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lowtaperfeyd · 1 month

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A Scintilla of Excitement (Chapter 1)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Mentat!reader

author's note: This is the first chapter of the mentat series I am writing! I'm so excited for you to see what else I've come up with for this :D (It has now taken the spot for longest thing I've written.) Also go check out my beta-reader @zzleeper!!!!

warnings: house harkonnen, death, mentions of knives,

wc: 1529

You sat on the cold, metal seat of the ornithopter the Harkonnens sent to come and get you from the heighlinder. The scraping of metal startled you when they screeched unexpectedly.

How tragic, you thought, my final moments will take place in a world with no normal sun. And no normal sons either.

The entire two day trip on the heighliner was not so bad. You were allowed to wander the empty ship corridors and explore even up to the staff decks. The only part that was scary were the ‘servants’ aboard the ship. Their bald heads, that seemed to engulf any light that shined on them, made you feel uneasy.

If this is how I feel when I see people like this, I wonder how I’ll feel when I see the baron.

They always seemed to look at you as if you were an alien. Which I supposed you were. The color to your skin that made you look more alive than them. It probably scared them just as much as it scared you.

As you continued to sit there in the cockpit, thinking about the heighliner, you fiddled with your fingers and did not sit fully still.

“We have a nervous one I see!” Shouted a voice from the front of the cockpit where the pilot was. A voice that had a distinct inflection that just screamed Harkonnen, even if the owner of the voice was whispering,

“Don’t worry the baron doesn’t play with his food.” The pilot laughed out, “But the Na-Baron, oh boy watch yourself around him!”

As you sat there, mildly disturbed at what you just heard, the pilot went on and on about the things he had seen the Na-Baron do. Almost like he was proud of him,

“There was this one time Na-Baron took a butter knife off the table and stabbed one of his uncle’s advisors because he didn’t agree with what he was saying!” He exclaimed, “One of my friends was there, he barely survived with just one eye left. Told me all about the story.”

“That's,” you swallowed so as to not hurl at what you heard, “really something…”

FACT: HARKONNENS AND THE PEOPLE OF THE PLANET, IN GENERAL, ARE USED TO THIS VIOLENCE AND ENJOY IT.

INFERENCE: DON'T ACT LIKE YOU HATE THOSE THINGS, BE VERY NEUTRAL ON IT.

HYPOTHESIS: IF YOU CAN ACT LIKE YOU FEEL INDIFFERENT ABOUT THESE THINGS MAYBE THEY'LL PUT IN A GOOD RECOMMENDATION TO KAITAIN.

“It’s incredible, ” The pilot responded, “But the real question is, why does the baron need another Mentat?”

“Another good question is where’s the store that doesn’t sell chatty pilots?”(Y/N) retorted, feeling a little sick and tired from the traveling and what they had just heard.

The snap seemed to shut him up just long enough before you landed on Giedi Prime.

“About an hour before we land on the surface, Mentat.” The same pilot muttered in annoyance.

Actually, 1 hour, 2 minutes, and 23 seconds. But who's counting or keeping track? Definitely not you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the heighliner ramp went down, it allowed you to fully see the polluted land around Geidi Prime. The black sun changed the red, metallic bracelet you were wearing to a dark and shiny gray, almost sliver, instead of its normal vibrance. You saw the guards and their multitude of weapons and dark armor.

If they were standing inside, that would be black. You thought, but that isn’t a surprising detail.

“Are you ready to walk down, Mentat?” one of the other workers on the heighliner asked.

“Yes.” You responded courteously, because you had a pretty good idea of what would happen if you disrespected someone with all the guards and important people around.

The ramp underneath your feet was extremely slippery and steep and forced you to take very slow and precise steps to reach the end. At the rate I am moving I’ll get to the end after the sun goes down. You eventually got to the end of the ramp. But, you only looked at your feet the entire time. Once you looked up you saw a man with a black hood and robes, as well as the lip tattoo you had.

That’s Piter de Vries.

You took the final ten steps to walk to him. As you walked you noticed him look you up and down in an arrogant and almost disgusted manner.

You put your hand out waiting for him to shake your hand. As you did this you said, “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), the new Mentat.”

Instead of him talking your hand he just continued to look up and down. Most likely reviewing the clothes you were wearing and the way you held yourself. Awkwardly, you put your hand down back to your side.

“Well your arrival in the ornithopter was on time. But, the way you traversed down to the ground was quite untimely.” He remarked, “It must be quite exciting for you to have your first assignment.” He added sarcastically.

Just a scintilla of excitement, it would be more if I was not here.

“But, there is no time for talking,” he exhaled, “I can’t have you seeing the baron in such attire.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You looked around at the small bedroom you were given. The room had a hospital type of antiseptic-ness. The walls were bare besides small vertical groves and bolts into the walls holding things together. There was a little gray desk that had shelves that were indented into the walls above it. Beside your desk, was the little chest of belongings that were sent before you had departed from Tleilax.

I’ll unpack that before I go to bed tonight.

You turned toward your bed, a relatively small bed with dark covers and pillows. On top of that was a black butcher paper package. On the front of it, in clear print was, TO THE MENTAT, (L/N). In the package was a set of black clothes that looked similar to the ones you see de Vries as well as other people wearing, except without the cloak. On top of the clothes was a note from de Vries himself.

(L/N), I have taken the liberty of getting rid of all the unnecessary clothes in your trunk and replacing them with more suitable attire for a Mentat. In your closet, you’ll find more of the same kind in the package.

De Vries.

What an asshole.

Quickly, you walked over to your closet and sure enough when you opened it. It was like the same outfit had been cloned over and over again. Black shirt, black pants, and a shiny black belt. Three pairs of black, leather dress shoes were in there too. At the back of the closet, there was a small amount of colder weather wear. A couple of insulated black coats and cloaks.

Unwillingly, you shed your bright clothes from the academy for a dreary uniform instead. The fabric of the shirt was silking and smooth, but the pants itched badly when it met your skin.

Once you were done, you exited your room to see two, bald headed, slave girls standing outside of your room.

“Why are you here?” You questioned.

“We are here to take you to the baron. Under the order of Mentat De Vries.” The girl on the left said timidly.

“Alright…” you whispered as you closed the door behind you.

As you walked through the halls of the Harkonnen’s castle you saw portraits of past rulers who were equally as bald as the next. After four minutes of walking, you ended up in front of a heavily guarded door. From outside the room, you could hear the sounds of yelling, screams, and a thud against the wall.

Remember, indifference, and then you’ll get your way.

You nodded toward the guard, signaling to him you were ready to enter the room. Slowly, the guard opened the heavy, metal door with a slight grunt. Walking inside, you saw a long table that had chairs on either side of it and a huge spread of food on top of it. But, there was only one chair at the head. The Baron was sitting there enjoying the elegant feast on the table.

For the baron… all that food.

You walked past important officials and advisors to Baron Harkonnen sitting in the chairs. You noticed De Vries sitting right next to the baron and opposite two bald headed men. These men were dressed not like the slave or advisors, but men of higher standing.

The baron’s nephews Count Glossu and Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Rabban.

Beside De Vries, there was an empty seat. As you walked to sit in that seat, you noticed the younger man who was sitting opposite of you, the Na-Baron, eyeing you down and biting his lips at the same time.

He probably picks the member of staff that gets eaten when a couple mess up. Is he imagining me fried or boiled?

“I appear to be late, I’m sorry about that, my baron.” You apologized as you pulled the chair out and sat. “Don’t be sorry, Mentat." The Na-Baron jested, "It’s not a good look for you.”

#dune x reader #dune #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #house harkonnen #mentat!reader #feyd x you

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arioloyal · 5 months

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Yayy you're taking requests now!! If I may, can you write one where Baldwin's health improves and every woman wants to try their luck with him. But he remains loyal to the one who was with him all the time.

I love it that the fandom is growing have more talented writers so thanks in advance 💕💕

Hi!. Thank you for your words♡. To be honest, the fandom activity has decreased recently, so I decided to start writing by myself. Although it doesn't get enough notice, I will try my best. I hope you like it💖

(King baldwin iv x reader oneshot)

Warning: mention of d×eath and blood, leprosy

[Persia empire- 1181]

...About 3 months had passed since my father's death and the time did not help. Millions of thoughts passed through my head every day. Did he die because of the heavy burden of my sins? Is this God's punishment?

This morning at sunrise I kissed my mother's hand and set off. I always heard from pilgrims who had returned that Jerusalem is the best place to ask for forgiveness.

I jumped on my black horse and galloped forward. My mother's tired face flashed in my mind like lightning for a moment and then went off. I knew she was worried about me, but honestly, I didn't saw any reason for her to worry. As far as I know, we should worry about those who are moving away from God and love, not those who are always moving quickly towards love and destiny.

I didn't know what was waiting for me in Jerusalem. But I was ready to embrace any destiny the holy land had for me. Even with all the difficulties and sorrows.

...the night before leaving home, I opened the windows of my room all the way. The smell of darkness filled the room. I sat under the flickering light of the candles while looking at a large mirror. I braided my hair, cleaning my skin and put the red robe and turban by my bed.

When I was done, I checked my face. It had become more tender and beautiful. I had nothing left from the past. Just for now, I was ready forever.

I went to my mother's room and asked her to pray for me. When she saw my new face, she said: "I see that your journey has changed you, even though it hasn't started yet.

I said: "Love is a journey. The traveler of this journey, whether she wants it or not, will change from head to toe. There is no one who goes this way and doesn't change."

My mother smiled faintly and called me. Then she gave me a wooden box. Inside the box were three things: a mirror with a silver frame, an embroidered silk handkerchief, and a crystal little glass.

:"These will help you on your journey. Whenever you need, use these. If you ever feel ugly and lose your self-confidence, this mirror will show you the beauty inside you. whenever You feel that have no credibility and you are alone, this silk handkerchief reminds you that the most important thing is the purity of heart and soul and that medicine inside the glass, which is very rare, can heal any wounds."

After I caressed these three things. I thanked my mother, kissed her hand and walked towards destiny...

[Jerusalem- 1183]

About two years have passed since I arrived in the Holy Land. I didn't even imagine that I would be able to stay here for so long, and that was thanks to the royal court, who let me in as an advisor and mentor. I would be lying if I said that all of them liked me. Lord Lusignan and his followers looked at me as a witch who has bewitched and trapped the king.

I talked day and night with the leper king, that wandering ghost of the palace who has not sat at the dinner table with his knights for years. He always challenged me mentally, which of course was not easy, but his peaceful nature was always behind his beautiful calming voice, which made me more fascinated by him day by day.

But I only came here to seek forgiveness from God, not anything else...

Fate took me to another place that I did not even imagine. I gave him all the contents of the box. Those three valuable things. I used that ointment in the glass for his wounds. That box was destined to have another owner.

it worked...

After weeks, the purulent wounds and infections dried up. i think he was feeling better

:"Gather all your strength. God will make better things for you," I said as I bandaged his arms.

:"God, doesn't know me." His eyes never stopped staring at me and even penetrated to my bones.

- : "Yes, but I do."...

The news of the King's recovery spread across borders and seas and reached Damascus, Syria, France and England. Almost every day, the nobles and their daughters came from far away to congratulate the king and presented him with all kinds of gifts. But they were surprisingly rejected by Baldwin iv.

:"... Right now, all these gifts should be sold to the merchants, only that small fund will remain. From the cost of selling these, grains should be prepared for the people."

Tiberias asked with a surprised expression: "Is there any problem, my lord?"

:"No...by the way, where is lady y/n?"

....

Tiberias's face closed like an iron door. The question that he was afraid of was finally asked...

:"Tiberias?!

- :"Lady y/n ...honestly.. she's not here anymore. She's gone." Words tumbled out of his mouth like incoherent puzzles.

:"What do you mean she's gone?"

Baldwin's breathing became heavier and his voice more frightening. After staring at the box for a few moments, he broke the silence again.

:"Take the letter that I'm writing to her and bring y/n back to me anyway. If necessary, search this land from stone to stone. Bring her to me. I'm begging you..."

...I had reached Damascus and decided to stay in the caravanserai temporarily tonight. I shouldn't have forgotten my goal and stayed in a place where I don't belong. But I am nervous at the thought of Baldwin's concern, but I don't think that there is any need for my presence, while those beautiful and noble girls are hanging around him.

:" Please don't forget your turn y/n!"

- :" Oh, I'm sorry. Yes..." I looked at the chess board. I used to play chess there with one of my old friends. The more I looked, the more I saw that I had no choice but to get closer to Checkmate. With a bold move, I moved my queen forward.

It was at that moment that I felt a shadow above me. I recognized him.

:"it's Nice to see you again, Tiberias.

I said without looking up from the chess board. He wasn't a man who wanted to talk indirectly or make excuses, but I honestly didn't expect him to find me so soon.

:"Please come back. He makes so many excuses. He asked me to look for you everywhere. I couldn't lie to him that you were gone forever and I couldn't find you. But anyway...

He asked me to give you this letter."

I glanced at the scroll that Tiberias had pulled out from under his black cloak and handed to me. I accepted it and started reading:

"...the beauty of Jerusalem, my ruler, my padishah, my sultana, my y/n.

I wish now that instead of the smell of blood and dirt, I could smell your beautiful hair to revive this half-dead body. You are the light of my dark nights. I desperately ask you to come back to me for the last time.

I inevitably marched to the border of Kerak to prevent a w*ar. I am alone and the fear of losing Jerusalem does not leave me, but the fear of losing you is much worse than that. I still hope that you will come back and heal the wounds of my heart and soul like before."

("Baldwin iv of Jerusalem")

#king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven #fandom #the leper king #art #artists on tumblr #movies #fanfic #fan fiction #imagine #pov #warm #x reader #fantasy #female reader

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lilimalia · 1 year

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REMINISCENCE // zhongli

SYNOPSIS... to remember the friends you had once loved so dearly, and to cry away the feelings you had wished you had left behind.

CHARACTERS... traveller/aether,, zhongli/morax,, streetward rambler,, madame ping,, cloud retainer

DISCLAIMERS... angst, no comfort, fem reader, short series, Part II

BARISTA'S INTEL... If you had signed up for Taglist, please make sure you put the right tag/handle in! And if you’ve changed your handle/tag resubmit an answer! Thank you 🍓

TAG LIST... @neverlandlostchild , @yae-raidenmyloves , @inky-oni , @milkiemei , @seyboo , @shaneelyn , @lumpywolf , @i-heart-dainsleif , @dartheldur , @simpcreator , @rjreins , @chuusposts , @thelonelyarchon , @i-loveyou013 , @iiyumii , @gellitu , @patchi-chi , @almighty-raiden-shogunate

CAFE TUNE... Space Song // Beach House !

The sound of Liyue fireworks resonates within your heart, watching as the young children of this new age dance like lotuses to water.

Breathing in the scent of the festivities, you gaze upon the flickering yellow lights that adorn the new Liyue. Listening to the blissful beauty of mortal exchange as the smell of tea brews beside you.

"And so you go by Madame Ping now Streetward Rambler?..."

The women, eyes solemnly gazing at you, nods to your remark. Her fragile body bending forward to hand you the warm stone cup. Rim glistening with pools of reflection as the scent dances up towards your nose.

"Is this... Silk Flower tea?..."

"Only the finest batch Duànzào." Madame Ping smiles, bent posture leaning towards the railings of the pavilion as you both gaze outward.

"You have much on your mind Streetward... Please, do speak." you murmur, hands clasping around the smooth stone cup as you breathed down the aromatic clouds.

"... Why is it that you have decided to return now?"

Her words stung like glaciers. Your heart chilling as you glanced away from her watchful gaze. Instead finding interest in the stone steps below.

"It was... A change out of my control..."

You can feel her hand soothe your back, taking it's place as it rubs up and down in a comforting manner.

"Cloud Retainer has missed you... I am sure they will welcome your return..."

No one was suppose to know

"One has heard their name being spouted. Who dares to gossip about one without one's presence?!"

"Ah... Haha! Cloud Retainer, what a joy to see you here"

"One has been advised to come and visit the New Liyue... So one has decided to ask how you fare Streetward Rambler". The crane bellows, magnificent wings retracting as she lands.

And yet you refuse to turn around. To gaze at your greatest councilor.

"Who is it that you speak with Streetward Rambler? They seem quite rude! It is an Adepti that is present mortal! Turn your head, although we do not withhold the same business with Liyue as before, you are to still treat us with respect!"

"Haha... Now, now, Cloud Retainer. That is no way to speak to an old friend now is it?"

Turning, your grey pupils lay eyes upon her own. Black beauties that glisten in the moonlight.

"It is good to see you again... Old friend"

Upon the Liyue night. Lanterns blazing, festivities murmuring joy into the air.

A god and her advisor meet once more.

If only it had been on more joyful terms.

"And so you had returned on account of the Adeptal Sealing breaking away at your power?"

"Yes... Unfortunately, it seems... that no Adepti creation will be able to handle a god's strength..."

"One believes it is a fortune that no such thing can! How dare you leave one all those years ago?!" Cloud Retainer chides, her voice raising in mocking irritation.

It raises a smile out of you, to see your old friend still the same as ever.

How long had it been since the three of you had stood on that balcony? An hour perhaps?... Or two? To think you had missed so much.

"One had begun to believe Duànzào had forgotten about ones self!"

"Oh really? Is that so? Hmph! Perhaps I should have! You always did spend your time going on and on about your sucesses instead of drinking Streetward- I mean Madame Pings tea! What a waste..." you smile, giggling as you held up the steaming tea to your lips.

Watching as your old friends gossip about good times, your heart stings.

It could have been three... had you been there faster.

Had you not have been stricken with jealousy.

Several hours pass, and with each, you are introduced with the new representatives of Liyue... A child, and two remarkable Adepti that seem glowing with youthful energy. And a traveler... One who's hair shines as bright as midnight stars. He seems to study you from afar.

Ever so often, he glances at his smaller companion, murmuring secrets you fail to understand.

But his eyes are ever so watchful, kept on you like a hawk, as you try your best to remain poise.

Alas, the night must end, always. And to that, you give your goodbyes and good thanks, strolling away in deep thought.

Your steps echo from the stone stairs, descending down from the patio. The sound of fireworks resounding across the midnight skies.

You aren't alone. You can feel.

"Is there something you would like to ask me Traveller?... It's quite rude to follow a lady without her acknowledgment you know..." You chuckle, turning your head around.

"One is offended that you Duànzào have mistaken one for a mortal! Hmph!"

"Ah.... Cloud Retainer... My apologies, I did not mean to offend you" you smirk, watching as the regal human walks towards you; arms folded.

"I suppose you have many questions...."

"Indeed, one does. One will not let this opportunity pass one. So, speak." It feels as though her voice is laced with venom.

Was it directed towards you?...

"I am sorry Cloud Retainer. It wasn't my intent to have to leave you that way." Your hands are rubbing up against each other uncomfortably. Yet that deceitful smile adorns your complexion.

"You know just as well as one does that this has nothing to do with your encaging years ago. One may appear to be noble and arrogant to some, but one is also watchful." Her words sting like a scorpion's tail, piercing your chest.

Like a dull punch. One you can't seem to cover up and hide away...

Maybe it's the falter in your act that gives her the hint. The way your turning your head away from her, refusing to face her directly.

" Duànzào, please. It was never your fault."

She's begging now. What for... You can't seem to determine. For you to face her directly? Or to break through your mental fortress...

She's stepping closer, her heels echoing. Blue eyes, solid and cold. Her hands suddenly clasp around yours. Enveloping them in warmth. A silent reassurance.

"One knows, it was never your fault, Duànzào."

You won't cry. You won't let it happen, not in front of her, and not infront of anyone.

Your efforts to run away, were pathetic, undeserving of forgiveness. You didn't deserve her remorse nor forgiveness...

But, the way that her arms wrap around your body, caressing you.

It's too tempting.

"One has decided."

"One will never let Duànzào fear the emotions that plague Duànzào's mind..."

"Your safe little one, safe by ones side."

Zhongli feels as though he's forgotten to breath.

It feels sinful listening in on them.

Why does his chest hurt so much? Why is it that, of the two women in front of him, one is his advisor.

His greatest weapon, weakness, and friend.

"Duànzào....? Your alive?"

Never before, has Zhongli been so grateful for his years of honing his voice. The confidence that it emitted, was far different from the feelings that come from his chest.

She hasn't turned around. And Cloud Retainers arms have wrapped around her harder.

"[Y/n]?...]"

SPECIAL BREWS... none available, sorry customer!

BARISTA'S INQUIREMENT... This was really hard for me to write... I feel like I didn't do as well this time around. I'd love your feedback!

word count. 1195

Tag List Form !

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©-FUTURIST... Please do not plagiarize, themes are edited by me, reblogs allowed, do not repost on any other platform!!

banner credits: @IllaOhara

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viiioca · 17 days

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Estelle de Laussienne

B A S I C S

Name Estelle de Laussienne (born Fauconnier)

Nicknames None in regular use; her adoptive brother uses "Essie" to get under her skin.

Age 24 (ARR) - 30 (Dawntrail)

Nameday 17th Sun of the 5th Astral Moon

Race Half Sea Wolf Roegadyn / Half Midlander Hyur

Gender Cis female

Orientation Bisexual

Profession Chirurgeon. She's a woman of many roles and skills, but only one professional license, though in another life -- say, in a non-WOL AU -- she might have wound up the Scions' "diplomatic advisor" (crisis manager and fixer).

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair Black; as of the end of Shadowbringers, salt-and-pepper with a shock of white in her bangs. Coarse curls are courtesy of her roegadyn heritage. She has never cut her hair ("long hair is a woman's glory" and all -- have you seen Halone's? You cannot convince me there's nothing in Halonic scripture about it) and mostly wears it pinned in complex updos.

Eyes A dark violet, inherited from her father.

Skin A light, rainy-day grey inherited largely from her mother, with her father's cool pink undertones.

Tattoos/scars Being a healer -- and a terrible patient -- Estelle has few scars of her own, as she takes care of her own injuries and prides herself in the sort of detailwork in her physicking that reduces or prevents scarring. Which means the ones she does have are from the wounds she was too incapacitated to heal herself, gnarly clusters of keloids and ragged hypertrophic slashes from effective but graceless emergency healing: sternum to hip from the fight with Elidibus at Ghimlyt; side to side across her belly from the fight with Zenos at the end of creation; and her oldest, a mottled burn scar around her left shoulder and collarbone from the dragon attack that took her parents. She keeps them glamoured when able and looks at them as little as possible.

F A M I L Y

Parents

Hermine Fauconnier Her roegadyn mother; the seneschal and right hand woman of House Laussienne, Hermine was in charge of its books, employees, and trade logistics, and her service in return won her family as stable, secure, and comfortable a lifestyle as a lowborn could wish for outside of the Church. Deceased.

Renaut Fauconnier Her hyuran father; a chirurgeon formerly of the Hospitaliers who transitioned into rural medicine as a traveling physician once he tired of the battlefield. Deceased.

Perette de Laussienne Her adoptive elezen mother; the head of House Laussienne and a shark in the waters of Ishgard's nobility who raised Estelle like she was her own daughter. For better or worse, Perette taught her much of what she knows. Deceased.

Siblings

Verain de Laussienne Estelle's adoptive brother. While they had a good relationship in their youth, a wedge formed not long into their teenage years when it became clear his mother's favor rested with a lowborn halfbreed. Still alive and currently head of House Laussienne, having been unceremoniously handed the reins when Estelle suddenly left Ishgard -- a fact that has done nothing to repair the rift between them.

Grandparents

None still living.

In-laws and Other

Over time, Estelle develops no shortage of family-like relations: Edmont, who regards her as a daughter; Alphinaud and Alisaie and Ryne, the little siblings she never had; the Scions, living together like a colony of stray cats. (And, though this is quite far in the future and something she would not want to think too much about even then, Lyna would technically be her daughter-in-law. The absolute dawning horror the first time Lyna calls her "grandmother" as a jest.)

Pets

Animals tend to like Estelle more than Estelle likes the concept of caring for an animal long-term, especially with how much she travels. The absolute closest she comes to owning a pet is spoiling the Rising Stones' resident ratcatchers.

S K I L L S

Abilities

Arcanima The cornerstone of her combat abilities and field "healing" (more like Preventative Medicine), which branches out into Allagan summoning as she spends the years between Heavensward and Dawntrail refining equations based on primal waveforms.

Medicine This includes everything in the typical Eorzean chirurgeon's skillset -- everything from general practice to surgery to autopsy is on the table (hah) -- as well as an alchemical background to synthesize and administer basic pharmacological treatments.

"Politics" The catch-all umbrella for her social skillset, Estelle relishes the networking, information gathering, and strategic maneuvering required to throw one's weight around in powerful circles.

Hobbies

Languages Though the Echo translates for her, it's still a rare and special skill regarded with suspicion in most corners of the world. Estelle enjoys picking up what she can of the local language in her travels to put people more at ease, especially as she wanders out to more rural locations.

Sketching/watercolors A skill picked up in a previous relationship, though her fondness for it far outlived her fondness for her lover. She finds it relaxing to draw and paint the sights in her travels, and she keeps extensive journals.

Cooking A domestic skill cultivated to a high level in the interest of being a "good wife" in her youth, turned into something of an obsession for learning new foods and techniques as she travels the world. Estelle delights in any occasion she has access to a stove and the opportunity to set a lively table.

Piano All young ladies of good breeding learn the arts during their education, and Estelle is no exception, though the piano is the only instrument that stuck. She enjoys playing when she finds the time, and a piano to actually play on.

"New skills" Estelle takes any opportunity to throw herself into doing something badly for the simple joy of trying something new. Most attempts to train for more physical skills like archery and swordplay fall under this category: things she'll likely never take seriously, but she enjoys using these moments to build new connections and relationships with her teachers.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Her friendliness. Estelle finds it natural to move into the lives of others and share their spaces, joys, grief, and problems; if she doesn't find success, it certainly isn't for a cold demeanor and lack of goodwill.

Most Negative Trait: Oh we've got a whole answer for this one. There is only so much friendliness can accomplish when Estelle does not accept the vulnerability of real connection.

L I K E S

Colors: Contrary to her severely black and mostly monochrome wardrobe, Estelle most enjoys dramatic, rich jewel tones and soft pastels.

Smells: The complex layers of an expensive, well-made perfume; fresh-cut jonquils; the chaos of food stalls in an open-air market; aspen woods in a crisp, fresh snow

Textures: Soft furs; the inner lining of a favorite pair of gloves; the smooth gloss of lacquered wood; the weighted feedback of ivory piano keys.

Drinks: A glass of well-aged dry red wine; coffee in the Ul'dahn style, unfiltered and highly sweetened, flavored with cardamom; Ishgardian tea, strong black leaves dressed with bergamot, steeped directly in hot milk and sweetened with buckwheat honey.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Yes, infrequently, and never socially; in times of high stress, she will smoke exactly one (1) cigarette when alone and thinking very deeply on something she wish she did not have to think deeply about, or when she needs to aggressively work over a problem in her mind. She's picky about her tobacco and prefers a Hannish clove-spiced blend. (Her case holds 20 cigarettes and the only time she's had to refill it because she's simply run out is during Endwalker.)

Drinks: Yes! All the time. I imagine Ishgard has a very robust drinking culture woven into most social rituals (alcohol features more prominently in Heavensward than nearly any other expansion except perhaps Endwalker) and Estelle is a very social creature. Of course there's an aperitif! And of course there is a glass or two of wine with dinner. And of course there must be a digestif. And of course there will be a nightcap as the evening winds down. She likely consumes more alcohol in a year than the rest of the Scions combined, and that includes that era where Thancred was getting trashed regularly to avoid coping with the Lahabrea situation. That said, she very rarely drinks alone, and almost never drinks with the intention to get inebriated.

Drugs: Nothing hard, but if someone hands her a bhang thandai during a festival in Radz-at-Han she's not going to turn it down.

Mount Issuance: For the same reasons Estelle doesn't keep a pet, she also doesn't keep a mount; she prefers to take carriages and ferries and airships, ride along with caravans, or rent chocobos. When she needs a pair of wings or to go somewhere she would feel guilty bringing a live animal, she relies on the sliver of his aether that Midgardsormr left with her to summon his form much the same way she might summon an egi.

Been Arrested: Estelle has spent most of her life being a law-abiding citizen. The amount of laws she's broken in the line of duty has spiked rather dramatically since joining the Scions, of course, as it turns out that subversive operations and overthrowing heads of state is illegal in those states, but good luck arresting her.

thank you for the tags @oneiroy, @ubejamjar, @ahollowgrave, and @idalenn!! i actually did a tag thing this time i did it i did the thing i was tagged to do

tagging……..@astralflows @menphinaswhitemage @archaiclumina @yloiseconeillants @rhotdornn @angelinecarax @fairygodpiggy @ilbers @mostlystarsandcandybars @caorann8 @morgana96 -- and anyone who hasn't been tagged yet!! i wanna read your lore

#ffxiv #my wol: estelle

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captain-mj · 24 days

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So the King Koenig (don't have german keys on my keyboard lol)?? With Horangi being his like?? Concubine I'm assuming since you said lover instead of husband?? Elaborate.

I said lover cause I hadn't decided, but let's go with concubine/courtesan <3

König hated peace meetings. Truly, he did. Right now the representative for the other side was rattling on and on, but they had a wandering gaze. It kept listing off to his right side where his lover was.

Horangi.

König looked at him and he couldn't blame the man for gazing. His mask was an elegant black shape with some red accents, covering the bottom half of his face. The hood on his robe had been pulled up to cover the rest of him, the only exception being his eyes. There was a gold collar around his pretty throat and gold bracelets on his wrists to signify that he was owned. Owned by König.

Despite being mostly covered, he was clearly a beautiful man. Beautiful dark eyes with such long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked.

"Should he be here?" They said softly, their displeasure clear.

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I don't believe we should bother a concubine with our discussions of politics."

König glanced at him, body tensing like a predator ready to pounce. For a glorious moment, he thought of ripping his jugular out. The man, despite his obvious chagrin, switched back to the topic at hand.

How dreadful. Was the poor man a eunuch? Could he not understand that after hours of this droll talk, he liked having handsome company to spend time with?

His mind started to wander to better things he could be doing. Like dragging Horangi to bed or kissing him or snuggling later.

As the meeting drew to close, the man asked him his thoughts. Only problem was König had tuned him out completely.

"One moment." He purred, trying not to let this guy know that. He tilted his head to Horangi who leaned up.

"Boils down to him getting a chunk of land for farming and you get access to a river we need to travel to the northern countries."

Another thing König loved about Horangi. He made things easy.

"I agree to the deal." König glared at the man. "I'll allow my advisors to talk over where the land is. I have more important matters to attend to." He got up and walked away, tugging Horangi by his hand.

Horangi moved quickly to his side to press into him. His arm went around Horangi's shoulders instead.

"My King, you really should pay more attention to things."

"It's boring." König groaned as he led them to his chambers. "I much prefer to have you do that. It interests you."

"Your advisors dislike your dependency on me. They believe I'm influencing you."

König pulled off his hood, loving the way Horangi's body instinctively relaxed and softened upon seeing his face. "Hong-jin, if you asked me to burn down every country I came across, I'd do it. I'd poison the rivers. Raze crops. Slaughter people." He kissed along his exposed wrists. "For your love, a kingdom seems small."

"I don't want that." Horangi chided. "I much prefer the violence you show in the field to the sadistic acts of a tyrant."

"Remind me to fight with my troops more." König sat back, treating the bed how he would a throne. His legs were open and his back straight. Power radiated off of him. It was all posturing, but it was undeniably effective.

Horangi slipped his robe off, leaving himself in just the jewelry. Besides the collar and bracelets, he did have necklaces and earrings in. Decorated. Along his hips were tattoos intertwined with scars that were made to resemble tiger stripes. His dark hair fell around his ears and spiked up, a mess from being put under a hood all day.

"Would you prefer if I rode you or should I lay down?" Horangi purred.

König swallowed. "Lay down for me."

Horangi slid past him and got on his knees, stretching and putting his ass on display for a moment before twisting and laying on his back.

König undid his belt, slowly sliding it from his loops. It hit the ground with a thud.

Horangi shivered a little and König wondered what he was thinking. The anticipation seemed to get to him as goosebumps broke out among his naked skin.

HIs shirt and pants fell on the ground not too long after. His giant hands ran along Horangi's inner thighs. "Beautiful."

Horangi smiled lazily. "My King, you know I don't like to wait."

"Not waiting. Savoring. There's a difference." He chided but he kissed him.

His legs wrapped around König's core and he rubbed against him, reveling in the skin against skin.

König held his legs open and got the special oil he kept specifically for Horangi. It smelled nice and it held heat easy. His fingers danced along his inner thighs until Horangi whined wordlessly. How could he continue to deny him when he sounded like that?

Carefully, he slid one of his fingers into his warm body. "So tight, Kätzchen. So small."

Horangi moaned and pushed back, desperate for it despite the burn. König put his hand on his lower back so he could feel Horangi roll his hips against him. Before long, he added another finger, loving the little mewls it got from him.

He reached deeper into him, stretching him out and preparing him thoroughly.

"Just put it in already." Horangi ordered, thrashing a little. "Want your cock. I don't need to be coddled."

"Prepped and coddled are very different things."

Horangi hissed at him and clawed at his shoulders. "Come on. Break me open. Don't you want to see me cry from it?"

König groaned. "Such a filthy mouth."

Horangi glowered before grinning viciously. "Fuck me like that representative wanted to. Fuck me like I'll finally shut up."

König flipped him over so his face was in the bed and yanked his hips up. With a smooth motion, he thrust into him, feeling more than hearing the squeak it forced out of Horangi. Despite Horangi's goading, he rocked into him to start, trying to make sure he wouldn't tear him.

The moment he was certain Horangi really could handle it, he pulled out until just the tip was in before shoving himself all the way back in. He grabbed him and forced him to bend further, sliding in as deep as he could.

"Just like that, 애인. Just like that." Horangi moaned sweetly, trying his best to get closer. His hand reached down and pressed at his lower stomach, intensifying the pressure for both of them.

König was a machine in bed. He didn't stop, didn't falter. He pulled all the way out every time, only occasionally stopping to grind into Horangi's prostate to get a few mewls out before going back to his thrusting.

His lips pressed against Horangi's shoulders and back, loving him dearly. His Horangi.

He switched his grip to instead pull him up and to his chest, thrusting up and into him.

Horangi clenched when he was deep inside, trying to please König. Pleasure sparked through him each time he could feel him bare down.

His thrusts sped up as he started to get close. "This what you wanted? Learn your place yet?"

Horangi nodded quickly and pressed further into him. "Just like that. I love you."

"I love you too." König whispered to him, stroking Horangi slowly. Horangi came hard and the fluttering of his tight hole dragged König over the edge. "I love you. I love you so much. My stars. My love. My heart."

Horangi bit into König's arm, tightening his grip as König fucked him through both of their orgasms. His legs had a slight tremble in them when he finally went limp and satisfied.

#Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II #cod #call of duty #Konig #König #Horangi #Körangi #König x Horangi #Horangi x König

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radiofreederry · 10 months

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Happy birthday, Kwame Ture! (June 29, 1941)

Born and credited in much of his early work as Stokely Carmichael, was a prominent civil rights campaigner, revolutionary socialist, and Pan-Africanist. Born in what was then the British colony of Trinidad and Tobago, Ture moved to Harlem at the age of 11, and became involved in political activism in high school, helping to boycott a local White Castle which refused to hire Black employees. In the 1960s, Ture became known as a prominent figure in the Civil Rights Movement, working with CORE in the Freedom Rides and organizing with SNCC. He grew dissatisfied with working with the Democratic Party through his experiences in the Civil Rights Movement, and turned to more radical politics. Influenced by the writings of Frantz Fanon and Malcom X, Ture came to embrace Black nationalism and Pan-Africanism as chairman of SNCC. Ture popularized the slogan "Black Power," and moved SNCC away from nonviolence as a central organizing principle. His activism made him a target of the FBI, which spread false information about Ture to tarnish his reputation and prevent a merger of SNCC and the Black Panther Party. Ture became an internationally-recognized figure, and he moved to Guinea in the late 1960s, where he became a student of Kwame Nkrumah and advisor to Ahmed Sekou Toure, renaming himself after them. The final decades of Ture's life were dedicated to organizing with the All-African People's Revolutionary Party globally, and traveled frequently to speak in favor of Pan-Africanism and socialism. He died in 1998 of prostate cancer.

“The job of a revolutionary is, of course, to overthrow unjust systems and replace them with just systems because a revolutionary understands this can only be done by the masses of the people. So, the task of the revolutionary is to organize the masses of the people, given the conditions of the Africans around the world who are disorganized, consequently, all my efforts are going to organizing people.”

#birthdays #kwame ture

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ragnvxndr · 2 years

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Welcome home

CapitanoXfem!reader

2.4k words

Smut, sweet to spicy to sweet, capitano worships his wife, oral-fem!recieving, nothing too crazy, just big sweet husband showing his wife he missed them :)

Please let me know if you guys want more??? I just cannot get him out of my head haha (not crazy im totally sane)

NSFW UNDER CUT

Six months. It had been six long months since Il Capitano had been to the manor. A recent mission had sent him to Natlan, leaving you behind to tend to the affairs. As he approached the estate on his horse, he took note of the soft blanket of snow that lay untouched on the manor grounds. Nobody stood at the entrance to receive him, as his arrival was unannounced. He had vowed to you to always keep you safe, to keep you hidden from the perilous aspects of his sworn duties to the Tsaritsa. Many a nights you had waited in the parlor, praying to Archons you doubted that they may keep him safe to return to you once more.

Silently, he dismounted his steed, tying its lead to the post for the stable hand to take care of later. The glass of the front doors were inky black, except for a pinpoint of warm orange glowing from somewhere far within the manor. Opening the heavy door, he breathed in the familiar scent of your shared home. The warm scent of mahogany, the fresh cecilias he had imported from Mondstadt for you weekly, it grounded him.

Home.

He stepped further into the threshold, closing the door behind him.

“My lord, I am glad to see you’ve returned in one piece. Shall I wake the staff? Surely you are famished after such a long trip back.”

Capitano turned his head, taking in the sight of his most trusted advisor, barely awake, yet still so eager to provide for the harbinger.

“There is no need. Please, Dmitriv, rest.” With the nod of his head, the advisor left down the darkened hall to the staff wing.

Silently, he undid the pins holding his thick coat to his uniform before placing it on the coat rack. Footsteps come from the direction Dmitriv left, and out emerges the young stablehand rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He freezes the second he realizes his master is standing between him and the door. Il Capitano breathes heavily in amusement, stepping to the side and letting the young man rush to tend to his steed.

Further into the estate he goes, heavy boots stepping into the plush carpet that lines the halls. Before your marriage, the manor was cold, echoing every small noise. After you became lady of the house, you breathed life into the once unwelcoming manor. In came carpets, rugs, plush furniture, and your warm personality. As Il Capitano saw it, you were the sun. He smiled to himself at the thought of your lips pulling into a smile, often teasing him for being so cliché.

His steps brought him to your shared room where he expected to see you fast asleep under the covers, your small figure somehow still managing to take up the majority of the large bed you shared. To his surprise, the room was empty, the bed made, and the curtains drawn back. The moonlight illuminated the empty bed, causing his heartstrings to tug at the absence of you. He closed the door quietly, head turning to look further down the hall. Warm light poured out from under the door to his study.

He crossed the distance with ease, pausing before the door with his hand on the handle. Would you be happy to see him? Would you be cross that he had been unable to write to you? Many thoughts flickered through his mind as he slowly turned the handle to his own study. The warm light of the fire place bathed the room in orange. Sitting on the chaise in the corner of the room was his entire world. You sat beneath a dark green blanket, a pile of books beside you, with an open volume in your lap. You wore a simple white nightgown, with one of the straps falling to expose where your neck and shoulder met. His eyes traveled further up your being, taking in the curve of your smile, right to your twinkling eyes.

“Welcome home, my love.” You whispered across the room.

Capitano reached up, removing his helmet and allowing you to see his face. You drank in the very sight of your husbands visage. Closing the book, you held out your arms to him. He quickly placed his helmet down and crossed the distance to you, desperate for your touch. He knelt before you, kissing the palm of your hand.

“My dove, how I’ve missed you.” He breathed into your hand, before closing his eyes and resting his cheek into your palm. You wasted no time in cradling his face with both of your hands, leaning down to kiss his forehead. You thumb over the scar on the left side of his face as you see the tension in his face fade.

He opened his eyes to take in your beauty. The fire cast shadows across his face, his left eye blinded white, the right a beautiful tawny brown. Your eyes trace his features as his do the same to yours. Reaching up, he covers your hands in his own, smiling when the two of you lock eyes. You draw his face to your own, ghosting your lips across his. Before pressing your lips to his, you smile and whisper, “I’ve missed you as well, my dear.”

Your husband takes initiative, impatient and needing to feel your lips on his own. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. Your eyes flutter shut as you melt into the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut as you allow yourself to be consumed by the kiss. You sigh, smiling against the warmth of his lips. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“Shall we retire, love?” you question. He kisses the tip of your nose and nods, picking up the book you discarded and places it at the top of the pile besides the chaise. You push the blanket to the side and swing your legs over the edge. Your nightgown has gathered around the top of your thighs, showing the plush skin on your legs.

Capitano’s breath catches in his throat as your skin glows in the light of the fire. One of his hands comes to rest on your knees, keeping you in place. Cocking your head in question, he meets your eyes. The look he gives you sends a chill to your core. He shifts from where he’s kneeling before you to in front of your legs. Gently, he slides his hand down your leg, before lifting your leg and placing featherlight kisses on your ankle above your slipper clad foot.

Your smile and sparkling gaze causes the stoic man below you to go into a haze. How he desperately missed your touch, your scent, everything about you. He continues to kiss up the length of your leg, stopping at your knee.

“Please, allow me this for just a while longer.” His breath fans across your skin as he places a lingering kiss to the inside of your knee, looking up at you through this lashes. You hum in acceptance as your beloved continues to worship your bare skin. You reach down to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. His hands are eager, they hungrily dance across your skin.

The soft leather of his traveling gloves ghosted over your calf. His jet black hair shone blue in the moonlight cast from the study windows. You leaned back against the downy pillows, sinking into the touch of your husband.

Suddenly, he hooks his hands under your legs and pulls your hips to the edge of the chaise. A slight gasp leaves your mouth, causing his eyes to flicker to yours. “My apologies, my dove. Allow me to make up for it.” His pupil is blown and dark, hungry. He sets your knees over his shoulders as he kisses your inner thighs, worshipping every inch you allow him. He reaches where the hem of your nightgown rested against your thighs. “May I?” He spoke against your skin.

“You may.” It came out breathier, needier than you meant.

His hands fold the fabric back, exposing your underwear. He kissed further and further, inch by inch, up your leg until he reached your core. His eyes flickered up to yours once more, his very gaze told you everything you needed to know. He kissed over your clothed cunt, before hooking his fingers through the waist bands and tugging them down. You lifted your hips to help him shimmy them down, desperate for his touch.

Within seconds of your garment being removed, he was back between your thighs. His leather clad fingers dug into your thighs, repositioning your hips so he could take in all of you as your hands held the skirt of your nightgown back for him. “Gorgeous.” He looked up at you, taking in the flush of your cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of your chest. Placing a final kiss to your inner thigh, his lips traveled to your sex. A featherlight kiss was placed on your clit, the very feeling sending a thousand butterflies through your body. He placed another kiss to the bundle of nerves, deepening the kiss.

Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed down at him. He was intent on worshipping every inch of you, intent on showing you how much he missed you, how he couldn’t get your intoxicating taste out of his mind. He flattened his tongue and licked from your hole to your clit, causing you to shiver under his touch. Enjoying your reaction, he repeated the action, again and again until he could taste your sweet nectar. What were once gentle licks soon became sloppy, needy, fully intent on drinking in every drop of what you had to give.

Your hand clasped to your mouth, head thrown back, relishing in the pleasure your husband was giving you. One of his hands left your leg as he withdrew from your heat, causing you to gaze down at him. His chin glistened with your juices as he took the tip of his finger in his teeth, removing the glove. “The light of my life, I have thought about you every second of every day since I was last in your embrace. I promise to make up the time I was away.” He promised you before returning to your core. Collecting some of your nectar on his finger, he drew tiny circle on your clit, all the while using his tongue on your hole. You sighed contentedly from the pleasure your were feeling. You watched as he drew his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them while holding your gaze. He didn’t break eye contact as he dropped his saliva coated finger back to your cunt, tracing the smallest of circles around your hole. Bending forward, his fiery gaze held you captive as his tongue returned to your bundle of nerves, sinking a finger into your cunt.

Your eyes flutter shut from the pleasure you were feeling. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you as you breathed a sigh of content. One of your hands left your nightgown and found purchase in his silky hair. Carding your fingers through his locks earned you a noise somewhere between a hum and a growl. Waves of electricity danced through your nerves at the blissful feeling. Slowly, he added a second finger, all the while lapping your clit while his tongue. Your hips stuttered at the full feeling he was giving you.

You began to scratch his scalp with your nails. “Oh, please... It feels so good. Oh-” You breathed. Your praise drove him wild, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently. The small gasps coming from you got louder and louder, causing him to start curling his fingers in your cunt. His fingers continued to rub against your g-spot, your body heating up with every stroke. Your hands began to tug at his hair and your thighs threatened to trap his head between your legs.

His lips broke from your sex while his free hand gripped your thigh hard enough you were sure it would bruise. “Stay. Still.” He growled, eyes dark with a primal lust. A wave crashed through your chest, his need for you making your heart swell. He returned to your sex, fingers never having stilled. Breathy moans left your mouth as he continued to worship you.

A third finger entered entered your weeping core, causing you to gasp. The hand gripping your thigh still released you, only to rest on your stomach. He slowly began to add pressure, and between that and the assault on your core, you began to feel yourself unravel.

Your husband looked up at you, “Please, come for me.” He spoke before returning his mouth to your bud.

A blinding wave of pleasure washed over you, causing you to clamp down on his fingers. He hummed in approval against your core as your fingers grasped at his hair. “Oh please! Yes, thank you, thank you!” You cried out, rocking your hips against his mouth.

“Good girl, let go my love, I have you.” He whispered as you continued to grind against his fingers. As you began coming down from your high, he left opened mouth kisses to your inner thighs, helping to ground you. He gently placed your legs down. Your heart hammered against your chest as your tried to even your breathing.

A sleepy smile graced your features as he looked at you like you placed the stars. Sitting up, he placed a sweet kiss to your lips, his swollen lips tasting of you. He sat back, running his hands back down your body, eliciting a shiver from you. He placed a kiss to your ankle before removing your slipper.

Gently, he rubbed your feet. “How are you feeling, my dove?” He smiled up at you.

You gazed as him with the sweetest smile. “I am much better now that you are home. Shall we head to bed now?”

His smile grew as his eyes twinkled at you. “Of course, my heart. Shall I carry you to bed?” He placed your slipper back on your foot before gently picking you up and drawing you near.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed kisses along his jaw before planting a final one on the corner of his mouth. You felt safe in his arms as he escorted you back to your shared room, content he had returned home to you finally.

an: do yall want another one of these? is this good or is this dumb? this is my first fic lol idk what im doing, no thoughts only horny

#capitano #il capitano #il capitano genshin #capitano genshin #capitano smut #il capitano smut #genshin smut #afab reader #sweet smut #mdni #fatui smut #capitano x reader

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rainycat2 · 1 year

Text

dare not say that a man forgets sooner; i have loved none but you

The Dead on Main fanfic I promised. AO3 link here! First chapter is short.

(Edit 3/6/23 for clarity)

Chapter One: The Invite

Constantine knew that, on occasion, he had the seemingly-supernatural ability to get himself into some really, truly, utterly bonkers situations. Being a magician in the first place would be a good starting place, much less having effectively escaped death itself by selling his soul sixty ways to Sunday.

But this?

This was the shit frosting on the particularly radioactive, glowing-green shit cake.

Really, his day had been going pretty well before all of this happened. Comparatively. There hadn’t been any major crises or bullshit that he’d been dragged into, or forced to consult on. The only thing on his docket was the meeting at the Watchtower he was being “asked” to “advise” on, regarding a JLD matter that had the potential to need the daylight League. See, he knew it wasn’t necessary, but the damn Bat was so paranoid he’d jump at a shadow if it so much as flickered the wrong way, so.

Watchtower it was.

The meeting had progressed relatively normally, to his relief, but close to the end, right when he’d started considering actually lighting the cigarette that dangled between his teeth, right when he’d started properly zoning out… power zipped down his spine, shocking him into sitting straight up. Cold shot down his arms, gooseflesh rising at the sensation as he blinked, then cursed. Captain Marvel shot up as well, looking around like he’d been hit over the head with a pan.

Death magic.

“Get back from the table, you bloody-!” Before he could even finish the curse, a glowing green hole in goddamned reality ripped open in front of his eyes, hovering above the table. It hurt to look at, frankly, the sickly neon green turning to black to green to purple to white to green--

Augh, Jesus. He tore his eyes away before the not-fully-in-reality hole could melt his brain. “Don’t look at the damn thing,” he barked, shielding his eyes slightly with a hand.

“What is it,” Bats growled, every line in his posture screaming defense, tenseness, ready to fight.

“It’s-”

A sharp, comical, almost cartoonish pop hit their ears, once again cutting the Brit off as two envelopes fluttered to the meeting room table, the hole in reality just. Disappearing. There one second, gone the next before he could even process.

Constantine sighed heavily, taking a long, long swig from the flask tucked into his coat pocket before he examined the letter, noting the swirling black script addressed to him. Well, nothing really to lose, he noted, picking it up and breaking the seal quickly.

To John Constantine, Tenant of the House of Mystery, Master of the Arcane Arts, Deceiver of Death, and all other titles that he Lay Claim to;

His High Majesty of the Infinite Realms, of Purgatory, of the Underworld and all other names through History and Time, High King Daniel Phantom, Balance of Life and Death, Champion of All, Ancient of Space, requests your presence at the upcoming Samhain Ball.

Attire is black-tie, masks are optional, and weapons are restricted. All souls upon acceptance of this invitation shall be bound to an oath of peace for the duration of the Ball, which shall last one Earth day, twenty-four hours, or one rotation of the Planet Earth orbiting Sol in the Milky Way Galaxy.

Accommodations for all who request it shall be made in the King’s Keep in the Infinite Realms, with travel, food, and all other necessary needs provided.

The Samhain Ball is dated to October 31st, 20XX to the early morning of November 1st, 20XX.

Please either accept or decline this invitation by October 5th, 20XX so the appropriate accommodations can be arranged.

-Their Excellency, Ancient of Time, Former Consort of King Pariah Dark, Advisor to the King, Lord Clockwork of the Infinite Realms

“...shit."

#dead on main #danny x jason #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc #ghost king danny #arranged marriage au #royal politics nonsense #my fanfic writing #gonna import the other dpxdc fanfic im working on soon #anyway catch y'all later #pls give feedback if you wish #canon is my playground and i am a chunky toddler with a sandcastle pail

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themotherofblood · 1 year

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Did I Take It Too Far

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Tears of Gold - 27

The sun had found it’s way to the Red Keep this morning, allowing for some warmth in the chilled cold morning winds. You’d sat out in your gardens alone this morning since your sons had decided to sleep for longer. Your plants luckily hadn’t withered yet, many at court believed it was your good heart and some whispered rumours of greenseers and black magic.

You’d basked in the warmth of the sun as your uncle sat across from you, scribbling away at the many parchments of poetry he wrote for his daughters. He’d even written in for you, a slightly macabre one, it spoke of blood and lost time yet symbolically beautiful.

“Your husband has named me judge, for Tyrion Lannister’s trial.” Oberyn wiped the ink from his hands.

“So I’ve been told. I suppose you have earned your vengeance. Even though it is the wrong Lannister.” You shrugged, still packing soil in the clay pots.

“Would you rather I kill your husband?”

“Uncle…” You shook your head at his antics.

“Just giving you the option darling.” He smirked at his jokes.

The trial often scared you, you knew it in your heart and soul that Tyrion had not killed Joffrey, for one thing; he had nothing to gain from it, other than petty vengeance which brought you too the other fact; Tyrion was far too cunning to leave suspects if he truly murdered his nephew. Your husband however wanted to see none of said facts, he was biased and the seven hells know he wanted Tyrion dead.

“My lady, my lord, there has been summons for a council meeting.” Podrick bowed infrint if you and Oberyn.

At the behest of Tyrion, you had taken Podrick as a squire for Fredrick, he might finally teach the boy how to fight. However his loyalty made you want to command Fredrick in knighting him.

You walked with Oberyn to the council meeting, he helped you up the stairs of the tower, needing to take short breaks in between. Your husband much aware of your condition appeared to have no ill regard towards your tardy appearance. You sat onto your chair, letting if a sigh of relief as you rubbed your growing belly, Cersei as usually held a disapproving glare towards the members of the council.

“There is an urgent matter to be discussed, my lord.” Lord Varys spoke first. “The Targaryen girl in the East seems to have survived, she is also rumoured to be travelling with three baby dragons, and her last whereabouts are reported to be Qarth.”

“Then we hire better assains for the job, I'm sure the master of coun can facilitate for such an amount.” Cersei looked at you with a sneer on her face.

“Last I was told, she was a child? I don't she has grown in the past summer. What are the five and ten? A child!” You shook your head in disapproval.

“She has two advisors at her side and a small horde of Dothraki,” Varys informs the council,

“And Dragons.” Cersei added

“Baby Dragons,” You corrected her “It would be years before they’d be large enough for her to ride.” You claimed, highly irked by being asked to facilitate the murder of a child.

“What of Mormont? Was he not spying upon the girl for the crown.” Tywin questioned

“He seems to be loyal to her cause, my lord.” Varys informed your husband.

The subject of the murder of Daenerys Targaryen was dropped for your sake, you were sure they would try to sway you once more to hire assassins; from your knowledge the girl held her household in Qarth with no intentions of conquering Westeros.

Your husband’s head however, she would be just another name in the hordes of people that wanted Lord Tywin Lannister dead.

You had proclaimed for another lunch, much to discuss about Tommen’s ascension as the Tyrell’s fell into yours and Tywin’s scheme of increasing their support and dowry. Margerey would be set to wed the boy after an appropriate mourning for her unconsummated marriage.

In attendance were you and your husband sat at the heads of the tables, Cersei along with Tommen and your uncle Oberyn with Ellaria. An effort to dwindle the turmoil between the families. A smaller yet awkward conversation ensued with hard tried responses, you hoped no one would begin talks of politicking; the best way to begin yet another argument within the Martell’s and Lannister’s

“She was to sail to Essos, before…the wedding.” Oberyn snidely remarked, enjoying his third cup of wine. His tolerance to it was rather unmatched, he would put Tyrion to shame

“Essos is it?” Tywin looked to you, giving you a civil nod to elaborate further.

“We have a family manse there, Summer Shore. In fact, you should take Myrcella there. I’ve heard the waters there are glorious.” You smiled at your uncle.

“A whore’s city no doubt?” Cersei grumbled as she sipped on her goblet, looking at Oberyn unimpressed.

“Our ancestors had the palace and city built.” You defended, sounding offended at her remarks.

“A woman wasn’t she? A Targaryen courtesan?” Cersei sneered, clearly making attempts to undermine your blood

“Some believed she was a Queen, riding a three headed horse.” Oberyn glared at her.

“The histories are a fickle thing, my lady. Some believe the Mad King had bed every lady for the vassal house.” Ellaria japed, clearly making a remark about Joanna. That is where Tywin drew the line as his hand clenched into his goblet. Clearly the mistreatment of his late wife at court was a highly sensitive matter.

You had found yourself in your own chambers later in the evening, sipping onto a tea laced with minuscule amounts of milk of the poppy. You entire body had began to ache yet again, still battling the effects of your sixth month. Your handmaidens had been rather helpful with your sons, it hurt your surely about not being able to mother them yourself and yet your body would give out from the council meetings and the reports from the city watch.

“The aches have returned?” You husband’s voice boomed from behind you, the grimace on your face turned to a pained smile, shuffling your feet off the chaise of him to sit. He waved you off, letting your feet rest on his lap as he reached forward to rest his palm against your bum.

“I have called for advanced surgeons from Essos.” He looked over your pained state.

“We have Pycelle…?” You frowned and yet remained grateful at your husbands efforts to remedy your discomforts.

“That old stout seems to be incapable of determining your condition, he says you are well which any daft person could give you one look and know that you are suffering.” Tywin complained, as his other hand rubbed up and down your calf.

“My mother laboured for my birth too,” you reassured him, however you to feared the birthing bed this time. “I have enough fight in me to put King Jahereys’s seed to shame.” You japed

“Dear god, I have three that I can barely tolerate, two that insist in throwing food at one another and you want another eleven?” Tywin scoffed, the corners of his lips curling up.

“I apologise for what my aunt said at the lunch.” You face fell into an apologetic gleam, as your reached forward to rest your hands atop his palm.

“She had not mentioned something I haven’t heard a hundred times over.” Tywin dismissed you sympathy, fussing over a cushion and placing it behind your back.

“Which brings me to…” Tywin shakes his head in frustration “You are to remain abed during Joffrey’s tombing and Tommen’s nuptials.”

“What! I can’t- Tywin those responsibilities would fall to me considering Cersei ever works.” You huffed in annoyance.

“No- this is my final word Y/N, other than council meetings and if you wish to promenade. No further responsibilities other than looking after yourself.” He commanded, your pleading eyes unmoving of his decision.

“What of the trial? I am on the council.” You argued.

“You are unwell, other might foolishly drown in your pretences; I do not.” He shook his head, much of his frustrations radiating off of him.

“I know, it helps me to think otherwise,” you reasoned “For I know if I sat here toiling in pain my mind will begin to believe the tragedy bestowed upon me.”

“And what is that tragedy?”

You gave him a look of knowing annoyance, he was clearly aware of what your were insinuating and yet pretended to be deaf.

“If this babe should- if I would survive.”

After months of considering the possibilities you had finally voiced your fears, nipping at your lower lip ad Tywin’s frown deepened.

“Nothing is going to happen to you, or this babe.” He proclaimed like his word was gospel.

You spent that night curled in your own bed, shuffling and huffing unable to sleep, even Tywin read through nearly the end of Joanquil and her knights as you struggled to find slumber. Somewhere along the night, his body had caved to his exhaustion, you stared at his face as you mindlessly rubbed your belly, afraid of future possibilities.

You did not want to lose this child however you did not want to lose your life either. You’ve barely lived, barely fought for your ground, barely loved someone and mothered his children. You thought of your sons, wondering if the birthing bed did indeed take you. Would Tywin be cruel to them as well? Should the child that might rip through your womb survive, would he torment it too?

You had to live, for the sake of this child and your sons. You had to will strength into your body for the gods could only ponder on the question of what Tywin Lannister might become after losing yet another wife.

#Spotify #tywinlannisterxyou #tywin lannister x you #tywin lannister smut #tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #tywin lannister x oc #tywin imagine #house lannister

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moonlightazriel · 1 year

Text

Son of the Darkness /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: None for this chapter

Word Count: 2K

Notes: Welcome to the first chapter of this literal dream hahaha I really hope you guys can enjoy this fic.

Son of the darkness masterlist

Main Masterlist

The female rushed through the dark hallways, the soft rustle of her nightgown and the sound of her bare feet on the marble floor echoing on the walls, the light peeking from under Loralen’s door, the High Lord of The Court Of Shadows, her hands pushing the double doors open as she entered the room, the weak figure of her Lord laying peacefully in bed, his hazel eyes landing on the young general, one of the few people he trusted.

“Sweet Y/N, I don’t think I will be able to stay in this life much longer.” The old fae held Y/N’s hand, she sat by his side, her eyes filled with tears as she watched how his chest barely moved when he breathed, more than a High Lord, he was like a father to her, have taken care of her when her mother, the previous general, and war advisor, died in battle. “You need to go and find my grandson, my daughter Eletha ran away from home many centuries ago, and with her death, the crown will be his.”

“But where do I find him?” She knew that the High Lord’s daughter had disappeared even before she was born, and in the 450 years she’d been alive, no one had a clue of where she might be.

“I’ve been sending spies to try and locate them, I didn’t tell you because I knew you would try to take matters into your own hands and look for them yourself, but now you’re the only one who can find him, we can’t leave this court without its ruler. The last thing they were able to find is that Eletha died and left a son, he lives somewhere in the continent of Prythian, I know you never left our home, but you’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Y/N nodded, she was loyal to her court and her home, if the High Lord thought that she was the only capable of doing this mission, she would go, he gave a few more details, about what the boy might look like and where he might be, Y/N was going to follow rumors and she hoped that they were true, for the sake of her court.

On the next day, she was ready to leave, her horse was straddled with her bags, and she had the royal seal on her chest, indicating that this was an official mission, she was wearing her black pants with high boots, a leathery long-sleeved shirt with a corset and her holsters, where her dagger rested peacefully on her tight, on her back, two long swords and a heavy cloak covering her body, her long silky black hair braided behind her back.

Midnight puff with her nose, the black mare ready to leave as Y/N jumped on top of her, her big hooves pounding against the floor as the two started their journey. It was a five-day journey until she reached the border, once there, she would have to travel by ship until she got to Prythian’s border, on what’s known to be the Autumn Court, there she would have to go all the way up to the Night Court and pray to the Mother that she’s lucky enough to find the boy.

The Shadows territory was the biggest one, in the war for human freedom, the Nightfall army was almost erased, being among the fiercest defenders of mortal liberty, all the enemies turned their weapons their way, after the war, Loralen had so much work to do in rebuilding their strength and defending his people, so with the help of the great Sephiran coven, the seven witches made a spell, covering the territory in darkness, those who didn’t know would think that nothing exists, but as the years passed, they rose again, the Nightfall army was bigger than it has ever been and people were protected. Hiding wasn’t a weak move as some may think, hiding was necessary, and the High Lord wouldn’t allow his people to suffer from hunger and sickness ever again.

Every place she went, people were more than happy to receive her, the respected General and High Lord’s protege, she was kind to the people but ruthless on the battlefield, Y/N stayed with some families along the way, they gave her more food to continue her journey, and as she noticed, she was almost in Prythian. The ship would shake her stomach in every direction, making her feel a little restless as she admired the view, even if she traveled all the Court’s territory, she had never been this far away from her home.

“Be careful, some say that these forests are cursed and they devour those who don’t belong here.” The captain of the ship warned her two days later as she grabbed Midnight’s reins and walked out of the ship, she had a map with her, to guide her around, she took a look at it before she motioned for the mare to start to walk, as the pair entered the forest, she felt a weird sensation creeping in the back of her mind like something was watching her, she lifted the hood of her cloak, hiding her face and then grabbing her dagger.

As the day gave space to the night, she decided to stop, making a fire and taking some of the food, she sat, watching the fire pit, the flames dancing from one side to another, that same feeling of being observed now stronger as the flames grew, she quickly got up, stepping away from them, the heat so strong that almost burned her skin, she reached for one of her swords, whatever it was, should be easy to deal with.

“What are you doing here?” A male voice sounded from the darkness in front of her, she focused her gaze in the direction that the sound came from, and as the darkness seemed to dissipate she was able to spot the figure standing in the dark, the male was tall and slim, something told her that it was him messing with her fire, she moved her arm, seeing his shape perfectly leaning on a tree, she threw it, the blade pinning him in place while she extended one of her hands, the mist of shadows started to appear in her palm, like a river, they flowed until they reached him, she was feeling really good today, so she only took away his vision.

“WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?” The male growled angrily as she approached him, his face moving in each direction trying to see something.

“If you’ll be a good male and give me the information I need, I might give your vision back.” She stood close to him, removing her dagger and dragging the male closer to the fire, he had white skin and bright red hair, unlike the majority of her people that had different shades of black hair, it was so beautiful.

“Why would I help you, stranger?” He sarcastically laughed, he was confident even when he didn’t have the upper hand.

“Because I can make this permanent, and you’ll be wandering around, blind for eternity.” She taunted and he stiffed, he was starting to take her words very seriously. “I need to go to the Night Court, do you know any quick way to get there?” The male’s face contorted into an angry expression once more.

“Of course, you would be a Night Court freak, my father will enjoy knowing that Rhysand is allowing his pets to run freely in other courts.” The disgust was evident in the redheaded male and Y/N wondered what might have happened between them for such hatred towards the unknown male.

“Watch your mouth or I could take that away from you too.” She warned. “The sooner you help me, the sooner you’ll be free and I’ll be out of your way.” She paced around him, leaving him confused, her location a mystery to him.

“There are some hidden spaces between the folds of space and time that can take you there, I know one that is close to here, I can take you there. But give me back my vision.” He demanded, Y/N looked at the desperate male, the way his eyes flickered in every direction, and then the mist Around him was gone, his eyes focused on her.

“Don’t try anything funny or I’m killing you.” She simply said, her expression blank as she moved to get her things. “And we're going now. So get up.”

“So bossy. Are you like this in bed too?” The male asked, a cocky smirk on his lips as she rolled her eyes, long ago she had discovered that her silence was more powerful to mess with male ego than snapping back, so she kept quiet, her things ready to leave. “I’m Eris, do I get to know your name?”

“Knowing my name will make you walk faster?” His smirk grew as he looked at her up and down, and he nodded slowly. “I’m Daera. Now walk!” Eris did as he was told, afraid that she would take away any more of his senses, they weren’t that far away from the portal, only thirty minutes walking and they would be there.

She kept a close eye on him as they walked, he was holding a bright flame in his hand, illuminating the way, she could walk perfectly fine in the dark, one of the few abilities she inherited from her people, they were able to see a little bit better in the dark than other people, and this was always a vantage for her. Eris stopped in front of nothing and she rose an eyebrow.

“It’s here, if you walk a little further you will find it.”

“Then go ahead.” She pointed her dagger to him and Eris held his hand up in defeat.

“I can’t simply go in another court territory like you, and I’m not in the mood to bring problems to my father. So I can only go this far, and have fun on the other side.” Eris finished, already turning his back to her, winnowing away as he did so, leaving the scent of burned wood behind. She sighed, walking to where he pointed, at first she didn’t see anything, but as she walked she saw a path, she climbed Midnight’s back, hitting her belly softly with her feet, the animal sprinting along the way. She didn’t know how long the two walked but she finally came to an end, reaching an open field, the night sky almost gone as a new day began.

She had no idea of where she was, and as she walked, the only thing she could see was green prairies on every side, she huffed annoyed, stopping at a lake to drink water and eat something, the mare drank water and Y/N fed her with apples.

“Ugh, I think we’re lost, I should’ve asked for Evanore’s help with some kind of locating spell.” Midnight looked at her and she closed her eyes, feeling her shoulders heavy with tiredness. Evanore was the youngest of the seven from the Sephiran coven, and Y/N’s best friend for as long she can remember, but there was some information that she couldn’t share even with her, she wished she could have brought her friend with her.

Eva was kind, and a really powerful witch, her healing powers were the strongest she has ever seen, her sisters kept her hidden from those who wanted to use her for evil, her powers were able to bring people back from death, and if this kind of power fell in the wrong hands, the consequences could be devastating. Y/N reached for the protection pendant that Eva gave her, the blue stone calming her restless mind and bringing her some comfort as she got walking again, it was like her best friend was there with her.

Y/N and Midnight walked for days until they found something, or better yet, something found her, she was resting, heating her hands in a makeshift fireplace, it was night, the Night Court sky was really beautiful, the stars shone bright, and each one unique, she counted three shooting stars as she observed the sky, her eyes feeling heavy as she drifted slowly to sleep, too tired to pay attention to her surroundings, if she paid enough attention, she would’ve seen the two figures looming in the dark.

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar #sarahjmaas #shadowsinger #moonlightazriel #a court of mist and fury #son of the darkness #azriel x y/n

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noirbriar · 2 months

Text

Glorestor: 5 Times They Denied (1)

+ 1 time They Did Not.

Its t-t-time for more ramblings from me

From the POVs of the various folks around the 2 elves who are convinced they are courting, or betrothed, even though they were told otherwise. Starting off we have Erenion Gil-Galad.

--- 1] Gil-Galad

Erenion prides himself as an observant individual.He has to, as High King and ruler of Lindon. Especially with a large overly complicated court such as his.Even more so now with whispers of darkness rising quickly upon Arda once more. Now proven true by word from Cirdan, who is arriving to Lindon with an emissary of the Valar. The crown he bears is getting heavier, but Erenion trudges forward still, as he sits upon the throne with his Herald beside him.As he awaits for the arrival of their important guest.

The welcoming horns sound as the grand doors to his throne room opens, time crawling as each creak forces his court's mumbles to cease. "Lord Cirdan of Mithlond!And- ah! T-the - Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower!"

His court is now in uproar, whispers and gasps flying across his hall as the newly arrived Lords greets him. Dressed in simple traveling garb with long golden tresses flowing past his shoulders, a gentle light emanates from his being.This is the balrog slayer reborn, by the grace of the Valar.

As Cirdan ends his introduction, Glorfindel steps forward,the strong tenor resounds clearly in his hall, announcing himself and delivering words of his duty from the Valar. At the same time, Erenion begins to ponder in his mind.Even with Cirdan here to vouch for his identity, a skeptical part of the King wonders if he is truly Glorfindel of the legend with little to none of Gondolin survivors remaining-

"...Its truly him." The accented quenya was barely a whisper amongst the humming noise of his court, and the High King had to stop himself from physically turning to the voice coming from behind Elrond. From his Herald's advisor and shadow, Erestor.

And it seemed he was not the only one to notice the old feanorian general either as he notices Glorfindel's gaze was not at him now, but to where his Herald was- Dear Eru above...what is this?

---

"I give my thanks, Your Majesty, for this feast in my honour. Even though I wish my arrival was with better news-" Glorfindel bows humbly, the sindarin flowing stiffly from the Lord. A glass of cold wine in hand as he addresses the High King in the quiet alcove away from the crowd.

"Do not dwell on this, Lord Glorfindel, be at ease. It is with you here that we are now embolden, and ready for what may be ahead." Erenion smiles, noticing the uneasiness of the warrior. It looks like the Golden Lord is having a hard time in this strange era, and sadly, it shows.

Every elf who has heard the songs and tales of Gondolin had been so eager to meet Glorfindel and in return, the famed Lord of old returns each greeting kindly without pause with a smile. Though over the days, there is an air of detachment and emptiness he senses from him as time drags on.

It seems unfortunately, politics will soon claim another victim first before even darkness approaches.Yet there is little Erenion is able to do to ease the weary elf reborn. There is an awkward air but thankfully, Elrond approaches the duo. His entrance as timely as ever, dressed in elegant earthy hues that he favours.His ever dutiful guard trailing behind draped in his usual black and a touch of silver jewellery, almost as an afterthought for the festivity.

"Your Majesty! My Lord! I hope everything is well! " Ah, that eyebrow was a sign that his Herald is rather displeased that his King have abandoned him to the wargs that are the new Ladies of his court eager for their King's attention.

He'll get over it.

"Indeed, we are just taking time to acquaint ourselves better, Elrond. Come, join us." Erenion greets joyfully, "You both have met but we had hardly the time for more with all the dreadful meetings back to back for weeks!" "And I'm certain my Grandmother Idril and my father Earendil will be horrified by my lack of manners too! For Lord Glorfindel will always and forever be, a honoured elf in my family." Elrond adds with a light polite laugh.

"It is I, who is blessed to meet the grandson of my once liege Turgon and son of my dear friend, Idril." Glorfindel replies lightly before quietly withdrawing back into himself as inconspicuously as possible.

A soft cough brings the 3 high born elves' attention to their fourth.

"Ah!And look how terribly remiss I have been in my manners! Rude I am once again to have missed out in introductions. Lord Glorfindel, this here is Erestor, my faithful assistant and advisor."

Erestor steps forward and bows in greeting. While Glorfindel stares at the shorter elf in wonder.

"Ai! Don't be fooled by his quietness, this one has a sharp tongue, let me tell you that." Erenion quips wryly, in effort to lighten the unusal mood. "I believe you both might be acquainted?"

It was a peculiar thing Erenion had wondered since Elrond has mentioned that evening after Glorfindel's arrival. Was the fact that his advisor off handedly mentioned he recognises the Lord of the Golden Flower and is absolutely certain of his identity. The first though that immediately came to mind is that the two interesting individuals apparently have a history-

"We aren't." Erestor's accented quenya shakes both the King and Herald out of their little popped bubble, like eager birds appalled as they watch their seed bowl stolen away right before their very eyes. "Erestor...? Erestor." Glorfindel finally whispers under his breath, as if he is trying out the feanorian's name on his tongue, " So that is who you are. We finally meet, Lord Erestor."

"I am but no lord, Lord Glorfindel. Though I am honoured to meet the famed Lord of Gondolin properly this time around. Proud as I am to know you have remembered a mere soldier of Lord Maedhros and Lord Maglor. " Erestor answers smoothly in old quenya.

"Your dance with your swords was not something a mere simple soldier can accomplish." Glorfindel's melodious quenya flows, his eyes glazing over as memories washes over him," and your eyes shine then even in through the darkness of that dreadful day." "I must be honest, Nirnaeth Arnoediad was my first true battle unskilled as I was, we simply all did what we must," the Feanorian admits softly," It was much thanks to the host of Turgon and your warriors that day. We had all...lost too many."

"Aye...that we did, and it seems we will still do." Glorfindel mourns softly.

The advisor steps closer, snapping Glorfindel out of dreadful thoughts by being so close in his space with his intense presence. As Erestor always does, both on the battlefield and in a council meeting.

"Yet we endure. For those we lost and those who still live."

Glorfindel straightens up and stares at the shorter ellon before him intently. His eyes filled with tree light studying this curious advisor with unwavering grace.

Meanwhile, all Erenion and Elrond could do, is stare on silently, observing the two before them like strangers behind a veil.

It was a while, before Erestor finally blinks slowly and breaks the gentle cradle of silence around them.

"It might be presumptuous of me, a mere underling. I came with a motive,Lord Glorfindel."

"Oh?How bold.What may that be?"Glorfindel press on with a tilt of his head.

"By the permission of my Lord," with that Erestor gave a nod to Elrond who quickly nods back in acknowledgement to hide his poorly hidden distraction, "I have arranged a small meeting with civilians I know who have hailed from the White City who linger on these shores still. Perhaps, my Lord, tired and busy you must be with your schedule, you would like to meet them?"

"Truly!?" Glorfindel's eyes shine brightly for the first time since his arrival to Lindon as he clutches Erestor's shoulders eagerly.His wine glass almost meeting a dreadful end in pieces on the ground if not for Erestor's lightning quick reflex,catching and pushing the glass back into the excited warrior's grasp.Although unfortunately, much of the wine now decorates the floor.Erestor can only blink owlishly back at his sudden enthusiasm.

" Then, please, Master Erestor! Do arrange it at your nearest convenience! It pleases me greatly to meet my fellows once more!" "Certainly, with permission of His Majesty? I'm afraid I may have caused chaos to any of the planned meetings you may have with Lord Glorfindel." Erestor turns to Erenion, switching back to sindarin, who then gives the unpredictable advisor a tired look.

"I expect nothing less from you Erestor, because that is what you do for me. Chaos. But yes, by all means." The High King has to admit begrudgingly, the sly feanorian always seem to know what to do. More than his own advisors it seems...a pity his loyalty is only to his Herald. Though he is uncertain how much he can reign in that wild impudent spirit anyways.

With a bow, Erestor excuses himself in the name of duty. He lays a hand over the large palm hand resting on his shoulder gently. While the dark haired ellon's other hand glides over the Golden Lord's fingers, plucking the now empty wine glass away with care as he slowly turns around. The dark figure leaves, fading into the crowd, with Glorfindel's bright gaze lingering on as the ellon glides away with a whisper of dark robes that leaves not a trace behind in his wake.

Erenion Gil-Galad is High King of Lindon and ruler of the elves.Though in that moment, as he shares a look with Elrond before sipping his now warm wine, he felt like an intruder in his own domain.

---

A/N: I have no idea where this is going but somewhere?

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

#glorfindel #erestor #glorestor #the silmarillion #ficlet #erenion gil galad #gil galad #elrond #coughing up more randomness

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 10 months

Text

A Lord’s Proposition

Prompts “bite me” ”if you insist” and “each of my thoughts about you are improper”

Pairing: Melkor x Fem. Reader (Elf / Finwë’s daughter with Miriel and Fëanor’s twin| second person POV)

Themes: Slowburn | Smut (lemon-ish) | Soft

Wordcount: 4.9K words

Summary: Melkor had kidnapped you and kept you confined to a tower while he travelled to Utumno. He has now returned, and asks for you.

Rating: 🔥🔥 Minors DNI | 18+

For rules and tag form, read here.

To the person who requested this, I hope you like it.

You looked out a barred window, your heart aggrieved by the sight that befell your eyes.

There was no starlight here. None could be found in Angband. The sky was murky black from the thick smog of smoke from the keep’s many furnaces. The air was damp and cold and foul. The scent of ash and smoke and worse crept in through the windows and clung to your garments. Some days, the smell was so strong that it made your eyes water and bile rise at the back of your throat. You had no choice but to bear it all in silence. You were a prisoner, utterly dependent on the favor of the one who held you captive.

Still, you supposed, it was a better fate than most. You turned your attention from the sky and peered into the gloomy courtyard. Thralls scurried to and fro like mice desperately trying to escape the talons of an eagle. They were like wraiths, mere shadows of the fair and glorious beings they once were. That was how your captor liked to see them: fearful, half-starved, and brought down to the lowest point of their existence.

Not just them, you realized with great dread. I am one of them. The daughter of a race he loathes with a murderous passion, so the poets and singers say. How long will it be before I am made to sip from the cup that was forced onto them?

Your skin prickled out of fear. You closed the shutters of your window and sharply turned away as soon as a wretched scream carried through the courtyard. You did not want to dwell on that sound or from whom it came. There was no need to feed your nightmares with fresh fodder.

You studied your chambers like you always did, ever since your capture. The walls and floors were bare black stone, the pelts were thick, and the rushes were new. Besides the old hearth, there was a basket filled with blocks of peat instead of wood for a fire. The bed was small but comfortable. You reflected on the remnants of your last meal. The bread and roasted meat had been fresh, the water was clean and cool.

Mine may be a wretched lot, but it is still better than theirs, you reminded yourself. Much better than theirs.

Someone knocked on the door. It was loud and insistent. You made haste to answer it, your shoes clicking over the floor. You expected to find a thrall and came face-to-face with her instead.

Thuringwethil, they called her. Woman of the secret shadow. Herald for the Dark Lord. The first vampire. Her eyes gleamed like new rubies. Her wings dragged behind her whenever she walked. A gown was draped over one arm.

"My lady." You quickly dipped to your knees even as the words stumbled out of your mouth. Anything to not anger her.

A gale of laughter greeted you. It was shrill and painful to the ears, like nails over brittle glass. You had to stop yourself from physically wincing.

"You certainly have good manners, little elf," Thuringwethil replied, and looked over you critically. "That will serve you well with him, I think."

"With him, my lady?" You sputtered in disbelief. "Which him?"

Your mind was a roil. There was more than one him here in Angband, and each one was as mercurial as the next. Was Thuringwethil speaking of Mairon, Melkor’s most favored advisor? Or was she speaking of that Balrog high general? The one who could change from a creature of great beauty to one that inspired nothing but sheer terror? Or was it the Maia who found great joy in changing into a giant cat and tormenting everyone who crossed his path?

"Him," she said, and moved around you in an elegant flourish. Her wings trailed behind her over the floor, all black and deep crimson. You took a deep breath and sighed wistfully. The very air around her smelled like a meadow in full bloom. It did not surprise you. Thuringwethil used to be Yavanna’s Maia after all. "Lord Melkor, no less. He has returned from Utumno and wishes to dine with you."

You gave her a measured look. You were a prisoner, captured and carried off after a daring raid in the heart of Valinor itself. And now you have been invited to dine with your captor, the Lord of Angband, no less. The prospect frightened you.

"I… I hope I will not offend Lord Melkor," you blurted out, and hoped this invitation was not a ruse to heap unspeakable agony upon you.

"I see you truly are nothing like that heedless, foul-tempered brother of yours," Thuringwethil observed, not unkindly. "And I promise, he will not be offended by anything you do."

She did not give you time to think or frame a reply. She went on to add, "Thralls will see to your bath now. An orc will come to fetch you once you have finished."

You shivered and nodded in fright. Thuringwethil took her leave of you, practically floating out of your chambers in a swirl of wings and lace and night-blooming roses. You walked over to your bed and ran the flat of your palm over your new dress. It was soft to the touch and dripping in gems, and finer than any gown you possessed before.

So lavish, you mused. What does he want from me?

There was another knock on your door. This time it was hesitant and timid. "Come in, please," you said, and moved away from the bed.

Thralls walked in carrying pails of clean, warm water. Another pair brought with them a small copper tub and a towel. A thrall filled the tub with water before adding fragrant oils. Another helped you out of your robes, her eyes downcast. Her fingers fumbled with the sash; it was as if they had all turned into thumbs. You wanted to talk to her, to ask how she came to be here. All you did, in the end, was bite your tongue.

I must take care of what I say to them. It may cause more trouble for them if I do.

The sweet-smelling water was a welcome relief from the smells of the outside world. The thralls sluiced water over your hair before gently brushing out any tangles. One of them went to work on your nails and feet. It felt strange, to have them wait on you in such a manner. It was stranger still, given the cause for such pampering.

She said nothing I do could offend him. I am certain now that he must want something from me. What is it?

You had seen Melkor before. He had come calling on your brother; his words like honey. You were by an upstairs window, looking down on the gardens where they stood. Fëanor had been furious with the Vala’s intrusion. He grew even more enraged when the Vala glanced up and caught you looking, his lips curling up at the corners. Their exchange grew heated. Fëanor sent Melkor away, but not before Melkor managed to steal a second glimpse of you. That was all you saw of him until after your capture, when you were presented to him like a prize, your arms and feet bound in iron, your clothes reduced to rags. He said nothing. All he did was sit on his lofty throne and look down on you, his eyes roaming over you in a way that made a flush creep up your throat.

You never saw him after that. Melkor kept you confined to the tower you now lived in. No one was allowed to see you save for the thralls that had to tend to you and Thuringwethil. The other Maia were allowed nowhere near you. Even the orcs were allowed nowhere near you, until now.

It is as if he does not trust the others with me.

A thrall held out their arm, to help you out of the tub. You stood still while they toweled you dry, your cheeks ablaze when they first helped you into the wisps Thuringwethil brought with her. The garments were so soft, you did not even notice them. Next came the dress, an airy confection of lace and silk that clung to your body. Then came a pair of soft slippers and finally a perfume, one that was dabbed on each of your wrists and behind your ears. The thralls wanted to style your hair, but you declined, insisting on wearing it loose.

"The master calls," insisted the orc that came to escort you to Melkor’s private chambers deep within Angband. "Come."

You followed him silently, walking through lofty corridors and vast halls, each as empty and dimly lit as the next. Your footsteps echoed all around you even as you sunk deep into your thoughts. Melkor had insisted you be brought to him alive. He had kept you in a tower, apart from the thralls and other prisoners. He had provided you with decent food and drink, even new garments. No one was allowed to harm a hair on your head. And the way he looked at you when you were presented to him, his eyes dark with hunger. The memory alone was enough to give you pause.

You shook your head. No. It could not be. Melkor desired nothing but the complete dominion of Arda. He treasured nothing but power and causing pain. That was what the songs said. That was what your father and brother said. And yet…

And yet…

He kept me safe. Made certain my needs were seen to. Did nothing to cause me harm. Were they all wrong?

The orc stopped by large wooden doors, each more than twice your height. "Let her in," he snapped at the guards. They obeyed and opened the doors for you. "Get in," he mumbled almost in politeness.

You meekly stepped over the threshold and made your way into a chamber as large as the halls you had passed. There was a soft thud. That was the sound of the doors closing behind you. You were truly trapped now.

The room you were in was nearly as silent as a tomb. And poorly lit. There were no lamps, or torches. Just a dim fire sputtering away in the hearth.

"Come closer, little elf," a deep voice called from behind you.

You gulped in fright but turned in the direction of that voice.

"Closer," it called. "Come closer."

One measured footstep followed another. You walked on hesitantly, not stopping until you reached a smaller chamber filled with the light of several candles. There was a large bed in one corner, and a small table at the far end. This room, too, was empty. You were confused now. Where did that voice come from?

"Does this please you?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the voice behind you. You turned on your heel and found yourself looking at your captor. Melkor was studying you with a quizzical gleam in his eye. "My lord," you murmured, and gracefully dipped to your knees, remembering your courtesies.

He laughed merrily. "Thuringwethil was right. You do have nice manners."

You looked at him, shocked. She spoke to him about me. Why would she do that?

Melkor smirked and looked at you approvingly before walking over to the table. He pulled out a chair and gestured for you to join him. It confused you even more. The table was devoid of food and drink.

"The food…" you breathed out and struggled for words. Melkor was as glorious as the day you first saw him. The image of him standing there and watching you was enough to muddle your mind. "There… there is no food, my lord."

"There will be food," he replied, "for later. For now, sit."

You obeyed and made your way to the table, your skin prickling the entire time. You glanced at Melkor and found his eyes following your every move. There was something dark and primal in his eyes, something you could not quite describe.

"I will not mince words,” he said. “The reason why I summoned you," Melkor waited till you made yourself comfortable before moving to the chair opposite yours. "Is because I have a… proposition to make."

"Proposition?" You repeated, baffled. Melkor was one of the most high. There was no need for him to ask anything of anyone when he could simply take whatever, and whomever he desired, without so much as a "by your leave."

“Yes." Melkor studied you before saying, "A proposition. I wish to make you my companion. I made this offer to your brother. I was hoping he would put a word in where your father was concerned…"

The day he called on your twin. He had asked for you. You kept asking why and Fëanor refused to explain the cause. He grew angry whenever you asked. Your father finally forbade you from broaching the topic.

"But the fool refused," Melkor snorted in derision. "Now that I have you here with me, I would like to ask this of you myself. Will you be my companion and bind yourself to me?"

You swallowed and wrung your hands. His companion, he said. You did not even know what it would mean. What little you knew of intimate relations between elves came from the books you read while the others were away. "Your companion, my lord. What would I have to do? Read to you? Play the harp?"

Melkor laughed again, softly this time. "Your family has kept you ignorant of many things, I see. I do not wish you to merely read to me and amuse me with music, little elf. To put it in simpler terms, I want you to share my bed."

Your cheeks were aflame. To share his bed. You had read enough books to know what that meant. "To share pleasures with you…" you sputtered, "but if I go back, if the other elves find out what I allowed you to do to me, I will be ruined."

"The other elves will not find out.”

“Why not?”

“Because your brother is not coming for you," Melkor said simply.

"He is coming for me!" you insisted. Your eyes stung with hot tears threatening to break free. Melkor was the prince of lies. That was what they all said. You refused to believe him, thinking he was lying to you even now. "Fëanor is coming for me!"

"He is not, little elf," Melkor replied gently. "Fëanor is not coming for you. His hunger to create the silmarils has consumed him."

Despair of the acutest kind settled over you like a thick fog. The creation of hallowed jewels, each containing the light of the two trees, was all your twin talked about. He would think of nothing else until such priceless treasures rested in his hands. You knew him well enough for that.

"And your father’s thoughts have been consumed with the new family he is creating with his second wife. No one is coming for you." Melkor reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "Say yes, little elf. Take my hand, and every comfort imaginable will be yours. I will be yours."

You sat there, feeling alone and wretched. Your brother was not coming for you. Your father was not coming for you. Days had bled into weeks and weeks into a wholly different season, and no one had come for you. There had not even been a whiff of an elf seeking you out. Your kin had abandoned you to your fate, and the knowledge of it was too much to bear. It made you want to cry, to scream and tear out your hair, but such acts were useless. They would not set you free, and they would not make your kin search for you. You turned your attention to Melkor. He offered a life you were once accustomed to. Perhaps he was not lying. Perhaps he was telling the truth. But still, to say yes to him and take him inside of you…

"The others… your servants…" you whispered, "What will they say?"

"Nothing." Melkor smiled and spread his broad hands. "Life in Angband is different. You can be with whomever you wish, whenever you wish, and however you wish. No one will say a word in protest."

"No one?" You glanced at him, trying to get a sense of him. "Not even you?"

Melkor ground his jaw and growled. His eyes narrowed to thin slats. "You are mine, little elf. All of you belong to me."

Goosebumps rose all over your flesh when he said it. The sheer possessiveness in his tone was enough to make you forget your sense of dread and excite you to the point of actually considering his offer.

"Before I say yes," you licked your lips nervously and confessed, "I… I must tell you I have neither the… skill nor the… experience… in such matters. What little I know has come from books."

Melkor’s lips tugged at the corners. "I thought as much. But first, you must say yes."

To say yes. To take his hand and bind yourself to him for all time. You thought of your suitors, how all of them bowed their heads and walked away without a second glance the moment Fëanor denied them. Then there was Melkor, who willingly risked war and doom to bring you here. You knew what your answer would be.

"Yes."

"Come."

He rose and took you by hand, helping you out of your chair and leading you straight to his bed. You eyed the silk sheets and the soft pillows. To just lay in that bed was temptation enough. Melkor did not give you time to think of much else. He grabbed your arms and kissed you before you could say another word.

The books spoke of kisses that were sweet and soft, like feathers. Melkor’s kiss was none of that. It was all heat and wildness and hunger. His tongue glided over the seams of your mouth before pressing against your lips. You sighed helplessly and parted them for him. His mouth tasted like some dark spice you could not get enough of. Melkor smirked in triumph, his breath heating your flesh.

"How easily you yield, little elf!" he cried when you tugged on his tunic to pull him closer. "And how fortunate I am to have you in my grasp!" He laughed again and placed his hands over your shoulders, pushing you down onto the edge of the bed. "Tell me," he cooed softly, "What else did you read in these books?"

You looked at him, your eyes widening when he undid the buckle of his belt. "I…" You glanced at him, then at what he was doing. He was loosening the drawstrings of his breeches. "I have read about certain acts, but…" Your cheeks heated when he tugged it down just enough to free his cock. "But…"

"It was not enough?" Melkor asked and caressed your cheek. "Then I will guide you. Open that pretty mouth for me, little elf."

He waited, neither forcing nor demanding that you obey. A thumb glided over your lips, making you look at him. "Open little elf," he insisted gently, "Go on."

The sight of him all exposed and hard proved too tempting. You opened your mouth, eager and willing and curious, struggling to breathe while he sank his length. Melkor moved slowly and gently, his hands delving into your hair and keeping you steady. He groaned and shivered when you ran your tongue along his shaft and let curious hands skim over his thighs. His hand glided over to cup your cheek. You opened your eyes and found his fixed on yours; his mouth parted in a silent moan.

"I have been thinking about you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, little elf," he confided, whimpering when your tongue brushed over his tip. "Each of my thoughts about you have been improper."

Melkor was gentle with his instructions. "Loosen your jaw, little elf." He caressed your cheek again to catch your attention. "You clench it too much."

It was easier after that. You reached up and clutched the edges of his tunic, your mind going hazy with bliss. Everything you felt, from the hands brushing over your hair to the little ridges brushing against your lips to the soft grunts you heard, was dark and sinful. You had often wondered what such acts would be like while reading books forbidden to you, but no words could describe what you were feeling now, all feverish and wanton.

Melkor drew back and pushed you onto the sheets. You gazed at him, surprised, and more than a little disappointed. "Move further up, little elf," he chuckled, running his thumb over your swollen lips. "I want to claim you as mine."

Again, you did as he asked, even more eager this time. You moved further up the bed, trembling whenever you felt the wetness between your thighs. Melkor undid the clasps of his tunic one by one. You expected to find vast parts of him withered and deformed, as the songs said. What was slowly revealed instead was the stuff of a maiden’s dreams: a fana that was all supple muscle and devoid of flaw. His skin was the color of new steel, and his arms were large and strong.

Not once did he use that strength to force me, you mused, flushing when the mattress sank and he crawled into bed with you, boots on and all. Melkor pushed your thighs apart with his. His hands slid under your skirts.

"I…" You found yourself trembling with growing need when the flat of his palm glided over your leg. "I thought we must be undressed, my lord."

"Next time," Melkor promised. He hiked your skirts up to your waist and shoved his hand down your undergarments, ripping them apart with one tug. "For now, let me do this."

His fingers grazed your slick heat. The friction was delicious enough to make you see stars. Melkor trembled. He actually trembled. His touch was gentle, almost worshipful in its exploration. He propped himself on his free arm, just so he could watch you while he slipped a finger inside of you. It made your breath hitch when that finger slid deeper and deeper.

"My lord," you moaned without even realizing it. He dipped his head and ghosted his lips over yours.

"I am here, little elf," he purred softly, brushing his hand over your hair. He dipped his head again, nibbling your earlobe and sighing when your arms circled his back.

He had been thinking of me since he first saw me, you remembered. When was that?

"M-my lord?" Your back began to arch with each thrust of his finger. He inserted a second as carefully as the first, groaning whenever your warmth clenched around them. "W-when did you first see me?"

"When I was allowed to return to Valinor," he confessed softly against your neck. "I saw you with your father and brother near the Ring of Doom. I stayed in the shadows and watched you. Even then, I knew I had to make you mine."

The Ring of Doom. When your father was called to hear the Valar’s verdict on his appeal to remarry. That was a full century before Melkor approached your brother for you.

A hundred years was but the blink of an eye for an elf. Lesser still for a being such as him. But still...A hundred years. He had been seeking me out over a hundred years. Your hands brushed over his hair while he nibbled at your earlobe. The thought of him marking you with his teeth was enough to make your pulse scramble. You grew a little bolder.

“M-my lord?" You mumbled shyly. "W-would you c-consider marking me?"

“Bite you, little elf?"

"Y-yes. B-bite me."

Melkor raised his head, his dark eyes darkening even more. You heard a low and otherworldly growl. The sound inflamed you. "If you insist," he said, leaning in and running his tongue over the hollow of your throat. "Turn your head to the side, little elf."

He peppered the soft expanse of your throat with kisses that were bruising and almost violent. Every time his teeth grazed the curve of your neck, your nails would dig into his back. "Melkor," you sighed again. "There. Right there. Oh."

"Now everyone who sees you will know you are mine." He lifted his head and admired the canvas he had made out of your body. When he drew his fingers away, it made you feel strangely empty. "Rest your legs over my hips, little elf." Melkor hovered over you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. "And do not tense. Can you manage this?"

He wanted to claim your maidenhead. You looked up at him, trying to decide what to do. If he did, if you said yes to this, you could never go back. The other acts you could hide in lies, but not this. Never this. No elf would stay married to you once the truth came to light. Your family would never welcome you back. Your father would not wish to ruin the prospects for any child born to his second wife, and your brother… you shivered. You did not want to even think of what Fëanor would do to you.

Why am I fretting over what others will say, when those others have already turned their backs on me?

Melkor’s knuckles drifted over your throat. He may never ask for you again. He could send you away and carry on like nothing happened. It would would you deeply if he did. But the memories would feel so sweet.

You made up your mind. You moved your legs over his hips, the insides of your thighs rubbing up against the supple leather of his breeches. It felt strange but wonderful. "I am ready," you whispered.

“I will be gentle," Melkor promised, trembling again. His kiss was soft and so very warm. He kissed you until you were breathless, kissed you until you moaned, and your hold around him tightened. He guided his shaft inch by slow inch into your slit, stopping whenever you whimpered to give you time to breathe. His hand glided over your thigh, your belly, his words a sweet melody in a tongue you had never heard of in your life. It put your entire body at ease. He would move again, now slowly, now gently, filling you in ways you never thought possible. He stopped again, this time after claiming your maidenhood. He looked at you with questioning eyes, as if asking for permission.

"Yes," you assured him, sighing when he moaned and started to move.

He was so big, and it felt uncomfortable. And he was gentle, just like he promised. Pain and discomfort slowly gave away to a pleasure that had no name. Every time he moved, every time he found a place that sent jolts of deep ecstasy licking up your spine, you clung to him, moaning his name shamelessly. Melkor’s lips crushed yours in an all-consuming kiss. At your own urging, he went a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster, growling when his hips slapped against the insides of your thighs. It was too much. And not enough. And intoxicating all at the same time. Melkor knelt up and dragged you with him.

"Kiss me," he demanded, "and make it count."

His fingers dug into the back of your dress, his nails ripping into the fabric the moment your mouth opened over his. His tongue tasted like wine when it pressed against yours, and his hair felt like silk when it slipped around your fingers. A tension that was sweet and drugging grew in your belly.

"So-something is ha-happening," you mewled, not knowing what it meant. "I... d-do not understand…"

You may not have known, but Melkor did. "Soon, little elf," he whispered, latching onto the curve of your neck. A mixture of kisses and nips of the teeth skimmed over your throat. "A little more. Just a little more."

That soon came faster than you could have thought. Your muscles coiled and tightened, and snapped, like your body was splintering into a million different pieces. You could not think. You could even breathe. You were lost in a sea of untold rapture. You barely felt it, Melkor’s hold on you tightening even as your nails raked over his skin. You barely heard it—a deep grunt of satisfaction when he thrust one last time, and a torrent of his spend filled you.

The world had gone still, so very still. Your thoughts were still muddled when Melkor laid you on your back. You were silent while clarity slowly crept in.

Melkor had claimed all you willingly gave, and so much more. He made you experience joys you had never experienced before. And now you braced yourself, your heart gripped in agony, thinking he might prove the tales told about him true and send you away, never to seek you out after that. The books did not prepare you for the pain of his rejection. You prepared yourself anyway, your body still shaking when the featherbed sank again under his weight. Melkor threw an arm over your waist and drew you to him. Both arms encircled you now, even as he buried his face in your hair.

"I will have your possessions moved to my chambers. Rest for now, little elf." He mumbled and pressed a chaste kiss over your shoulder. "When you wake up, I will bathe you, and we will dine together. Perhaps you could even read to me."

tags: @lemonivall @cilil @edensrose @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese

#Melkor #Melkor smut #Melkor x reader #Morgoth #morgoth smut #The silm #The silm imagine #the silmarilion #melkor imagine #morgoth imagine #x reader #Reader insert #reader insert request #writeblr #fanfiction #The valar #The ainur #💫a world of whimsy writes

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newtthetranswriter · 10 months

Text

Kindred Souls

Summary: Princess Zelda, her appointed Knight Link, and her advisor/ secondary guard Y/n travel below Hyrule castle to find out what is causing the gloom that is making people fall ill, they are met with mystery and challenges when they reach the source.

Warnings: Injury, maybe some angst done the line, Spoilers for LoZ:ToTK, that's it for now

Paring: ToTK!Link x gn!Reader

Word count: 2766

a/n: this does contain spoilers for The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom. Let me know if you enjoy this and if you want me to continue it further. Name might change later MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

We were traveling into the depths underneath Hyrule castle, and by we I mean Princess Zelda, the one who wields the sword that seals the darkness, Link, and Me. I’m one of Zelda’s advisors. I wasn’t around 100 years ago when the great calamity first hit but when Link awoke from his slumber, I ran into him near hateno village and started helping him in his goal to save Zelda and the kingdom. But anyways we are currently making our way below the castle because there have been reports of people getting sick because of a red and black smoke-like substance rising from below.

“We’ve been descending for a while now… These tunnels are deeper than I thought. What could be down here?” Zelda questioned noticing we had been on this journey a lot longer than we had expected.

“No idea, but whatever is causing all this gloom can’t be a good thing.” I responded as I passed a shrugging Link who also seemed just as confused by the journey as the two of us. We continued on through the depths. I was also actively tuning out Zelda’s ramblings about a race of peoples who once inhabited Hyrule known as the Zonai. I only stopped when we entered a rather large room, where the gloom was extremely thick and there was an ominous green glowing light.

“What is this palace?” Zelda asked knowing none of us would have the answer before stating, “Let’s continue Link, and Y/n, but we must be extremely careful.”

Link and I nodded in agreement and we proceeded into open space towards the light.

As we approached the source of the light we saw what looked like an ancient mummy with long hair and a weird stone on its forehead, it also seemed the light was coming from a glowing arm planted against the mummy’s chest with its own stone embedded in the back of its hand. “What is that?” I said as we got closer to the strange sight. The closer we got, I could see the hand start to spasm and then fall away from the mummy. As it fell from the corpse the stone fell from its hand and rolled to Zelda’s feet.

Zelda had bent down to grab the stone and once it was in her hand it began to glow a yellow color. As she rose to a standing position, what sounded like a heartbeat echoed through the room. We all turned to the mummy that seemed to twitch as if coming to life.

It feel back in a jerking motion only to turn it’s head towards our small group and reveal two red-orange glowing eyes. After it laid eyes on our group it released what seemed to be a massive attack of gloom in all directions, one stream heading straight for Zelda and the other coming at me.

I watched as Link jumped in front of Zelda to protect her, while I pulled my Hylian shield in front of me in hopes to lessen the blow that I knew I wouldn't be able to dodge. As I was pushed back I watched in horror as the gloom surrounded Link’s arm and the Master sword, leaving Link’s arm crippled and the Master sword with a strange red spot that looked almost like an infection. After the first strike the mummy sent out another stream of this hardened gloom directly at Link, the swordsman swung his sword at the attack in hopes of dispeling it only to watch in shock as the legendary blade shattered like a piece of glass. A small fragment flying and slicing the mummy’s check.

“Was that the sword that seals the darkness? A blade that shatters so easily against my power cannot save you from me.” The creature said as it rose to an upright position. “ Zelda… You, who carries that fragile sword… are Link, and you with the h/c hair are Y/n. Rauru placed his faith in you… and that was all you could do?” It continued shocking all of us as it called each of us by name.

Zelda stepped back “how do you… know our names?” she voiced in fear. I was also stepping back in fear as I watched the beast begin to release a catastrophic amount of gloom from its chest. And directed upwards towards the castle above us.

The entire room began to shake as the castle appeared to be lifting out of the ground and into the sky, rubble began to fall around as I tried to make my way back to the entrance of the room, not having realized that the princess had fallen as the floor collapsed beneath her until i heard her call for Link. I turned and watched as Link jumped from his position in an attempt to catch her only to miss by centimeters with his injured hand. I continued to watch in amazement as the light from the stone zelda’s hand enveloped her and then faded with a trace of her being there. I also witnessed the hand from before grab Link’s good arm and hold him in the air for a second before it also disappeared in a bright flash of light taking the man with it.

Not completely understanding what was happening I decided the best course of action was to get back to Look out Landing and speak with Purah about organizing a search party for the Princess, and Link. What I failed to realize was that when I had used my shield to absorb the hit from the gloom, some of the gloom had hit my leg making it difficult to walk now that the adrenaline of the encounter with an ancient mummy had worn off. With this difficulty to walk I was only able to just barely make it to the surface by crawling for what felt like days out of the tunnels under Hyrule castle. As I made it to the surface I hoped someone would realize that something was wrong and come looking for us and find me before a bokoblin or other monster who is freshly risen comes along to kill me in my weekend state.

As I laid in one of the barley standing rooms that didn’t rise to the sky with the rest of the castle I could help but to think of what the hell happened and where the hell did Zelda and Link disappear to. Are they in the same place? Are they still alive? What the hell was that thing and why was it under the castle? Will someone find me soon? Will we ever find them? Will I ever be able to tell Link how I feel? I mean I’ve liked him for a while now, but i haven’t found the right time to tell him. I don’t even know if he would like me back, but I shouldn't worry about that right now. I should be thinking about whether or not I should stay where I'm at and wait for help or if I should suck it up and try to get back on my own.

I waited for another hour for the pain in my leg to subside and the thoughts in my head to get back on track. I had finally decided that I wasn’t going to wait around for someone or something to find me here so I maneuvered myself towards the closest wall to use to prove myself up. I believed wholeheartedly I would be able to stand up and limp my way back to safety… I was wrong as I took a step forward with my good leg and then went to move the injured one my body gave out and I collapsed back to the floor. As I hit the floor I knew I wasn't getting out by myself and was left to hope that a search team found me before a monster did. The last thought to enter my head before I passed out was please at least let Link and Zelda be ok. And then my world faded to black.

I awoke with a jolt. I sat up in bed taking in my surroundings. I could tell I was in the emergency bunker in Lookout Landing, but I was sure how I got there. Last thing I remember was going with Link and Zelda to investigate the gloom coming from underneath the castle. I was about to ask one of the other people sitting in the bunker if they knew how I got there when a familiar white head of hair made an appearance in my field of view.

“Y/n/n, I’m glad to see you finally awake. How’s the leg doing? It was pretty messed up when we found you. Also could you tell me what happened, where are the Princess and Link?” Purah asked as she noticed I was awake.

I just looked at her in confusion, not quite sure what she meant. Then it hit me the ache in my left leg and the memory of that thing attacking us, Zelda and Link both disappearing in different flashes of light. “I’m not sure how to explain what happened and I have no clue where they are.” I responded still just as confused even with the memories flooding back.

Purah looked at me in slight concern knowing that a lot must have happened under the castle seeing as only one of our party of three returned and the castle was now floating in the air surrounded by gloom. “It’s ok, take your time. We already organized a search party to find them. You rest for now when you feel up to it just as one of the workers to get me and we can talk about it. Ok? For now just rest.” She said before making her way out of the bunker but not before telling one of the workers to get me something to eat and drink.

I just watched her leave and accepted the small meal of fish and mushrooms offered to me by the cook. I uttered a quick thanks before eating the meal and trying to sort through everything that happened. The only thing I was sure of was that Link and Zelda were gone and that weird mummy thing was plotting something. It was bad news and I hoped Link would return before things got any worse. I could fight off some monsters by myself but I couldn't possibly beat whatever that was.

After resting for another day I was able to pull myself up the ladder and then limp my way over to Purah’s makeshift lab here in lookout landing. When I got there I was greeted with a tight hug and Purah urging me to explain anything I could about what was happening.

“ I don’t know how to really explain it, maybe if Zelda or Link were here they could explain it, but what I do know is your search party probably won’t find either of them at the castle.” I said knowing that wherever they were it was nowhere near the castle. The lights that seemingly teleported the two definitely took them somewhere completely different. Plus if Link was still in the castle or in the tunnels below it he would have made his way back here awhile ago.

“How are you so sure? What happened that’s making you think they wouldn’t be in the castle? You were pretty beat up when we found you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a concussion.” Purah stated somewhat doubting my comment because I wasn’t explaining it more than stating it as fact.

I got slightly irritated, “ They aren’t anywhere near the castle, I watched both of them be surrounded by bright glowing lights before disappearing into thin air. I doubt whatever took them would have just moved them around the castle. You’re looking in the wrong place.” I said with obvious irritation in my tone. I didn’t know how to explain what I saw but this is the best I can do.

“Ok, thank you for at least telling me that much, but then again it does kind of make sense as we have been getting reports from all over Hyrule that Zelda has been spotted in random places these past couple days.” Purha said finally, listening to the fact that our missing friends weren’t in the castle.

“ wait a second past a couple days… How long have I been in the bunker? It couldn’t have been more than a day since they went missing.” I asked in confusion thinking I had to have been found shortly after passing out at the castle and had woken up shortly after being placed in the bunker.

Purah looked at me almost sadly. “ You’ve been unconscious for about a week. We found you at the castle about twelve hours after the castle lifted into the sky. We only waited that long to see if you guys would come back on your own, and when you didn’t that's why I sent out a search party.” Purah said it was obvious she felt bad for not sending people sooner, but it was understandable. She had complete faith in all of us that we would all come back safely no matter what happened.

“Wow, a week. I’m sorry, I must have worried you, but right now we need to focus on finding Link and Zelda. I'm not sure where to start looking but we need to find them soon.” I responded trying to get the topic back on the important fact that we need to find them. “I will help as best I can but with my leg messed up I’m not sure if I should be traveling to the ends of Hyrule on my own. Is there any one who can a-” My sentence was interrupted by Josha saying something outside that I could barely make out.

“Doctor Purah! The swordsman! The swordsman has returned!” I heard her yell loud and clear. Purah and I made eye contact and we both immediately scrambled to the door.

“Where have you been?! Linky… You’re not a ghost, are you?” Purah asked Link who was standing out front wearing what looked like an old shawl over one shoulder and a kilt looking skirt with sandals. His hair that was normally in a half up due is now falling nicely over his shoulders bangs still framing his face. The most notable change to his appearance was his right arm, the last time I saw him, his right arm had been completely crippled from the malice of the attack from that beast. In place of the destroyed limb was a gray arm with what looks like brass arm bands and rings along it; it also had lighter gray marks moving up from about the elbow working its way over the right side of Link’s exposed shoulder and chest.

Seeing him standing there after what was apparently a week of him being missing, took my breath away. I wasn’t accepting him to just show up here , let alone with a new arm and in a completely different outfit. I also made note of the fact the Master sword was missing from his person, it was odd but i pushed it to the back of my mind focused on the joy of seeing him again. I was so overwhelmed with joy I couldn't stop myself from running into his arms and hugging him.

After the shock of being nearly tackled by me wore off, Link wrapped his arms around me as well. Not letting go of me, turned his attention back to Purah who also seemed slightly shocked by my display of affection for our dear friend but brushed off to start asking more questions.

“What exactly happened?” She asked now, having two people present that had been under the castle when it lifted from the ground into the sky, she figured she’d get some answers.

Finally releasing Link with a whispered apology, I turned back to Purah and said “Let’s go inside to talk about it, I guess, my leg is starting to hurt again so I'd like to sit down while we talk.” Feeling my injured leg start to hurt more. I also felt a little more comfortable having Link here to help me explain what had happened under the castle, because it wouldn’t sound as crazy if two people agreed upon the story. With that we made our way into Purah’s lab to discuss what had been happening and where Link had gone.

#legend of zelda #botw link x reader #link x reader #tears of the kindom spoilers #tears of the kingdom #loz: tears of the kingdom

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rosalinrabbit · 1 year

Text

Nectar of the Gods

Blue Banisters Track List

Pairing: Robb Stark x Fem! Mormont Reader

Warnings: Hurt, hurt no comfort, past relationships, family deaths, briefly mentioned violence, final goodbyes, pure angst, Robb being an idiot and putting the North in danger

Summary: After the death of your aunt and your father, you knew you had to return to Bear Island. You couldn’t take it anymore, watching Robb live a life you weren’t a part of any longer. When the King in the North himself finds you packing your bags, many things left unsaid finally come to light.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This is the start of the Blue Banisters Track List!! (A new project which is likely going to be a bit inconsistent in terms of order and posting)

This fic is a mix of show and book canon if that makes sense? I was rewatching the show and every time we get to the whole Robb x Talisa plotline I lose my mind at how weird it is but I digress.

You are in charge of your own media consumption. Please read responsibly.

Do not translate or re-upload any of my work. Works are only cross-posted on AO3.

< What sweet world is this? Honey on the vine..

School kid dreams came true, then passed in the night

I used to dream about people like you, now I don’t know why… >

-Lana Del Rey, Nectar of the Gods

You hurried to pack your things from the tent you had once shared with your aunt, the one you still shared with two of her daughters, your cousins, Dacey and Lyra. Maege’s oldest and third oldest. The rest, Alysane, Jorelle, and Lyanna, remained at Bear Island.

The she-bear is no more. When her daughters decided to remain by the King’s side, you knew you could not. Then, the message came from up North. From the Wall.

To your luck, the raven’s message landed in the hands of Catelyn Stark, not her son’s. It was Catelyn who came up to you, pulling you into her tent to talk alone. Her eyes alone saw the tears when she told you.

Your father was dead. Killed by his own men in a mutiny beyond the wall.

You were taught better than to react in the way you did, in disbelief and agony. In shock. You had stared at the older woman for a few moments before you could even process her words, yet your eyes seemed to beat your mind to it, tears streaming down your face as you stared past Catelyn, towards the opening of the tent and out into the beyond.

When the sobs broke through, you felt her hands on your arms, holding you up so you wouldn’t fall over, bringing you close and providing you with the comfort only a mother could, even though you would never get to call her by that name.

Even though she herself had expected you to one day.

You were thankful that Catelyn atleast understood your pain. While you hailed from Bear Island, while you held the name Mormont and were loyal as can be to House Stark, while you knew how to fight and lead like the rest of your family, the pain of it all weighed on you. As much as you tried to hide it, for the pride of your house, for your own dignity, it was far too much, and you and the Stark matriarch both knew the pain went beyond the death of your father.

It was everything inbetween.

The two Stark girls whom you loved like sisters, in what felt like increasingly mortal danger because of Robb’s rebellion.

The death of your aunt, who cared for you as though you were her own when your mother died, when your much older half-brother Jorah disgraced the house, and when your father left to take the black.

The fear for your house and your future, leaving your dear young cousin Lyanna at home and in charge of Bear Island with her mother’s most trusted advisors.

The fact that your father was killed by his own men, by the job he had commited his life to.

The heartbreak of Robb moving on.

The anger caused by his stupidity.

The moment you learned he had married that Westerling woman, the one who traveled along with the infantry, healing men who probably didn’t have a chance, you knew this war was doomed. Not because of what Walder Frey would do, but because of Robb’s clear lack of foresight. How could he not see what the rest of you saw? All for one woman.

You had never asked that of him.

Your engagement had been broken off when the war began. He told you he wanted to keep the engagement but did not want you to be a target, and you had told him that the greatest chance he’d have at winning this war was through an advantageous marriage. One that would offer far more than your family could. You didn’t do it because you didn’t love him, no. The both of you were desolate at the reality of it all. In your mind, you hoped he would refuse to marry throughout the war. Hoped the “young wolf” would be strong enough, that he wouldn’t need to. But you knew better, and you knew he needed the numbers. If Arya and Sansa were going to survive, he needed a stronger army and a wife that could offer more to him standing by his side.

When he promised to marry Walder Frey’s daughter, your heart broke. Yet the passage was worth it. The North was worth it.

You would do it a thousand times over for Sansa and Arya, and you’d do the same for your own young cousins that were like sisters to you. Not that Dacey and Lyra needed protecting, but if they did, you would do it for them without much thought.

For his family, for his sisters, you broke the engagement.

And Robb threw all of that away, and the North along with it, by marrying Talisa.

As you changed into more suitable riding clothes, you couldn’t help but think of the past. Of when you thought you had it all figured out. You closed your eyes, and tears slipped out at the memories of him.

Holding his hand and walking through the glass gardens. Braiding Sansa’s hair. Chasing after Bran and Arya as they climbed up walls and through windows.

Or when he kissed you in the Godswood, telling you that you were standing on the spot where you would eventually marry.

Lies.

You would never have any of those things again.

“Y/n?”

You startled at Robb’s voice, wiping away any stray tears and turning around to prepare to face him, hiding your bags behind your back.

“Yes, your highness?” You responded bitterly as he entered the tent on your response.

“Please don’t call me that. When did you ever get so formal?” He muttered.

“I’ve always been formal to those who require it.”

“I do not require it of you.”

“Your station and our relationship does.”

“You mean our lack of a relationship?” He bit slightly before calming again.

You stood, unmoving, eyes glazing past him as you waited for him to get on with it. He stepped forward and you stiffened.

“I had realized we never spoke about Maege…” He stepped even closer and his hand reached up before you quickly took a step back from him, confused at his purpose and his words. He looked at you with a pained expression at your coldness, and it just made you angry. None of this was your choice. “Your aunt was a great woman,” he began. “I know you loved her deeply, and she looked after you like you were her own. I am truly sorry for your loss.”

Perhaps, under different circumstances, Robb’s condolences may have made you soften. May have had you second-guessing your choice to leave. Now, looking at him, you could hardly recognize the man you once loved. He spoke with the compassion he always seemed to hold within him, yet the way he stood, the way he looked, he had this strange self-righteousness. As if this could save you from your pain… and what of your father? He must not know.

You stood there staring at him before you spoke, in as neutral a tone as you could muster. “We have all made great sacrifices, your highness. I believe my aunt may rest easy knowing her own sacrifice, that of her life, saved countless others.” Unlike you, you thought to yourself. No, he sacrifices others. Not himself.

Robb wasn’t an idiot, and his expression sunk at your words. “I appreciate every sacrifice that has been made on behalf of the North.”

Sadness and anger were welling up within you, and gods, you wanted to yell at him. You wondered if you could still get away with something like that, yet you simply muttered, thinking of your father, your aunt, the stark girls. “And a great many, indeed.”

“Y/n… do not insinuate that I do not know sacrifice. I have lost as much, if not more, compared to all those here.”

“Whatever you believe,” you spoke, looking directly into his eyes, “it doesn’t really matter in the end, does it? It doesn’t matter what we’ve lost, it’s already gone.” You turned your head away, willing tears to stay put in your eyes.

“I am sorry.”

You didn’t know what he was apologizing for. “It is what it is.”

“I made you a promise. And I broke it.”

“You did.”

“Why must you always act like it doesn’t matter to you?” He scoffed, frustrated. There was a pause. “Were you.. were you packing up your things to leave?”

You turned to look at your bags on the bed.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, your highness.”

“Don’t call me that, please, for gods sakes. And all I ever wanted was an ounce of pushback from you! We were to be married, and you gave that away so easily, yet now you punish me for it every day because I married Talisa!”

“Robb,” you spoke harshly, stopping his rant, giving him what he seemed to want. An honest response. “You’re right, I am angry with you. Just not for the selfish reasons you think I am.”

“Well if you’re abandoning the war effort, it’s better for me to hear it now before you’re taken prisoner.”

You sighed at his childish threat. “I think you haven’t seen a single thing I’ve done. Of course breaking the engagement mattered to me! How could you not see that? You know how much I loved you, how on earth could you really think I gave that up so easily? Without second thoughts? I did it for you! And you’re so far up your own arse at this point that you can’t even see that! I sacrificed my love for you for the lives of your sisters. For the chance to win this war. Is that not a good enough reason for you? It’s not that you married Talisa, it’s that I agreed to end the engagement while under the impression that it would change the tides of the war. That you would marry a Frey and secure the twins. But you didn’t do that, Robb. And it felt like a knife in my back.” Robb stood a few paces away from you, a hurt expression across his face, one of shame and sadness. “I made that sacrifice for nothing.”

“I love her. That’s why I married her. I loved, I still love, you… I could not marry a woman I did not love. It wouldn’t have been right for either of us.”

“This is not about love, Robb. It is about duty, and honor. I know you believe what you did was honorable, honorable to the sanctity of vows and marriage… but you killed hundreds if not thousands of our men with your choice. Is that worth it to you? Is that truly so honorable, if it meant breaking your promises?”

“We will make it right with the Freys, and pay our debts another way. But you, you broke your promise to me. And now you stand here with your bags packed, is that not breaking your promise, too?”

“I did it for your family! I did it to try to save your sisters, and I did it for you! How can you not see that? And I’m leaving now because my family is in trouble, my cousins just lost their mother and now must rule the island. I’ve given up so much for you, for your family…” You rose your voice in anger, beginning to lose control of your emotions, hands beginning to shake as you tied up your bags.

“Even if they are family, what would your father think of you being a deserter?”

“Do not speak of my father-“ your voice broke, tears welling up in your eyes.

“If you were under his command he’d have you killed for abandoning your position, y/n,”

“He’s dead, Robb!” You yelled, eyes locking to his, tears dripping from your eyes like spring rain. “My father is dead.”

“Y/n- I didn’t know,” Robb’s face had fallen to one of sympathy, his hand reached out for you, to comfort you like he had so many times in the past. And this time you let his hand reach your shoulder. You stiffly let him protectively put a hand on the top of your head, and pull you into his embrace. After a moment, you relaxed into his warmth, exhaling shakily as the tears kept coming. “I know how much he meant to you. I am so sorry…”

“Robb, you have to let me go,” you whispered, and you knew he understood you meant he needed to let you return home, because his hold around you was maintained. “I don’t have anything left for me here. I want another chance. A chance to be happy. I want to protect and defend my home, and the family I have left.”

“I can’t,” he told you earnestly. “I can’t.”

“You’re married, you moved on… So why won’t you let me?”

“I didn’t, really. I couldn’t.”

“But you did. You can’t take any of it back, Robb. And I know that I can’t either.” You paused to collect yourself before continuing. “Do you want to know how my father died?”

He was silent for a moment before asking, “how?”

“His own men killed him. There was a mutiny.” His grip around you tightened. “My father was an incredibly respected man. And in the end, no matter how much he did right, he did not pay enough attention to what was right in front of him. I don’t think he ever considered just how possible it was that his men would turn on him.”

“The North is stronger than a band of criminals. We have a family name to stand behind, we have bannermen who swore oaths for generations. It is different,” he rationalized, looking down at you. And you looked up, and then, you could remember why you fell in love with him. With his handsome face and dark curls, his fierce yet pragmatic nature, the overwhelming protection, and the way his adoration for you shone through his eyes. The way you could feel it. And your heart hurt, because you thought he might be wrong. His eyes stayed on yours as you spoke.

“Nothing is as strong as it seems, Robb… You just crossed Walter Frey. One of the most selfish men I’ve ever met, the lord of a great river lands house, and of the crossing, which you desperately need for this war… I could be wrong. I could be, but I’ve already lost you. I’ve already lost your sisters. I’ve lost my aunt, who raised me as her own, and I’ve lost my father. I cannot be here anymore. There is nothing for me here, and while I can never forgive you for the choices you made, I also cannot bear to lose more of you than I already have.”

Robb brought his hands up to your face, brushing the water from your eyes as his own eyes welled with tears.

“You have to let me go,” you pleaded again, voice barely even a whisper.

“I know,” he nodded. “At least let me get a horse and supplies for you. Meet me at the eastern edge of the camp.”

And with that, he quickly withdrew his hands, leaving your tent without a second glance.

As you waited, you ensured you had packed everything. You double-checked the items and re-laced your boots before throwing on a warm cloak and stepping outside. The air was growing colder, and with the winds came winter.

You quickly made your way to the edge, and by the tree line you spotted him. Standing with your horse, already saddled.

He was silent when you approached, and could not meet your eye as he took your bags and attached them. He automatically held a hand out to help you mount, but when you took it, he looked at you again. And he truly looked at you. His eyes ran over the details of your face, like he was committing it to memory, and held your hand like a lifeline. He looked at you with sad desperation, pulling you into a hug once more, tucking your head under his chin and holding you so tight you could hardly breathe. When his grip loosened, he placed a tender kiss to your forehead, and within it held every memory, and every touch.

“You know where to go. Just promise me to be careful. Go quickly, don’t stop for anyone… I love you, y/n.” His voice sounded hoarse, too much emotion behind it to even speak of.

“I love you too, Robb,” you told him, staring deep into his eyes as you cried for what felt like the millionth time that day. “And I am sorry that wasn’t enough.”

He simply nodded, and helped you onto the horse.

He did not look at you as you fixed the hold on the reins or the lay of your cloak along your back, but as you urged your horse into a galloping pace and you looked back, his eyes were fixed on you.

You knew then that you would always love him, and no matter how lost he made you feel, and while you could never forgive him, you could now move forward. You knew you could find your way.

Whether Robb made it through or not, your situations wouldn’t change. Too much had transpired to ever go back.

No, even if you both survived this war, you knew that this would be the last time you ever saw Robb Stark.

#robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #king in the north #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #house stark #rorabbit

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