Horny. That's what you are, absolutely 100% horny. You've just woken up from a dream that felt way to real, your body hot and wet. You swear you can still feel hands on you. You shiver as you get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen for a glass of water.
Once back in bed, you try to go back to sleep. Try being the keyword. Your mind keeps replaying the dream over and over. A hot mouth on your pussy, big hands bruising your thighs while they keep your legs open. The shadows keeping you immobile, wrapped around you like silk ribbons. And eyes that held your gaze when you dared look between your legs. Glowing glacier orbs peering into your very soul. You whimper and rub your thighs together.
A flicker of movement by the edge of your bed catches your eyes. You freeze, a shiver making it's way up your spine as the eyes from your dream stare back at you. A scream bubbles up your throat only for you to be silenced by black shadows.
The eyes come closer, pressure causes your bed to dip as shadows form a human-like form around the eyes. Arms drag up your legs before hands dig into your hips, shadows teasing the elastic band of your sleep shorts.
What sounds like multiple voices at once breaks the silence, "We were not done with our meal, rude of you to wake."
--prompt from @two-bees-poetry "apokatastasis" (6 April)
On a floating island,
the mist falling in a
cold, earthenware cup,
I meet you again,
on a throne overgrown
with ivies overwhelming
its delicate construction
in fine gold.
Tungsten weighs you down--
but not because it's heavy--
no! It's because with
a good craftsman, it could
become lights strung
from the city.
You let it become your
ruin, despite
your best intentions.
I arrive from a state
of disgrace, wondering
if a miracle could happen
after floricide. You offer
bushels of lilacs;
but blood still remains
on the tiny petals.
It is over.
But you, lonely god,
creator of despair and hope,
couldn't you renounce
being a hermit with
a thousand sins,
and inspire somebody else
to restore the world? --Elda Mengisto
Gullskögul (Golden Skögul)
(Skögul means "shaker" or "one who incites battle"—often linked to the Valkyries, but here, it is the one who shakes the fields, the one who stirs the wind through the golden stalks before winter arrives.)
I was thinking of spring and Norse Mythology/Lore and decided to work further on this.
I've seen a few Solavellan peeps do this, so joined in 💖
✨️If your OC was a forgotten god, which sacrificial offering would revive you?✨️
El'aria Lavellan
A jawbone kissed with honey
"i left it on your altar, still warm. the sweetness dripped down my wrist. i wanted you to bite first." your return is quiet. sticky. slow. they called you back with something soft—too soft. a gesture of tenderness wrapped in rot. you were once a god of hunger and memory, and they remembered both. the jawbone came from a creature they could not name. the honey? from their own mouth. you taste the devotion laced in decay, and you do not forgive. you never asked to be loved like this.
You know if this year’s harvest is damaged by the predicted frost, it will be very bad for your town. You agree that appealing to the ancient forest god worshiped in this area hundreds of years ago is worth trying. However, the Councilor’s translation of the ancient rituals is crap and when you argue with him, backed by your own translations, you’re still pushed aside.
Imagine your surprise when the name of the young, well-off, unmarried woman to be chosen for sacrifice is your own.
Now you need to figure out a way to save, not only your town, but also yourself.
Great.
Fantasy, sacrifice to a harvest/forest god, friends to lovers, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F, Part 8 of 8
The soft light of dawn doesn’t wake you this deep under the temple, so Tai does.
His fingers slide through your hair, a gentle petting motion that doesn’t jolt you to wake, but instead slowly persuades you that perhaps there is something more pleasant than even sleep if only you move just a little closer.
Your reward for giving in is increased pressure and a gentle kiss to your forehead. The combination is enough for you to open your eyes. A large hand pushes your hair out of your eyes and you can’t help the delight that blossoms across your face at the sight of Tai’s face so close to your own. Without thinking, you angle your face for the kiss he unhesitatingly leans in to press against your lips.
In a blink, you’re in his lap, hands pressed to his wonderfully firm chest as he continues to kiss you sweetly. You snuggle closer and murmur against him, “What time is it?”
“Early enough.” His voice is rougher in the morning and you can feel its delightful vibration through his chest under your hands. “How did you sleep?”
“Soundly,” you reply, nuzzling against his shoulder, breathing in his fresh scent, absently doting kisses to his freckles because you can.
“Good.”
You slowly wake gradually, remembering more and more about the world that exists outside this sacred place, made more so by the intimate bubble that seems to surround yourself and Tai. There must be something about how time works in this place. You feel well-rested and the two of you have worked out a solid plan for how best to tackle the town without hurry and yet, when you finally reach the upper floors of the temple, the sun still hasn’t finished cresting, half hidden by the mountains.
He kisses you one last time before he heads up to the second landing. You keep to the shadows near the altar you’d been so ceremoniously arranged upon just hours ago. The ropes Tai had slit with his claws still lie where he left them, half tied still to the altar. It’s odd to see them now.
You finger the cuffs of the wide sleeves of your new priestess robes. When you’d finally gone to leave his bed and remembered the state of what you’d been wearing, you’d briefly been at a loss only for Tai to have already thought of what you would need.
You love the impressive outer robe with its rich embroidery. Complex patterns of leaves and flowers swirl across it and a simple sleeveless green top and long, wide cut brown pants that almost look like a skirt are soft and comfortable underneath. Your new priestess vestments are completed with the knotted pine staff Tai had given you.
You feel rather like a child playing dress-up, but you don’t feel like an impostor—you feel cheerful and mischievous, ready to play a delightful prank on a bully.
Speaking of, you draw closer to the shadows when you hear approaching footsteps. Tai reassured you that in the temple as a sworn priestess, if you don’t wish for outsiders to see you, they won’t, but you still feel exposed as you wait with baited breath.
Soon enough, the Council, with Wilder in the lead, arrives on the wide outer patio around this level of the temple. They seem nervous, you notice with satisfaction. With the brazier and torchlight extinguished within the temple, it must be impossible to see within to the altar.
Wilder straightens, pulling together some semblance of bravado, and walks through the entrance. He blinks in the darkness, eyes trying to adjust as quickly as they are able. You’re able to see the exact moment he sees the bare altar. His eyes go wide and frantic. It's clear he can’t tell if this is a promising sign the ‘sacrifice’ has been accepted or the herald of something worse. There’s also a level of shock you can read—even he seems to have been skeptical this farce would cause anything to happen.
A few of the others crowd in the entranceway, murmuring with surprise and anxiety as they notice what he has. He steps closer, his eyes sharp on the cut ropes and you can see the calculation on his face as he tries to determine what exactly happened to you.
You’re relieved he truly cannot see you and you wait for the moment to come. Within a few seconds, Wilder puts his hand on the altar and instantly a loud sound splits the air. Everyone flinches, several people ducking despite nothing flying at their heads. Slightly more prepared for it, you think it sounds like the loud crack of a tree falling in the forest—on top of you. Wilder takes one step back and the rest of the counsel hastily retreats outside.
More ominous creaking sounds fill the air and the temple itself seems to shudder, dust and dirt escapes from the ancient walls and floors. Wilder takes a few more stunned steps back, his sleeve covering his mouth and his eyes wide as he stares in horror.
Perhaps it makes you a petty person, but you thoroughly enjoy his reaction and the fear that starts to fill his eyes. Relieved you feel no urge to cough at the debris in the air, you track him as a particularly loud scrape of stone on stone pulls his eyes from the empty altar to the entrance way. He hastily turns tail and runs, fleeing the temple just in time for two stone doors to slide into place, closing off the entrance in his pale and terrified face.
As you slip down a short staircase to a lower entrance, a booming voice filled with menace echoes through the air.
“INSOLENCE!” The temple seems to shake as if something—or someone—far too large has landed on it. “PRESUMPTION! BLASPHEMY!”
It’s hard to identify the voice as Tai’s but you can just barely. You emerge on the lower tier and hover just inside the temple, where you can’t be seen, to find the Council as a whole cowering at the foot of the temple—Wilder at the front by their choice rather than his own. You duck out a side window to peer up at Tai, standing on the original tier looking far more like Arcertillus than he had even last night.
He looks at least eight feet tall now, his eyes glow wholly red, as they had when he’d gotten particularly angry last night. The green streaks down his face and still bared chest are even more pronounced and jagged—textured in a way they hadn’t been even a few moments earlier. The claws you’d seen briefly when he cut the ropes that bound you only for them to be neatly tucked away for the rest of the night he spent running them carefully over your skin were back. They glinted gray and curved in the dawning light, drawing the eye to their lethality. His crown of antlers had grown as well, tangling in fantastic ways and yet he bore his head without notice of the increased weight. Finally, pronounced canine teeth were bared in a snarl as he condemned those who had thought to do you harm.
You found yourself stunned silent, no different than the others, at his majesty.
“How dare you disrespect this temple and me in such a heinous manner?” His voice drops as he practically hisses at them. When he had brushed off your concerns about how this would go, saying blithely that he understood how to treat people like the Council, you were rather skeptical. The only time you’d ever been around Tai and even one other person he’d clammed up and made his escape quickly.
Apparently, you shouldn’t have bothered. Practice must really make perfect. None of his usual discomfort with speaking or of others is evident as he addresses the gathered crowd. No wonder Arcertillus has such a reputation. Given what you know of Tai and his own admission he’d played into being ‘untouchable’ so he would be left alone, you can see why he might have built such a persona. And why it might have worked.
It’s fascinating to watch.
“Never, in all my centuries of worship, have I been given,” he practically spits the word and multiple people flinch, “such an insult. To truss up one of your own like a pig to the slaughter. To butcher the ancient words and wisdom with such a profane offering.” Wind howls and leaves swirl in punctuation of his words as he prowls the edge of the tier he’s on.
Before he can continue, someone pushes to the front of the crowd. “Where is she? Where is my daughter?”
Your father had never understood you, not really, but he’s never pushed you to be anyone else, never treated you as any less of a daughter simply because you’d rather spend your time alone or with dusty books. His fear makes his eyes wide, leaves his skin pale, but his demand is as firm as he can make it. He’d never believed this would work, certainly not when you’d dismissed Wilder’s ‘translated ritual’ as nonsense, so he must be in shock. But when Wilder tries to push him aside or down, your father resists.
“Where was that concern yesterday?” Tai taunts and you pull yourself back through the window to make your way back to the entrance. Wilder and some of the others deserved to fear: your father who only listened to you, did not. “I am not the one who covered their child in paralytic paint and left them tied to stone all night. I set her free.”
“Where?!”
“While it would be well within her rights to get as far from such an unworthy community who treated her so despicably,” Tai practically growls around the words, before he swallows them down. You’re not actually sure how much of this is him playing into his role and how much is lingering anger what happened. However, as he’s moved back in the direction he said he would, you pause just inside the entrance for your cue. “She elected to stay, to speak for you. It is only through her grace that you have been spared from my wrath for such a disrespectful and insulting display. In gratitude, I have rewarded her.”
“I am certain you will not make the same foolish mistake twice and that you will show all due respect to my new priestess.” You step forward as he speaks, the movement drawing attention away from even such a fearsome display. Your father sags where he stands, relief plain on his face. The others merely stare in shock.
“Since you have proven incapable of sensible communication,” disdain and arrogance drip from his voice now, and with your father—and siblings you could now make out in the crowd—reassured of your safety, some of the rather petty glee returns to you. You stand confident as Tai continues to play his part, “It seemed necessary to request that someone take up such an important position once more. If you truly wish for my aid.”
“We beg your forgiveness, O Great One,” Wilder tries, raising his hands up placatingly. “We only meant—”
“SILENCE! You only meant to elevate yourself at the expense of another. In return for my gracious regard, you will be removed from your position, stripped of your rank, and never again set foot in the sacred temple. I want you gone from my sight!”
Wilder staggered at the judgment, mouth agape–too stunned to even protest. Your father and Councilor Heath are quick to grasp hold of him by the arms and drag him away. As he begins to try to spew protests, the Chairman of the Council, a good friend of Wilder, steps forward, obviously trying to appear confident. You narrow your eyes as he says, “We apologize for any and all slights against you, but I implore you that we had only poor translations to draw on. Our desperation was great and we promise to—”
“You had far more competent translations,” Tai interrupts with a hand waved at you. “Provided by my priestess.”
Chairman Wills’ eyes slide to yours, trepidation in them as he no doubt recalls how thoroughly he had dismissed you on Wilder’s assurances. You raise your chin as you meet his eyes squarely and say nothing to help him. He swallows nervously. “Councilor Wilder had years of experience on her, how could we have known—”
Tai interrupts him with another rebuke, “I care not for why you refused to listen to her and only that you did. As you refused to hear her, I refuse to hear you.” Instantly the Chairman quails, eyes darting frantically away and landing rather desperately on your own. When you simply stare back, waiting, he slinks back into the crowd. “My priestess has persuaded me to hear your petition. Know she speaks for me or leave.” He folds his arms.
Finally, you take another step forward. “Arcertillus has graciously agreed to protect our harvest. He has aided me in translating the correct prayer needed to do so.” You motion for the Council Clerk to come forward, which she does cautiously. You know she always has paper on her and so you write out the succinct prayer that Tai had tailored for the protection of a harvest.
You motion more council members over while you copy the prayer multiple times in as clear a hand as you can. You explain that the way for this ritual to work is for as many people to pray at sunset, in large groups if possible. You reassure them that it will in fact work, and with nervous glances at the silently judgmental figure of the god above them, they hastily profess their faith.
Eventually though, after some disburse to spread the word throughout town, others begin to question you more about what happened last night. Tai growls low at a particularly accusatory question, a Councilor who seemed to imply you’d planned this all along for power and to make your own move against Wilder, which is so absurd you have to hold in a laugh.
“You have lingered at this holy site long enough,” Tai says, jumping down to land midway down the stairs between this lowest tier and the mid-tier he had been on.
Most of the other townspeople blanch and bow out, but someone at the side of the crowd catches your eye while you bid the rest farewell. Your oldest sister is hovering off to the side, the baby in her arms is the obvious reason for her delay. Despite her exhaustion, she has enough energy to meet your eyes with concern. Her eyes dart to the intimidating figure behind you and then back to you, obviously worried that, despite his words and your disposition, you might still be currently under someone else’s control. You do your best to project calm confidence and when she still seems concerned, you smile as genuinely as you are able to and wink. That does the trick and she finally relaxes.
Soon enough, everyone heads back into town to spread the news and inform all the citizens. After you watch the last of them turn the corner out of sight, you turn back to the temple to see Tai is no longer there either.
You go back inside and find him easily enough, leaning against the temple wall, his eyes intent on your own. He’s shorter than he had been outside already, his more otherworldly features slowly but obviously returning to the state they had been last night.. You ignore the pang of disappointment you feel—he had been quite majestic. You’ll have to convince him to show more of himself now that you know there is even more to show.
“How do you think it went?” he asks, his voice seems purposely gentle.
You frown, trying to put your finger on the way he seems off even as you walk closer. A flash of insight hits: perhaps he is worried that you too had been intimidated or that he had overdone it. “Perfectly,” you say. “Did you see Wilder’s face?”
You must have guessed right because instantly his posture loosens as the tension flees his frame. “It was rather amusing,” he admits with a smirk.
You laugh at his understatement as you come to a stop in front of him. Idly, you think you must come up with some reasoning to convince him never to put his shirt back on again. “I’ve given them all the prayer and they will pray it tonight. Sunset should give plenty of time for word to spread and so you should be able to protect the harvest before the frost.”
He smiles down indulgently at you, obviously proud your plan is coming together and pleased that you’re pleased. Then his eyes sharpen on your face as he cups your cheek. Leaning down, he murmurs, “However will we pass the time until tonight?”
You smile cheekily in reply, “I’m sure there are some priestess duties you could go over with me.”
“Of course,” Tai replies, his voice lower and his eyes darker. After pressing a far too brief kiss to your lips, he takes your hand and starts pulling you further into the temple. He still looks very much like a wild thing, like a spirit from stories that people stumble upon in the forest and who are so enticing that the wanders never leave.
His eyes are his though, green and deep and true. His smile, too, is his own, small and secret and eager.
“Follow me.”
You do.
~/~
This story is now complete. Thank you so much to everyone who followed along and left so many encouraging comments and tags - I’m not sure i would have had the motivation to keep up with this story, certainly not at the pace i did, without you lovely readers!
