#spun gold and starlight

[askrossiel]

#doodles #wooftales #spun gold and starlight

[ofscorchedearth]

"I have a gift for you. I am afraid it's not much..."

"What?! It's perfect!"

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #au ra #xaela #solongo orilokh #gposers #starlight celebration #threads spun from gold

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Day 2 of @silmsmutweek

Pairing: Finwë x Indis | Location: Tirion upon Túna

Themes: Smut (subtle)

Warnings: Tender sex | First Time | Kissing | Foreplay | Oral (fem. receiving) | Hand job (Male receiving) | Penetrative sex | Cream pie

Word count: 2.5k words

Summary: Finwë teaches Indis how to give and receive pleasure during their first time alone as husband and wife.

Rating: 🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

The green hill of Túna had been gilded in the golden light of Laurelin and the silver from the great lamp atop Mindon Eldaliéva when Finwë took Indis to be his wife.

Standing beneath the leaves of Galathilion, they joined hands, recited their vows, and kissed each other chastely before turning to face the rapturous applause that greeted them. The Great Square itself had been decorated especially for the occasion. Garlands of new green leaves and red berries added color to the chilling white of slender columns and terraces and walls. Crystal steps glittered and fountains bubbled away merrily as guests came forth to congratulate the newlywed couple.

Finwë searched the growing throng for a glimpse of his son. Fëanor was present, taking great care to move amongst the crowd without being stopped. He dared to glance at his sire, nodding curtly out of respect for the occasion, before making his way around the elves and disappearing into the shadows. Finwë sighed and decided he would talk with his son later. For now, he would set his thoughts on his new wife and the happy occasion at hand.

Indis was radiant in the colors of her noble house. Cloth of gold and white, adorned with lace and tiny jewels and pearls, flowed down her shoulders and pooled around her feet. Her spun gold hair tumbled past her waist and back in soft waves that seemed to gleam with a light all of their own. A golden circlet studded with sapphires sat amidst her hair. She smiled shyly while kith and kin came to wish her and her husband well in their new life together. She then turned to Finwë and beamed when he offered his arm. It was time for the procession and the feast.

The feast itself was just as glorious as the ceremony, perhaps even more so. Lamps threw out gold and silver light while guests feasted on thick stews and delicate pastries and fresh fruit. Bowls piled high with new berries and olives and figs sat amidst platters of fine white bread and thin herbed wafers. Attendants served pitchers of sweet cider and golden wine and fragrant draught for any guest that had a thirst. Glass goblets and cups clinked even as guests dined and had their fill. Song and laughter mingled while voices rose and fell in the crisp air. After having taken her place on the raised dais, Indis savored as much as she could, but soon found her appetite forsaking her. It was not fear that brought about such a change, but giddy anticipation. Once she and her lord retired from the feast and shielded themselves in the privacy of their shared chambers, they would become husband and wife in every way. She was anxious, for her knowledge of intimate relations was limited to the things she read in books and heard from the scandalous gossip of others. And Finwë was more experienced than she. Indis hoped to not disappoint him.

Finwë, upon seeing his wife toying with her food, leaned over and whispered, "Is anything amiss, my starlight?"

Indis managed a smile for her husband. "Everything is as it should be," she said, before adding, "I am…filled with thoughts about what is to come after this."

Finwë reached out and took her hand. "As am I," he said, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "But there is no cause for you to worry. I give you my word on this."

Somewhat reassured, Indis turned her attention back to the feast, relishing the warmth of her husband’s hand over hers. Finwë never let go, not unless he had to rise and greet another guest. When the feasting had finished and the dancing began, he offered his arm again.

Everything was like a beautiful dream after that. Minstrels fluted and drummed and trumpeted and sang while revelers danced rounds around the courtyard. Finwë was the soul of attentiveness, leaving his wife’s side only when he had no choice but to do so. He led her in all the dances, his feet as light as air and his touch exceedingly gentle. It was as gentle as the first day he called on her after the Valar had passed their decree, allowing him to marry again. Indis remembered the news and how her heart overflowed with joy. It overflowed with joy even now. For more years than she could count, she had admired Finwë from afar, wondering if they would ever be together. Now they were bound to each other by oath in the sight of Eru and the elves. They danced and sang and laughed, and Indis struggled to hide her mirth when guests deep in their cups shouted bawdy but well-meaning jests. Oh, her cheeks reddened; it was true, but it was from the flush of happiness instead of shame. She continued to dance. Once she finished a turn with her husband, she had a turn with her father, her cousins, and her dear friends. When she was back dancing with her new husband, the music ended, and the dancing slowly came to an end.

A flash of heat crept up her throat while she said her farewells, for the time had come for her and her husband to consummate their vows. Finwë led her around guests and through the courtyard, past the white columns and cool arcades and beautiful gardens and lofty halls with their high ceilings, before reaching a tower set aside for their own particular use. From here, Finwë led his new wife up winding stairways to an airy bedchamber with magnificent views of the city, verdant lands, and the sea beyond all of it. The light of Laurelin waned and mingled with the light of Telperion. The world soon looked like it had been shrouded in a veil of silver. It took Indis’s breath away.

Finwë appearing by her shoulder with a goblet of water, caught her attention. "My thanks," she said, before accepting the drink and studying him discretely.

Her husband was everything an elven king ought to be—tall and proud, and garbed in the finest raiments she had ever seen. His thick black hair had been pulled and teased into a coil at the back of his head. His eyes shimmered like blue lamps, beckoning her to him like a moth to a flame. Indis smiled, her eyes communicating her feelings. She set her goblet down on a little table and pulled the curtains together.

"I am ready," she decided.

"And I will guide you." Finwë took her hand again, this time to lead her to their marriage bed. Red petals had been strewn over soft pelts and softer sheets. Indis barely had time to run her hand over the featherbed before Finwë slipped his arms around her waist and drew her to him.

His kiss was light and long and warm, and it left her short of breath. Indis leaned into him, her mouth parting for his tongue. Finwë sighed softly, his deft and practiced hands making quick work of the clasps and laces on her dress. He took great care not to go too fast and frighten her. When her gown finally loosened, he withdrew and rested his forehead against hers.

"May I?" he said, and smiled when Indis nodded.

Velvet and lace rustled when he tugged her dress up to her waist and then her arms. Slips and stays were next. Finwë then sat on his haunches, lifting her feet one at a time so he could remove her doeskin slippers. Indis moaned in a needy way when his hands glided up her calves and the soft pads of his tapered fingers traced lines all over her skin. Goosebumps prickled and rose when his hot breath danced over her thighs. Finwë took his time to savor every moment. Ever since the passing of Miriel, he had grieved, his loneliness and lack of joy simply growing and growing until he had seen Indis upon the inner slopes of Oiolossë. His heart had filled with hope and love again, and now, with the pledging of vows, Indis was finally his.

With the last of her garments disposed of, Indis stood before her husband, utterly exposed. When Finwë pressed a kiss against her belly and rose to his feet, she felt a wave of boldness wash over her, one that made her reach out and undo the clasps and sashes of his robes. Finwë stood still, giggling with her when she fumbled. It was as if her fingers had all turned into bumbling thumbs. Tunic and boots and breeches joined the growing pile on the marble floor. Indis reached back and began to undo the coil that kept up his hair. It took a while, but with his guidance, his hair soon spilled free like ink. Indis turned away, heat blooming in her cheeks, when Finwë stood before her, naked.

"Look at me," he insisted.

Indis did so slowly and hesitantly. Finwë came closer, running his hands all over her arms, her glorious hair, smiling when he witnessed fresh color bloom in her cheeks. He ran his thumb over her lips before groaning softly, sliding his arms around her, and kissing her again, this time with heat and passion. This time Finwë kissed her long and hard and deep, leaving her breathless and making her unravel against him. Indis grew bolder still, exploring the expanse of her husband’s body with her hands. The muscles quivering beneath her palms, the hair that slipped around her fingers like silk—it was all a marvel to her. Her hands went lower still, and Finwë gasped under his breath when she grasped that rigid part of him. The warmth of her touch was enough to feed the fire already growing in his belly. He placed his hand over hers and said, "Here, starlight. Like this."

Indis was overcome with silent wonder while her husband showed her how he liked to be touched. She had been afraid it would be hard, but Finwë showed it was incredibly easy. She stroked unceasingly, whimpering when his free arm slid around her and drew her even closer. She looked at him and saw with her own eyes how pleasure and yearning flashed in his own. Finwë continued to guide her, moaning against her hair when her tempo slowly morphed into a merciless rhythm. His eyes closed and his breath quickened. His chest started to heave while need lashed at him like new coils. He leaned forward and kissed Indis on the mouth, gently pulling her hand away when his release drew near. He led her to their bed and had her sit down on the edge of it.

Indis wondered what her husband would do next. When Finwë gracefully sank to his knees before her, she understood what he was going to do. Finwë grinned wickedly when his wife parted her legs for him of her own accord.

"I have heard about this act," Indis confessed. "And read about it. Is that bad?"

"No," Finwë replied. "It is not. Forewarned is forearmed, so the others say. Are you ready?"

When Indis smiled and assented, Finwë dipped his head, eager to taste. The sharp intake of breath that ripped through his wife was like sweet music to his ears. The taste of her arousal was sweet against his tongue. He grunted each time he ran his tongue over her folds, his fingers digging into her pale thighs when she moaned and started to roll her hips. Indis grabbed onto the sheets, her nails nearly tearing at the soft fabric when her husband flicked his tongue against her pearl. She could feel her arousal seeping out of her while Finwë feasted like an elf half-starved. The obscene sounds of his grunts only heightened her bliss, and made the muscles in her belly coil and tighten. When she threw her head back and whispered, "So close," Finwë drew away.

"There is more," he said, rising and pushing her onto her back. "Move a little higher, starlight."

Indis moved her way higher up the featherbed. Finwë inched his way over her, kissing her thighs and her belly and the soft swell of her breasts. Indis felt no shame, only pride, when fresh need filled her husband’s darkened eyes. Her legs parted again, this time resting over Finwë’s hips.

"Did the books you read tell you about this?" Finwë questioned. He rubbed his tip against her entrance, entering her with shallow thrusts to prepare her.

"They did," Indis mewled desperately. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine how wonderful it felt to have her husband inside of her. "But… but I suppose reading is not the same as experiencing it in the flesh."

"Indeed," Finwë agreed. "You can grab on to me, starlight. You will not hurt me."

Nails dug into his back when he plunged, slowly and gently, to greater depths. Finwë moaned again, this time when his wife sheathed him in her warmth. He kept still, letting her grow used to him being inside of her. Indis squirmed at first. It was uncomfortable and a little painful, but then Finwë urged her to take deep breaths in time with his. With each new breath she took, the discomfort and pain ebbed away, and a slow, creeping pleasure took its place. Indis no longer wanted her husband to stay still. She wanted him to move and begged wantonly for it.

Far be it from Finwë to deny his bride. Locked in each other’s embrace, they kissed each other and whispered sweet words of endearment even as they lost themselves in each other’s flesh. Indis unraveled even more than she thought possible, this time when languid, rocking motions sent jolts of fire shooting up her spine. It was too much. Finwë dipping his head and sucking down on the flesh of her throat was too much. The mark his teeth left on his skin was too much. The way he filled her, completely and deeply, was too much. She reared up and kissed him, moaning into his mouth as he brought them both closer to the edge. Her hands fisted in his hair. His arms pulled her into his embrace. Shockwaves gripped her entire body while her vision blurred and the world seemed to darken in her eyes.

"Faster, my lord," she pleaded, so close was she to falling apart. There, my lord. Right there. Oh…"  

One final thrust was all it took. One last, deep, final thrust, and Indis cried out, as if her body had been a spring that had coiled tightly before it snapped. Time itself seemed to slow down. So consumed was she in the fiery maelstrom that had enveloped her that she barely heard Finwë choke out a sob while a warm torrent of his spend filled her.

Indis’s breath was still ragged and shallow when she finally opened her eyes. She found Finwë hovering over her, his arms trembling from the exertion. The kiss that followed was filled with warmth and tenderness instead of fire and passion. Indis pressed her hand over his chest, just to feel his heart beating.

"Will there be more?" She asked hopefully.

Finwë chuckled before pulling out of her and slumping to her side. "Yes," he promised. "But after we had rested a little while."

Tags: @cilil

#silmsmutweek #finwë #indis #finwë x indis #finwë smut #indis smut #finwë imagine #indis imagine #the silm #the silm smut #the silm imagine #💫a world of whimsy writes

[firein-thesky]

My darling cielo 🥺✨ thank you so much for taking the time to write spooky drabbles!!!!

So…I would LOVE to see your take on spooky fae Gojo 👀 🥀

Im sending you all my love and early Halloween candy!!!

hello erika my love!!

and OF COURSE! i will give you some spooky fae gojo!!

sending you sweets and treats and love too! thank you for requesting!!

dark fae!gojo x reader

cw: a smidge of predator/prey

***

You peer into the forest.

It peers back.

Bare birch trees, their leaves freshly fallen, stand stark white against the bleak sky, the ground laden in burnt gold and copper. Berry bushes with fruit overripe with late autumn hang heavily along the path, tempting, perhaps overly sweet smelling. Cloying.

You know this path well and have walked it many times.

You hug your cloak, worn and navy, tighter as the wind kicks up. Brisk, hungry wind. The type that bites.

The sun is fading, watery light streaming through the trees and you never want to be out here past sundown. As if to warn you, the caw of a magpie above you, it's wings twinged a vicious, bright blue.

It takes to flight, shimmers in the dying light.

You begin your journey back; you should make it just in time.

You know the path, you tell yourself, even as you move deeper and the trees grow thicker. As the forest swarms you, surrounds you. A strange fork in the road—you don't remember it being so soon. You take your usual left.

The path veers sharply. The wind howls.

Strange...you could've sworn—

You peer into the forest.

A pair of eyes peers back.

You yelp in surprise, lurching away from the figure now in a grove of trees.

Your hackles rise and something deep and innate and raw clangs inside your furiously heaving chest. Run, it screams, run.

You are frozen, a fawn uncertain, still as you can be.

He's tall and long-limbed, unnaturally so. His hair is the color of the birch trees, of spun starlight, a shock of white, vines curling atop his head, plush flowers and berries halo him. His eyes as brilliant as the magpie's wings.

“Hello, little sparrow.” And when he smiles, his teeth are sharp, a flash of white.

You lurch like you might run, jerk away from him but something catches you. Keeps you.

“You have something of mine.” He hums, waltzing towards you in an easy, lazy gate. He bends down suddenly, shoulders at a slanted angle, as he puts his face in yours.

Your heart rabbits quick and hard. He’s inhumanly beautiful with white lashes and glass skin. This close, you notice—his ears. Delicately pointed. Sharp. His canines, sharper.

His finger, nimble and long, dip into your neckline and now you really do stumble away from him. But he’s snagged the necklace you wear; just a smooth, river stone on a cord that you’d found when you were small and—he’s grabbed it. Keeps you held around the neck with it, like a little leash.

“I’ve had this since I was a child,” you manage to get out, “it’s mine. It can’t be yours.”

It is one of the only things that has lasted your whole life.

He tsks, tugging gently, “not at all. You stole this from me some time ago.” His eyes flash like a crack of lightning, and oh god his teeth are so, so sharp—“I’ve come to take it back.”

You pull hard until the stone is yanked from his hands. It thuds dully against your chest, reverberating against your heart.

This time, you listen to the animal in you that says run.

Your feet hit the earth. Wildly, you peer into the forest. You feel it peer back.

It blurs before you. Night swallows the sky.

But you hear his laugh, near and yet far, behind you and yet in front of you, surrounding you.

You force your legs to move faster, harder, feel the ache deep in your bones. You don’t dare look back. You grab at the wildly swinging stone to still it. It’s freezing cold.

“That’s okay,” and you feel his voice like a lovers caress;

“I love a chase.”

***

i hope you enjoyed a lil dash of him erika!!!!! genuinely would love to write more of fae gojo!!!

send me a monster and a character and i’ll write a drabble!

#i hope you’ve had a lovely day!!!!! #thank you for requesting!!!! #he is wretched!!! #cielo plays! #cielo writes! #cielo chats!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Twenty-Six

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Dubious Sexual Advances, Attempt Manipulation, Nudity (Which Morpheus is Def Appreciating Silently)(He’ll Never Admit Tho).

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later). 

Word Count: ~3.9k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Fingers were once again brushing across your cheek in gentle strokes that stroked your skin in a repetitive motion that made you sigh and snuggle towards the warmth you could feel next to you. Now those fingers were brushing against your neck, leading towards a more seductive touch, one that twisted and spun your mind up in a tizzy. You would love to get lost in that desirable touch. One that brought out both the best and the worst in you. But you were supposed to be in the bath, alone. Your eyes flew open and with a startled gasp, you jerked yourself away from Desire, once again, and put as much distance between them as you could.

“What the bloody hell, Desire!?” You exclaimed, your cheeks rushing with embarrassed warmth. Desire just grinned at you like they always do and curled their nails. 

“Oh come now, Y/N,” They purred out, gold eyes glittering seductively. “You know I would never hurt you, certainly not when you’re looking so delicious.”

Horror seeped into your veins and you quivered in place, now feeling just how much clothing you were wearing. Or lack thereof. Your eyes slowly looked down at your body and you were pretty sure if you could shift into a tomato, you would. At the very least, you weren’t entirely naked… but just about. Desire had pulled you into their realm and stuck you into a lingerie that was almost one hundred percent see-through and full of delicate lace. One takeaway was that it was your favorite color… but that didn’t make up for the fact that the Endless could see your fucking nipples. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave Desire one of your best bitch faces. They gave you another grin. 

“I just want to eat you up!” 

“I’m not a piece of meat!!” You barked back at them before trying to focus on the mental connection you spent so much time trying to block. 

Morpheus? Morpheus if you can hear me I really need your help. Your psycho little sibling ran off with me again and I really don’t want to deal with their sexual advances.

Nothing. You pursed your lips and tried again, and again. 

Morpheus!

Then once more because perhaps you weren’t doing it right. 

MORPHEUS, I SWEAR TO GOD, GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE!!

Still nothing. What use was being bonded to an Endless if you couldn’t even bloody contact them when you really needed them!?

“I can see you trying to call for him,” Desire purred their Cheshire smile widening. A flash of pristine white teeth and a laugh. “He won’t hear you, I didn’t bring you here in body this time, my little starlight. You’re still fast asleep in that lovely bathwater like a siren calling out. You’re entirely… irresistible.” 

You scowled at Desire, trying your hardest to look entirely displeased by their actions. Morpheus had been ever so enraged with you the last time you crossed paths, all over a mark his younger sibling had left. Desire would no doubt tempt more if you let them. Morpheus surely would feel something was amiss… right? Or at least the twins would try to wake you up at the very least. You just had to stall them long enough for someone to catch on that you had been yanked from your body… or whatever this was. 

“Why must you tease him so?” You questioned, trying to get to a topic that didn’t make you feel like melting into an embarrassed puddle. “Or do you like picking fights with your siblings?” 

Desire aired out a chuckle and rolled over, then stretched their limbs like a cat would after a nap. They stretched out every finger and toe they possessed before gracefully rising from their red lounge. Now they were prowling towards you. You backed up in time with their steps. 

“Oh my darling little starlight, how else am I meant to entertain myself?” They drew out with a whimsical chuckle. “It’s all fun and games. What’s the harm?”

“What’s the harm?” You repeated incredulously. “Desire your fun and games are— do you have any idea what I have to put up with being bonded to a territorial Endless who gets pissy every time I try to get some sort of comfort or affection from someone else!?”

“Of course, that’s the game is it not?” Desire continued to prowl forward and you backed yourself up into a wall, wobbling when your hands tried to steady yourself, only to find that the wall seemed to be, well, beating. Bloody hell, what have you done, Y/N! This is precisely what you wanted to avoid! Desire stepped right up into your personal space, the frills from their outfit brushing against your bare skin and making you shiver. You tried pressing further back into that beating wall, they pushed forwards. You then let out a whimper. Desire was quick to shush you, their hand coming up to stroke the side of your face. “You shine so brightly, Y/N. Wouldn’t you rather have someone who actually desires you? All he is doing is snuffing out your bright light so no one can see you. Do you not deserve to be loved by someone who actually appreciates you? I can’t image how lonely you must feel.”

Was Desire insinuating what you think they were? Most likely. 

You shook your head in defiance. No, no, the mere thought of being with someone other than Morpheus pushed daggers into your heart, flayed your nerves, and even the idea of loving someone other than him felt life-destroying. 

“No, no I can’t. That would destroy me.” You whispered, already feeling a pang of emotional betrayal at the thought. “I am his and he is mine, that’s how it works does it not? What do you suggest… I— no, I am the bonded of Morpheus, Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares. That is all I will ever be.“

“Would it be so painful to be with the one who actually loves you, worships you as you deserve…” Desire reached forward and brushed their fingers beneath the little slip of sheer fabric covering your abdomen. Their fingers pressed against your hip and ever so gently pushed upwards, caressing every inch they found in a way that had you sinking your teeth into your lip to stop the sounds that wanted to come forth. Desire’s eyes bored into yours until all you saw was gold. 

Your body fell into a state of in-between, transfixed by Desire’s eyes and lethargic to his touch. All thoughts of Morpheus went out the window and that panicked thought and feeling of loving someone else, faded from your mind. Your arms dropped to your sides and you swayed. 

A pleased smile crossed Desire’s lips and their touch brushed up your ribs, drawing shivers from you that pushed your body into theirs. Lips then brushed across your cheeks and you heard a chuckle. 

“Don’t you want to be loved, my little starlight?” You wanted to be loved, you wanted to be loved so much. You would give anything to be loved. You would give anything to stop feeling so alone and hurt. Your hypnotized eyes, mirroring the gold you stared into, flickered in hesitancy. Desire pressed their lips against your neck, slowly traveling upwards with little kisses and bites that made it hard to think straight. “Give in to me, darling, you’ll feel so much better.” 

Would you?

A finger traced the curve of your hipbone, sneaking its way down to the narrow lace string that held the thong you wore around your hips. Then a lusty feeling of warmth followed and your back arched, wanting more of that warmth. You felt powerless to the charm and hypnotism that enraptured your mind, your only thought being that you just wanted to be loved. Desire pushed their thumb beneath the little lace string and dipped the digit inward, tracing more skin, closer to their desired destination. Little you longed for what they offered so much that you fell far too easily beneath their spell. Your body was theirs to manipulate, and you felt that you would let them do anything to you. Just to have that little feeling of being wanted, of being loved. You would let—

An electric shock zapped its way up your spine and your back arched from the uncomfortable feeling. That haze of lust and want rippled and faded. Then a deep, agonizing pain scorched your heart. Loneliness. Hurt. Longing. Melancholy. Agony. Despair. You broke free and let out a gasp. Your vision then flickered and you felt a tugging sensation harshly rip at your limbs. Scorching pain filled your body. Desire’s golden eyes tightened, but they still held that teasing, a noxious smirk on their lips. 

“It seems that you’ve been found, my little starlight, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” They purred, shortly before the fingers slipped into your hair and dragged your head back. You choked on a gasp when your body felt like it was being ripped between worlds like something was fighting over your mental form. But before that feeling took over, Desire managed to have the last laugh. “Enjoy one more gift from me, my precious kitten!” Their lips landed on yours in a demanding kiss, but one that felt forbidden and wrong. Surprise and alarm exploded in your chest, your arms weakly pushing against smooth skin. Feeling like your heart was being ripped in two, you nearly let out a scream… but then you were harshly yanked away from Desire’s noxious embrace and unwanted advances. Tumbling around in what felt like a tornado whipping your body every which way, you felt something ripping into your mind. Your mind folded in on itself. 

You surfaced from the water with a wheeze and a violent cough, feeling water pour from your mouth as your body harshly expelled it. But water in your lungs was the least of your concerns at the moment. A heart-splitting pain was ripping your chest apart to the point where you were writhing in place, your hands and nails clawing at whatever they could reach. In your thrashing, coughing panic, you could barely feel that someone was holding your body close to theirs and trying to get you to look at them. You were too overwhelmed by pain and panic to do anything other than flail and hyperventilate. Those strong arms were quickly rectifying your flailing, trapping your wet body against another in a steel grip. Then a hand was forcing your head to turn so you were looking into starry eyes. Morpheus. What was he doing here? And why were you in so much pain right now?

“Y/N, you’re alright, you are safe,” Morpheus spoke, his voice only did so much to quell the rippling pain. You physically jerked in his arms once more, fighting to get away from… something. He didn’t let you, holding your struggling limbs tighter. Another surge of nausea hit you and your body shuddered as you coughed up a few more drops of water.Head turning away, you heaved over and over, throwing up nothing despite your body’s attempts. It was trying to get rid of something. Morpheus stroked his fingers along your shoulder, trying to provide what comfort he could. 

“Hurt, why does it hurt?” You sputtered out in-between rapid breaths. Your right hand clapped to your bare chest and your nails sunk into your skin. You felt like clawing your heart from your chest. You damn near bloody well tried. A violent whimper slipped from your trembling lips. Morpheus was forcing your hand away from your skin, stopping you from ripping your skin bloody. Marks were already forming on your precious skin. You tried fighting against his hold and he had to tighten his grasp. 

“Y/N stop, you’re going to hurt yourself!” He replied, his voice rising. You still struggled against him, your legs kicking out and splashing the bathwater. Morpheus grabbed your other hand and pulled it to his chest, placing it over where his heart would lay while leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours with a soft hush. You froze in place, your chest heaving in exertion and stabbing pain, but your mind hyper-fixing on the hum of connection beneath your fingers. “You are safe, my dream, you are safe.” He whispered, his fingers pushing your wet hair plastered to your face, to the side. Your wide, pain and fear-filled eyes, could not break eye contact. Your lips trembled as you tried to form words. Morpheus brushed his thumb over your lower lip. “Focus on your breathing.” He coaxed.

Clear and concise orders from him helped to quell the panic racing through your veins, and squeezing your eyes shut, you felt hot tears run down the sides of your cheeks as you struggled to control your breathing so you weren’t hyperventilating anymore. Feeling that you weren’t trying to fight him anymore, he relaxed his hold on your limbs. Between concentrating on your breathing and feeling the steady hum of life beneath your palm, your violent shudders quelled and your fingers moved to grip his shirt. Appeased that you were no longer shaking and hyperventilating in terror, Morpheus gathered you within his arms and carried you from the cold water of your bath. 

 It was only then that your fractured mind vaguely recognized that you were shivering. But you weren’t shivering from being cold, you were shivering from being terrified. Confusion raced through your brain, Morpheus had just brought you out of the bath. What the bloody hell had just happened? You had no idea and that put fear within your bones like nothing before. 

Wrapped up in Morpheus’s long black coat, which magically hadn’t gotten wet despite his venture into the cold bathwater, you sat on your bed and tried not to flinch every time someone moved even a centimeter. Hemponia and Lantana were hovering in the background worried out of their minds and yet not wanting to set you off, while Lucienne and Morpheus quietly spoke. You weren’t paying any attention to their words, your mind focusing on the heart-shattering ache you still felt in your chest. Even your fingers were still itching to claw at your skin, wanting to claw out your agonized heart for relief. It took everything you had to keep your fingers sunk into the black material around your shoulders. The pain you felt… it was the worst kind of heartbreak pain, one you hadn’t felt before, but definitely knew what it was. Out of the corner of your eye, Lucienne bowed her head and went to speak with Hemponia and Lantana. The three of them departed your bedroom, leaving you alone with Morpheus. 

You couldn’t help the flinch when he approached you. A surge of anger flooded Morpheus’s veins. He didn’t like that you had flinched away from him. He didn’t like that at all. What reason should you, his beloved dream, ever have to flinch away from him?

“Y/N, may I look through your memories?” He gently asked, dropping down on one knee in front of you so you were at eye level. You found that you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him, guilt was eating away at you like acid. Your hands tightened their grip. You then glanced at him for a moment before reluctantly giving him a meager nod. 

You couldn’t remember what had happened, or what had caused this type of agonizing pain, Morpheus was your best chance at finding out. Ever so slowly, Morpheus held out his hand, signaling that you would be the one to initiate it. Clenching the jacket in one hand, you lifted a trembling hand and ever so slowly placed it in his. He was careful to maintain slow action and gently wrapped his fingers around your hand. A wave of calm gently lapped at your worry, easing some of the nervous energy that still had you wired. You let out a shuddering breath and felt the flair of connection between you. Feeling the soft connection, you closed your eyes for a moment and relaxed a little. Then you felt Morpheus’s displeasure and frustration. Opening your eyes, you looked at him. 

“What is it?” You softly croaked out, your voice on the verge of cracking as one of your bare legs nervously bounced in rapid motion. It was a tick that didn’t go unnoticed. Morpheus placed his hand on your knee to stop its tick, his warm and soft touch soothing. Despite not wanting to be touched, this was one touch you didn’t want to see go. Eyes lifting from his gentle touch on your knee, you looked up into his gaze.

“Your memories are barred from me, I cannot access them.” He explained, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. This complicated things, for there were very few capable of doing so.

“I’m not doing it, at least not on purpose.” Your whispered words had Morpheus briefly shaking his head and rubbing his thumb over the crest of your knee in reassurance. 

“No, it is not your doing. Whoever did this to you had intentions to ensure I wouldn’t find out exactly what they did.” Morpheus said, his eyes clouding in thought. Even Morpheus didn’t know what happened? That was not good. You retracted your hand from his, trying not to think about the way your fingers slipped from his, he hadn’t fully loosened his grip. It was almost like he hadn’t wanted to let go. Your gaze dropped back to your thigh and the slivers of skin revealed from where the long coat didn’t cover your skin. Then you looked at the lingering touch on your knee. “You should get some rest.”

You said nothing to his words. You didn’t need or want rest, you wanted freedom from the taxing emotional pain that had picked you up, spun you around, shaken you about, and then dropped you back to your very unsteady feet. You felt like you were going drown in them. Your shoulders dropped and your hands loosened their grip. Morpheus’s coat slipped down your left shoulder to reveal a generous amount of skin, and the part of your chest you had clawed. Morpheus seethed on the inside at the idea that something had put such fear in you that you had clawed yourself to injury. You didn’t bother recovering yourself, your eyes set in an empty stare that focused on nothing. 

“Y/N,” Your eyes lifted back up to his. “Do you require assistance?”

Oh, how you wanted to say yes. You wanted every chance to tease and torment him with your body. To draw out some sort of reaction in retaliation for his indecisive treatment of you. Be spiteful. Be mean. Be tempting. Be something other than this numb state of pain and anguish that held an unknown origin. 

“I think I should like to be alone.” You finally spoke, your voice devoid of emotion and your eyes focusing on your feet in refusal to meet his eyes once more. You could feel the trickles of dissatisfaction with your words, but he didn’t air out how he felt. It was agony for both of you when he retracted his hand from your knee. Morpheus rose to his full height and for a brief moment, reached out to brush the clump of hair you had been using to hide behind, out of your face. You trembled beneath his touch.

“If you need me, you only have to call for me,” Morpheus said, his words washing over your skin like a warm blanket. You squeezed your eyes shut. Given the raging feeling of guilt you felt, you hardly believed you were deserving of calling upon him. So you let him stride from the room without another word or look. Left to yourself and your corrosive thoughts, you finally took stock of your body. You had not one mark on you, save for the ones from your own nails, so nothing bad happened… right? Your soul had left your body, you hadn’t physically been moved. So what had happened that you felt like you had betrayed the one being you could no longer live without?

You didn’t feel worthy of being wrapped up in his coat, and you quickly stood up and flung it from your body, watching as it fluttered through the air until it landed near the balcony doors. It had landed so the inner part of the jacket was lying up, and you could see the vast starry skies imprinted within the material, glittering and sparkling. Not only did Morpheus have stars in his eyes but he wore the galaxy around his shoulders. Was there a more perfect and ethereal being in the universe? No. Never. 

Feeling drained and inadequate, you wandered over to where your clothes were neatly folded and put away. You then changed into a soft tank top and equally soft shorts. You didn’t feel better, and you were both physically and mentally exhausted. How long would it take for these crippling emotions to fade? You didn’t know. You climbed into your soft bed and wiggled around until you were cocooned by pillows and blankets. A wall of feathered protection, it wouldn’t keep out the haunting thoughts and feelings, but it did provide a fortress of comfort. Rolling onto your side, you made the lights in your room go dark, the only light coming from the nearby hall. You focused on your breathing, trying to will that hurt and discomfort away like it would just magically disappear. 

A tingle of energy buzzed lightly through your veins and you looked closer at the entryway, wondering who was about to come walking through. No one appeared, but then you heard the soft sounds of nails clicking on the marble floor. A feline shadow appeared shortly before a large black cat softly padded his way into your room and made a beeline for your bed. It was larger than any house cat you had ever seen before, but the moment you saw sparkling blue eyes you knew who it was. Following his movement, you watched him effortlessly jump up onto the bed and easily climb over your wall of comfort. 

“I thought I told you that I wished to be alone.” You whispered, your eyes gazing into Morpheus’ bright blues ones. Could a cat raise their eyebrow? You were sure Morpheus was doing so shortly before he stepped right up next to you and plopped himself down against your chest, curling his paws in and blinking at you as if to say ‘I dare you to tell me to leave’. He was just as vexing in feline form as he was in human form. “I do not wish to speak about how I currently feel, Morpheus.” 

He blinked at you once more. He wasn’t going to ask you, you knew that much. But… he wasn’t going to leave, was he… If anything it was like he had come to stand guard over you while you slept. He had. Who knew what would happen to you the next time you fell into your dreams and he was taking no chances with your safety. The Endless had figured you would feel most comfortable with him in this form watching over you. Your eyelids fluttered.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” You weakly commented. Morpheus began purring, the low rumble filling the silent room. You softly sighed and sagged back against the feathers cradling your body. Unable to help yourself and looking for something to distract your mind, you began running your fingers down his silky back. The purring got louder as Morpheus lavished beneath your precious touch. It was divine. As you drifted to sleep your mind vaguely realized something: he was purring so loudly, it was all you could think about. 

Date Published: 11/11/22

Last Edit: 8/20/23

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#dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream the endless #lord morpheus #sandman x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #the sandman netflix

[auraee]

- 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘... -

❈ 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 ~ It's rather short piece, but here it is! All in all I can say I am proud of it as this something I wrote to get back into the writing spirit and I wanted to write something that allows me to swoonaboutanewfictionalcrushIhave! I must say, the calvary captain has a grip on me and is not letting go of me any time soon😭

❈ Tagging ~ @comatosebunny09 @wanderingfaee @seimorponekami (Thank you so much for being supportive you're all so lovely!)🥹

ℝ𝕖𝕔𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕖 ~ Prelude ~ TwoSetViolin

❈ Happy reading!

Perhaps I should be angry. 

Only, I don’t have the heart to. 

Even so…

How dare she.

I wonder if she looks at others with those eyes, if she talks to others with a voice that soothes their hearts as she does with me. Under a slew of untampered reports, I found myself sauntering through a dream. 

She stood alone on a balcony admiring the drowsy sun. I hadn’t yet approached her. I just wanted to observe her in that peaceful moment. My gaze roamed along what I could see of her. She wore a dress that I could only imagine was made of starlight, sparkling in tune with everything else about her. A subtle wind revealed her legs through the slit in her gown. In a tight embrace the gown held her figure, wandering over the curves of her body, accenting all the parts that she was fond of. Her hair appeared ridiculously soft, almost cloud-like. A few stray coiled umber strands tucked way behind her left ear to display her seafoam earrings. Her bronze skin was breath-taking. Grimmering with streaks of gold only entrusted to her. A gift. Hailed by wanderlust skies of this dreamland as its most adorned creation.

My skies. 

She had seduced me without ever once trying. Being timid by nature, she’d tend to shy away from my advances, lacking the means to return my words with ones of her own. A reaction that had only just captured my attention because it came from her.

“_______?”

Her name slipped from my lips in a notion only just conjured recently. Perhaps she didn’t notice my presence on her from a while ago. 

My heart pounded in my chest, awaiting for her answer.

 _______ jumped and spun around to face me. Her doe eyes struck mine with surprise while her fingers just ghosted her mouth in a futile attempt to hide her squeal. The rhythmic pace in my chest quickened, the tamed smile I had previously grew tenfold. 

“Kaeya! You startled me!” She said, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was only admiring the view beyond the balcony. Though, I must say...” 

I stepped forward, a chuckle leaving me in cadence to her surprise. “You compliment it rather well.”

______ parted her lips before rolling them back in. Her gaze darted away from mine, holding its stance with what I assume was my collarbone in search of what to say.

“Thank you…” She said, puckering her lips up to form a smile. “You… look wonderful too.”

Moments after she spoke, my attention fell elsewhere, lingering on her lips. Plump. Tinted with the colour of wine and— Gods, did I wonder what they tasted like. Without much thought, I reached for her cheek. Warmth emanating from them confirmed her flustered state. Cute. With heat bubbling from my own features, I ventured closer— curious to know if she would reciprocate, and she, though hesitant, did. Our lips drew ever closer, until she stopped.

“...Why do you deny me your taste, sweetheart?” I said to her, my thumb trailing her lower lip delighted to watch it bounce in response.

______ stuttered, her half-lidded eyes returning to their doe-like state. “I-I got nervous. I’m sorry. I’ll—”

I cut her off.

The kiss blossomed a warmth that I had almost forgotten I craved. It coated me in such bliss that no beverage could achieve no matter how much I drank of it. My hand cupped her waist, lulling her body closer to mine til our bodies pressed together in honeyed ecstasy. Her curiosity allowed her hands to wander, bringing them up to rest on my chest, her dainty fingers clutching my shirt ever so slightly. My mind was a flurry with both everything and nothing at all. I pressed forward, overtaken by greed as I demanded more of her— I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Our lips parted for a moment. With my teeth I nibbled, tugging at her lower lip to lure her back. Humming, ______ rose to the tips of her toes and deepened the kiss.

I had dreamt of kissing her. 

My… I’ve really lost myself, haven’t I?

❈ Like what you read? Consider reblogging, commenting or leaving a tip! - 𝕂𝕠-𝕗𝕚

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If you’re just going to like this post— don’t. Likes don’t do anything for me. They don’t help in any way shape or form. So please don’t like my work if you’re not willing to reblog them as well.

- 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 -

❀ 𝔸𝕟 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 ⚘ ꕤ 𝕀𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 ⚘ ❁ 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟

#kaeya fluff #kaeya x black reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #genshin fluff #genshin kaeya

[perpetualcynicism]

𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊 — 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢.

𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔳𝔢. 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔬. 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯.

——————————————————————

That evening, your thoughts were troubled.

Because of the old woman’s words, you could not be at ease for the length of your walk back. Over and over again your mind drifted to her warnings—in fact, not once were these not the object of your attention for the whole while—and even by the time the sun had set and the first starlight bled into the sky, you were yet to be sure what to make of it.

She had assured you that he was only myth, and yet spoke as though he were real. You had come to her for answers, for some sense of clarity in the haze of your confusion, and had left with more questions than you began with. 

Were you to listen to her, and accept the mystery of his tale as only that; a fairytale? To forget the experience entirely, and act as though it had never happened? 

Or were you to give in to the curiosity and questions whispering in your mind, and disregard her warnings for the sake of true, solid answers?

Such questions you pondered for a long time, fiddling absentmindedly with a flower of the same kind you had left for him between your fingers as you sat in your home until the tall wax candle-lamp in your study had burnt itself into a disfigured stump flickering with a dying light and cast long shadows onto the walls, flickering and misshapen. Upon seeing these shadows you felt a cold shudder rattle down your spine, for they reminded you so very much of those you had seen in the woods: hungry and moving and waiting for you with their velvet touch. 

You turned your back to the shadows and focused closely on the dying candlelight, and tried to convince yourself that the shadows weren’t there.  

In the night-filled silence, curiosities whispered in your ears; questions, notions. You could almost hear them speaking if you listened closely enough, perching on your shoulder and murmuring to you with enticing temptations and sweet-tongued desire. Desire for answers, for knowledge; for understanding about this mysterious figure whom you knew nothing about and yet occupied your thoughts so selfishly. 

As such thoughts spun webs in your mind, you watched the candle flame burn with a blank and distant stare, seeing pearly beads of melting wax slide down its pitiful length in your peripheral. A pool of shining liquid had begun to gather in a little dip around the blackened wick. It glowed with a sheen of gold where the yellow flame licked its molten edges. 

As the light dimmed, your determination grew ever brighter. You twirled the flower through your fingers faster and faster in barely withheld anticipation. You could no longer resist the entice of the questions which gnawed on your conscience, no matter how many times you looked back upon the dark shade of the old woman’s eyes. 

As she said (and if her words were true), he was only a fairytale, and a fairytale could not harm you. 

A fairytale could not, but the woods can, a small voice called from the depths of your mind, and halted your spinning thoughts. A momentary hesitation seized you.

…No. You needed to know.

As the final wisp of flame was about to fade into the night, you rose from your seat of contemplation and made for the door, the grip on the flower stem tight. You swiped up a protection charm hanging from the wall (just in case something went wrong) and pulled your cloak around your shoulders, finding comfort in the familiar way the material hugged your body. The tear which had once lined its hem was sewn up with a dark green patch, the work hasty but not badly done.

You pushed open your door with a soft creak and, savouring an inhale of crisp air, took your first step into the night.

In your study, the candle-lamp finally burned out.

——————

The village was silent, suspended in sleep. You could hear the soft knock of your boots against cobblestone with each of your brisk steps.

As you made your way along paths illuminated by moonlight, the stars were the only witness to your endeavours, watching you silently from above with an air of shining indifference. 

The surroundings were dark; so dark that sometimes all you could see was an ocean of ink before you. But you knew these pathways well, and could navigate them even on the blackest of midnights. All you needed to navigate was the stars, and this night, they were plentiful. 

The air was cold, and stung your throat pleasantly with each inhale. You could smell the faint aroma of night-blooming flowers lingering in the breeze, and pictured their delicate white buds unfurling in your mind’s eye, brilliant and silver as the moon itself. 

The cold pricked at your skin, and you tugged your cloak around yourself further.

Soon the path grew sparse and thin, giving way instead to thick, twisting roots and lush greenery that spanned the forest floor so densely that the earth beneath was invisible under the mat of vegetation. The cobbled path became gravel, and gravel soil, and few steps later it had vanished altogether into the blanket of ferns underfoot. Huge trees rose along your sides, their canopies verdant and wide trunks wisened with age. 

This did not deter you, however; you knew the forest as well as any night-roaming woodland creature here would. 

There was a continuous hush in the trees, leaves stirred by a cool breath of wind, and the occasional rustle of ferns in the wake of some scampering rodent. Somewhere high above to your left, the cry of an owl echoed into the night. A chorus of crickets trilled from somewhere within the floor-lying ferns. 

(It seemed to you that these were not noises of the forest, but music.)

A little while later the forestry opened up into a clearing. Within it swayed a circle of grass, the green of each blade so dark under the blanket of night they appeared almost blue. You slipped past budding flowers and large-leafed bushes and into the centre, where a small boulder, misshapen and coated with moss, stood.

Your heart sank a little to see upon it the flower you had left here a handful of days ago, the stem now wilted and a few lifeless petals scattered atop the stone. Secretly, you had hoped that it would have been taken, and now an air of disappointment settled around you. With a reluctant sigh, you picked up the dead flower and placed it among the grass. 

Perhaps the old woman was right. There was no man who lived in the woods, no sorcerer, no magician: it was nothing more than a fairytale, and your experience had merely been a panic-induced dream on the edge of delirium, spinning mere stories into deceiving images of reality.

Or… or perhaps he had simply not seen the flower? You had placed it quite a distance from the woods, and if he were truly unable to leave, it was entirely possible he had no way of knowing you had left the flower for him, much less accepting it. 

Of course, if this were the case, it meant you would have to venture towards the woods once more, and you did not fancy getting lost for a second time: say he was not real, or if he was, he did not appear to you as he did before; if such a thing were to happen, you had no doubt you would never make it out of the woods again.

And yet despite all caution pleading otherwise, you closed your eyes and steeled your nerves. 

As long as you did not stray into the woods, it could do nothing to you.

With these words in mind and turning them over and over in your head like a mantra in the attempt to ease your nerves, you followed the map of your mind’s eye to where you knew the edges of the forest began to fray. Careful to keep to only the side on which flowers grew, you edged slowly along the border, keeping your face angled away from the withering darkness only inches away. You fixed your gaze on the grass beneath your feet, and counted every step.

Your foot knocked against a tree stump, and you paused. Shifting your eyes from your feet to the stump (which was almost as thick as your arm span and rose only a fraction shy of your knee), you inspected the wood. A tooth of pale fungus jutted horizontally from gnarled bark overgrown with patches of pale green lichen that would flake off to the touch. Where the rest of the tree would have risen from was a relatively flat surface, though the edges were knobbed and uneven; even a little sharp in places, reminding you of a mouth lined with teeth. The numerous rings within the tree told you that it was old; very old, in fact, perhaps even ancient. The tree must have died long ago, and lived before that even more so. 

This will do, you decided.

Crouching down in the grass, you drew the fresh flower from your cloak and laid it on the stump, casting a spell over it as you did so: a simple gimmick to ensure that no forest critter would be tempted to take the flower for themselves and fool you into believing your thank-you had been acknowledged. 

Then, keeping your back turned to the grey maw of the woods, you walked back to the village briskly and in silence.

—————————————————————

The cracking of dry twigs underfoot, and wind chimes.

A cold blue light slid between the grey silhouettes of tall, thin trees. Shadows recoiled as the light fell upon them, slipping away into pools darkness where the lantern’s glow did not reach. 

The sorcerer walked at a steady pace, unbothered by the shadows, a clear clink sounding with each step. Ruby eyes peering straight ahead, he made his way along the path at the edge of the woods, not caring to spare even a glance to the lush greenery of the forest which stood only an arm’s length away. He had no reason to. 

For the sorcerer knew that no matter how many steps he took, no matter how many miles he walked, the forest on the path at the edge of the woods would always be one arm’s length away from him. Nothing more, nothing less. Such was the cruel taunt of the lush canopies that spread to his side, and he no longer found it amusing.

As he walked, he took slight notice of a tree stump to his left, but passed it by. 

Then he realised,

It was less than an arm’s length away. 

The sorcerer halted, and walked back a few paces. His gemstone eyes traced over the twists of bark and veils of lichen, and landed on an object upon the stump’s surface.

A flower, with delicate, curling petals the white of snowdrops that unfurled to reveal a feathery scarlet stamen and a long, thin stem lay across the wood, freshly picked and humming with life. If there had been a moon in the woods, he had no doubt that the petals would have shone silver beneath its pale light.

The sorcerer placed his lantern upon the ground and knelt down. His fingers hovered above the flower, unmoving while he surveyed it with a cold gaze. 

He had not been offered a gift in so very long. Perhaps he should accept it?

And yet the sorcerer hesitated; for accepting this flower was accepting into his life (or whatever word could be used to describe the existence he led) another person, and he had not done that for even longer than he had not received a gift. 

Furthermore, accepting you meant forsaking them. 

He was not willing to make this exchange of loyalties; and never would be. Such a betrayal of trust would render all his years here meaningless—and ever more importantly, would be an insult to their fate and the love he and they had shared.

It was clear, then, that only one choice remained.

The clinking of silver chimes and lantern-light receded back into the woods, soon lost to the curtains of shadows draped upon spindly, skeletal trees.

On the tree stump, a flower whose petals would have shone in absent moonlight lay untouched.

#genshin impact x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #dark sorcerer!cyno

[oldxenomorph]

one-word prompts, #edgy edition: sepulcher + wound

one-word prompts from a while back

i. SEPULCHER

The Sepulchre is the domain of Nyog’sothep, the Milk of the Void, the Magnum Innominadum. It is the house of all death. It is Heaven. It is Sheol. It is a mausoleum where dead universes go to be interred, kept in a cosmic ossuary where their remains are lovingly displayed in the building's structure. Dead stars drip from the arches like pearls, milky white and deep black. Ancient dark matter seeps from the walls, collected and harvested by the Mi-go.

Like all the domains of the Great Family, the immensity of its strange structure and splendor dwarfs the House of Hades, making the chthonic realm seem modest and small in comparison. All the riches of the Earth do not compare to the riches of entire universes, the variations of space and time and existence, their forms and energy contained within opulent reliquaries. In this house, the bodies of ancient supermassive black holes are spun into thread to be used for the Great Family’s finest garments. Nyog’sothep personally handpicked the oldest from her collection to be used for Nyx’s wedding dress and the Emperor’s coronation robe.

Within this domain, Yog-Sothoth was born from Nyog’sothep alone; she formed the Beyond One the same way Azathoth formed her and her brother. These ultraviolet halls remember the childhoods of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Nyog’sothep’s bloodline is black, violet, ultramarine, and gold; her bloodline is the color of the last breath of the universe, all its secrets and knowledge produced within countless eras and epochs, the sun that shatters over Lake Hali, the crushing depth of R’lyeh’s waters. Nyarlathotep’s bloodline is black and red; his blood is color of gore awaiting to be devoured, the madness that fills the space between skull and brain, the ritual that leads you on, the darkness between the stars, the red of sex, the black of death.

(Nyarlathotep likes to brag about the cleverness of his daughter, that through her machinations the Emperor’s second form is of his bloodline by proxy. Nyog’sothep is the first to remind him that Lilith stayed true to the Emperor’s essence in ensuring her genetic independence. “You show your age when you readily engage in mental gymnastics, Crawling Chaos.” Deep down, she is impressed with Lilith’s cunning and internally admits that perhaps her brother and Yhoundeh did do a decent job at imparting their best qualities unto their child.)

Were it up to the Nyog’sothep, she would have had Nyx wait in the Sepulchre until the Emperor’s awakening, allowing the House of Hades to rot into oblivion; she would present her to the great being, dressed and drenched in silks woven from universes that came before and jewels from dead stars.

(The times when Nyx is absent from the House of Hades, she is here in the Sepulchre. It is the closest she can get to the Black Palace, to her beloved that remains asleep. Away from the shades and the House's other residents, the Night Incarnate’s loneliness is amplified, it fills her, it makes her weep, she lets it out of her body before it metastasizes. Eight million years of longing, of waiting. “Your sadness is a loud and aching song, Dearest Night,” the Milk of the Void says. Nyx’s starlight eyes look up at the great entity, they are bright within the darkness of the Sepulchre, this house of all death. Nyog’sothep’s many hands and many tentacles reach forward to gently wipe away the future Empress’s tears, they cup her face, they cradle her, they soothe her. “Things are happening. The Emperor will awaken soon and you will be reunited.” The Milk of the Void places blessings against Nyx’s face, a primordial mother soothing an ancient daughter; the Night no longer belongs to Old Chaos, the Night belongs to Nuclear Chaos.)

Were it up to Nyog’sothep, she would have had the Emperor’s second form raised in Sepulchre, in the same halls and rooms that her child and grandchildren once occupied. She does not share her relatives’ or her children and grandchildren’s obsession with humanity.

(The Milk of the Void takes the hand of the young Emperor-as-Shepard and pulls her closer, placing gentle kisses against her pale cheeks. In reverence, in worship of her Great Lord, of Extinction and all her glorious forms. “Precious Emperor, Blessed Emperor,” she whispers, a set of long fingers from one of her great hands gently touching the being’s face. She observes her and is pleased with Lilith’s work: she will be as beautiful as her true sleeping self, she will be stately and brutal, she will be cold and efficient, she will be devastating, she will be full of love. Nyog’sothep marvels at her vantablack hair, a hand carefully runs through it and she watches as each strand slips from the lightness of her motions. Everything is almost as it should be; soon the Reapers will be hers, soon she will be home in her own magnificent domains, soon she will be wedded to her beloved Night, soon she will be with her family, soon she will rule. The entity's heart pulses as the Emperor-as-Shepard holds a pair of her hands and gently places kisses of reverence on each knuckle. She is honored to receive such a blessing.)

There are rarely any family gatherings in the Sepulchre, certainly none as grand or lively as the ones Cassilda and Hastur host in the Yellow Palace. Nyog’sothep does not entertain her relatives with lavish celebrations, she is as severe as her domain. That does not stop others from visiting, the silence of the Sepulchre’s halls accepting those of the blessed blood; the Emperor’s daughters have been seen exploring the building, finding places to sleep in its arches and buttresses. It is a building that has remained relatively unchanged since Nyog’sothep was gifted it by her parent. It expands with additional chambers very seldomly.

At times, Nyog’sothep as found the Emperor and Nyx having an intimate moment within the Sepulchre, the deep violet darkness pulsing around them; the jewels worn by the Night and the jagged red scars of the Emperor glowing, beautiful and bright just for each other. The Sepulchre ends its silence as it sings softly to its Emperor and Empress, low and haunting, bellowing dirges that awaken the lingering silver flames in pulsars taken from space-time just before they collapsed. The Emperor and Nyx standing before one of the many ornate altars to a long dead universe, its corpse shimmering in the dark; they kiss, the goddess’s slender hand cupping the entity’s face before sliding it down her neck to rest in the middle of her biomechanical chest, in the cold, black valley that contains her sternum. The Emperor eagerly, enthusiastically places kisses against the Night's cheeks, leaving black lipstick imprints against her pale skin, eliciting soft and ethereal sounds of joy from the goddess.

The Milk of the Void observes them and her great form smiles. All is as it should be.

ii. WOUND

Yhoundeh idly observes her daughter from the chaise made of leather and gore, her head propped up by a hand and an elbow resting on the metal bone arm of the furniture. The entity’s pale eyes watch the 12-year-old’s hands as they dip into the gaping hole in the mass of flesh before her, delicate fingers becoming red as they touch writhing viscera, plush fat and meat that has yet to be carved, trimmed, tended to by the sharpness of a knife.

Lilith’s hair is red like blood from a wound. It is long like her mother’s, braided neatly like her mother’s, a thick rope like twisted aortas, adorned with delicate silver ornaments like her mother’s. She has already had her coming-of-age ceremony, her transition from childhood to adolescence. Her horns are starting to come in, they begin to pierce through the flesh of her face; she is growing into the shape she wants, learning how to shift and mold herself just like her parents. Soon she will also have a thousand faces, a thousand names; she will become a terror that haunts civilizations, herald and navigator, an influence feared by organic life; they will invoke her for her darkness, her prowess, they will call out of her, they will love her, they will hate her. The child is the jewel of her father, his pride, half of his own flesh, his dark blood flowing through her black veins.

Hands find tendon and sinew and twist, they tighten around the chords of muscle, slick crimson meat in the cavity; hands wet and glistening in the light of the Red Pyramid. Yhoundeh sees what she is doing: reaching into the opening to see how she can control the building, how she can shape it with her biometrics, how the walls and mechanisms slide against her fingers to click into place with wet sounds. Even in the wound, the gore, the fat, the meat, the membranes react to her, they move in recognition of her blood and the signals in her brain.

It is the twilight hours of the previous universe, before the long darkness until the next one, until Extinction and her beloved Night are born. The Great Family eagerly anticipates the new era, many wishing for the time between then and now to hasten, another several billion years crushed into seconds.

The Lord of Flesh and Lust is in no rush, she knows that her husband has a hand in all this, eager to get ahead of his sister. The Milk of the Void blood has already produced entities of great import, her bloodline and her influence within the Great Family is strong. Nyarlathotep wants his line to be close to the Emperor, protectors of her holy dark material, her caretakers, her chosen. He wants Lilith to have a hand in bringing the Emperor’s second form into being in the new universe, to be her sculptor, her carver. He always wants more for himself, more for his bloodline, more for his influence. Yhoundeh's beautiful, scheming husband.

(But the Emperor will be born the same way Azathoth came into being. Her blood will be annihilation, the next universe and everyone after it will be governed by cycles of extinction; Nuclear Chaos has already designed its gift to her, the symbol and instrument of her all consuming power, now it waits for her to be born. It needs her blessed blood, the black tar, the black ichor.)

“Come here, red daughter.” She calls for Lilith, beckoning her to sit in the empty space so she can hold her child close, to fuss over her, to whisper secrets to her, to shape and sharpen her. The red leather she is clad in creaks when she moves to a more upright position, her gown of gore shifting like fine silk over her lower body as her legs move. Her hand gently holds her child's braid and runs down its length, admiring the beauty she clearly gets from her mother.

Yhoundeh sees that Lilith's fingers, slick and crimson, still move even when neatly placed in her lap. Something deep within the core of the building shifts, a puzzle that's eluded the servitors finally solved; the Red Pyramid groans in relief and expands like lungs, energy flowing through it properly once more. It sings the name of its master's daughter, notes pulled up from the pulsing red darkness, the gore that's stretched across biotechnology.

Cunning girl. She bends Nyarlathotep’s own house to her will, she makes It sing just for her. Yhoundeh's heart is swollen with pride and dark matter inside its cavity, its place within her rib cage. She puts her hand on Lilith’s face and pulls her closer, so her black lips can bless her daughter's cheek. A smile, wide and wicked as she marvels at her child, this creation of her's and Nyarlathotep’s, soul of her blood, soul of her flesh, the future Queen of Blood.

Yhoundeh gently touches the girl's chin and turns her head so they face each other. The young Lilith smiles back at her mother, her red lips and red teeth like a gleeful and joyous wound upon her severe face.

#messages from the deep #echthr0s #the great family #GAVE ME A REAL CHALLENGE.... SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE #two of my favorite eldritch girlbosses

[i-did-not-mean-to]

I wonder if I could encourage you to write some Silvergifting? For example a sweet and innocent Annatar/Celebrimbor ficlet that includes a bit of teasing?

If you don't feel like it, no worries, though!

Oh...this one...I've stressed and stressed about it, I won't lie...this is some advanced pairing and I am just a good-time word-dabbler...

But...I've said that I'd do it and here it is...(after 5 hours of debating whether I should post it or not)

@elennalore I am very sorry for the sweet and innocent part....It seems a certain flame-eyed gentleman was NOT ready to cooperate with me on this! Angsty bastard!!!!

Words: 2k

Warnings: Erm, it's basically Sauron...so...be advised, I guess (?)

Characters: Infamous pairing N° 2 : Celebrimbor x Annatar

Annatar shook his head slowly, making the luscious hair shimmer like a veil of spun gold coiled against his shapely skull, and stepped into the small room with a confidence that was at least partly feigned.

The smell of hot metal and soft skin washed over him like a wave, pulling him under and cutting off his breath; the voices in his head were drowned out momentarily by the soft humming of the elven smith hunched over his work in deep concentration.

“Tyelpë,” he sighed – half a call and half a wistful statement – and frowned when tools were dropped with a clangourous thud; Celebrimbor turned around with an expectant, open expression on that timeless face that made what he surmised to be his stomach clench. He had never felt quite as ensconced in and bonded with the body he wore like a disguise before he had met this hereditary foe who had weaselled his way into what must have been his heart.

Annatar was not even sure he had a heart – a metaphorical one, that was – but how else could he explain the sudden feeling of tightness and warmth flooding his chest like a tidal wave within this borrowed, fabricated approximation of a body?

“Hullo!” Tyelpë grinned, getting up and stretching his tired limbs with the grace of a shadow-dancer, before slinging his arms enthusiastically around that midriff Annatar had been musing about for the last few moments, “How has your day been then?”

“It was uninteresting,” he replied sharply. It annoyed him somewhat that he was unable to avert his gaze from the pools of liquid silver and starlight that were Tyelpë’s eyes; it truly was ridiculous for he was certainly less beautiful than many a specimen of his race Annatar had seen – and probably killed – before, and yet he couldn’t escape the irresistible allure this particular youth exuded.

Celebrimbor was a world of his own – with his own gravitational field – and as such, he was a force to be reckoned with; at the same time, he was soft and delicate, his eyes open and full of benevolent trust, and his heart so close to the surface that Annatar sometimes felt as if he could plunge his own fingers through his skin as one dipped a brazen hand into a cool pond to retrieve a shiny stone.

“That bad, huh?” Tyelpë hummed, undoing the intricate hairdo his friend and lover had favoured on this day – always a clear indication that he had not been feeling confident about a meeting – quickly and efficiently.

Catching him by the wrists, Annatar couldn’t help but press a tempestuous kiss onto the spot where his blood pulsed under the most fragile part of that silken skin, which made the other laugh breathily and step away farther from his workbench. 

He thought of Tyelpë’s hands too much, Annatar realised, for they were extraordinary; he remembered the obscene, severed monstrosity his master had kept out of perverse pride, and he had to admit that Nelyafinwë’s hand – broad, calloused, and rough – had been akin to a vulgar hammer in comparison to the delicate instruments of sinew and bone with which his nephew made the world itself sing new creation into being.

“How about a relaxing bath while I show you what I’ve been working on?”

With every word falling from Tyelpë’s lips, contradicting urges spread like tendrils of smoke through Annatar’s awareness; on the one hand, he couldn’t deny the almost childishly destructive impulse to crush something so delicate and fragile between his ruthless fingers, and on the other hand, he could almost make himself believe that – held in those strong, impervious arms steered by an infallible moral compass – he could renounce his former ways.

He was not beyond saving, he told himself repeatedly as those honeyed lips slid over the exposed skin of his throat, etching words of hope and of love into it with the same dedicated finesse as was used to engrave precious metals with powerful runes. 

The deliciously confusing contradiction between the shockingly naïve hopefulness and the established mental strength of the puzzling and dazzling creature embracing him as if it was he who was crafted of finest crystal and threads of gold made his head spin, every doubt he’d ever known or allowed to take hold in his soul a live wire thrashing through a hollow body, sending out vicious sparks to set all his nerves alight. 

Impetuously, he hugged Tyelpë back, burying his face in the dark hair that should have made his skin crawl, but its warm smell of ash and molten metal inspired confidence and a feeling he would have identified as homesickness if it had been described to him rather than burgeoning in his own mind. 

“Oh, let’s go then,” the smith cooed, “I’ll draw you a bath and we can just talk.”

Talk, Annatar wanted to shake his head again to dispel the toxic, cloying fumes that paralysed his sharp wits and lulled his fire into abating into smouldering embers; he didn’t feel like talking, he never did, but – if he was to reveal himself to this perpetual stranger – he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Alright,” he heard himself say as he gave in; Tyelpë pulled him out of the room by the hand – his own so lithe and yet steady – and into their private quarters with so much genuine anticipation that Annatar didn’t have the heart to struggle. 

He had a meticulous, orderly mind that revelled in long-winded plans and so, he could but stand and stare as this scion of a cursed bloodline flourished into a hurricane of movement and action – each step a dance, every gesture a prayer – for the sake of a state of relaxation he could not possibly hope to achieve.

Before he had even taken a single step into the spacious bath chamber, Tyelpë was back – smiling up at him fondly – and shifting his tunic over his shoulders with gentle, steady fingers; a single sigh, drawn-out and low, trembled in the steamy air between them as that painfully brittle creature knelt in front of him to relieve him of his trousers as well.

Again, Annatar had to swallow against the rising desire to hug him so tightly that he’d end up squeezing the very life out of him; he had never thought himself obsessive – despite what people whispered behind his back – but, when it came to Tyelpë and his many inherent mysteries and contradictions, he knew that he’d rather see him dead than severed from his influence. He was consumed by the elusive charm of one who gave himself so freely that it stoked a hunger for more than he was willing and able to give in the endless darkness that thrummed like a living, beating heart within Annatar’s being.

“Come now,” Tyelpë purred seductively, “oh, you’re absolutely stunning; if I didn’t know better, I’d say you become more beautiful every day.”

The same illogical, absurd thought had already crossed Annatar’s mind as well; as if Tyelpë’s magical hands roaming across his skin, that was naught more than sheep’s clothing for the wolf, were moulding and polishing him into renewed and heightened splendour day by day, he seemed to become more hypnotising and enchanting with every second he spent in this conflicting togetherness that was his sanctuary and his prison.

Celebrimbor sighed under his breath when he saw how tense Annatar still was; he looked positively statuesque as he stood there – naked and motionless – as if he was waiting for some catastrophe to befall them that only he could see darken a horizon that looked clear and bright to anybody else. 

The recollection of other people – deeply loved, desperately cherished, and deplorably lost – staring obsessively into a faraway future welled up in Celebrimbor and he pushed the thought away with all his might; he missed his family every day and yet, he knew that he could not have changed their path neither by threat nor by pleading. 

“Look at me,” he whispered urgently, drawing that flaming gaze to his reassuring smile, “stay here with me!”

Every time the fire of his own blood, the weight of his legacy, flared up within his soul, he forced it down again inexorably; he had chosen another kind of bravery, he had opted for warmth and solace – a conscious decision that still cost him dearly – and for faith and creation instead of mindless, begrudging destruction.

They both had known the overwhelming persuasion of someone older and stronger and they had been led astray by their own willingness to obey and to serve what they had thought to be the greater good; it would not help nor heal anyone to dwell on these things, not now that they were given another chance – if not to rewrite history – to be and do better this time around.

Leading Annatar, like a blind man, over to the filled tub, he slid his hands behind the other man’s shoulder blades to let him glide gently into the hot water.

He was so blindingly beautiful that Celebrimbor – even knowing that it was all just a façade – could not help but admire the creativity of the cryptical entity sharing more than just his bed; in his expert opinion, it took a certain type of genius to even come up with a design so flawless and entrancing.

Running his fingers along the ridge of Annatar’s spine, he revelled in the sensations of smooth skin and sharp bone; he was a crafter at heart and the exquisite textures, the extraordinary balance, and the exceptional composition of his lover’s form made his heart soar and plummet weightlessly in turn.

“You’re so good to me,” Annatar grunted; it almost sounded like an accusation as if any shred of common decency was anathema to his very existence.

“Someone has to, no?” Tyelpë answered lightly, smoothing a tender palm over the now unbound hair, carding his fingers through the silken strands, and rubbing tight circles onto the abused scalp; yes, he had set his mind and heart on being a comforting presence, and not even the lingering threat in the air would dissuade him. He would show him what it meant to be cherished and cared for!

“I am not sure of that, Tyelpë, my dear,” Annatar laughed mirthlessly, “but I am thankful to you, nonetheless.”

His movements were quick and fluid – serpentine and unsettling – as he grabbed Celebrimbor’s wrist and tugged hard enough to almost make him lose his balance; twisting like molten gold or liquid glass, Annatar surged up and pressed astonishingly warm and soft lips onto his, half-open in wordless shock.

Their kiss deepened, wet fingers tangling in dark hair, and Celebrimbor sighed into the bottomless void that swirled and eddied within that glorious body; the echo – deep and hollow – didn’t take long to resound and, shrugging out of his own clothes hastily, he let himself be dragged into the tub.

Settled against the pristine, white chest of his lover, he spoke of his newest experiments with much enthusiasm while Annatar rubbed perfumed oils into his sore shoulders, humming now and then appreciatively to keep him talking.

“You are precious,” the elusive Maia then purred without prelude, “and adorable.”

“You adore me then?” Celebrimbor grinned to dissimulate the ripple of stunned pleasure coursing through his system.

“Hmmm, I do,” came the pensive answer, interrupted and punctuated by small kisses lavished upon the crown of his head, “I truly do.” 

“That is good then,” he answered earnestly, “for I am quite fond of you myself, good emissary.”

“Is that so? How about you prove it?” 

And because Celebrimbor could sense that Annatar was preoccupied and heartsick tonight, he let this monumental confession die away unheeded and uncommented, and eagerly turned around in those strong arms to face his lover, peppering his own slew of teasing kisses across his chin and jawline.

Flames were lapping at him – dark and voracious – but he was not in the mood tonight to question whether it was his heart or his flesh that was led to the pyre; he had braved fire and blood before, and he was not afraid to do so again.

I am so sorry if this is all wrong; I have given it my best shot 🙈

@medusas-hairband you said you wanted to see this, well, here it is 🥺

As always, lots of love from me (de profundis)...always willing to try, never sure to succeed...

#fanfiction #writing #the silm #the silmarillion #silvergifting #Celebrimbor #annatar #seduction #teasing #love? #danger #obsession #and a dark dark future #oh if only... #well...too late I guess

[askrossiel]

Working on a little shippy doodle, as a treat.

#wips #spun gold and starlight #wooftales

[porphyriosao3]

Dinner Party

(A gift for @tamloid, to accompany my short story Arrival, and set in the same ‘verse)  :D

Legolas and Gimli sat at a table which seemed spun of starlight, clear crystal winking in the reflected light of both the actual stars and tiny points of light from gems holding trapped starlight.  Dinner in the House of Finarfin-in-Tirion was a formal affair this night, and everyone was in their finest robes of flowing samite, mostly white worked with gold thread.  Drifting hangings of diaphonous silk shifted and flowed with every waft of air or breeze, and the hall was open to the skies above.  The quiet murmur of conversation was a barely-heard susurrus in a hall that seemed frozen in time.

Legolas was clad in the same clothes as everyone else, loose hair bound back with a fillet of mithril Gimli had given him as an anniversary present once young Durin got the mines open again.  Gimli, for his part, was wearing the same formal clothes he had worn as Lord of Aglarond, heavy, rich fabrics worked with the angular knotwork of the Longbeards and a circlet of gold and garnets.  He stood out like a raven at a tea party.  The only saving grace Gimli could see was that they were seated next to Galadriel and Celeborn; he couldn't have imagined what he would have spoken about with any of the others.

"So," he said, wrapping up a story, "that's when this one here decided that he was offended at how this Varon of Umbar had spoken to me, and challenged him to a duel!  For my honor, mind you, in me own court!"  Galadriel giggled and even Celeborn chuckled, though the elves beside them looked vaguely horrified.  Laughing, he elbowed Legolas who was peering irritably into his empty wineglass.  A servant stepped forward to fill it immediately, and Gimli gave a tiny wince.

"It didn't happen that way at all," Legolas sighed through down-turned lips, cutting his eyes at his husband.  "You always make me sound ridiculous."  He went back to staring into the pale wine in his goblet.  Oh dear, Gimli thought.

"Now now, just silly stories, love.  Got to make conversation with something, aye?"  Gimli caught Galadriel's eye, knowing she was almost certainly in his head, and thought as hard as he could, no more wine for this one, if you please.  Her eyes sparkled as she gave a grin that belonged more on a mischievous urchin than the Lady of the Noldor, but he saw with relief that she leaned back to speak to the server.

"I don't like it," Legolas said a bit too loudly, causing his elven neighbor to glance over and quietly move a tiny bit away.  Gimli gritted his teeth at that, but let it go; Legolas was still speaking.  "He was rude, and he had been rude the whole time.  I thought it likely he was a Black Numenorean - I know the signs, you know, being as I'm old enough to remember the Last Alliance!  Probably was, too, if you'd just let me fight him we'd know."

"You'd have killed him, love, and we'd have been without a treaty," Gimli said softly, patting the long, pale hand beside him on the table with one of his ruddy, stocky ones.  "No need to drag all that out again, it's long gone and likely so's he.  Just a good story, that's all.  So, my Lady," he said, glancing over to where Galadriel and Celeborn were watching this with fascination, "how are you finding your, uh, new location here?  Trees growin' nicely, seemed like."  He ignored the irritable huff from his husband and hoped that the dinner was nearing its end.

"Yes, well seen," Galadriel said with that same mischievous smile, "and your husband's tutelage is showing once again, my Champion.  For a son of Durin to notice trees is a triumph indeed.  Have you been able to visit Fangorn much since we left? I know that was still your plan when we sailed."  Conversation flowed for a few minutes more, as Gimli described the wonders of Fangorn forest.

"... Those ents were terrifyin', I'll tell you that.  I can't feel the trees, o'course," Gimli said, "but even I could feel the age in the place!  It was like comin' into a deep cavern that hadn't been touched since Mahal made the world, that same sense that yours were the first eyes' t'see it."  He took Legolas' hand in his own.  "And then when we got to Aglarond, and my heart could see the caves, I like to think I returned the favor of showin' him somethin' not everyone had seen."  He leaned forward.  "There are crystals of pure clarity there the height of a tall man, Lady.  There are pools of water so clear that the bottom looks an inch below the surface, but that go down a fathom, and gems so clean and pure it might be a shrine to Mahal Himself! Aye, it..."  As he spoke, he noticed out of the corner of his eye Legolas motioning to the server for more wine.  Unfortunately, instead of filling the glass, the elf pretended not to see.

Legolas whirled on Gimli, interrupting him.  "Gimli son of Gloin, son of Groin, son of Farin, son of... son of... whoever!  What have you done!"  Galadriel's eyebrows were halfway up her forehead and Celeborn looked shocked, though the corners of his mouth were apparently fighting him.  Legolas drew himself up and glared, and for a moment it was as though Thranduil himself had appeared in the hall.

"Well, that's that," Gimli sighed heavily.  "Our apologies, Lady, Lord Celeborn, but 'twould seem we've had enough feasting for the night.  Once he gets like his father, no good can come of it.  Be well, and we will see you in the morn, I'm sure,"  Standing, he hoisted a loudly protesting Legolas over his shoulder like a child and stumped off, with the occasional shouted obscenity trailing behind them.  Behind them, the hall was deathly silent.  Galadriel's face was perfectly composed, though an occasional quiver in her shoulders indicated how hard she was fighting not to laugh.

Celeborn cleared his throat.  "Do you remember," he said in a casual voice, "when Melian made a pet of Oropher?  We all..." he stopped, smiling,  as Galadriel slapped his arm in a practically dwarven display.

"Celeborn," she snickered.  "You're horrible."  Leaning over, she touched his face.  "And that's precisely why we're married, my love."  A shriek came from the halls, followed by a wet sound and then silence.  "I think young Thranduilion just got flung into the pool."  Finally the two looked at each other and burst out laughing, ignoring the scandalized looks from the rest of the hall.  Eternity with Legolas and Gimli was going to be interesting indeed, she mused.  But definitely not boring.

#gimli #legolas #gigolas #afterlife #aman #he's his father's son sometimes #silmarillion #after gimli and legolas went to the Eternal Lands

[oscalesoffeeling]

x. he spun the stars on his fingernails

this is a more contemporary (90s to now) mix of songs that fit my self-insert story with huffie!

remade with updated lyrics under cut <3

the ballad of mona lisa - panic! at the disco

- a lonely speaker in a conversation / her words are swimming through his ears again / there’s nothing wrong with just a taste of what you’ve paid for

she had the world - panic! at the disco

- she held the world upon a string / but she didn’t ever hold me / spun the stars on her fingernails / but it never made her happy / ‘cause she couldn’t ever have me

remember my name - mitski

- 'cause i need somebody to remember my name / after all that i can do for them is done / i need someone to remember me

when you were young - the killers

- he doesn’t look a thing like jesus / but he talks like a gentlemen / like you imagined when you were young

shadow - bearstronaut

- i’m the one you want in the palm of your hand / running down your back at every word’s end / you can let me down, put me in my place / although you’ve had enough, there’s still more i can take

i will - mitski

- i will wash your hair at night / and dry it off with care / i will see your body bare / and still i will live here

stay soft - mitski

- it’s why i’ve arrived, your sex god / here to take you where / you need to go / to where the dark remembers you

genghis khan - miike snow

- i know there’s no form / and no labels to put on / to this thing we keep / and dip into when we need

animal - neon trees

- here we go again / we’re like sick animals, we play pretend / you’re just a cannibal and i’m afraid i won’t get out alive / no, i won’t sleep tonight

one and only - timbaland, fall out boy

- i get over heels for someone, i / that i really can't deal with, deal with / i want to block her out my mind / but i really can't do it, do it / i tell myself this the last time / i'ma let her do this to me / whenever we do spend time / i realize that i can't get enough of you

casual affair - panic! at the disco

- break involuntary ties / a secret so the spies / could never find us out / stay for as long as you have time / so the mess that we’ll become / leaves something to talk about

kiss from a rose - seal

- there used to be a graying tower alone on the sea / you became the light on the dark side of me

pure love - hayley williams

- if i want pure love / must stop acting so tough / (i give a little, you give a little) / (we get a little, sentimental)

far too young to die - panic! at the disco

- well, i never really thought that you’d come tonight / while the crown hangs heavy on either side / give me one last kiss while we’re far too young to die

the last of the real ones - fall out boy

- i was just an only child of the universe / and then i found you, and then i found you / you are the sun and i am just the planets / spinning around you, spinning around you / you were too good to be true, gold plated / but what's inside you? but what's inside you? / i know this whole damn city thinks it needs you / but not as much as i do, as much as i do, yeah

resistance - muse

- will they find our hiding place / is this our last embrace / or will the walls start caving in?

fear the future - st. vincent

- when the war start anew / in our bed, in our room / i’ll come for you, come for me too

starlight - muse

- far away / this ship is taking me far away / far away from the memories / of the people who care if i live or die

deus in absentia - ghost

- the world is on fire / and you are here to stay and burn with me / a funeral pyre / and we are here to revel forever more

parachute - sean ono lennon

- 'cause if i have to die tonight / i’d rather be with you / cut the parachute before the dive

skyfall - adele

- let the sky fall / when it crumbles / we will stand tall / face it all together

the carpal tunnel of love - fall out boy

- it was ice cream headaches and sweet avalanche / when the pearls in our shells got up to dance / you call me a bad tipper of the cradle / tired yawns for fawns on hunter's lawns / we're the has-beens of husbands / sharpening the knives of young wives / take two years, and call me when you're better / take teardrops of mine, find yourself wetter

w.a.m.s. - fall out boy

- hurry, hurry / you put my head in such a flurry, flurry / what makes you so special? / what makes you so special? / i'm gonna leave you / i'm gonna teach you / how we're all alone / (how we're all alone, how we're all alone)

just one yesterday - fall out boy, foxes

- i want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way / still i'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday / i know i'm bad news / for just one yesterday / i saved it all for you / for just one yesterday

so much (for) stardust - fall out boy

- the stars are the same as ever / i don't have the guts to keep it together / stuck in the permafrost / stuck in the permafrost / life is just a game, maybe / i'm stuck in a lonely loop, my baby

on my own - les miserables soundtrack

- without him / i feel his arms around me / and when i lose my way i close my eyes / and he has found me

trade mistakes - panic! at the disco

- i feel marooned in this body / deserted, my organs can go on without me / you can’t fly these wings / you can’t sleep in this box with me

g.i.n.a.s.f.s. - fall out boy

- i loved everything about you that hurt / so, let me see your moves, let me see your moves / lips pressed close to mine / true blue / but the prince of any failing empire knows that / everybody wants, everybody wants / to drive on through the night, if it's a drive back home

haunted by the kiss - talkfine, starkid

- my heart won’t stop beating / hoping that this kiss / will never ever become a scar / you’re in my soul / you’re tormenting me / if you’re suffering as much as i am / please, won’t you tell me

jet pack blues - fall out boy

- she's in a long black coat tonight / waiting for me in the downpour outside / she's singing "baby, come home" in a melody of tears / while the rhythm of the rain keeps time / ... / did you ever love her? do you know? / or did you never want to be alone?

fake out - fall out boy

- my mood board is just pictures of you, but i'm not sad anymore / so make no plans and none can be broken, no plans and none can be broken / but i didn't take the love when i had the chance, but i swear i'm not sad anymore / so make no plans and none can be broken, no plans and none can be broken

flu game - fall out boy

- last night i dreamt i still knew you / you / i carved out a place in this world for two / but it's empty without you / i've got all this love I've got to keep to myself / all this effort to make it look effortless / all this love I've got to keep to myself / all this effort to make it look effortless

maps - yeah yeah yeahs

- made off / don’t stray / well, my kind’s your kind / i’ll stay the same / pack up / don’t stray

sweetest goodbye - maroon 5

- where you are seems to be / as far as an eternity / outstretched arms, open hearts / and if it never ends, then when do we start?

love from the other side - fall out boy

- sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse / and i just about snapped / don't look back / every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

high - the cure

- and when i see you happy as a girl / that lives in a world of make-believe / it makes me pull my hair all out / to think i could’ve let you leave / and when i see you take the same sweet steps / you used to take, i know / i’ll keep on holding you in my arms so tight / they’ll never let you go (never let you go)

dig - incubus

- we all have a weakness / but some of ours are easy to identify / look me in the eye / and ask for forgiveness / we’ll make a pact to never speak that word again / yes, you are my friend

two slow dancers - mitski

- it would be a hundred times easier / if we were young again / but as it is / and it is / we’re just two slow dancers, last ones out

in our bedroom after the war - stars

- it’s us, yes, we’re back again / here to see you through 'til the day’s end / and if the night comes and the night will come / well at least the war is over

#ellie rambles about stuff #he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag) #music #ok to rb as always #i haven't been super active with shelf ship schtuff recently bc i've had a lot on my plate lately 😭😭😭😭 #and i keep getting anxious about it every time i have free time to put towards it. so here!

[vixlenxe]

"Lumière étoiles..." Compared to the busy voices filling Mehryde's Meyhane, this one was a soft one, but one oh so familiar to the star elezen of the day. Ivy's gaze turned away from her sister & friends at her table, towards that voice, eyes bright with the buzz of the day & the atmosphere.

"Haurchefant!" Ivy beamed as the man in question made his way around the table, hands hidden entirely behind his back. "There you are, I was looking for you this morning!" She already knew something was up when the man was not in their bed in the sunrise, the hands behind his back just confirmed it more in her mind. "What did you do silly? Is that for me?"

The knight just laughed, sometimes not being able to hide anything from each other spoiled surprises, other times, it just made him love her more. It was hard to tell which feeling won today. "Of course it is." He admitted. "Tis your nameday, after all, & I of all people can not be caught lacking." Haurchefant's honesty also served to make her laugh, in which he decided to simply show what he hide behind his back, little point is hiding it any longer.

It was a delicate black box, long rather then wide. A inscription imprinted upon it in golden lined lettering, that Ivy knew to be her name, but not quite the one she knew all her life. 'Ivy de Foretmps'. The sight of it make Ivy's ear stand up in attention, ocean eyes wide in excitement. She knew a pricy gift when she saw it, & though the both of them knew Ivy didn't need anything expensive, they also both knew that when they did turn their eyes to something pricy, they took special attention to details.

"Happy Nameday, Ivy. Please, open it."

"Right now?" It was only a joking ask, she was more then happy to open it now, gently taking the box from him. She took a moment to admire the engraving. Ivy de Foretmps... they were yet to be fully married, but it was at times hard to believe she could call herself that. A Foretmps & a Quenderlain.

But the real prize laid inside. And Ivy knew whose hands had been all over this gift when she saw it, but it would be pushed into the back of her head for later. For now, there was only the widening of her eyes & the the slightly slacking of her jaw. A dark blue stain lining with light blue & gold dots adoring it, comfortably cushioning the treasure within. Gold plated chains, with extras designed elegantly to hang graciously, held to the main chain by white freshwater pearls, in a boast of love eternal. It was elegant, but hardly over the top. Simple, but not so simple as to be plain.

Ivy mouth hung open still when the coo she made at the sight of the gift. Delighted & entranced.

"Haurchefant... it's... it's beautiful." And she knew what this gift meant. She was familiar of the symbol of the pearl, hard not to be with how eagerly the newest Quenderlain would yap about them as any possible connivence. And oh, how it made her smile. "Thank you. I love it!" She beamed proudly, shooting up from her seat & wrapping her arms around his neck to embrace him, holding the necklace's box seedy in her hands.

"Haha! You're more then welcome, mon armor. I knew you would." And Haurchefant was all the eager to return the gesture. Smiling tenfold at his beloved starlight's delight. He knew the right one when he saw it, & by The Fury, it felt good to be right. It know he knew his bride inside & out. "May I?" He named when they pulled away, making a gesture to the necklace.

"... Yes, please." Ivy quickly turned the box towards her groom, letting his gently plunk the necklace from it's gorgeous resting place. "Turn around for me, Lumière étoiles." And thus, Ivy does, watching slowly as the necklace comes down before her, resting against the base of her neck. The knight working carefully to fasten the beautiful pearl onto where it belongs.

"There." Smile reborn anew on his face. Haurchefant watched in delight & love blossoming all the new in his eyes, as Ivy spun once more to face him, seeing the symbol of eternal love, his eternal love, resting there. A ring, a woven bracelet, & now, a pearl.

"How does it look?" She asked.

"I was right, you do look... positively splendid in white, mon armor." So much so, he could kiss her, here & now, in front of everyone. As if this simple bar was an alter.

"Thank you, Haurchefant! Thank you so much." She's said her thanks already, but she will say it again. She can't help it, to be loved, & known, so well by someone. It was something she was endlessly thankful for. "I love it & I love you." And, as if Ivy had read Harucehfant's mind.

She trapped him in a kiss, hands cupping his cheeks & holding him for a long kiss, lovingly & passionate in one. One Haurcehfant was happy to just lose himself in for the moment. To simply be with the one to held the other half of his heart.

A show that made Tiffanie & the others within the bar smile. Tiffanie was used to this, but still, their love had ways to surprise her. And the other patrons felt it a adorable sight. A love so strong & bold & full, it was a rare sight even here in Thavaniar, & it should be honored.

#musings [lore; ideas and aesthetics] #ivy quenderlain; ic [warrior of light] #haurchefant; ic [knight of the silver fuller] #tiffanie quenderlain; ic [warrior of darkness] #drabbles [endless chapters for an endless adventure] #read more for length #『you lived and died with my heart in your hands ❤️ ivyxhaurchefant』

[thewizardtower]

Good morning, it's apparently time for me to start a new WIP. A conversation with friends this morning made me think about a young priest falling in love with a mermaid.

It was about a fortnight into our journey when first I saw her.

It was night–cloudless and clear–and I was the only soul on the upper deck to stroll 'neath the stars. Waves lapped at the sides of the massive ship that bore us to our destination. A rhythmic cadence of water that reminded me quite keenly of all the tales I'd heard as a boy about what lurked in the dark fathoms below the ocean's surface: great beasts made of tentacles and teeth and malice. 'Twas not something a godly man should ponder, yet I found myself drawn to wondering what else could be rapping against the hull of the Rosy Maiden.

Staring out at the dark waves was when I saw the crest of what appeared to be a head–a ripple of something breaking the surface–before it was gone. I pressed myself against the wooden railing of the Maiden, scanning the ocean frantically. My first thought was that one of the crew had fallen overboard. Panic gripped my throat. I could not swim–could not even offer a helping hand if someone had fallen into the sea. The cry for help formed in my chest, yet stopped before it could escape my lips.

That same head peaked up once more. Hair like spun gold crowned her; black, star-painted waters were her robes. Pale skin–almost silver in the starlight–reflected like fish scales. She was too far away for me to glean anything else, yet I saw she gazed at me, and I gazed back, in a small moment that seemed to stretch for eons. I had thought, then, that her face looked human enough. (I know now she was anything but.) I wanted to scream–to yell for the crew to rescue a drowning woman in the water–when I saw she was nothing of the sort. Just as quickly as she surfaced, she submerged once more. In her wake was the inaudible splash of a silvery fish tail.

#*shrugs 5 thousand times* #writing #my stuff #merfolk

[galacticnova3]

iru is kind of like slenderman but if slenderman had fifty pointy purple penises swangin like a hirsute halcandran horse on a saturday night when the autumn breeze carries the delicate moonrise like a glittering celestial pearl in its slender, silver-tipped manicured hands as a puppeteer’s graceful strings and the lustrous glow of white-hot starlight dusts the wild glassy seas in flecks of finest gold and the good old working boys at home are kicking back their doomerskin boots with frothy pink gemapple ciders in spun glass goblets bubbling and spilling over the rims and dampening their star-bleached whiskers

Am I having a fucking stroke or is this batshit to everyone else also

#asks #rambling #not sfw #collapses onto the ground in a heap #its too fucking early to read shit like this

[primroseprime2019]

Don't Act like a Tribute

The way to the Ascendant’s Temple seemed easy enough. At least… that’s what the Heroes and the Starlight Squad thought.

Valentina looked out the window before she saw a bright orange-golden bird-like figure flying alongside the train. Damien, Marley, Magnus, May, Shiloh and Kylie looked out the window.

“Uh… who dat?” Magnus asked and everyone yelled in surprise when the train suddenly jerked to a screeching halt.

The figure gave their wings a great flap, flames flying from their feathers as they flew above the train. The figure lifted their hand and fiery arrows appeared. They swung their hand and the arrows flew at the train.

Marley’s ears twitched and she looked up. “Paige!” She said. “Get back!” Jay shouted.

The arrows embedded into the roof and it burst apart. Gem grabbed Val to shield her from the debris. A bright magenta shield appeared over everyone as Natalia held out her hands, her eyes glowing magenta. Debris bounced off the shield.

“Wh-who is that!?” Rocco exclaimed, holding onto Damien’s shoulder. Celestia hid behind Val’s legs as the flames went down.

A nineteen year old girl stood before them. She had dark brown-blackish hair and bright green eyes.

She had a silver and black bow and arrows strapped on her. She glared at them, her eyes glinting gold.

Charlotte swallowed before she gave a nervous grin. “Hahaaaaa, Katniss, my old friend! Long time no see!”

“Not long enough,” Katniss hissed. “You two know each other!?” Damien exclaimed, giving Charlotte an incredulous look.

“Don’t tell me you came to see lil old me,” Charlotte said with a smile, ignoring Damien’s question. Katniss snarled and her wings flared out and Paige yelped. Her wings were dark blue and black.

“Whoa,” Damien squeaked.

“You know exactly why I’m here, Charlotte!” Katniss hissed, “I’m looking for the Rings of Osiris!” “Well aren’t you noble?” Demetrius muttered as Magnus held the Rings of Osiris behind his back.

Katniss growled and her grip tightened on her bow. Charlotte narrowed her eyes.

“This is exactly why the stones should’ve been entrusted to PRIM!” Katniss angrily shouted, suddenly standing in front of Magnus who held the Rings close to his chest, eyes wide with fear.

“Hand over the Rings, boy,” she growled, “I won’t ask aga- HCCK!” She grunted when Charlotte suddenly punched her hard in the gut, sending her flying through the hole in the roof.

Katniss quickly righted herself and she growled as she watched Charlotte’s friends escape. She saw Charlotte shove the moonstones into her pocket and she transformed into her dragon form and flew up into the air.

“You’re not getting away that easily!” Katniss snarled before she flew after Charlotte, firing arrows at the Dosyrian Transcendant.

Charlotte quickly dodged them before she whipped around and took a breath, sending a blast of fire flying in Katniss’ direction.

Katniss snarled and she fired another arrow. The arrow burst into flames and zipped past Charlotte who quickly dodged it. The Transcendant looked at the other, beads of sweat forming on her head.

“You’re faster, I’ll give you that,” she said before she smirked, “but we both know I hit HARDER!” She flew at Katniss and rammed into her.

The two flew through the air. Katniss hissed before she grabbed Charlotte by the neck, spun around and threw her away.

Charlotte quickly righted herself and she swung her tail. Spikes flew at Katniss and Katniss quickly dodged them before she grabbed the other end of a lasso and she lashed it up then down.

Charlotte grunted in surprise when her lasso wrapped around her and Katniss spun around and chucked her into three mountains until she hit another.

“Alright,” Charlotte groaned, holding her side, “that hurt.” She widened her eyes in realization when she felt her empty pockets.

“You may hit harder,” Katniss spoke up and when Charlotte looked up, the Tiatune Transcendant suddenly flew into her but she didn’t strike.

She loomed over Charlotte, holding the Moonstones. “But I’m still faster,” she smiled. Charlotte smirked, “heh… and prettier.”

Katniss growled, her cheeks turning red, “why can’t you let me have the last laugh!?” Charlotte only smiled innocently and the two clapped hands together.

#fanfiction #my ocs #Transcendants #WIP: Transcendants: Skyfall