me as she spoke.  First, she wrapped her arms around the air, squeezing.  Then, she brought a hand up and blew a kiss.  Lastly, she laid down and seemingly nuzzled the straw mat, scooting closer to some… thing?  I didn't get it, at first…  But, then…     "Riku…?"     She sat back up.  When she saw me smile, she smiled, too.
    "'Love'… 'friend'?" I asked.  She nodded, so I then asked, "You love me as a friend?"     Yes.  I know.  The phone had said that clearly.  Still… I wanted to confirm it.     She sort of understood what I was saying.  There was a look of confusion, followed by a bright smile… followed by another confused look, and an "Etooo…"     "Riku."     She perked.  When I leaned in and kissed her nose… she giggled, then she pulled me into a hug.  Okay, I think we were on the same page, finally…
    "So, I guess sex is off the table for now?"     I made sure my translator was off before I made my dumb joke.  However…     "Dainamaitto Sekkushī, ban-ban."     I had to stifle a swear.  She'd whispered to me, then she very gently kissed the base of my ear.  She was teasing me!  Luckily for us both, she stopped almost immediately and giggled.
    "Hey, uh…"  I turned my translator back on and asked, "Please don't be upset, but when I asked you to marry me, I was only kidding."     "Mm…"  She softly nodded, giving me a thumbs-up and a wink.  "Nō purobaremu!"     She brightly smiled at me.  What a relief…     "Also…"  I paused before asking, "Did you understand the last thing I said?"     "What you said when I replied, 'Dynamite sexy, bang-bang'?" she answered through her own translator.     I nodded.  "Yeah."     "I heard…" she began, her translation app skipping the word "sekkusu" for some reason, "but I didn't understand.  Was it important?"     I paused…  "Can I ask you something personal?"     She blushed, but she nodded.     "Why did you offer your body to me at the hot spring?"     I'm… not sure my translator did its job correctly.  Riku tilted her head as if processing what it said that I said.  After a few seconds, she talked into her phone and it translated.     "What does 'offering my body' mean?"     "You… seemed like you wanted to have sex after you checked to see if I was okay.  But, you seemed apprehensive, too…  Were you just being nice?"     The girl deeply blushed before the second thought got translated.  Apparently, the translation had worked that time.     "Etooo…"  She bit her lower lip.     "You don't have to tell–"     My translator tried to process that as she cut me off.     "I wanted to have sex," her translator told me as she uncomfortably shrank, "but I was scared.  We were strangers, but you seemed nice.  If you had tried… I would have let you…"     I felt a little tense.  There was a question I wanted to ask… but I wasn't sure I should.     "Did you want to have sex right now?"     I blushed as she suddenly asked the question for me, instead.  Well… not verbatim.  Her translator didn't relay the inflections, stammers, squeaks, or pauses very well.  Regardless, it still made me blush and fold my ears.     "Did you want to have sex?" I asked through my translator.     She shivered, blushing and looking… uncomfortable.     She whispered something that translated to: "U-um… if– if you want me to?"     Yep.  That was all I needed to make a decision.
    "E-eto– ch-chottomatte…!  Ah– mm…"
    I scooted over and knelt beside the girl, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and hugging her.  As I nuzzled her cheek, she changed from a nervous wreck into a warm, dragon-shaped kind of putty, heavily leaning into me and closing her eyes.  We were still tense, no doubt, but I think she appreciated the fact that I didn't want to just… use her like that.  What worried me, though, was the fact that she wasn't trying to cuddle back…     "Are you okay?"     She softly nodded in response to my translator.     "Do you want some water?"     She nodded again and I got up.  When I came back with a full teapot of cool water, she gently accepted it and put her lips to the spout, taking small sips.     "I'm sorry for upsetting you…" I whispered.     My phone picked it up despite my quiet tone, then Riku looked at me.     "Yozefu-kun?"  She looked… hopeful.  "Kissu me?"     I smiled.  "Okay."     The girl set her teapot down and turned to face me.  When I leaned in to kiss her… she pulled me in tight!  I blushed hard as she wrapped her entire snout around my muzzle and held me in place.  Was she going to tongue-kiss me…?!  I got my answer almost immediately… as she blew into my mouth.  Hard.
    As I jerked away, sputtering and coughing, she just laughed and laughed…  Eventually, I started to smile, then I laughed a little.     "Well, now I can tell people you blew me…" I joked.     "Sate," my cell phone repeated in Japanese, "ima dewa anata ga watashi o fukitobashita koto o hitobito ni tsutaeru koto ga dekimasu."     My ears fell.  "God damn it…"  Luckily…     "Yū burō mai mainddo, bēbī!"     Riku just winked and fired "finger guns" at me before giggling.  Apparently, my app had translated that sentence as something like "you blow me away".  We both laughed, then, as my phone picked up her Engrish and tried to translate it into Japanese.  I had no idea how close it was, but again… she seemed amused.
    "Anyway…" I began anew, "I really like you, Riku."     She smiled as my phone translated for me.  "I like you, too, Joseph!" her phone helpfully answered.     "I'd like to spend more time with you… if– if that's okay?"     She blushed and squirmed when my phone finished.  Then, she nodded.     "Kissu?"     Her face brightened and she smiled.  "Kissu!"     I leaned in again before telling her, "No burō."     "No burō!" she giggled.     I smiled, then I scooted closer.  We held each other close as she shared another long kiss…  God, she was good at kissing.
    "Mm…"     I blushed, my ears flicking as the kiss ended.     "Reddoroketto?"     "Wh-what?"     Riku giggled and tried to hide her face… but she asked again, "R… reddoroketto?"     Oh… my god.  Was she… was she asking if…?  I shyly nodded… and she squirmed, giggling.  Then, she leaned over, whispering something in my ear that I'm not quite sure I heard correctly.  Unless I'm wrong, though… I swear… swear… she whispered in her cutest voice… "Hoonī foo yuū, bēbī…"     I… I froze.  When she noticed me freeze, though, she gently placed her hands on my cheeks and leaned in, softly rubbing noses with me.     "Riku wa bakada…  Rāvvu yū, Yozefu…" she said.  She grinned, then, leaning back and opening her arms their full length apart.  "Ai rāvvu yū chiiiiisu māchu!!"     I couldn't take it.  I immediately burst into laughter!  When she did, too, we both fell over and continued laughing for a while.  She could be so damn cute…
    "Man… I never thought I could have this much fun with someone I don't understand…"     "Nani o itta no ka wakarimasenga, totemo umakatta ni chigai arimasen!"     "Same…"     We chuckled as we cuddled a little more, just happy to be there with one another.  It didn't matter that we couldn't properly communicate.  Friendship was something that went beyond the boundaries of things like language.  So long as we could look into each other's eyes… so long as we could touch each other's arms… so long as we could be open, honest, and sometimes even affectionate… I'm pretty sure we understood each other perfectly.  That's… probably why we never did end up having sex.  I know…  That's probably really disappointing – especially after all the build-up and tension.  But you know what?  Sometimes, it's nice to have just made a friend.  Especially one that's as amazing as her…
    Riku apologized on the morning that I was heading back to the States.  She apologized… like… a lot.  She begged forgiveness in two languages, even!  It wasn't necessary, though…  I understood… dragon or not… she just… wasn't comfortable in big towns.  She was amazing, though…  Not just because she might've been a magical creature thought to be extinct or because she was so tall and beautiful… but because she was honest.  Because she was pure.  And… because she loved unconditionally.     "Dorīmu avvu me, bēbī?" she asked, only half-serious.  She could tell how sad I was…     "I'll dream of you every night, Riku…" I answered, unable to stop myself from crying.     "Rāvvu yū tsū, Yozefu…" she whispered back, pressing her forehead to mine.     "Love you, too, Riku…"  I hated making her cry…
    I left Kurama Village feeling morose.  I managed to avoid crying on the plane as I remembered the almost two weeks I'd spent with that warm, beautiful lady… visiting springs, shines, and small villages as we got to know each other.  It hurt, knowing I wouldn't be able to see her again until my next vacation.  But, well… as the universal saying goes…
    "Shouganai"…
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apple-salad · 8 months
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Faltetto in navy and mist!!
I feel so incredibly lucky to have obtained these two pieces--the mist, which I had regretted not sending the payment to an SS back in 2017 when advance reservations were available at an event in China and later pined after for years--and the navy, which I had actually sent full payment to an SS for to reserve at Le Panier's event in Shanghai, only for MM to cancel all orders a year later.
For now, I think this is the only navy in existence and likely the same sample dress worn at the Le Panier fashion show, but I am hoping that MM culling their leftover samples and 2017 stock means that the general reservation for Faltetto that had been promised over 5 years ago may finally become reality. I have many friends waiting for a mist of their own, and I hope that everyone who wanted one will be able to as well.
I have a few companion posts made out of excitement, celebration and appreciation for this arrival: an unboxing (with detail pictures), a history post (very long and rambly), and a post about petticoats.
These two coords are thrown together a bit quickly for now, I would like to coord them again soon with more thought and appreciation.
coord breakdown:
JSK (Faltetto/Farutetto JSK): Mary Magdalene
Left: Blouse & headdress Mary Magdalene, shoes Fluevog, tights offbrand
Right: Blouse Krad Lanrete, tights and bracelets offbrand, shoes Molly Polly (taobao brand), necklace offbrand (from taobao), corsage pin Juliette et Justine, hair combs Victorian Maiden
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gensokyogarden · 1 year
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"Actually. I'm not sure that that anything would change in the future. The Scarlet Mist Incident was 21 years ago and I haven't aged a day."
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simulation-machine · 1 year
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This random hot guy now pronounces you Patrice and Jean Blackroot!
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dcbinges · 5 months
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Justice League International #12 (1988) by Keith Giffen, J.M. DeMatteis & Kevin Maguire
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b00kdiary · 6 days
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Can we please get an Eris x Plus size reader!!! I know he would be feral and you would write him so good >3
I will take ANYTHING for him!!! I trust you completely x
Fire Night | Eris Vanserra
Eris X Plus size Reader
It’s Fire Night and High Lord Eris has to complete the Great Rite. He finds Y/N – he finds his maiden.
Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, creepy Fae dude, and smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
"Nervous?" Lucien teased from beside me, the moonlight and stars above beaming down on his tawny skin and the pleased smile he wore.
"High Lords don't get nervous, little brother," I smirked, winking at him as he scoffed, unimpressed by my sure response.
But even my own arrogance couldn't hide the fire I felt simmering in my veins, the intensity getting stronger and stronger as the moon neared its apex. Mud and grass ground under my feet as we moved through the field, the wind blowing a cool breeze that ran over my short hair, my loose slacks, and my painted bare chest.
As if the earth itself was in anticipation of what was to come.
We stopped at the foot of the field, the slight downhill slope allowing us to see the broad scope of just how many of my people gathered tonight. Hordes of males and females – dancing, drinking, partying. They vibrated with anticipation too.
For Fire Night had come at long last.
It was my first as High Lord. For weeks we had been preparing for the Great Rite, for the moment where all the magic would be funnelled from me into the earth, to the soil and trees, to my court to feed it, to flourish it.
It had been all we had talked about for several months, yet now that it was here, it all felt surreal. I could smell the burning log fires, the clouds of soot misting the night air. I could see my people thrum with excitement and arousal, keen to find a pretty stranger to escape into the darkness with.
But most importantly, I felt my power within me, like a beast rearing its head. I felt it sharpening, honing, as a predator would before the ultimate hunt for prey.
"Has anyone caught your eye yet?" Lucien asked from beside me, metal eye ticking as he glanced sidelong at me. If he felt my restlessness, he did not comment on it. "There are many beautiful females here tonight, Eris. How will you choose your maiden?"
My Maiden. The female whom I would join with – mind, body, and soul for the magic within me to be released.
My senses felt acute now, narrowing the higher and higher the moon rose. My attention upon the females here tonight narrowed too. I felt many of their eyes on me, their attention on me, hoping to be chosen, to be given the honour of the Maiden tonight.
Lucien was right, there were dozens of beautiful females here, so many, and all different – tall, short, fair, dark, petite, curved, brunettes, blondes, redheads and –
My wandering gaze stopped, abruptly. And I could not look away, even if I wanted to.
For there, at the far end of the field, stood near hidden amongst a group of females I saw her. For a moment, the fire in me quelled, the noise around me silenced, and it seemed even the breeze fell still.
For her.
She with that bright smile and those glowing doe eyes. She with luscious hair and skin that seemed kissed by the moonlight. She with that body – fuck, that body. Curves upon curves upon curves. A canvas of flesh that I desired to spend eternity exploring.
To touch and taste and pleasure.
"I don't choose," My voice was like gravel, deepening as I watched her plump lips part and her head tilt back with a laugh. A laugh I desperately wished I could hear. "I will just know who my maiden is."
That's what the Priestesses had told me – you will know, Eris, when you see her. You will feel her presence, you will scent her skin, you will hear the sound of her voice and you will know.
I grimaced as they spoke, biting my tongue to stop myself from smarting about how tradition usually came with little logic. But now, now I understood. Because looking at her, I knew.
Mine. That's what my magic hummed. That she was mine.
"It's beginning," Lucien muttered, twisting his braid from his shoulder to swing down his painted back. I watched her, something sparking in my chest as she giggled, marvelling at the moon slotting into its place high above. And then she began running toward the forest with the crowd.
Grinning brightly, her hair flowing behind her with the breeze of the wind. Her bare feet padded against the floor, her hand holding her skirt high enough to expose the soft flesh at her thighs. Incandescent, like a living star she disappeared with her friends into the trees.
The hunt had begun. I felt it in me, the near-painful heat of my fire within, the tension pulling tauter and tauter as if desperate to escape. Desperate to follow – to follow her, down that path and into the darkness beyond.
"I assume Elain is somewhere in the forest, waiting for you," I smirked at my brother, seeing something glint in his russet eye at the mention of the fair female. "Shouldn't you be off to find your mate?"
The fox hunting his fawn. I felt a mixture of pride and joy as my brother began chuckling, meandering down the hill in search of his wife at my teasing words.
"You have your maiden and I have mine," Lucien winked, his heart racing in his chest as he followed that bond, that invisible string toward his mate. "Good luck, Eris."
I laughed as Lucien moved toward the tree line, following the crowds of giddy, drunken Fae every single one of them in a hunt of their own. The drums quickened their beat, the rhythm marching in time to the pulse in me, that raging storm.
The moon was at its apex. The Great Rite had begun.
And as I stormed down the hill and into the forest's mouth, I too tugged on the invisible string within me, tugged on that insatiable power.
I knew it would take me straight to her.
***
"Sara? Maeve?" I called out again, looking aimlessly through the acres of forest and night. My voice died out in the wind, drowned by the noise of people and the beat of drums. "Guys?"
I groaned as I waded over branches and fallen trees, my Fae eyesight the only thing stopping me from cutting open my feet or falling onto my ass. I lifted my muddied skirt higher, exposing my thighs to the brash wind as I climbed over a huge tree root.
"Guys?" I tried again. I heard a feminine giggle, and I whipped to the right – a male and female rushed past me, kissing, and touching as they waded further into the forest. I shook my head at them, knowing they were one of many seeking refuge in another's arms tonight.
Fire Night, or the Great Rite as some called it was for all accounts and purposes a fuck fest. Simply a huge orgy.
Where the citizens of each court partied and drank and danced through the night, where they loosened their inhibitions and ran away with pretty strangers to engage in activities otherwise taboo. It was the one night where no one cared and no one judged, the one night where every intimacy was encouraged, every orgasm needed to fuel the harvest.
Only the High Lord had a true role tonight. To find his maiden, to join with her and through that release all the power within him back into the land. It was their intimacy that mattered the most tonight, their releases that would take us into a fruitful Spring season.
Sara and Maeve had laughed and scolded me for calling it a fuck fest, for diminishing such an old tradition. And yet, they had dragged me along tonight anyway. I was coaxed with music and dancing and alcohol, told that we would frolic through fields and bask in the moonlight and drink until we couldn't see.
And for a while, we had done exactly that.
We had sipped at the Fae wine until all I could taste was grape. We danced around the log fires with ribbons in our hair and the wind on our skin until our feet ached. We had enjoyed the lovely music, Sara flirting with the lute player, teasing him to come find her in the forest later.
And we had basked in the moonlight, frolicked through the forest, and laughed and laughed and laughed – until about ten minutes ago, when I had lost Sara and Meave in a flurry of people, my hand slipping free from theirs until I was carried away by a wave of the crowd in the opposite direction.
I was lost. And I had wandered far enough out into the forest that no one was here but me. I should have been panicked, should have been scared, but the Fae wine I had drank earlier quelled all those instincts, quelled them until nothing but the faint hum of inebriation remained.
"Not lost are you, darling?"
I jumped at the voice, the rough amusement breaking through the distant sound of music and the far-out litter of voices. I turned, my breath caught in my lungs and latched my eyes upon a male standing not two feet before me.
Dark hair, dark eyes, tall, built, attractive – and staring at me like he wondered what my blood would taste like coating his tongue.
"No, no," I shook my head, tightening my hold around my skirt, my instinct screaming at me that I may need to run. The male took a step forward, eyes darting to the exposed skin peeking under my skirt. "I was just looking for my friends."
"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be out here alone," He clucked his tongue. He stepped forward. I stepped back. He grinned and revulsion ran through me. "I can be your friend if you'd like. Take care of you."
I knew exactly how he would take care of me. Knew exactly what depravity was running through his mind as he stalked closer and closer to me. I shook my head again, the forest terrifyingly quiet now as I yielded step after step from him.
"I'm fine, thank you," My knuckles were white from how tightly I held my skirt. I eyed the clearing behind him, the path back to the people and fires and dancing. Back to safety. His dark eyes glinted like he knew he was the one obstacle in my path. "I should return to the festivities – "
"Oh, come on," His voice turned sharp, lethal and I felt bile twist in my stomach as his slender hand clamped around my wrist, tugging me toward him. I smelt the wine on his breath as he yanked me to his side. "We both know you're not here for the music and dancing."
"Let go," I breathed, trying to pull my arm free. He clamped down until it hurt. My wide eyes met his, tears in them as I tried to pull back. "I said – "
"Let go," A voice of a God seared through the air. Tinged with flames and violence. "She said let go."
The male holding me snarled quietly, his drunken gaze ripping from my terrified face to whoever dared interrupt behind him.
His hand was furiously holding me one second and then the next his fingers slipped free. I stumbled back, clutching my aching wrist to my chest and staring at that unnervingly still male as he stared ahead. He was so tall, so broad I couldn't see who was there, couldn't see what had made him so scared.
"I'm sorry," He whispered. His voice cracked. I think I smelt urine too. "I'm sorry, High-"
"Leave," That voice again, as if torn from the Cauldron itself. So much anger, so much death promised in just one word.
And with that command, that trembling weak male scurried away like the vermin he was. Tail between his legs, head bowed and eyes on the floor, so small now as he ran back toward the field. And as he shifted from my eyeline, I saw what, who had begot that fear.
"High Lord," I breathed, the air whooshing from my lungs at the sight of the male stood before me.
Tall, foreboding, broad – Glorious.
I traced his pale, moonlit skin his chest exposed and painted beautifully with intricate dark whorls, every strong hard inch of him. His hair had been cut short, the bright auburn locks like a beacon in the darkness, as were his eyes – amber, and I swore I saw flames simmering in them as he slowly stalked toward me.
The air went taut – as if time and space and life itself had paused at our meeting. And the sight of him, that beautiful, indomitable masculine strength had my body trembling the closer he got.
My back hit a massive tree behind me and suddenly, like a lamb before a lion, I was caged in, trapped. He stopped, so close I could smell the warm cinnamon, the tart apple and rich clove on his skin. I could feel the heat of the fire in his veins, could feel the sweet burn of his gaze as he traced his eyes over my face and body.
"Did he hurt you?" He asked, voice like warmed honey and tart berries. I sucked in a sharp breath when his large hand came forward, tucking my hair behind an arched ear, his fingers brushing my skin just barely. I felt that touch through my whole body.
"No, I'm fine," I whispered, the pine digging into my back. Something in me yearned to go closer to him, yearned to feed into his touch, but I fought it, let the cut of wood against my skin distract me. "Thank you, for your help High Lord."
He stepped closer and I had to crane my neck to meet his furious, wild eyes. His hand lingered on my cheek, burning burning burning. And then his other hand moved, rested against the tree beside my head, and he leaned in, so close I knew he could smell the sweet wine with every shaking breath I took.
"Do you know how I found you, My Lady?" He asked, quiet menace lacing his words. I smelt mint and cider on his breath. I nearly moaned at how good it smelt. He continued when I didn't reply. "I followed my power. Followed the scent of you, the sound of you followed every print you made in the ground."
"Why?" I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as he inched forward, his beautiful face lowering to mine until I could count the freckles across his cheeks, could see the embers crackling in his iris. My eyes fluttered when his nose brushed mine and sparks followed that touch.
"My magic wanted you; it chose you," He said, a growl rumbling through him as he traced his nose across my cheek, letting my scent invade his senses. "My maiden. Mine."
Maiden.
Maiden.
Maiden.
Mine.
There was a lump lodged in my throat as the realisation settled in me. That I had been chosen, that I was the maiden for the Great Rite tonight. Me.
Eris pulled back, dark lashes fluttering as he peered down at me, his aura addictive and dark, assessing each rise and fall of my chest. Calloused fingers cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing along the skin there, leaving fire and need in its wake.
That burning in me it was because of him. It was in response to him.
"Do you accept, My Lady?" He breathed, and the way he addressed me, was full of reverence, of awe. A match for the look in his eyes as he traced my face, languished down my body. "Will you be my maiden? Will you let me worship you tonight?"
Worship me. He wanted to worship me, not the other way around. A night that was for him, that revered his power and yet he spoke as if this ceremony was in fealty to me as if I were the Goddess he would bow before.
That hand languished down my jaw, down my neck, the touch appraising, stopping just at the top of my chest. His amber eyes dipped, darkening at the valley between my breasts, at the material that clung to the small peaks of my nipples.
Worship, that is what his eyes said. Veneration at the foot of my altar.
"Yes, High Lord," I whispered, every word as breathless as the last. His hand on my chest tightened, and the ache that spread through me became nearly unbearable. "Tonight, I am yours."
A tsunami of fire erupted in his eyes at my words and every inch of me was molten at that look. At the promise behind it.
"Then I am yours too, My Lady."
He's upon me before I can even appreciate his words, the oath behind them. And by the Mother, I could taste the fire on his lips, taste the flames burning in his sweet mouth.
My back hits the tree as Eris claims me, his lips moving against mine in a way that could only be described as hungry. Lips and teeth and tongue and spit, the kind of kiss that devoured, that did not leave even an inch of space.
I moaned at the feel of his mouth against mine, moaned more as he pressed his tall, strong body flush against me, letting me map out every muscled inch of him. He growls at the noises that slip from me and into him, one hand curling around the base of my throat and squeezing.
"Eris," I whimper, the breath catching in my lungs as his long fingers close around my windpipe just barely. He groans, like a man starved as I nibble at his lip.
"Say that again," He commands, voice like death incarnate. And every atom in me wants to obey, every atom in me lives to satisfy him.
"Eris," I plead his name again, my back arching against the wood as he begins kissing and biting furiously across my jaw and jugular, the hand at my throat keeping me rooted in place. "Eris, please – "
I cry out at the sound of fabric tearing and suddenly, I feel a cold breeze against my back and hips. More fabric rips and I whimper as Eris yanks my ruined dress from my body, savage as he exposes my naked form to him.
"Fuck," He curses roughly, eyes like Hel itself as he gazes down at my naked body, my dress a ruined heap on the floor behind us now. My body is alight as he traces every inch of me, his chest erratic as he takes in my bare breasts, my stomach and hips, the way I clench my thighs to satiate the ache between them.
"Look at you," He muses, smirking as he runs his hands down the sides of my body, nails scratching at my flesh, his pupils blown out with lust as he takes me in. "Like a blessing from the Mother herself." 
 I croon at the satisfied growl in every word, back bowing when his hands caress down my waist and hips, kneading the skin before settling over my ass. He groans as he fondles the flesh, canines nipping at the base of my throat.
“Eris!” I squeal when his hand claps against my ass cheek, the sound loud in the silence of the forest. He laughs, massaging the hot, aching spot and it’s almost embarrassing how wet I am, embarrassing how I can feel it dripping down my thighs. “Please, please Eris. Take me – “
“I will, my lady,” He mutters, the sound muffled as he circles his tongue around my nipple, teasing the sensitive buds. I lace my fingers into his short, silken hair and I feel him sink down, down, down, my body.
“High Lord?” My voice is shaking as I stare down at him. He’s on his knees before me, amber eyes peering up through long lashes at my naked, trembling body.
High Lord of the Autumn Court. On his knees before me.
“I’ll take you, sweet girl, don’t you worry,” He muses, and I’m not breathing as his hands come to my thick thighs, parting them and moaning at the wetness dripping from my core. His eyes flash to me, molten and cruel. “But a female as pretty as you has to come on my tongue before she can around my cock.”
He looked ravenous as he curled his large hand around my calf and lifted my leg to hook over his broad shoulder. I should have been embarrassed, mortified at the prospect of being naked in the middle of a forest, for anyone to stumble upon.
But as he neared the wet, aching spot between my legs, I didn’t care.
“Oh Gods,” I gasped at the first broad stroke of his tongue through my folds.  Eris growled, a purely satisfied, appraising sound and when he traced his tongue up from my wet hole and to my clit again, my head tilted back against the bark, and I moaned.
I was grateful for the drums and the music pounding through the air, glad for how far into the forest we were, glad that everyone else was preoccupied with their own partners tonight. Because as Eris’s tongue licked and sucked and flicked against my core, I couldn’t contain any of the noises that ripped from me.
Eris groaned, content and satiated, one hand sprawled across my thigh, the other holding down my flailing hip as he lapped his tongue over me again and again, tasting me in a way that had tears brimming in my eyes.
“Taste so sweet,” He muttered, lips plucking back from my swollen clit, the sound so lewd. He didn’t waste any time though, no, he slipped lower, and I whimpered into the night air as he shoved his hot tongue into me, fucking my tight walls furiously.
Eris was a male who took his females pleasure seriously, seemed to feed off it, and seemed to relish it. His tongue slipped in and out of me and his nose brushed my clit back and forth, stimulating two spots that made my body shake from the pleasure.
My climax approached me so fast, that fire that simmered in me from Eris’s presence stoked and suddenly I felt the flames kiss my whole body.
I cried out, his tongue buried in me and his nose toying with my clit, the sounds wet and filthy, his grumble of approval vibrating through me.
“Eris, Eris – “
Everything eclipsed my vision as my orgasm hit me, so hard I felt it rattle my very bones. My back bowed and my eyes rolled, tremors wrecking me as waves of release washed over me. I was moaning, near crying, my stomach and thighs clenching and unclenching as Eris’s tongue lapped and lapped at me.
I felt my release pulsing in the air around us, a living breathing thing. I swear the wind kissed me at the feeling as if nature itself was thanking me for the power I’d let free into the world.
I whined desperately, pushing at his head and writhing, trying to pull my sensitive clit free from his merciless mouth. He chuckled, lips plucking away and relenting. I sagged in relief, back pressed flush to the tree behind me.
“You look so beautiful,” Eris breathed and my heavy eyes blinked open meeting his. He looked beautiful – on his knees, sweat coating his skin, my wetness glistening over his mouth and nose. “I wonder how perfect you'll look coming around my cock.”
He smirked, looking like a Prince of Hel as his hand snaked up my sweating body and wrapped firmly around my throat. He tugged me down, his lips crashing against mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue. My hands fell to his broad, muscled chest and his arm snaked around my back, fingers digging into me.
One second, I was before him and then the next, he yanked me down and flipped me so that I lay on my back against the grass and mud.
I giggled, my heart thundering wildly in my chest as he braced his arms on either side of me, face hovering over mine. The smirk he wore was terrifying, a promise of ruination. I could feel the tension going taut between us, feel his power thrumming in anticipation.
“Are you ready, my lady?” Eris asked, wicked menace lacing every word. I whimpered as his nose brushed mine, one hand slipping between our bodies and pushing down his slacks. He hissed as his cock slipped free, his hand curling around himself and pumping.
“Yes, High Lord,” I whispered, satisfaction filling me when Eris snarled, that title on my lips more arousing than he could think possible. His nails dug into my flesh as he hooked my thigh around his muscled hip, and we both moaned when his tip brushed my centre.
He was big, thick, and long, I could feel it as he traced through my folds, coating himself in me. I curled one hand into his short hair, the other raked down his muscled arm, his skin scorching with intense heat, vibrating with power under my touch.
“Oh – “
He slipped his tip into me, and the stretch from just that one inch was enough to knock the air from my lungs. And then my back was arching against the soft ground, as he pushed in another inch and then another until my walls were burning and my thighs were shaking from the pressure.
“Look at me,” Eris commanded, his voice hissing through his clenched teeth. I blinked my eyes open, meeting a sea of blazing embers. Eris grinned as he maxed out in me, his hips brushing mine as he settled. “Good girl.”
“Er-Eris – “ I choke, my body spasming as he pulls his cock out to the tip, leaving me utterly bare before slamming his hips forward in one brutal thrust, forcing himself back into me until he hits my cervix.
He does that again and again. He pulls out and then he shoves it back in. Every last inch. And I scream for him, I clench around him, I let him ruin me.
My body trembles as Eris begins fucking into me, his hips rolling hard and deep, stretching my tight walls until all the pain vanishes and becomes a pure, euphoric pleasure. His pace is brutal, unforgiving, his hold on my body bruising as he forces me to adjust, forces me to take it.
“Just like that,” He praises the voice of a God, the voice of a High Lord, a male who was in complete control. His lips meet mine, teeth and spit, biting my lips and battling my tongue as he moves inside me.
It was like no other experience I’d ever had, like sleeping with no other male. I felt every stroke through my whole body, felt every brush of his tip in the spongey spot deep in me through my blood and veins. Was it because he was a High Lord? Was it because of the Great Rite? It had never felt this good before.
And Eris seemed to know it, he seemed to feel the same. The noises that came from the High Lord, the snarls and growls, the grumble of deep groans that reverberated into me as he sunk in at a different angle. The small whimpers and desperate moans as I kissed and suckled his lips, his jaw and neck.
His hips jolt into me, hard and deep and fast, hitting a spot that makes tears leak down my cheeks. Tears that Eris chuckles at, a sardonic sound before he gently licks them away. His kisses were soft, so at odds with how his cock fucked me raw.
“Eris,” My mouth gapes open as that familiar pool in me begins to fill. “Oh Gods, Eris I’m going to come – “
His hand wraps around my throat, squeezing in intervals around my windpipe, in tandem with how his cock drives into me. Stars start bursting through my gaze, I see his amber eyes, I see the moon shining above, and I feel my power gathering and gathering.
“Are you going to come, my lady?” He mocks, sweat beads coating his skin, melting our bodies together. I sob, the sound choking out of me from the lack of air. “Is the maiden going to make a mess of her High Lords cock?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I cry out at his filthy words, my nails biting against his skin, against his scalp as the fire in me rages into a full-blown storm. Eris curses at how tightly I clench around him and his amber eyes light, like candles flickering to life.
The air turns still. The wind stops moving. Even the sound around us dies out. He hits that spot in me again and again, and the power between us is starting to tear apart.
“With me,” Eris snarls, pressing a wet kiss to my lips. His movements become erratic, desperate, and that last thread rips away and he groans. “Come with me, my lady.”
I scream his name, and flames engulf us both as he roars, his cock spasming and spilling his cum inside me. Black dots fill my vision, and all I can feel, all I become is fire – it explodes from us, from him, as release waves and waves and waves over us.
It's unlike any climax I’d ever felt before, my thighs clamping around his waist, my walls suffocating him inside me and both our bodies shaking from the aftermath. Power leaks from him, from me, and I can feel it seeping into the soil, into the trees, into the very air.
I force my eyes open, watching as Eris pants above me, one hand holding my throat, the other braced beside my head. A God, he looked like a God – moonlight beaming over his wet skin, amber eyes a tsunami of flames, his strong throat working as he groaned from the pleasure ringing from him.
The ultimate release, not just sexually, not just physically, but spiritually – he was feeding our land, feeding our Court.
“Fuck,” Eris curses, voice like gravel now. He collapses against my chest, burying his head into the crook of my neck as his orgasm fades, as the Great Rite is completed. I hold him to me, our heart beats pounding in tandem as we come down from our highs. “Fuck.”
I run my hand through the damp stands of his hair, kissing his cheek tenderly, feeling his cock still inside me, softening. His hands curl around my waist and thigh, not even an inch of space between us. It was just me and him, the moon above, the forest around and the wind kissing our skin.
The earth felt fuller somehow, everything felt stronger around us.
“Congratulations, High Lord,” I smiled, feeling Eris chuckle against my skin. He kisses the junction where my neck and shoulder meet. “You’ve completed your first Fire Night.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, my maiden,” He nipped at my jaw as he raised his head, grinning at the giggle that escaped me. His amber eyes met mine, liquid gold in them and he smiled. “Only your sweet – “
His words stopped, abruptly. As if someone had torn the air from his lungs. As if someone had frozen all movement in his body.
“Eris, what – “
Amber eyes. Pale moonlit skin. Fire, fire, fire –
And then it clicks into place in me too. I feel it like the last piece of my soul.
“Mate,” Eris breathes, and his hands tighten over my flesh. Possessive. Needy. Claiming. “You’re my mate.”
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