#I would let this elf ruin me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heliosunny · 4 months ago

Note

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE MEAL 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 i hope yew write more yan!phainon x reader fics in the future

Yandere! Elf Phainon x Reader

Art credit: CH203r on X Do not use this art without permission!

You are a bounty hunter in need of money, so you take on various requests. Somehow you accidentally kidnap the wrong target, but instead of being angry, he seems intrigued by you.

The job was supposed to be simple. A quick bounty, a bag of gold, and maybe a hot meal at the end of the day. But as you stared at the man bound before you, his calm expression unsettling against the flickering campfire, you had the nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong.

"What do you mean you are not Kevin? Look at this description, you're definitely him." You shoved the crumpled wanted poster in his face, pointing at the sketch of a white-haired man with sharp features.

He tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Miss…"

"Y/n L/n."

"Y/n."

"Don’t address me so casually! Answer me!"

"You see…" He gestured toward his pointed ears. "This man right here is a human being. While I’m…an elf"

Your eye twitched. Dammit. This was bad. You had wasted days tracking down this guy, only to end up with the wrong target. And now, with barely any coin left, you were in serious trouble.

As if to make matters worse, your stomach chose that moment to let out a humiliating growl.

Phainon chuckled softly. "I have an idea. How about I take you to a place full of treasure?"

Your eyes narrowed. "Why would you help me?"

His smile deepened. "Because, dear hunter, you intrigue me."

You should have known better.

Despite being an experienced bounty hunter, you found yourself struggling to keep up with Phainon as you ventured deeper into the dungeon. The elf moved effortlessly through the ruins, his magic lighting the way, effortlessly dispatching the creatures that lurked in the shadows. Meanwhile, your stamina drained at an alarming rate, your sword heavy in your grip.

"Try to keep up." he said over his shoulder, his smirk teasing.

You scowled. "You could at least pretend to struggle."

"If I did, would you feel better?"

Before you could retort, the air shifted. A dark presence loomed from within the cavern, the final challenge of the dungeon making itself known. A monstrous creature, wreathed in shadows, launched itself toward Phainon. Instinct kicked in before you could think. You threw yourself in front of him, taking the brunt of the attack.

Pain lanced through your body as you collapsed to one knee, struggling to stay upright.

"Cover your eyes" Phainon ordered, his voice uncharacteristically firm.

You barely had the strength to obey before a deafening boom erupted around you. A rush of magic swirled, and suddenly, you were no longer in the dungeon.

Instead, you found yourself in a quiet clearing, bathed in moonlight.

You blinked in confusion, your legs unsteady as Phainon steadied you with a firm grip.

"Where are all the gold you promised?" you demanded, gripping his sleeve.

"Oh, that?" He tilted his head, feigning innocence. "I forgot."

Your eye twitched. "You-"

"But instead…" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear. "I’ll treat you to a meal."

There was something unnerving about the way he said it, something ..possessive in the way he held onto you. Your instincts screamed at you to pull away, but you couldn’t. You were exhausted, and despite everything, the warmth of his touch was oddly comforting.

Maybe… just for tonight, you’d let your guard down.

You woke up earlier than him, the fire reduced to embers. The peaceful rise and fall of his chest was a stark contrast to the brutal elf you had seen in battle. He looked... human, in a way that made your heart twist. Without thinking, you brushed your fingers through his short white hair, a soothing gesture you weren’t sure was meant for him or yourself.

With quiet steps, you packed up your things and slipped away for another bounty hunt.

Phainon woke up moments after you left, feeling strangely refreshed, an unfamiliar clarity settling in his mind. He had never slept so well before. Something about you soothed him, and he needed to know why.

Later that day, he stood at an information booth, gathering any details he could about you. The thought of your absence sent an unshakable emptiness through him. He needed to find you.

Meanwhile, your bounty hunt led you to a hidden dungeon, one far more treacherous than you expected. Your body ached, your movements sluggish as you struggled against relentless monsters. Just when you thought your strength had run dry, a monstrous foe loomed over you, ready to strike the final blow.

A single, devastating strike obliterated the creature before it could touch you.

Phainon stood before you, bathed in a strange aura, his presence suffocating. His normally cool blue eyes glowed with something dark and unreadable.

"Even godlike creatures can bleed huh..." he murmured, voice like a whisper of death.

You stared, shaken by the raw brutality in his movements. This was no ordinary elf.

"What… are you?" you rasped, your wounds stinging.

He smiled, sharp and knowing. "You bring me peace. I wanted to test that."

Your heart pounded as realization dawned. You were an experiment to him.

Despite your fear, you reached into your pouch, pulling out a small vial of temporary medicine. "Drink this" you ordered, tossing it to him. "We’ll talk after you stop looking like a vengeful god."

To your relief, he complied, downing the liquid in one swift motion. As his aura dimmed, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him along despite your own injuries.

"Come on" you muttered. "You saved me. Now let’s get out of here before you go berserk again."

Later that night, after patching up your wounds and sharing a proper meal, you finally had a real conversation. Phainon was still his usual smug self, but for once, he wasn’t avoiding direct questions. Despite that, when you firmly refused to let him follow you as a partner, his expression darkened.

"You’re better off without me tagging along" you said. "Go find your own adventure."

Phainon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "If that’s what you want."

You should have known better.

Even as you continued your travels, it was obvious someone was tailing you. As a hunter, you were attuned to being watched. Coins mysteriously appeared in your belongings. Pathways that should have been riddled with monsters were eerily clear. Every time you set up camp, you had the sense that someone had passed through before you. You ignored it, pretending not to notice.

Then one evening, you found him curled up near your campsite, face pale, breath labored.

You cursed under your breath. "You’re faking it."

Phainon groaned weakly. "Am I?" His eyes fluttered shut dramatically.

You sighed, dragging him closer to the fire. "Fine. Just for tonight."

As you tended to him, you finally asked "What’s your deal, really?"

Phainon smirked faintly, his voice softer than usual. "That depends. What do you want to know?"

He spoke in riddles, half-answering, half-evading. The past he revealed was fragmented, a puzzle missing its most vital pieces. He let slip details about powerful magic, about a home long abandoned, but when pressed for more, he simply smiled and changed the subject.

You should have been frustrated. But somehow, against your better judgment, you found yourself listening intently, watching the way the firelight reflected in his blue eyes.

For just one night, you allowed yourself to be curious.

Days passed, and despite your efforts to shake him off, Phainon continued his silent pursuit. You should have been annoyed, but a small part of you had grown used to his presence.

Then came the dragon.

An SSS-ranked beast, towering and relentless. Despite your skill, you were outmatched, forced to retreat as it bore down upon you. A sharp pain burned against your wrist, and in the chaos, you heard Phainon's voice.

"Now, call upon it!"

You didn’t understand, until your body moved on its own. A sigil, glowing and intricate, flared to life on your skin. Magic you had never wielded before surged through you, your blade carving through the dragon with inhuman precision. In mere moments, the once-impossible battle was over.

Panting, you turned to Phainon, who looked far too satisfied. "What… what did you do?!"

He approached, smirking. "Oh, nothing much. Just a little contract magic. You’re my partner now."

Horror settled in your chest. "You tricked me."

He tilted his head playfully. "You activated it yourself. That makes it binding."

You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to strangle him. Whatever this was, you needed to figure out how to break it.

Later that night, as Phainon slept soundly, you saw your chance. Quietly, you slipped away from the camp, making your way to the nearest information booth. Your heart pounded as you inquired about the strange sigil now marking your skin and about Phainon himself.

The answers you received chilled you to the core.

Whispers of ancient magic, forbidden contracts, and a bloodstained past surrounded his name. The sigil you bore was no ordinary mark, it was a binding far more dangerous than you had realized.

Before you could process it fully, a shadow loomed over you.

"I was hoping you'd trust me more than this" Phainon's voice was deceptively soft, yet his presence was suffocating. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Desperation clawed at your throat. Your fingers twitched toward your weapon, but you knew it was useless. Instead, you took a slow breath and did the only thing that came to mind.

You pulled out your dagger and pressed the tip against your own skin. "Don't come any closer. I'll-"

Phainon's expression changed instantly. His amusement vanished, replaced by something raw, something you didn’t expect.

"DON'T" he said, his voice unusually strained. "You can hurt me, but don’t do that to yourself."

You hesitated. The way he said it like he had seen this before, like he had lived through it, unsettled you more than his usual antics. There was something haunted in his eyes, something broken beneath his smirk.

Still, he didn’t remove the sigil. Instead, he took a slow step forward, hands raised as if approaching a wounded animal. "Listen to me, Y/n. I can't undo it. Not yet. But I can make you accept it."

His voice was gentle, persuasive. He didn't plead, didn't force, but something in his tone wormed its way under your skin. Because despite everything, despite the lies and the trickery, you realized something terrifying.

You did feel calmer around him. Your presence soothed his mind, but was it possible that his presence had started to soothe yours, too?

You swallowed hard, lowering the dagger just slightly. "How?"

He smiled, not victorious, but relieved. "Let me show you."

He reached out slowly, his touch feather light as his fingers brushed against your wrist, just above the glowing sigil. Warmth seeped through your skin, not just from his magic, but from the steady reassurance in his gaze. "You're not alone in this, Y/n. I understand your fear. But this bond.. it's not a prison. It's protection."

You wanted to argue, to pull away, but something about the way he spoke made your resolve waver. The exhaustion from fighting, from running, from resisting, it all weighed heavily on your shoulders. Would it be so bad to surrender, just a little?

He stepped closer, his presence wrapping around you like an unseen force. "You’ve been alone for so long, haven’t you? Always fighting, always struggling. You don’t have to do that anymore. With me, you’ll never have to be alone again."

He was right. You had spent your life surviving, but never truly living. The warmth in his voice, the certainty in his promise, it was tempting.

Phainon tilted his head, watching you with a knowing smile. "Say it. Accept it. You already feel it, don’t you? The connection between us."

The words came unbidden, barely a whisper. "I... accept it."

The sigil flared brightly for a brief moment before settling, the magic no longer a foreign force but something familiar, something… comforting. A sense of belonging, of purpose, filled the void you had ignored for so long.

Phainon exhaled softly, his smile deepening as he cupped your cheek. "Good. Now, let’s go home."

#yandere x reader #yandere #phainon honkai star rail #phainon hsr #phainon x reader #hsr phainon #phainon #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr x you #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere phainon

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devnmon · 7 days ago

Text

elegant and erotic

astarion x fem!reader

Summary: You ask Astarion for help putting on a dress, but he has another idea brewing when you're alone with him.

warnings: quickie, cumming inside, piv sex, dirty talk

word count: 1.8k

a/n: drops this. runs away to my final exam study session. i came up with this idea (a while ago) and it's rotted my brain so much that it's now a quickie fic. enjoy xx

Stupid. Godsdamned. Dress.

How in the hells did you get this on at the shop?

You were already sweating from the layers of makeup painted on in the early morning. Now you couldn’t figure out which strap went where and how you were going to be comfortable in it all night long.

Stood in a cluttered bathroom, you hadn’t even wanted to put the dress on your body yet. Whose idea was this perplexing design?

With it still left on the hanger, you padded over to the door and cracked it open an inch, your eyes darting around to the individuals that were still in the room. Mostly everyone was tending to themselves, except for one who wasn’t, in the corner of the room, checking his nails.

Astarion.

Your gaze dropped to the floor. Maybe you should just figure out how to put the dress on by yourself rather than bother the silver haired elf. Who you’ve been attracted to since you could remember. Called you darling and never left a bruise when he fed from you.

Risk putting it on wrong? Ripping a hole in it? Shit. No. His fine tailoring…

No, you’d just have to suffer through the way he made you feel for his help.

“Psst. Astarion. Astarion!”

His elven ears twitched at your call, attention immediately catching you peeking out from behind the bathroom door.

“Yes, darling? Something wrong with your dress?”

You almost melted hearing it again.

“Yes- Well- no, nothing’s wrong with it. I just.” You sigh, “I’m having a hard time getting it on. Could you help me?”

Astarion’s mouth ran dry.

Help you into your outfit? Touch you?

He’d be hard pressed to refuse you anything.

“Of course, dear. How could I say no?”

Would he really be the first one to see you in the finished product he put every inch of his skill into?

Gods, he felt so honored.

Reluctantly you stepped backwards, opening the door for him to enter, and he slipped into the room faster than light. You were still in just your undergarments, standing awkwardly by the sink.

All of his strength was dedicated to not letting his eyes wander on how your breasts sit so perfectly in the brassiere, and your waist, ugh, your curves. As if the gods made you with every intention of ruining him.

Astarion clears his throat and walks over to where your dress hangs over by the wardrobe. He stops for a moment, admiring the perfectly tailored dress that was made to fit your body specifically.

What a piece, he thought to himself. If he’d have known you were the recipient of such a garment, he would’ve taken more care with his stitching and made sure it was easy for you to put on. Although… he’s not completely upset about it. You’ve got him in an isolated room asking for his help putting your dress on. There was nothing more perfect than that.

He unzipped the material and turned back to you.

“Here, darling. Step into it. Much easier than trying to fit it over your head.”

That name. The one he called you on many an occasion. It was your favorite, but he needn't know.

One of your hands grasped his shoulder, stepping into the garment carefully. You almost stumble into him, but quickly catch your balance. Shame you didn’t, it would’ve been another excuse to have his hands on you.

Astarion can’t ever forget the moments he’s flirted with you here and there, ever so lightly as to leave room for you to make a move if you so chose. But after this morning of getting ready had passed, he probably wouldn’t get the chance to ever see you in this dress again.

Situated around your waist now, he greedily runs his fingertips down your back, his cool skin a stark difference to the heat field bathroom. You tried and failed to hide the shudder that ran up your spine, letting a smirk grow across his lips.

Astarion’s fingers slipped around your waist, dragging upward as he did the zipper.

“You know, you look most ravenous in this dress. A shame I won’t get to see you in it again after today.”

His compliment threw you off guard, especially when he used that sultry tone.

“Truly a shame,” he started again, “I’m planning on etching this vision before me into my mind for a later time.”

Astarion’s nose brushed against the side of your ear, taking a long inhale of your scent. With the way he exhaled, it was most satisfying to his senses. Your eyes met in the mirror, before you pulled yours away, afraid you’d blush and blow your cover. But little to your knowledge, it had already been gone.

You turned around to face him, knowing smirk already plastered on his face. Those red eyes darted downwards and then back up to your face before licking his lips.

His hand snaked around your waist again, pulling you flush against his body with nowhere to go but closer to him.

“Astarion… what’re you doing?”

“Don’t act like I can’t smell the lust in your body growing every second we’re in here together. And we both know you didn’t invite me in here just to help you dress, darling.”

There’s that name again. Bringing a blush to your cheeks.

This was it. You were already putty in his hands. Time to make a move.

“It would be most devious to get up to anything right now. but… you’ll be so busy later, I'm not sure if you’ll even see me in the crowd of men wanting to dance with you.”

“Oh, shut up, Astarion.”

You gripped the collar of his ruffled shirt and closed your lips around his. Just as you thought, sweet like rosemary, the same way he always smelled. The way he kissed, with a hunger but still tenderly, was something you fantasized about as well.

Gods, he was good at it.

His other hand gripped your side as well, spinning you around so his behind pressed against the side of the sink. Pulling you in again, one of his hands traveling down past your behind to hike your thigh up onto his body.

“I’ve been thinking about this- you- for ages…” You speak, pulling away from his mouth for a moment.

“The way you look right now… makes me want to wreck you. Smudge your makeup and mark your pretty skin up with my teeth.” The vampire said in reply, pushing the length of fabric up your leg, revealing your supple, soft skin. “Wondering ceaselessly what it feels like…to be inside you…”

His proximity along with those words had you clenching around the hot air between your bodies.

“Feel this?” He took your hand, placing it upon the outline of his hardened cock. “It’s just for you.”

“I want you… to fuck me… here… right now…” you panted.

Astarion’s palm ran up your sides, grasping at the supple flesh of your breasts. It was easy to slip the other between your legs, finding you completely soaked already.

“Since when did you become so naughty?”

“You just do it to me…”

“And all ready to take me… seems you’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

When you nodded, he said nothing else, reaching for his belt buckle and undoing it with haste. He was already hard as it seemed, the moment he saw you in his dress. Along with how badly he wanted to see it on the floor. But fucking you in it? He’d be fine with that, too.

His cock sprung up, already hardened and eager to find solace inside your walls. You knew he was just as eager when you felt his tip at your entrance, sliding through your slick folds and over your clit to tease.

“Astarion.. Before we… you can’t make a mess of me like this…”

“Guess I’ll have to come inside then…” Astarion smirked, pushing inside torturously slow.

The delicious feeling of him splitting you open was followed by a louder than desired sound exiting your lips. The elf knew this would happen, placing his hand over your mouth and lowering his voice as he bottomed out inside you.

“Shh, my love. We wouldn’t want everyone to hear what we’re getting up to in here, now would we?”

You shook your head in reply.

“Good girl.”

He’s lucky his hand is there to muffle the pathetic way you moaned from his praise.

When he slides back out, angling himself differently and pressing back into you, he kisses the sweet spot inside you like a cherub with an arrow. His thrusts start slow, letting you adjust to him, then picks up speed with your leg around his waist.

Astarion’s grunting is in time with each drag of his cock along your walls, already sending you into a blissed out state. You’re bouncing on his cock, and you can’t even register it in your mind yet. How did you get here again? Something something help with your dress? Your mind closes off to any other thought than the pretty elf. All you desire now is to ride him till you see stars.

No doubt in your mind Astarion’s hips are talented with the sparks shooting through you at every next thrust.

“You’re… so… beautiful… fuck… love seeing you absolutely ruined in something so perfectly crafted.”

You move his hand out of the way to whisper, “Wouldn’t want anyone else to make dresses for me… you have every measurement of my body…”

The quick slapping of skin turns feral in a flash when he reaches down to toy with your sensitive clit, triggering your walls to clench around him and spur him on even further.

“Mmh…” you muffle your moans as best you could before uttering, “I’m going to… Ah- I’m–”

It only takes one more flick of his thumb over your clit and you’re toppling over the edge, encouraging him to do so as well with every rhythmic pulse over his length.

“Ah.. ah… Darling, I’m coming…”

His cock presses fully into you, noticing it twitch with release as his warm cum fills you to the brim. With no time for pleasantries, he pulls out, knowing you’d be keeping him inside you all day, whether physically or not. He kisses you again, moving a lock of hair out of your face and then placing one on your cheek before carefully smoothing the long tresses of your gown.

“There. Like nothing even happened.” He admires how you look, even if he wouldn’t get to savor it for long.

“I’m sure my flushed cheeks will say enough after you walk out of here.” Your gaze doesn’t leave him, heart still pounding in your chest as he tidies himself up. Grabbing a bottle of hairspray, he does one quick layer on his hair and blots his face and yours with a setting powder.

“Much better. I’ll let the others know you’re ready.”

“Wait,” You grab his wrist as he heads for the door, “Astarion… I have a room at the tavern booked for tonight… with a queen bed…”

He turns back, pulling you into a passionate kiss, before replying.

“Then I'll see your delicious self tonight.”

a/n: might write a part two soon to this. teehee

#ryes ff #devnmon writes #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion oneshot #astarion x tav

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daistea · 11 months ago

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Might I… request a fic about Kabru and Mithrun (respectively) encountering a succubus that appeals to them by taking on the form of the reader. While the reader is standing Right There

oh my goodness this was so fun for me. However, it was only after I finished writing it that I realized what 'respectively' implied. So this did not happen respectively, I'm sorry. I think it's funnier this way, though, if that's any solace.

If you still want this prompt done for them both separately, then let me know and I'll be happy to do that!

Mithrun x Reader x Kabru (not a love triangle, no established relationship)

2000 words!

no tw except for a very mild implication

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The first sign of danger was the cloying, saccharine smell that consumed every inch of the room. It was as if the air had been replaced with pure perfume created to appeal to a specific victim.

Kabru’s eyes fluttered as he recognized the scent of Utaya’s fields, especially the moments when the breeze would roll across the wheat and envelop him in a warm hug. Then, there was the hint of Milsiril’s kitchen, which wasn’t a scent he would usually describe as appealing. Yet, it sunk into his skin and made his heart clench.

To Mithrun, the petrichor was faint, but recognizable. It was just a hint in the back of his mind, bringing up a split second memory of the rainy, rolling green hills of the Northern Central Continent. Since the demon, though, he’d never been particularly sentimental of his home. As if the source of the scent read his mind and realized that, the perfume in the air gently switched to something savory, like elf cake. He didn’t care about that either. Again, the scent switched to wildflowers. He didn’t care about that either. And once more—

Succubi were so annoying, so invasive. Mithrun sighed and nudged Kabru with his elbow, “There’s monsters nearby.”

Kabru caught on almost immediately, “Succubi?” Without waiting for an answer, he glanced over his shoulder at you, of all people. His expressions weren’t as well-guarded when with you and Mithrun, and the Captain recognized the concern that flickered over his face. Mithrun’s hand twitched with the urge to grab Kabru by the hair and redirect his stare elsewhere, perhaps onto the life-sucking mosquito monsters that were slowly approaching from the shadows.

The dungeon was a collapsed ruin, but still traversable to those determined enough. You had insisted on coming with Mithrun on one of his regular explorations of the ruins. Once Kabru had discovered that you were going with Mithrun, he insisted upon coming along as well despite his obvious distaste for the place. There was some deeper reasoning behind his decision, Mithrun knew. Whether or not you knew that, though, remained to be seen.

There was rubble in the corners and moss growing between the cracks in the stones. One wrong step and the ceiling could easily fall. It was wise to have more than one person when encountering a succubi, yet all the times Mithrun had encountered them in the past had ended up in his favor. The succubi didn’t quite know what to do with him. He cast you and Kabru a wary glance, though— you two were far more susceptible.

“Just stay close,” Kabru said as he took a careful step forward. He reached out a hand behind him, grabbing for your wrist. You let him take your arm, and Mithrun felt his shoulders tense.

“The wisest thing to do would be to cover your eyes,” Mithrun mused. As he spoke, he took your other hand. In response to that, Kabru released your wrist and also held your hand. For a moment, you felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war. It wasn’t the worst feeling, but perhaps one of the most confusing.

Mithrun and Kabru led you through the ruined room. The shadows were thick and alive with the scuffling of feet, the brushing of wings against the wall. Kabru did his best to hide his concern, but his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed down whatever he was feeling. A quick glance at Mithrun confirmed that the Captain was not at all bothered by the cloying scent of succubi, their calling card and greeting. They could strike at any moment, yet he remained calm.

“It will be fine,” Mithrun’s voice cut through the tension, “just close your eyes.”

Kabru sent him a look over his shoulder, “‘It’ll be fine’ is easy for you to say, Captain.”

“It is, the succubi have never really known what to make of me.”

You imagined a life-sucking, giant mosquito monster just staring at Mithrun as it tried to process what it was seeing. Yet, just the other day, Mithrun had expressed a small desire for a specific dish.

You snorted, “Your desires are coming back, though. You never know, it may take the form of an unseasoned elf casserole.”

Kabru put up a gloved hand to stifle his laugh, “Yeah, with boiled chicken and white rice without an ounce of salt.”

You could practically feel the heat of Mithrun’s stare on the back of your neck. “Elven cuisine is an acquired taste.”

“As in… once you actually acquire taste, you’ll move onto much better food?” You asked.

You would’ve liked to share a high-five with Kabru over that one, but the familiar buzz of a mosquito interrupted the laughter. The three of you froze as a flicker of mana filled the air. Mithrun didn’t seem worried, this succubi obviously wasn’t for him, but—

Kabru put out an arm in front of you as if to shield you from… yourself.

An exact copy of you stepped out of the shadows. Its eyes were wide with a look that could only be described as desperate desire. Its cheeks were flushed and brows furrowed, every ounce of attention focused precisely on Kabru.

Both you and Mithrun looked at him.

Kabru cleared his throat and looked away. The red on the tips of his ears was undeniable.

How were you supposed to feel about that? Flattered? There was some flattery in it, though it was mixed with mild horror at the absolutely breathless and desperate version of yourself that he apparently desired. Was that what you looked like? You were sure you never made a face like that. (You did, last week when Melini had a heatwave and Kabru had fetched you a glass of water. The memory haunted him.)

To your right, Mithrun raised a shaking hand. His shoulders trembled a little and he closed his eyes. His brows furrowed as he exhaled shakily. He looked as if he was only held together by a thin piece of string and a wad of chewing gum. The sight made your heart skip a beat in panic until you noticed the slight twitch of his lips.

He was trying not to laugh.

You choked on air. Kabru also choked on air, but for a very different reason. The succubus copy of you slowly sauntered toward him– you do not saunter like that, you would never saunter in such a manner, with that hungry look in your eyes and your lips parted ever so slightly. Horrifying. But like all good horrifying things, it also made you want to kneel over and start laughing until your stomach hurt.

“Kabru,” you gasped, barely holding yourself together, “You—”

“Shut up!” He snapped as he took several steps back, “Don’t overthink it! It’s nothing! It’s–”

Mithrun interrupted with a heavy, resigned sigh. He took a casual step forward and touched the succubus version of you on the shoulder. Its eyes widened and it tensed, but before it could react, it was gone. You were pretty sure he teleported it into a nearby wall, judging by the muffled, strangled hisses coming from nearby.

Kabru was still red, “I can explain.”

“I don’t think that requires an explanation,” Mithrun said flatly.

“You know what?” He glared, “Not everybody can be as unaffected as y—”

Another buzz, another footstep on the stone floor. The three of you froze once more as another succubus stepped out of the shadows.

It was also you.

Fortunately, this version of you was much less desperate. Yet there was something about it that reminded you of a painting in a cathedral. Perhaps it was the look in its familiar eyes, the sheer love and affection it held as it stared at Mithrun as if he was the only person who ever existed.

“That’s not mine,” Kabru said.

And it obviously wasn’t yours. Both you and Kabru looked at Mithrun.

The Captain was tense, his body taut like the string of a bow. His fingers twitched at his sides as he stared at the succubus. His good eye was wide and he kept blinking as if that might help clarify the existence of a version of you that looked at him so adoringly.

He schooled his expression and casually pointed at the love-struck succubus, “That’s not mine.”

“Of course it’s yours!” Kabru snapped, “Who else’s could it be?!”

Mithrun only shrugged. The soft tinge of pink on his cheeks betrayed his feelings.

Once again, you were at a loss of what to think. It was sweet. Your heart fluttered and emotion filled your throat. Yet, did he truly desire for you to look at him like that? Did he lie awake at night, wondering what it would feel like to have every ounce of your attention on him, to value him so dearly that you were incapable of seeing anyone else? The very idea knocked the breath from your lungs.

Except, Kabru ran a sword through the adoring, angelic version of you, and the mosquito monster screeched in a very not-you way. Mithrun only grimaced and chose to stare at the wall instead.

“Okay, so hopefully that’s the last of them,” you said. Your cheeks felt very warm. Kabru and Mithrun both desired you, though in different ways. You didn’t think that was possible. There was nothing more you wanted to do at that moment than run and hide and mull over possible explanations for what you’d just seen.

“Wait,” Mithrun stretched out an arm in front of you, “there’s one more.”

Despite his serious tone, awkwardness permeated the air. You were practically choking on it, unable to breathe normally because all your body could process was sheer embarrassment. Kabru’s ears were red. Mithrun looked more dead inside than usual. None of you would meet each other’s eyes.

The last succubus stepped out of the shadow. First, you saw a brown boot, then a familiar hand, then a familiar face.

You gasped, holding your chest as if afraid that your heart might burst through your skin. “I-It’s you…”

Mithrun and Kabru both looked at you. “It’s…” Mithrun couldn’t finish his sentence.

But Kabru could, “Your biggest desire is… The meat pie vendor who sets up shop on the corner on Thursdays?!”

He said it as if that was a bad thing.

The meat pie vendor smiled seductively and held out a fresh, steaming hot meat pie. You took a step forward, your hand trembling as you reached for the treat.

“You don’t even want him romantically!” Kabru yelled, “You just want him to give you food!”

Once again, he said it as if that was a bad thing.

Before your hand could brush along the flaky, warm exterior of the meat pie, Kabru pulled out his sword. Mithrun grabbed a broken piece of wood from the ground. It happened too quickly. There was no time to defend your desire. You gasped as the sword ran through the beloved meat pie vendor’s stomach, and as the wood was teleported through his neck. With an inhuman screech, the succubus collapsed to the floor.

Your friends, who wanted you, had just killed the one thing you wanted… Your heart was torn in two.

It was a complete mystery why both Mithrun and Kabru stormed out of the dungeon without saying one word to you. You were the one that should’ve been mad.

Still, as you took Kabru’s hand in your left and Mithrun’s in your right, they both gave your fingers a light squeeze.

Still, “We’re never doing this again,” Kabru said.

Mithrun nodded. You grimaced. And none of you ever spoke of it again.

#mithrun #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #asks #mithrun x reader #mithrun of the house of kerensil #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi x reader #kabru #kabru of utaya #kabru x reader #reader insert #x reader #my writing

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lavellaned · 5 months ago

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When I say I dislike the solavellan ending I don’t mean how they end up, I mean how they got there. Them ascending past the dinan’shiral together? The slight ambiguity of it all so anything could be canon? Them both surviving?!?!! Literally the best fucking ending that I wasn’t confident we would ever get. Just how we got there was kinda. You know.

I’m personally not the biggest fan of how Lavellan is in da4 (which I wasn't too surprised about since inky isn't pc), especially when it comes to Solas. The interactions rook can have with both of them about the other feel uneven, for lack of a better word. I can’t really believe Solas would ever talk about someone so precious to him to someone like rook, regardless of their relationship to him. I would’ve preferred it to be told environmentally, through found notes, journals, murals and have him not say a word about her. That feels more authentic to me. Because otherwise what we got was Lavellan waxing poetic about Solas and just casually dropping the fact that they were together and that they’re special to each other while all Solas says is that she’s a good woman that he cherishes.

And then I can’t help but compare it to trespasser. The ending to that dlc ruined me. To this day I still can’t listen to Lost Elf lmao. He kneels down to her, gently runs his fingers through her hair, holds her hand, and kisses her while saving her life from the anchor. The heart-wrenching, “My love.” His last words to her (and the last ones we hear for the next 8 years) are, “I will never forget you.” Are you kidding rn???? I’m demolished. I have never recovered. I get fucking shaky to this day thinking about it. Veilguard just didn’t match that for me.

The thing I do love about it though is the moment he first hears her voice. Nearly breaks his damn neck to look for her. And the way that just looking at her makes him so breathless we get the most tortured “vhenan” I’ve ever heard from him. The way his eyes get so soft. If they had kept that energy for the entire time they interacted in the end I would be one happy camper. But they just kinda didn’t.

I think my main issue comes from the lack of agency Solas has the entire time, even when Mythal lets him go. Maybe I’m just too sensitive to this and am seeing things that aren’t really there, but it has the feeling that things with Lavellan are just happening to him, and he doesn’t really get a say. Solas had no agency pretty much the entire game, and the game is pretty much about how his entire life has been like that. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely believe he wants her with him, but you couldn’t have held her hand at least and walked into the rift together? You just kinda walked away and if she goes, she goes? Idk man, could just be a me thing, but I do wish there was a slight tone difference, in that Solas is actually making a choice he wants for himself for once.

#it's actually just petty little things that make me feel this way #but one thing about me is i will overanalyze. im the overanalyzer.#im looking at every pixel in slow motion for the next 10 years and attributing observations to each and every one of them #da4 #dragon age #solavellan #solas #datv critical

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suugarbabe · 2 years ago

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Softer Side (Pt 2)

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warning: smut adjacent? Lil fluff

The door to potions slammed open as Mattheo and his gang of friends filed in for class. His eyes met yours briefly before sitting at the table in front of you. “He truly is a right prick isn’t he,” the boy to your left whispered. “Who is?” You asked, not really paying attention to him. “Riddle and his band of miscreants,” the boy stated. You scoffed slightly, “Have you ever even spoken to Mattheo?” Your question puzzled him, “Do I need to?” You rolled your eyes, turning away from him for the rest of the lesson.

When you were finally let out you got up quickly, wanting to separate yourself from the ignorance of the boy next to you in class. You felt someone fall in step next to you. You turned to tell them off when you were met with a dimpled grin. “Hello, Darling,” Mattheo sweetly spoke. You couldn’t control the blush that creeped onto your cheeks, “Hello, Mattheo. To what do I owe this pleasure of your presence?”

“Oh, love, if just my presence is giving you pleasure…” he trailed off, smirk plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder. “What are you really doing walking with me Mattheo? Won’t being seen with a pathetic Ravenclaw ruin your bad boy reputation?” You teased. Instead of playfully jabbing back Mattheo’s face turned serious, “I don’t think you’re pathetic, Y/n.” He threw an arm over your shoulder, “I also was just going to tell you how sweet it is when you defend me.”

“I wa- I mean, I just don’t think people really know the real you,” you stammered. Mattheo quirked an eyebrow, “Oh? And you think you do?” His tone was playful. You hadn’t even noticed he had guided you toward the Slytherin common you as you walked together. “What are we doing here? We’re going to miss Herbology,” you voice was soft. Truly you didn’t care about any class if Mattheo wanted to spend time with you.

“I figured you could tell me what you think you know about me, we’ll be alone in here,” he turned back to the stone wall, the door melting into view as he spoke the password. “Pura sanguine.” You rolled your eyes as you followed him into the common room, “Pureblood? How original.” He smiled at you over his shoulder, “Would you expect anything less?”

He led you to the black leather couches. You wouldn’t tell anyone else, but you quite liked the aesthetic of the Slytherin common room. You could see yourself spending a lot of time down here. “Sit,” Mattheo patted the spot next to him. You sat almost too obediently, making a small chuckle leave Mattheo’s throat. You blushed, pulling one leg to your chest and resting your chin on your knee.

“Oh don’t get shy on me now, love. We’re all alone. So tell me, what do you think you know about me.” He was facing you on the couch, his elbow leaning on the back as he rested his head against his fist. He had his famous shit eating grin, waiting for you to speak. You took a deep breath before starting, “I see you being a good person.” He raised his eyebrows, an amused look on his face before indicating with his hand for you to continue.

“I see you doing good things when you think no one is paying attention.”

“Oh, so you’re watching me, hmm?” You blushed at his words, “I don’t mean to, but after that first time I saw save that girl a few months ago I had to see if it was just a one off thing.” He grabbed one of your hands, tracing shapes in your palm, “And what did you discover, love?”

“That when no one’s looking, you essentially challenge every Slytherin stereotype. I’ve seen you volunteer your time in the library, clean up after your friends, I swear I even saw you laughing with a house elf last week.”

Mattheo smiled at this, “Winky is one funny lady, you should really get to know her if you get a chance.” You shook your head, smiling, “Well if you’re truly this kind and sweet person, why don’t you show it all of the time?” He sat up a little straighter, putting on a mocking tone, “Because it would ruin my bad boy reputation, right?”

“You are…so confusing sometimes,” you grabbed his hand that was holding yours before. “You allow people to have this idea of you, a terrible idea just because of your name, or your parents actions or who you associate yourself with. Why do you do that?”

He shrugged his shoulders, watching your fingers trace the scars on his knuckles, “Because I don’t care about what other people think, I know who I am. Other people’s opinions don’t bother me.” You nodded, “I wish I could live like that.”

“What, you can’t take people thinking you’re smart and attractive?” Mattheo chuckled. You blushed at his words, “People don’t think that about me.” Mattheo leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours ever so slightly. His breath fanned over your lips as he responded, “Well they should.”

In a moment his lips were crashing against yours. Your hand found it’s way to brown locks, instantly pulling on his curls. He growled into the kiss, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle his lap. You rolled your hips down, feeling him grow hard beneath you. He grabbed your hips tighter, bucking his hips up to meet yours. A gasp escaped your lips as Mattheo’s lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking, sure to leave a mark or two. Mattheo pulled back, admiring his work.

“These are gonna look so pretty tomorrow,” he smirked, tracing the marks on your neck. Your cheeks burned red as your buried your face in his chest. His hands rested just above your bum, lightly tracing his fingers up and down your back. You felt his chest rumbled as he chuckled lightly, “You know you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You sat up, pushing a curl off his forehead, “I’m glad you think so.” You sighed deeply, “I can’t believe the Mattheo Riddle just gave me a trail of hickies. What will people say?” You feigned a shock face, placing a hand on your cheek. He grabbed your wrist, placing a kiss on the inside of it, “Why don’t we go see, yeah?” He picked you up by your waist, helping you stand up, following suit himself. He grabbed your hand, smiling as he led you out of the common room.

#harry potter #golden era #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x you #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #theodore nott

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dracowars · 7 months ago

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angel | annatar

pairing: annatar x elf!reader

word count: 3,1k

summary: where annatar fails to protect what is most precious to him

a/n: this man has me in a chokehold, writing for him is so much fun!! thank you for all the love and support on my first annatar one shot, i'm so excited to write more for him in the future. i hope you enjoy this one as well and ily all <3

warnings: angst, manipulation, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of severe injuries, mentions of death, character death

universe: the rings of power

You breathe in relief when you finally reach a clearing, the fresh air blowing through your hair, the sun high in the sky warming your face. Breathing heavily and holding on to the stones at the exit of the cave tunnel you just stumbled through, you leave the protective walls behind you with a few more steps. Your gaze wanders over Eregion, immediately diminishing the short spark of joy you felt. The beautiful city, your home, lies in ruins. Most of the buildings have crumbled or burned beyond recognition and even from up here you can hear the roar of the numerous orcs invading the city. The sun, which brightens yet another day, does nothing to cheer you up. It is merely a reminder of what you have lost in the last few horrifying hours. The night may be over, but the battle is not.

You take a moment to take in the disaster, but hiss when you suddenly feel a stabbing pain in your abdomen. The climb up here has cost you an enormous amount of strength and you can't even formulate a coherent thought anymore. You look down at yourself, your precious dress dirty and torn. Trembling, you remove your hand from the wound on your stomach, where an arrow had pierced your flesh just a few moments ago. You broke it off in agony and tried to stop the blood with your hand, but you continue to lose blood, causing you to stagger a little.

You are not a fighter, you are a simple elf and resident of Eregion. Never in your eternal life would you have expected to see Eregion fall. And its Lord with it.

Celebrimbor has been entirely dedicated to the creation of the Rings of Power. For the past few weeks he has been left in solitude to end what he started. You gave him the time and space he needed. And prayed that he finishes his work before it finishes him, as Lord Annatar put it. But what did all these precautions ultimately lead to? You stood there, watching your only home get destroyed. You stood there, watching your best friend fall to her death by the hand of Celebrimbor. You stood there and let him accuse Annatar of the most atrocious deeds.

Annatar, who sacrificed so much for him, for this city. Annatar, who always helped everyone in need, who did not shy away from standing up against the Lord of Eregion or fighting for the well-being of the elves.

Annatar, who captured your heart.

Which is why you find yourself on top of a mountain right now and not in the middle of a fight for life or death. Celebrimbor's mind is gone. And the proof lies right in front of you, your beautiful, breathtaking Eregion - nothing more than rubble and ashes.

All you knew is that you had to follow him.

'Stay', Annatar told you with his beautiful shining eyes in which you discovered the stars. 'You are safe here.'

You nodded. And still followed him.

And now you understand why you should have listened to him. As you turn around and look into the forest that is at the top of the mountain, you see him standing there, his sword drawn. But he is not alone. At first you thought that your eyes were playing tricks on you, that the heavy loss of blood was confusing your thoughts, causing you to hallucinate, but you actually see Galadriel standing opposite him.

Not only that, they are also surrounded by orcs who are just waiting for the order to attack. An order from none other than Adar, who is slowly walking towards Annatar now as well, with his weapon drawn.

"No", you gasp under your breath, stumbling your way toward them. You take one painful step after the other. They haven't noticed you yet, the trees covering you protectively. Breathing heavily, you lean against a broad trunk, a few steps already exhausting your weak body, Annatar's words wafting over to you more and more clearly the closer you get. You swallow hard, but as you want to turn to them, your gaze is caught by an orc lying dead on the ground, his blade capturing the sunlight breaking through the treetops.

Carefully, you approach the creature and grab its weapon in a swift movement. The handle of the sword feels heavy in your hands and you would rather drop it immediately. But you have to somehow make sure that you can defend yourself if necessary. Once again, you breathe in and move on.

Galadriel and Adar are facing Annatar together now, apparently coming to a silent agreement to focus their attention on Annatar for the time being. Once you realize this betrayal, your weakend heart beats faster. Because how can Galadriel of the Ñoldor, daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin, Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-galad, side with this monster? With the man who is responsible for numerous deaths, for the destruction of Eregion? Whose orcs are currently ravaging an entire city, dividing families and carrying elven souls on their conscience.

Blinking your tears away that well up in your eyes at the thought and sight of it, you try to steady your steps. When you were just a little elf, you looked up to Galadriel, but now you don't recognize her anymore, from the stories you were once told. The only thing that calms you down a little is the fact that Annatar doesn't seem surprised by this turn of events at all. He stands there, his dark armour swallowing the rays of sunshine, his sword lying loosely in his hand. If you didn't know better, you imagine that you can even see a mischievous, knowing smile on his lips from the distance.

In a high arc, Galadriel swings her sword at Annatar and thus opens the fight. Annatar, however, dodges the attack skillfully, making it look like it was not even remotely dangerous for him. In contrast, Galadriel has to parry his blows with great effort. You didn't know that Annatar was such a good fighter, but it seems like he always has a trick up his sleeve.

Even when Adar joins the fight and Annatar now has to dodge two life threatening blades, he is not challenged at all. Although you wonder how long he can keep this up. No matter how good of a fighter he is, immortal or not, the odds are clearly against him. That is why you look around for help, searching for something that could potentially aid him in this battle. However, all you see is a lot of orcs standing at the other end of the clearing, idly watching the spectacle. Fearing that they might spot you, you step back in order to be hidden from their view by the thick trunk of a tree. Or so you hope.

As you move, a branch cracks under your boots. The sound is barely audible, but Annatar's gaze meets yours in an instant and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. It only takes that one split-second glance for him to discover that you are badly injured. That you are bleeding. And that you have disobeyed his words, his direct order.

Although he is only distracted for a tiny second, Galadriel takes this chance and strikes, hitting Annatar's face with the tip of her sword, which inevitably makes you gasp aloud in shock. Now Galadriel and Adar definitely noted your presence, the orcs as well, but you can only watch in silence as a tiny droplet of blood runs from the cut on Annatar's cheek.

"Leave! This is not your fight", Galadriel calls over to you, breathing heavily, her face and golden hair dirty. Her expression screams at you to go. Adar, on the other hand, looks at you with pity. And Annatar looks like he is about to burn the whole world down. In one swift move, he attacks Galadriel again, unable to believe that she has actually shed his blood.

You are forced to tear your eyes away from the fight, however, when you suddenly hear snarling and footsteps on the leaf-covered ground to your left. Your presence on top of the mountain seems to have peaked the orcs' interest.

Sharp pain shoots through your entire body as you lean your back against the tree trunk in order to hide your body from their view. You close your eyes to be able to discern their sounds better, breathing heavily. Gripping the hilt of the sword tightly with both hands, pressing it against your breasts with the blade pointing towards the ground, you stand there completely motionless. At least you try to, but the sword almost slips from your hands, your palms slick with your own blood, making it all the more difficult to hold on to. Your breathing is still louder and faster than you wish and you know that the creatures can smell your blood from miles away anyway.

They talk to each other as they get closer to you, completely ignoring their father's fight in the promising prospect of prey. When they are about to reach the tree behind which you are hiding, a command rings out through the thicket and the orcs look to its source and so do you. Before you can even realize what is happening, however, a blade suddenly pierces through Adar's upper body, causing the orcs to roar loudly. In an instant, they all charge towards the two figures that are still standing, Annatar's sword stained with black blood. To your surprise, not all of the orcs attack their father's murderer; some of them suddenly stab Adar, who has collapsed on the ground, with their own weapons.

They stab him again and again, black blood splattering everywhere. Bile rises in your throat, which you quickly swallow as you turn away from the horrifying sight.

When you hear your name across the clearing, however, you spot Annatar, who comes running towards you, the momentary chaos apparently enabling him to escape from the action as he reaches his hand out to you.

"You need to leave. Now", he orders, but you just shake your head with tear-filled eyes, which earns you a stoic but compassionate and sad look from him. He opens his mouth to reply, but doesn't get the chance when you suddenly see an orc charging towards you. With all your strength, you push Annatar away from you, so that the orc's axe lands in the tree trunk between the two of you. The sudden movement makes you dizzy and you almost fall to the ground if Annatar didn't grab your upper arm in the last second and pulled you up against him. The orc, now dead by his blade, lies to your feet.

The battlefield that stretches out before you is terrible: Adar's lifeless, blood-soaked body lies on the ground, Galadriel has to defend herself against some orcs, but the majority of them are attacking each other, apparently not agreeing on which orders they should follow now that Adar is dead. Some of them come towards you as well, not understanding their dead brother's warning. Annatar quickly grabs your hand and walks ahead, his body serving as a protective shield for you.

If you can't protect yourself, he will have to.

Together you fight your way through the charging orcs, whom Annatar defeats without much effort, so that you find yourself facing Galadriel again. She stands in front of you, dead orcs to her feet, one hand on her hip as she is obviously quite out of breath. When she spots you behind Annatar's back, her eyes widen.

"You're on the wrong side", she whispers through clenched teeth and slowly moves to the right, as if she wants to circle her prey. Annatar squeezes your hand briefly and then lets go so that he can fully concentrate on the fight in front of him. Before that, however, he signals you to move a little farther away, which you do immediately.

"Where are the rings?", he asks her, keeping a close eye on her, waiting for her next move. Meanwhile, you are struggling to ignore how the remaining orcs behind them are still fighting each other to death.

Instead of answering him, Galadriel sprints towards him with a battle cry and their swords meet several times. The force behind it causes Annatar to stumble a few steps backwards, towards you. Your vision is now so blurred, the pain running through your whole body so numbing, that you hardly notice it. You only vaguely perceive Annatar moving on to the next attack. Exhausted, you squeeze your eyes shut in the hope that the fog will clear from your vision. But it is to no avail. Everything is still blurry.

What you do see, however, is a small pouch lying next to the spot where Galadriel and Annatar are currently fighting. Narrowing your eyes, you try to discern what it could be, until Annatar's previous words come to your mind.

The rings. Galadriel must have lost them in the fight without noticing.

Making up your mind, you stumble a few weak, trembling steps towards it, away from the seemingly endless fight. When you reach the small pouch, you fall to your knees and carefully take it in your shaking hands. When you peak inside, several beautiful rings shine at you, enveloping you in their spell for a moment.

A moment it takes for an orc to stand in front of you with his raised blade after spotting you with the rings. A moment in which you can only raise your head and look the beast in the eye. Then his blood splatters everywhere, covering you in it, when his head is suddenly separated from the rest of his body with a clean cut. He would have ended your life here and now. You let out a frightened scream and frantically scramble to stand up when you feel a gentle touch on your arm. Looking deep into Annatar's eyes, you try to thank him for saving your life once again, but your vocal cords are not able to form any coherent words.

Then, everything happens very quickly. Out of the corner of your eye you see Galadriel rushing towards the two of you, her sword drawn. As if time moves very slowly, your gaze wanders to the man in front of you, who is unaware of the impending danger. Because his focus was on you, on protecting you. Without thinking twice, you tug on his arm, pulling him in your direction, and walk towards Galadriel yourself, throwing your beaten body between them.

You exhale in shock as her sword pierces right through your middle.

"NO!", you hear Annatar cry out loudly, anger and sadness mingling in his voice which breaks at the end. Galadriel, who is just as shocked as you are, stands in front of you with tears in her eyes. Her hand around her sword is trembling.

"I- I-", she stammers, but doesn't get much further as Annatar pushes her away with so much force that she flies through the air. She hits the ground and remains there, motionless. Gasping for breath, you fall to the ground as well, no longer able to hold yourself upright. Involuntarily, your hand goes to where the sword is still sticking out of you.

It hurts. It hurts so much that you can't even shed a tear, your breath catching in your throat. Black dots appear in your vision, covering the blue sky like stars. But then Annatar's face appears in front of you and they suddenly disappear.

"Stay with me. You hear me? Don't go", he shouts at you as he kneels next to you and bends over your fragile body, gently lifting you so that he can place your head on his lap. "No, no, no", he whispers quietly to himself, his hand wandering over your upper body without touching it, as if he could only do more damage otherwise.

You can't do anything but lie there, your throat too dry to choke out another word. The sun shining from behind Annatar's head makes him look like an angel, bringing a gentle smile to your chapped lips. With a trembling hand you lift the little pouch, which you still had in a firm grip, up to him.

Annatar's eyes widen and as soon as he feels the rings in his hand, he discards them. He feels your willpower leaving. Desperate for help, he looks around, thinking about how he could help you, how he could save you. But Galadriel is gone, with her one of the elven rings which might have given you a slim chance of survival. And he can't use the Nine because he personally made sure that they were corrupted.

"Why would you do that?", he asks you now, sounding so defeated, not understanding how you could give your life for his so thoughtlessly. If only you had known that he is not easy to kill, that his immortality cannot be threatened by a simple sword.

And yet here you are, on your way to the Halls of Mandos in Valinor.

"You can't leave me", Annatar says almost reproachfully, his hand gently stroking your still soft hair. His eyes, which look deep into yours, are getting glassier each moment. He simply can't accept that you are leaving him now, that you are leaving him alone, the only person who ever truly cared for him. Who made his cold heart of stone a little warmer, a little softer.

You were supposed to be his. His and only his forever.

"Leithio nin¹", your weak voice whispers in Sindarin, your hand searching for his and finally enveloping it on top of your slow beating heart. You tell him to release you, to release you from this pain, and yet he can't fathom how he should ever be able to let you go.

"I will bring you back. We will meet again, I will make sure of that. I promise. Even if I have to burn down the whole of Middle-earth just to see you again", he says, giving you one last promise which you consider with a small smile, your eyes heavy. You look at him closely one more time, to memorize his face for eternity, your trembling hand reaching for him. Before you can touch him one last time, feel his soft skin beneath your fingertips, your eyes close forever.

"Gi melin²", Annatar sobs, the words following you along on your journey before your last breath finally leaves you and your body goes limp in his arms. He puts his forehead against yours, pulling you as close to him as possible, rocking you, and a single tear finds its way down his cheek.

After just a few seconds, the sadness inside him mixes with anger. With unrelenting, burning anger. He will make everyone suffer for his loss.

He meant every word he said. He will bring you back, no matter what it takes.

And the One Ring will help him.

¹ Release me

² I love you

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kirain · 1 year ago

Note

Why would you pick Gale over Astarion? Man's a walking 🚩

Okay. 😒

This is the third anonymous message I've received regarding my Gale romance, and I genuinely don't get it. This isn't even a Gale-oriented blog, plus I've already answered it. I like him better. That's all there is to it. I've seen other users get hit with this question, too; as if Astarion's the only "right" choice, and it's never even warranted. I haven't said a bad word about Astarion or anyone who romances him, but the irony of you calling Gale a red flag, then shaming me for not choosing Astarion is mind-blowing. If Gale's a red flag, Astarion's an entire bunting.

Since you've pushed me, I would rather romance any of these NPCs before canonically choosing the vampire:

Hope that answers your question, anon. 👌

I was trying not to let it happen, but this fandom has effectively ruined any appreciation I might've had for the character. At this point, I'm just sick of hearing about him, especially in comparison to Gale. Everything isn't about Astarion, anon. Believe it or not, there are other really great characters, but fans like you just can't get through the day without propping him up above all others.

A few hours ago, as I was considering how to respond to this message, I bumped into this drama on a post about Shadowheart. Long story short, the uploader made a positive video where their Tav hugs Shadowheart during her personal quest, then someone came in to talk about how Astarion is "so much better" and expressed their desire to hug him during his personal quest.

Enough is enough. Seriously. I could go on and on about why Gale is actually a green flag, but I feel like I've done that extensively on this blog. And people like you will probably just disregard it anyway, because you don't like him. At the end of that day, that's really your motivation behind this, isn't it? You don't like Gale and you feel invalidated by people who do. I'm sorry, but that's a you problem. Don't go after people just because they prefer a different character. It's ridiculous.

And you know what the saddest part of this is? Astarion was next on my list to be romanced. I made a cute half-elf Durge character just for him. I wanted to do a redeemed run, since I've heard it's really rewarding ... but now I kind of don't care. Thanks for that, anon.

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amongemeraldclouds · 1 year ago

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Ruin The Friendship

A letter gets mailed to its intended recipient. A letter confessing your feelings. A letter you never meant to send.

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Warning: fluff, no use of y/n

Author’s note: My final entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt five. This was such a fun challenge, thanks for hosting @thatdammchickennugget ♡

✿ Masterlist | 1k words

“What letter? I didn’t have any mail to send, Daisy,” I ask our house elf as she updates me about the chores she’s done for the day.

“The letter beneath your bed. Daisy found it and to thank you kind miss for saving Daisy from your father’s fury yesterday, Daisy went the extra mile to send it,” she announces proudly.

“You mean,” I whisper, a sinking feeling growing in my chest, “the letter containing my deep and honest thoughts and feelings, about the boy I love, that I swore to myself I would never - and I mean never - send?” I exhale, feeling the edges of a panic attack creep in.

Daisy frowns. “Sorry miss, Daisy did not know. Daisy thought she was helping,” she apologizes, cowering in the corner.

“Stand up, Daisy. I’m not going to hit you,” I reassure her. “But I could hit myself so I don’t have to attend class tomorrow and face the mortifying events that are sure to follow.”

I jump up from my bed and nod, waving my wand. I could do that.

“Miss, please!” Daisy pleads. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s Daisy’s fault,” she hisses. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid Daisy!” She chides, punctuating each word by banging her head against my drawers.

“Stop, Daisy,” I reach out, touching her shoulder. "Fine” I sigh, “no one is hurting themselves.”

I am just going to have to go to school tomorrow and die from shame.

The letter

My sweet Enzo, It’s ironic you admire me for my bravery for taking down our childhood bullies and for being one of the top students in our DADA class. Yet here I am in a moment of weakness, thinking of you. Actually, even when I feel strong, defeated, or happy, I still think of you. In an ideal world, I’d be brave enough to tell you face to face. But we live in an imperfect world where hearts can break and relationships end, far more often than anyone would like. So if it saves our friendship, I can and must lock my heart away. I wish I can tell you when or how it happened, but I myself don’t understand. All I know is that I’m hopelessly in love with you. There, I said it.

The aftermath

I peer into Enzo’s dorm, head snaking past the door.

Please, please, please, let it be vacant. Let it be vacant, I chant in my head.

I sigh when silence greets me and move the rest of my body inside, sagging against the door in relief.

What are the odds that Enzo has already read a letter that just arrived this morning? He’s probably at quidditch practice, which means I still have a shot at saving myself from utter mortification. And more importantly, to save our friendship.

I scan his room and hurry towards the table littered with books, dried ink splotches stain the oak wood. If the letter were anywhere, it would be somewhere he—

I yelp when a door opens and turn towards Enzo stepping out from the bathroom with damp hair clinging to his scalp, water dripping down his sculpted chest, running along his toned abs. All hail quidditch.

He clears his throat and I bite my treacherous tongue - the one that unconsciously moved across my lips. Salazar, if I don’t get my act together, I won’t even need some stupid letter to reveal my feelings.

My cheeks burn as I return my gaze to his amused expression. “What the hell are you doing here and why are you naked?” I accuse. That’s right, I’m just blushing because I’m angry.

He adjusts the towel across his hips and I turn away, shoving the image of his toned figure from my mind, trying not to imagine whatever else is beneath his towel. “First of all, not naked,” he states.

“And more importantly, you’re asking me what I am doing, taking a shower, here in my dorm?” he points to the floor for emphasis. I wince and kick myself internally.

“I thought you’d be at quidditch practice,” I try. “I just - I just lost something and thought it might be with you.”

“What is it? I can help you look,” he offers, moving towards me and I step back.

“Enz please, put some clothes on first!” I plead, reminding myself to breathe.

I stop midstep when I feel something cool and solid behind me and I realize I’ve backed into a wall. Why the hell is Enzo prowling towards me like I’m his prey?

I close my eyes when he stops just in front of me, heat radiating from his body. I will myself to disappear, to fuse with the wall, to—

“By any chance,” he starts, “the thing you’re looking for. Is it white and made of paper—”

No, no, no, no, I chant this time, my eyes opening to stare at him in horror.

He continues, “the one with your handwriting scrawled inside?”

All the words leave my mind.

He smirks, “it would be a shame if you lost it and wanted it back because I rather liked it.”

“Y-you do?” I whisper.

His smirk gives way to a warm smile. “Darling, you’re more courageous than I am and I still admire you for your bravery. You managed to write it. Here’s my response: I love you too.”

“Well technically, I never meant to send it. It was Daisy,” I try to explain.

“So I have Daisy to thank. I’ll bring her flowers next time,” he says, making a mental note before continuing. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time too, but I was also worried it could ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same.”

“Now that we’ve established we feel the same…” I begin but trail off when he rests his arm on the wall above me and leans in. My breath hitches.

“I won’t need my clothes until much later,” he ends my sentence.

It’s not what I was going to say but the second I open my lips to protest, his mouth crashes into mine and nothing else matters.

#hogmarch challenge #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire #enzo x reader #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fandom #slytherin boys #wizarding world #amongemeraldcloudswrites

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veilishvixen · 2 months ago

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Sorry…just imagining the Inquisitor standing in the great hall of the Archon’s palace as Dorian makes his ascension; watching the north celebrate its narrow victory while the south is but a smoldering ruin. And to watch it all as a DALISH ELF…the slave Capitol winning once again while you mourn your incalculable losses…I know Minrathous is more than it’s sins and Dorian’s rule will bring about a great deal of change, but there is no undoing the harm that has already been inflicted.

Idk maybe I’m just a bitter loser, but it was actually stunning to me that joining Solas in the fade was locked behind his romance. It would truly make more sense for an unromanced inquisitor to join him out of doubt that he would succeed alone. Their home, their beloved forests and babbling brooks and farmlands and cities and cultures have already begun to fade from memory in the clutch of this dark power…and they’re just supposed to sit back and take Solas at his word? The man whose mistakes saw to the erasure of his own world? I do love him, but when has Solas ever successfully achieved anything good on his own?

It can very well be read as a sappy ending, too good to be true for a solavellan Inky, but for the others? Tragedy…just tragedy. They would see the blight peeled back from their home. They would see the animals and crops return. After fighting the corruption so hard and for so long…idk, I would certainly have a hard time just letting go of the south. This is part of why I believe the writers flopped massively by trying to spin similarities between Solas and Rook’s characters when Solas and the Inquisitor already shared the same reflection.

We saw how little of a difference their politicking made as the south was falling. The Inquisitor’s name still holds some influence, but evidently not as much as it once did, not enough to shine light back on the south again. Going with Solas and making sure that he gets the job done and in record time was truly the only ending I felt my Inquisitor would accept, even though she had fallen in love with him.

Joining Solas in the regret prison would be hell for any inky, but I doubt going back to the current state of Thedas would be heaven either…not after you’ve spent over a decade fighting just to lose. This is also why I feel like we should have gotten to see Inky and Elgar’nan clash at least once. He lost…but not before taking everything (except maybe your romance) from you.

Romanced, befriended, or foe…I like to think that Solas and Inky could have found some peace in this final journey together…what is it a befriended Inquisitor says to him at the end? “We saved the world together once. Can’t we do it one last time?”…and who’s to say the Inquisitor would have to stay with him forever? A romanced Inquisitor may swear to accompany him always, but the others? After seeing the effects of the blight start to recede…maybe they could choose to retire at last…to see to the world’s physical healing in their mortal skin, age finally catching up to them, while Solas toils ever on in the fade…his life force sustaining the veil for all eternity and his spirit self singing softly to the mad titan minds he’d severed all those long years ago.

Me outside the boarded up writers room 50 years from now:

#i think ab a Dorian romancing Inquisitor and just cry #you are happy for your love…but what of YOUR home?#babbling again #I will never leave this place #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age inquisition #solavellan #solas #pavellan #datv #inquisitor lavellan #dragon age #pavelyan

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morallygreychaoticneutral · 2 months ago

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Spawn Astarion is "Stronger" than Ascended Astarion.

Ugh..this winter depression made me its bitch this time around and I didn't even get orgasms or snacks out of it.

Disrespectful!

So, lets shake these blahs by sharing some tea about our favorite elf. Hmmm..how about some Inner Reset. Sweet fennel, aniseed and cardamom.

This thought pot was started when I was reading a lot of comments about how "weak" Spawn Astarion is and how Ascending him is the best possible outcome for him. Is it? I feel Spawn Astarion is worthy of a high level of respect. More so than his Ascended version in my opinion.

Now, before an army of beloved dark consorts come for my neck, I do NOT have an issue with your master. I mean, if your going to have a evil, world dominating evil fantasy I would choose him too. I am with you on that. I am merely aligned with with his other half and enjoy sharing why.

Now go! You know your sovereign doesn't like his highly prized and guarded treasure straying too far. And I have no desire to have to explain to him why you are in my foyer. But, you are welcome to stay if you have permission and manners. * wink *

WARNING: Game Spoilers, Topics of Sex, Abuse, Torture and Adult themes including language. Not underage appropriate.

This is not fact. Just opinion based off my own and game experience. As always, how anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right! No blame, no shame, it's your game!

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Lets wander a bit.

Imagine if you will, that you made a poorly educated choice. And because of it, you were locked into slavery for centuries under the thumb of a mentally unstable captor. Your choices being do as you are told or suffer endless unimaginable pain you could never escape from due to your bond with your tormentor and your undead nature. You wouldn't die from the torture that would kill a mortal within minutes. You would suffer it for days, months, even years. True death was beyond your reach. Forever trapped in an endless cycle of pain.

But, you could "buy" a tentative reprieve.

The price? A strangers life.

No brainer, right? But here's the catch. The use of your body was required and the choices of what happened to it are anyone's but yours. Used any way your deranged captor wanted. Or your conquests for that matter. No boundaries, no autonomy.

So, what would you choose? Ceaseless pain? Or sexual slavery?

Seems like an easy choice. Luring strangers to their deaths by spinning intricate webs of lust promised lies to convince them of your false sincerity. Trapping them and feeding them to the spider that is your master. He is happy and you get to keep the skin on your bones. Well, more often than not at least. Better on a pain scale. But it is still torture.

But let's add in another level of complexity. Your sense of right and wrong is still intact. You are not "evil". Had you been it would have made the choice way too easy. You wouldn't have given a single thought about who you lured to deaths door. The act being nothing more than an annoying chore. But no, you still feel.

Damned if you do, dammed if you don't. Pick your hard.

This was Astarion's impossible choice.

And he chose what anyone who wasn't completely insane would choose. Not that it was any better. Not with his conscious still alive and well.

He talked like he was indifferent at times, but he carried remorse and accountability for his role in those people's demise. Even if he didn't want to.

"All these people were ruined because of me. Don't hate me. I did what i had to. i swear. I did what i had to!"

Deeds and beliefs against our true nature create shame. And shame is a self-destroying belief that evolves into loathing. And loathing is a vicious, rotting emotion that gives birth to soul crushing envy.

"I did these horrible things to innocent people. I deserve to suffer for my wretchedness. But why is no one else having to suffer consequences but me?!"

This is a poisonous concoction of turmoil that flays us emotionally.

Feelings Astarion fights with through the entire storyline. And he spends most of the game hiding because of it. His vampirism, his real personality, his sins.

Who wouldn't?

By societal standards he was already classified as a monster for being a vampire. By emotional standards he was considered weak and pathetic for being empathetic and saving space for others. And by moral standards he was evil for his roll in luring so many back to a sadistic master.

What a shit show.

But It wasn't who he truly was. Was he vampire? Yes, but he admired heros like Drizzt who bucked the social norm that he should be evil and chose otherwise. Was he empathetic? Yes, he tried to avoided innocents when he could and chose villains instead. Was he evil? No. He took no pleasure in the orders he was given. Unlike Jackass, pardon, Petras, he fought against Cazador's orders more often than not.

The inner villain vs the inner hero. A war raging in his own being that made the decision in what to do in regards to the ritual all the harder. Because on some level, both decisions made sense.

Mercy..

"But, if he was good, why was the decision so hard?"

For two centuries Astarion bore witness to Cazador being anything but "good" and getting everything handed to him. Power, wealth, pleasure. All the things Astarion had been convinced was worth anything in the world.

Which echo's real life, doesn't it. How many times has society sold you the idea that your value is based purely off of what you own (wealth), look like (sex appeal) or accomplish (reputation) ? Hmmm.

He did everything society told him was the thing to do to win at life didn't he? He was wealthy and accomplished by being a magistrate. He was beautiful and alluring in his body and looks. All the spoils of life should have been handed to him. But instead, it was taken.

"And what am i owed? What about the injustices I've suffered-am i not entitled to anything? Everything was taken from me, too."

And then, to add insult to injury, he finds out the Rite of Profane Ascension would "gift" Cazador, the man who has used and abused him for centuries, with new life and unfathomable power. The power to do anything. To be anything at the expense of Astarion's body and soul. Even if he died in the ritual, he still wouldn't be free.

"To place him in a position of such esteem the world will yearn to kneel. And offer their necks. Of course I envy him. Why wouldn't I?"

He is understandably envious. What an absolute unfair joke that that cesspool of a person, that demon, gets such a high prize for being anything but pure evil. Having done none of the dirty work to achieve it. His success built entirely off the suffering of others. Especially, Astarion's. Is there no justice in the world?!

From his lens, I can understand why he would want to complete the ritual. Pulling it off would feel like a justified prize for all he has suffered. Doing so would take away anyone's ability to hurt him on any level. Mental or physical. He really does believe it will grant him safety after decades of having none. A prize for pain. Finally.

But it's another impossible choice for him to make.

Choice 1: Ascend

Defeat Cazador and he gets everything he ever wanted. Power, life, freedom.

The price? Send seven thousand souls, including the innocent, straight to Avernus to suffer for all eternity. Wiping out every living memory of the sins committed. All the shame, mistakes, misdeeds, gone. The only people left to speak of it are his companions. A minuscule number against thousands.

That does sound delicious. Destroy all evidence of your sins and gain ultimate power. What's not to like?

Choice 2: Sabotage the ritual / release the spawn.

( yes i know there is a third but my Astarion didn't pick that route.)

Cazador is defeated and he gets only one thing he wanted. Freedom.

The price? He forfeits unimaginable power and is cast back into the shadows to remain a spawn. The thousand or so souls he wronged survive and could demand retribution at any time.

A seemingly bitter prize. What could possibly be worth this choice?

What indeed.

Again, no shade to the ascenders. It absolutely can be the right choice depending on your intention. Your love gets epic power and a thrall of vampire spawn are rendered harmless. Win win. I get it.

But, after all the inner and outer battles of belief against himself, MY Astarion made the decision to give all of those suffering souls their free will. Free to have the chance to save themselves, find space in world, find purpose, and find love just as he had.

This elf, soaked in pain and agony, frightened of every intention he could not control, choked by rage and envy. Chose mercy for others at his own expense.

What in the healing powers of forgiveness and acceptance is this?!

The level of selflessness and strength it took to make that decision is mind altering.

That one act of empathy raised him to a level beyond what Mephistopheles could ever offer him. He overcame the limiting beliefs set upon him by others. Won the ultimate boss fight of dominating his own demons and became a hero even Drizzt Do'Urden would be proud of.

No gods or devils required.

That, to me, is the ultimate "ascension".

(Swoon..)

"But he didn't do it on his own. It took his peers to talk him down. He wanted to do it."

Did he? If you listen, every time he talks about ascending with your character, he is seeking approval for it. Which means deep down it is not sitting right with him either. Otherwise why would he give a damn what you think?

Sometimes we need our friends and loved ones to remind us that who we are in our most genuine state is more than enough for anything. To have another soul look at you and say "I enjoy the hells out of your essence. Don't change it." means so much. Sure there are those raised with enough self love and confidence they don't need outside validation. But for the rest of the bruised and sore souls, it's like cool water poured on parched ground. Softening the shell and allowing growth to happen.

And I think Astarion was no different. He needed to hear that in that moment. He needed to know that his closest companions accepted and loved him for who he was. Not for who he could be. That there was nothing shameful or wrong for being truly himself. Forgive himself for deeds done beyond his control and chose his own path in life.

He was just surrounded by villains, not friends. He was not a monster because of his vampirism. He was not pathetic for having a thoughtful soul. (have you seen some of his dialogue with Durge and Karlach?) And realized he deserved more than he allowed himself to believe he did.

When we know better, we do better.

We are the product of our environment. Be sure to check yours.

"You believed in me-believed I was enough just the way I am."

He doesn't need to be a lord for me to hit my knees and offer my neck. I would be, am, absolutely proud to stand at he side of this "weak" elf. Because if weak means being sweet, silly, proud, forgiving and evolving. Then give me weak.

He may not have the power to concur the world. But he has the power to capture mine.

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"So we hide away and never tell. You decide if darkness knows you well. That lesson of love, all that it was. I need you to see.

You got that power over me. My, my. Everything I hold dear resides in those eyes. You got that power over me. My, my. The only one I know, the only one on my mind. You got that power over me."

Dermont Kennedy

#baulders gate 3 #astarion ancunin #spawn astarion #my headcanons #pale elf #self love #acceptance of self

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bbr0wni3 · 10 months ago

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Melting like gold.

(One shot)

♡ -> Legolas x reader

-> Content & warnings: female reader, fluff, love confession, Thranduil and Tauriel's scene reference, narrated in 2nd person.

Summary: After a harsh "supposedly" private conversation with Thranduil, you seem to not handle the strong emotions well, letting you burst on tears and run deep into the forest..

-> word count: 1.8k

-> (a/n): hii, this is the first time Im going to upload one of my silly fanfics on tumblr ^^ I recently finished the lord of the rings and the hobbit trilogy so what's better than a one shot of the pretty elf ;)

Sorry in advance if there are some misspelled words/grammar/phrases,etc. English is not my first language!!

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The sound of your heels hitting the floor echoes along the halls of Mirkwood, your hair swings and the sun hits your face as soon as you head through the garden to get to the other side of the palace, and to Thranduil's chamber.

You were informed that he wanted to speak with you privately.

You stand outside the door for a moment, taking a deep breath and knocking three times on the long and white glass door.

"Come on in" is heard from inside the room.

Stepping inside, you see Thranduil standing from a distance with his arms behind his back, walking slowly in circles around the room. Your eyes meet his, and you keep your lips separated for a moment before you speak out loud.

"My lord, I must apologize, the spider nest failed to be destroyed, we were able to clear the forest as ordered, but more spiders kept coming up from the south, they are spawning near the ruins of Dol Guldur, we were soon outnumbered, but it was my task to accomplish and i-"

As you mouth non-stop your concern to the king, he eases your chatter.

"That is not the term I wanted to discuss." He stops his walking and turns his body to face you. There's a pause as he makes direct eye contact and starts walking towards the giant window where he has the most stunning view of not only Mirkwood but beyond the lake and the shape of mountains. You now follow his steps so you're both focused on the view, the silence breaks.

"Legolas said you fought well today" Thranduil began to speak. Your gaze falls to the ground as you try to hide the slight smirk that appears on your face. Locking in your expressions, you face the window again.

"He's grown very fond of you." He continues to speak. Your eyes are wide open now, trying to glance at Thranduil's face, as also avoiding eye contact, to maybe catch a glimpse of how he feels about these sudden words he's sharing with you.

"I assure you, my lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a captain in the guard." You speak while you are once again looking out the window. Your heart breaking in your own hands, set on fire, and shattered like glass.

As much as you wish to believe that what you're saying was a lie, you're only being truthful when you wish you wasn't.

"Perhaps he did once, now I'm not so sure" Thranduil responded while taking a place behind you, his words echoing in your mind, you can't believe that that's the way he thinks about Legolas and you.

"I-i do not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly silvan elf like me." You close your eyes, every word that you pronounce feeling like you're being stabbed with a sword. Your own sword of dilusion, as you dream of hearing Thranduil deny your response, but he does not.

"You're right, I would not. Still, he cares about you. You do not give him hope where there is not." His harsh demeanor and cold tone completely finishes to sink your heart beyond measure. As you slowly open your eyes again, you can almost feel how they burn as you fight back tears.

"Of course, my lord." Is all you get to say, straightening up and swallowing your pain.

"Let it pass, let it pass, don't cry now " you repeat over and over inside your head.

"Alright, you can go now" His words now a key that unlocks you from this cage, you bite your lip and just nod, walking towards the door where you came from.

As soon as you step outside, a single tear goes down your cheek, and you quickly wipe it off as you only want to get out of there, you escape so fast you don't even realize Legolas was hiding beside the door this whole time, hearing all and watching how your tears began to stream down your face.

His eyes open, and his lips separate, almost mouthing something, but he does not, he only watches you leave.

"How can i stand here and do nothing?!" He thinks to himself, questioning his behavior and angry at himself but mostly angry with his father for making you cry, for making you think there wasn't any other path but to never try and fall out of love.."love" he though for a moment, that's what he feels for you.

He grabs his bow and places it behind his back. He runs across the palace and heads to the gates.

"Open the gates!" Legolas yells at the elven guards that secure the entrance.

"As you order my prince." one of the two guards said, as they see their prince so desperate to go out for some reason.

The gates open, and he heads to the bridge and into the forest. He knows his father is watching from above the tower, through his window, and for sure judging his own son. But Legolas doesn't care enough, not even a command from the king would stop him from going out and looking for you, even if he had to cross mountains or fight a thousand orcs to get to you, believe me, he would.

However, that won't happen now because he knows exactly where you are.

He knows exactly the place your heart seeks the most when your day doesn't go as you expect, because you know you'll always find him there, only a place the two of you know and always kept a secret, it's your place.

"Across the lake and behind the trees, promise me you'll look for me, and this would be our secret place. " Your voice in Legolas' memories came back to him as he kept pacing through the forest, a sweet promise under the stars. That night, he knew what love was meant to feel like, that night and many others, where he kept this promise of being there for each other.

And you were there, as Legolas predicted. Your back laying on a big mossy rock, your hair shining through the last remaining light of the sunset, your eyes closed as you felt the breeze of the approaching night coming in, the one that blew dry the tears that were still falling from your beautiful eyes.

Legolas tried to be as quiet as possible as he wants to give you this moment of silence before he speaks, he fails to do so when he steps on a branch that even made the birds from the trees fly away.

Alerted you grab your bow, turning your whole body to face the unknown danger, pointing towards the sound, ready to shoot. Only for Legolas to meet with your face full of tears while you meet his sapphire eyes, the ones that you die for, the ones that are now painted with worriedness.

You lower your bow and stand up in front of him. You want to run to his arms and melt like gold in his embrace, but the words of Thranduil resonate in your head "you do not give him hope where there is not."

The blonde elven man starts to step closer to you, your heart beating so fast that you wouldn't be surprised if it got out from your chest, you're sure that if he extends his arm he can feel it pounding, and that's how closer he stood from you.

Another tear falls from your eyes, you turn your face to the right to try and hide it, but he already saw it, and soon I know I would miss the blue if his eyes.

"I heard your conversation with my father." He confesses. You close your eyes to let a second tear fall, and choose to look at him again.

"Then you should not be here." The words scrape your throat. The resistance that lies upon them is a chain forged by Thranduil for you to grab on while leaving marks on your hands by doing so. You search his face focusing on his eyes, trying to see if you can find a way for him to notice that your words are only a mirror of Thranduil demands, and not what you actually want to say.

"But I choose to be here, with you" He steps even closer, you take a small step back even if you don't want to, but he does want to feel you close so he grabs your wrist with his right hand and pulls you closer, and for a few inches you notice that he is now even closer than before.

"Please legolas, you're making it harder for me to-" your words almost coming out as a whisper, a sigh.

"To what? To finally correspond my feelings?. I choose to be here for a reason." He insisted. His thumb took a place on your cheek, caressing the wetness from your old tears and preventing a third one from falling. You close your eyes at his touch, warm and soft.

Your body surrenders and calls for this warmness, you place your hand on top of his, you cannot play as if you didn't want to he like this forever, you crave his touch more than anything else, and by the way your face leans towards his hand he knows you do.

"You've heard what your father said. He would never allow us to be together, not like this." You open your eyes, his eyes pierced on your face, he looks bewitched, enchanted by your beauty, by having you so close, a way he had dreamed of many times.

In that moment you realize he kept his promise, he came looking for you and now is holding you with such love and desire.

"I don't care what my father allows or wants, not even a little bit, for as I already know what i want, what my heart wants. I would never, not even in a thousand elven years not choose to love you, and i cannot think of a lifetime without you, so please...please"

There's a small pause as he tries to catch his breath from speaking so quickly, you decide to take it away from him one last time as you lean to kiss him, finally breaking the chain that kept you longing for this reciprocated love.

You let your whole body be held by him, his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck. His long hair twirled around your fingers and also tickling your cheeks, which are now fully dried, because he took the time that nobody else would've taken to stop this storm that clouded your thoughts and drowned your eyes.

He came as the sun and gifted you a rainbow.

You both separate your lips and let yourself breathe against each other, your foreheads touching and the tip of your noses brushing on one another. You both let a breathy laugh as you share a strong hug.

It seems like the same stars that crowded the sky that one promising and memorial night are above you both again, shining again under another lovely promise.

_________________________________________

Thank you for reading! <3

#legolas greenleaf #legolas greenleaf x reader #lord of the rings #lord of the rings x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #thranduil #legolas x reader #fanfiction #legolas one shot #legolas x you #x reader #lotr x reader #lotr fandom #the hobbit fandom #the hobbit fanfiction

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hihelloheyhowdy · 2 months ago

Text

To Try (Loki x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Light Elf!reader gets into an arranged marriage with Loki

Warnings: Extremely canon divergent- takes place around Dark World, Kinda OOC (Loki discovers remorse), not beta-read, use of norse mythology, kinda opening ending

Word count: 10K

_____

Rarely did your father allow you such the luxury of voicing an opinion, growing accustomed to being spoken over despite being set to inherit the throne. Everyday you were reminded of this bitter truth, that you were not born the son of the nation; but a woman. You had spent years attempting to change this reality from a perfect education, to proficient sorcery nothing seemed good enough. No, your father desired to heir a king, but your mother grew infertile after your birth. So naturally, no matter how much you squandered and begged for his favor, you'd be met with distain. However, you would still try to defend your people, it was your birth right.

"Father, you cannot ignore the insolents of the Asgardians. They wage war with the Jotuns, and attack the Midgardens. Both of which break peace treaties, and consequently have ruined delicate trade agreements."

"You speak of insolents, yet you dare stand before me ordering me as though you are the ruler, and I, your subject", His gaze towards you turned cold, as he glared down at you from his throne. "You will listen wisely, the only reason I keep you, is because the Aether chose you. For whatever reason I cannot fathom."

Yet another reason for your father's hatred. The Aether that had been guarded by the royal family since the war had been won against the dark elves. It had been tradition that each royal member carry the burden of its seal as a mark of their power. However, your father had been unable to do so. A truth he hid from his own people, and one that would sure compromise his throne. When you came of age your father had begrudgingly let you attempt to seal it, due to worry for your grandfather's impending death with the passage of time. Instead of being proud of your success, it only seemed to fan the fires of detestation.

"Perhaps it is because you do not have power, that you choose to fear the Asgardians instead of face them for the good of our people", You knew that would be dangerous to say, but you also knew that the only way to get him to act was to threaten his pride.

"You will watch the way you speak to your king! Perhaps the power has gone to your head young one! You think foolishly!" His wrath no longer made you shake as it did in your youth. No, now you look at your once admirable father with disappointment. No weaker there is than a man who hides his cowardice behind rage.

"Perhaps it is because you are powerless and pusillanimous that you refuse to act, father."

He set his scepter down as he stood, "Fine, you wish to see what will come of speaking with the Asgardians than we shall go. Do not blame me if the outcome is not what you desired." He was no longer yelling, but he addressed you with distaste in his cold tone. Despite this, you took the win. Regardless of his judgment, you would do whatever it took to correct the political standings with Asgard.

"Very well, I shall make preparations to set off soon."

_____

There was a strange serenity in arriving in Asgard. Despite your father's dampening presence, the beauty of Asgard had over taken you. The streets were bustling, and every corner was livelier than the next. The castle itself gorgeous, adorned in gold and art. The castle also seemed eager to tell the story of the royal family, with carvings and painting. You would not be shocked if they had a stained glass window of the Allfather around. Speaking of which, you had finally arrived to face him. Atop his throne he had reminded you much of your own father, with a piercing gaze, stern facing, and hard exterior. His hair was grown out turning white from aging, but his bread was kept well trimmed; surely an Asgardian status symbol, similar to the gold armor he was adorned in.

"I was quite surprised to hear from the light elves, I trust your reason for such a trip is quite a diplomatic one." He spoke in a tone that left little to determination, he was testing the waters of your visit. It would come to no shock that he would be on guard, seldom did your people venture out to the other realms. You strode ahead of your father, and bowed your head to the king.

"It is an honor to meet you Allfather. We are indeed here to discuss diplomatic relations regarding the Asgardians behavior." You kept your voice steady, and your words respectful, last thing you'd wanted to do is risk waging a war with Asgard. Although, you could not see your father's face, you could assume he would be angry you have addressed the Allfather rather than him. Odin, seemed to also take note of this.

"Tell me, do you speak for your father, the king?" His tone now was more calculative, and aimed to test you. Perhaps, you are acting out of turn, yet in this moment you do not care. Your father did not bother to look into the papers you had written out for him, and you doubted he truly knew the matters you intended to address in this visit.

"I speak for my realm's prosperity, your majesty." This time you had looked him in the eyes as you spoke, this answer seemed to please, or at the very least amuse him.

"And what is that concerns your realm's prosperity?"

"The recent invasions on both the Jotuns and the Midgardens have left races in other realms unwary, and in fear of violence trade routes are decreasing as less nations reach out to others. We have began to see signs of this economic effect, and I wish to stop it before it damages the livelihood of our people. This cannot be done without Asgards help, the others of the nine realms look to you for guidance."

Odin stood up from his throne, "I shall look into your claim, if I determine there is validity to your concerns, then I will discuss this matter further. For now, your journey has been tiring, rest."

You bowed your head once again, as you bit your tongue. Of course your claims had validity, why else journey to the Allfather, but you could not speak out of turn more than you already technically had. You just had to pray he did not find it entirely dismissive.

"Thank you for your generosity, your majesty."

_____

Loki was reading another one of the books Frigga had brought him. He had tried to focus on the words in the pages in front of him, but all he felt was the slow guilt eating him alive. Odin would never be his father, but Frigga had always been his mother. Odin hidden his true nature, hoaxed him into believing he could one day be king, discarded him in favor to Thor, and punished him for all of his days to come. However, his mother had always been gentle, even when Loki did not deserve it. She had taught him a million lessons, of magic and morality.

He thought back to her words, had he been so blinded by rage he could not see her reason? His mother was right in one aspect; mortals are still living, and he had taken their lives for what? He could easily blame it on Thanos, to say it was because of his manipulation, but it was not the full truth. No, it only amplified the envy and hatred that Loki had already been facing. His actions were of his own accord, and this time it was clear he had gone too far given even his mother seemed distraught.

He had not even noticed when he had began destroying parts of his cell. He should feel no remorse, he is a god, and they were mere mortals. He had deserved to be a king, deserved to be treated as Thor's equal. For some odd reason, he could not shake the voice of his mother from his head. He was cunning, malevolent, and underhanded. He had always acted in his own favor, and with no regard for others. These were things he had accepted long ago, it was in his nature. He had never once felt a sense of self-reproach or sorrow at this, why now was it consuming his every thought?

Certainly, it was all the time in this prison. It had given his mind far too much time to wonder. He began to be poisoned by the notion he could ever change, ever grow to regret his decision. No, what had happened in New York revealed what was truly hidden within him, he was monstrous. Maybe this came from being a Frost Giant, he really was the monster parents tell their children about to scare them to bed. His mother had only said those words because she still had hope that Loki being raised as an Asgardian would change his nature, but clearly it had not. If anything Odin was the one that was right, Loki's birthright was to die in that cold amongst the rest of the barbarians.

_____

You felt the silk gold sheets were pulling you, and drowning you further in thought. Slowly each part of you was being eaten alive by all the possible outcomes of this situation. Until news had finally arrived, your father and you would have a formal discussion with the Allfather and Allmotber tomorrow. This did little to quell your nerves, however, as such a quick reply could mean two incredibly varied outcomes. The best outcome would be that Odin had realized the gravity of the economic situation, and thought it so obvious as to warrant immediate intervention. Alternatively, the contrary could occur, Odin thinks your situation so obviously pointless, and undeserving of Asgards assistance. You had eventually succumbed to your exhaustion, but not without a terrible feeling nagging at you.

_____

You were overcome by anger; you did not know what you were saying until it had already come out, "With all due respect your majesty, when you became the Allfather you had taken responsibility for the wellbeing of the nine realms. Although, it seems you act as King of Asgard first, and Allfather second. Trade and political alliance between our people greatly benefits both parties, we have access to medical herbs and practices that could prove advantageous for Asgard. The greater sale of these goods would in turn help our economy blossom. I do not see why you seem to so quickly disregard how other races could aid you, do you really think us so bellow you?"

Your father had turned to you as though you had just committed treason, which you might as well have. You had blatantly accused the Allfather of neglecting the realms, and treating Asgardians as superior to others. You do not regret it, in fact you do not even think it an accusation as he had been doing so just now. He had known nothing of your nation, but was quick to claim that there would be no gain in political affiliation with Asgard. Odin had kept his face straight, showing no signs of emotion or reaction. Instead, deeper in his eye there seemed to be something brewing. Once again it was that calculative look, but this time there was something more sinister behind it.

"Very well. You claim I think other races below Asgard, and you claim to be in need of political alliance to us that could prove beneficial. Why not unite our people?"

The Queen Frigga, seemed to catch on to what Odin was implying before your father or you. Her soft resting expression seemed to turn stern. Her eyes that had once been tender and motherly, seemed to lose their light blue hues to a darker spark of emotion as she turned to her husband. Before she could utter a word, she was swiftly cut off by Odin's continuing.

"You see, my son Thor is already quite taking by a Midgardian woman. My youngest Loki, however, would be sure to prove as a good match for you, princess. He is clever, machiavellian, and canny. He was raised as king, and has the eagerness to be one. And much like you, he is sharp-witted and silver-tongued."

You had heard numerous stories of the youngest son of Odin, the God of Mischief. He had been somewhat of a trickster growing up, only to turn out betraying his brother. He had been the one to wage the attack on the Midgardens, and to kill Laufey. You had doubted he had truly been fit to rule. Perhaps, this was Odin's punishment, to doom Àlfheimr under his tyrant of a son. You doubted your father knew any of this, based on his prompt agreement to the proposal. It was your life this would permanently predetermine, your life that was being bound to a seemingly cruel man. But, you had no voice in the matter. You look up to met Frigga's eyes, at least you could find solace in her expression and disapproval. She too, had not been heard. You had now known the look in Frigga's eye, the mix between the worry of a mother and the anger of a woman.

_____

Loki wanted to laugh bitterly at Thor's visit, even more so as he saw through his illusions. It seemed now he had truly lost everything. His sanity, his dignity, his influence, and his chicanery. Overtaken by fits of rampage caused by his new founds pangs of consciousness, he felt himself slowly diverge into a state of craze. As he laid on the floor in his tattered garments, dirty and bloody. He could at least find sour solace in knowing chaos followed him even here, as he looked around at the ruins left of the objects that had once decorated the space. Regardless of how spiteful he felt at his current predicament, he seemed even more indignant at this new found urge for repentance that sinked its teeth deeper into him every passing moment.

"Now you see me, brother."

Thor looked at Loki with a solemnly expression, "I did not come here to bask in your self-pity, I came here to warn you of father."

Loki's temper seemed to spark once again, "He is not my father!"

Thor looked down at him in further disapproval, "Regardless, he shall come to you with a proposition soon enough, it will no doubt anger you."

Loki scoffed at him, "And why is it have you come to tell me of this great proposition."

Thor's face tone grew less firm as it now carried an almost undetectable hint of fondness, "Mother still believes in you, she fights for you. However, father will not yield in this matter. Ever since her first illusion, it has been made even more difficult for her to speak to you. Loki, she asks one thing, do not allow yourself to be overcome by wrath. She fears it will only lead you down a path of madness and savagery", Thor paused to look around the state of dungeon, "A fear that seems to be founded."

Loki did not need to hear this again, it is all that has been on his very being since they last spoke. It is what he had destroyed the room trying to rid himself of. This wrath that would not quell. Before Thor left he turned to face Loki once again once again.

"I had always thought you a trickster, but never a villain. Maybe it is now that I see you, brother."

_____

Loki could not tell how much time had passed since Thor left, frankly he had could not tell how much time he had spent in this place. It had already felt like eons. His mother's request was the new topic weighing on him. He felt like a small child throwing a tantrum over being put in time out. His thoughts were finally distracted for a moment, something he would welcome if it were not for the fact it was over the arrival of Odin. Judgment had lingered in every glance he gave around.

"I know Thor has told I have a proposition for you, but in truth the decision has already been made. You are to marry the crown princess of Álfheimr, and that will serve as a political union of our two people."

Loki had finally looked up to meet his father's gaze. He laughed in a way that could only come from despair and disbelief, "Of course, I was taken off of Jotunheim as a means for a political alliance. When that did not work, I had no use. Except, to be used for another political union I see."

Odin's face drew into a scowl, "You still sulk in your pity play when I have provided you an opportunity of which you are less than deserving. The only reason you are not dead is because of Frigga, now you will serve Asgard as it is your duty."

It was now Loki's turn to scowl, "Duty? What duty? I am not even Asgardian! Is that why you choose to marry me off? Not Thor? No, because you could not have the next hire of Asgard be anything but a pure born Asgardian, correct? Else they have no birthright to the throne."

Odin now yelled, "You will listen wisely, I took you in! I saved you, when it seems now I should have left you to die in cold. Now it is your duty to not only return that favor, but also serve your punishment."

"Saved me?! I was nothing to you! No, but another stolen alien object to be later used for leverage! You lied to me my entire life! Now you want to pawn me off."

"I had thought you would be more pleased, considering you are to be a king. Is that not all your selfish heart desires? You will slaughter for a crown, but not wed for one?"

At this point Loki was practically panting, in between the all the screaming and labored breaths. Finally, it had been made clear the source of all his anger. No, it had never been about being King of Asgard, or about having way to a throne. It was about being seen as an equal. The years he had spent drowning in Thor's shadow, desperate for an ounce of their father's approvals and affections that Thor had so easily basked in. Yet, he was only ever second best, never quite good enough for Odin. Only to discover the grim reality that he never was Odin's son, and that is why he was never given the same treatment. The acceptance he yearned to receive would never be his, because regardless of how he was raised, he would never really be an Asgardian in his father's eyes.

"At least allow me time and freedom around the castle to prepare. After all, i should look presentable for my new bride."

_____

When Frigga had approached you about meeting her for tea, of course you could not deny her. Not only was she the Allmother, the Queen of the planet you are currently visiting, and your soon to be mother in law; but there was something about her that was so inviting. It could be because your own mother had passed when you were young, so you were helplessly drawn to someone as motherly as her. She had long curls cascading down her back, inviting eyes, and a beautiful smile. Everything about her was so divinely feminine, it was almost magnetic. You had wondered if it was this that made even a fierce man such as Odin fall for her.

You did not know what to expect when coming to tea, but it was certainly not that you met your betrothed. You had imagined the first time you met Loki to be at the wedding ceremony. After all, it was common in political marriages to not met until the day of your holy union. Still you were slightly thankful to met him under this circumstance, it was much less intimidating. Away from the thousands of peering eyes, the weight of a ball gown, and the promise of matrimony. Rather you were under a gorgeous gold gazebo in a secluded garden area, with stunning Asgardian plants surrounding you, and a natural light glow peering through the trees. When you had looked at Loki, you found that he too was stunning. The art around the castle had not done him true justice, they could not fully depict the tempting nature that surrounded him, the one that possessed and pulled you in before you had a chance to even fight it. He had a certain effortless boyish charm that came with being so easy on the eyes; pretty face and silky hair. He certainly had the captivating appearance of a prince.

"I am sorry to have startled you, your Highness. I wanted to met you before the wedding, but did not have a means to approach you. So, I requested assistance from my mother. I hope you do not take this personally."

He even spoke like a royal, voice all velvety and melodious. Not that it shocked you. Ultimately he was brought up as a prince, regardless of his actions of Midgard, this is a fact that cannot be denied. So you had chosen to take the seat across from him.

"I see, well I had heard stories of your tricks. So I suppose this should have been expected."

He let out a polite and forced laugh, "My reputation proceeds me, your Highness. Please do accept my sincerest apologies, it was not my intention for you to feel tricked or fooled."

He smiled- no smirked at you in a winsome manner, but you refused to be taken in by it, "Tell me then what was your intention in bringing me here, if not to trick or fool."

"It is not a sin for a man to want to know the woman he is courting."

"No, but it is already determined we are to be wed. We have the rest of our times together to know each other afterwards."

Frankly, you did feel tricked into meeting him today. You felt as though you'd ventured into a battle ground unprepared, which was considerably worse when faced with an opponent so unpredictable. You also could not forget that he was dangerous, and had murdered many Midgardians. You would refuse to allow yourself to be fooled by him, or fully let your guard down.

He spoke up once again in passive tone, "I suppose so, but is it not better to go into marriage knowing we have at least exchanged words once before?"

This time he actually did give you more of a smile than a smirk, and it was much more appealing. But, it would not be enough to sway you. He stood up, and reached over to one of the many fetching Asgardian flowers.

"My mother will be here shortly, please do enjoy the teas and deserts I have laid out for you both. They are some of my mother's Asgardian favorites, I figured you may like to try them during your visit as well." He picked a flower that was at full bloom off of the branch delicately, "I come here at noon everyday to read, do with that what you will, my soon-to-be wife."

He smiled at you once again as he handed you the flower. You did not get a moment to speak before he had already seemed to vanish. He truly was as cunning as they say, and the ball was now in your court.

_____

You will admit, Loki had undoubtedly sparked your interest. That's probably why you had found yourself back in the garden again, inching towards that same golden gazebo. But, the moment you heard a soft familiar voice you froze.

"You could have waited the other day, you know."

Frigga had been pointed looking at Loki, but he kept his gaze diverted. Loki countered, "Waited when?"

"Why go through all the trouble of meeting for tea, and not even bothering to stay around long enough to enjoy it?"

Loki's gaze kept studying the patterns on the floor, even as he spoke "My bride was not exactly blushing to get to know me, you see."

Suddenly you felt stopped dead in place, this was a private conversation. You should not be here, this was bordering close on eavesdropping- no you were eavesdropping. This was wrong, but you could not help the morbid curiosity that had over taken you. It was not like you were trying to purposefully stalk their interactions, but they had mentioned you. You only had so much composure, and if it broke down a little because you were more desperate to know your fiancé's opinion of you than you realized, that was not your fault. Truly, you were being tempted far more than any reasonable person could resist

"Well with walls as high up as yours, would you ever let her know you?" Frigga's tone had been a a strange perfectly balanced mix of serious and teasing.

Loki hummed, "If she does not already know of what I've done, she will undoubtedly detest me when she does. If by some miracle that does not push her away, she will eventually see the truth."

Frigga's stare had bore into Loki deeply, "And what is that truth."

Loki did not reply, in fact he had not looked at her this entire time. Always keeping his gaze averted, alike a child keeping his head low when reprimand.

"Always so perceptive of everyone but yourself. My boy, you must look into yourself, and discover the source of these thoughts and feelings. Only then will you be able to distinguish the truth."

It was only now Loki had lifted his gaze to met his mother's eyes, and it was only now that you saw something so raw. There were no lies or shields, his eyes were purely pools of hundreds of emotions. Loki had truly looked like the youngest son now, he had the expression of a young boy as he turned to his mother for guidance.

She simply smiled, "You could trick everyone in all the nine realms, except your mother. I see you for what you truly are, my son."

Loki scoffed, and turned away, "A brute who only thinks for himself, and causes anguish for others."

Frigga had lifted a hand to hold Loki's face. She turned his head towards her, and stroked his cheek in calming manner. She still held that same soft smile and mellow voice, "Monsters do not feel self-condemnation, my little chiseler. You can con every other being into believing you're heartless, but I know differently. I know my son."

Loki laughed, but it was not completely joyful. He put his hand over Frigga's, "You are blinded by love, mother."

Frigga hummed in response, "Is that not just proof there is something worth loving."

She moved so he could take Loki's hands into her own, and for the first time you saw Loki smile. Not some kind of smirk, but an actual smile. It was not aimed to dupe or mislead, but came naturally with no hidden agenda. Now he seemed completely different from the man you had met, or the man you had heard about. He did not give the impression of a swindler, but of a man fighting self discovery.

"Loki, I still believe there is a light within you. I see it in your eyes. I am here for you, please do not allow for your anger and hurt to overshadow it." Frigga had suddenly glanced at you, although it was a split second, you had realized she was aware of your presences the whole time. You could see where he got his teasing smile from, as you saw Frigga now dawn it. She looked back at Loki, "Besides, I feel you have more supporters than you give yourself credit for."

You hurriedly left before Loki's confused looks could find you lurking.

_____

You were scouring the shelves of the royal library, when the possibly most embarrassing moment of your life had occurred. Like some kind of circus clown, you had actually fallen off the ladder. Before you could even react, you felt yourself gently slowed onto the floor. A faint laugh coming from behind you.

"I have not had to use that spell since Loki was a young child, much too eager to read books beyond his years."

Frigga stood above you, a hand out stretched to lift you up. You gave her a bashful smile, as she helped you up.

"Thank you for your heroic rescue, your Majesty. I was not aware you could use magic."

"Yes well, it's always good to have an ace or two up your sleeve."

She had winked at you as she mused.

"You use magic too, I could sense you earlier."

By earlier, you knew she had meant in the garden. Immediately you had felt yourself flush, your cheeks surely breaking out into a blush. You felt the same you did when you were younger, and being caught by the castle chef eating dessert before dinner. You bowed your head.

"Please forgive me, it truly was not my intention to overhear such a private conversation. I had no idea that you would be there. I hope you do not take any offense."

"You do not need to bow, fear not I was never angry to begin with. I, too, would be a little nosy if I saw my espoused and his mother discussing me. Especially, if i did not know him well."

You felt relieved, even if the embarrassment had not completely subsided.

"So, I take it Loki learned his sorcery from you then?"

Frigga beamed nostalgically as she spoke, "Yes. You see Thor and Odin are much a like in the fact that they both take up so much of the attention. I knew it was difficult for Loki to bask in their large shadows. So, I had hoped this would give him his own sun." She paused for a moment, to giggle before she continued, "He was constantly so fascinated by my abilities, even the smallest things. When he was just toddler, still waddling more so than walking, he would watch in awe in awe as I conjured little fireworks. Even as an infant, to whisk a little light around my finger was always the most effective way to stop his tears."

It was clear to you, how much Frigga cherished her son. The way she spoke, compelled you to find joy in the memories with her, despite obviously never having been there. She turned to you.

"I know what you have likely heard, and I know being forced into this marriage is not ideal for you. I ask you to please form your own opinions of Loki. Do not let others, even I, sway you. Loki is more like his father than he would care to admit. He is cold, and sometimes downright cruel. In my experience, I find that usually it comes from fighting a deeper battle. He will most definitely push you away, but I truly think it worth trying to break through. At least then, you will know you have tried to get to know authentic Loki. Not the facade he parades around."

She had grasped your hands, in the similar manner you had seen her hold Loki's in the garden. Her eyes carried such a genuine plea.

"I can assure you of one thing, I do not care what others think. I always planned to test him in my own methods, now more so than ever; considering he is to be my husband."

She grinned at you, "You too carry a little mischief, your Highness."

You tried to think of a reply, but she had already dropped your hands and bid you a goodnight before you could come up with anything worth saying.

_____

Loki had been mildly amused when you did, in fact, show up at the garden like he had hinted. Although, he could not say he was completely shocked considering you appeared to be more sharp than given credit for. Last time, he could almost see the gears turning in your head as you analyzed him and the situation. You kept a keen eye on him the entire time, and whereas he tried to charm you, your responses stayed monotonous with the slightest undertone of a bite behind them. What had him more curious was the pile of books you carried towards him. He almost let out a laugh at how cartoonish it looked, watching you waddle over while heaps of novels looked just about ready to topple over. He put his own book down, one of the ones Frigga had sent him while he was in prison, now that he had actually been able to concentrate on the plot he realized it was quite boring. Long winded stories of karmic punishments, it was not lost on him that this was most likely the reason she had chosen to send this book. At this moment though, you were much more interesting object to study than this book.

"Need a hand with those, your Highness?" He joked. He had not waited for your answer, instead waltzing over to take a portion of the large stack to place down onto the table. You placed the other stack down, and looked up at him. You looked much more interesting now, huffing a little from making the journey over with the large pile of books. You breathed out a small thanks still.

He flashed you cheshire cat smile, "It is truly no problem, didn't even break a sweat." He stared down at the mounds of books, and continued joking further, "I know I said I enjoy to read here, but I was not expecting you to bring this many novels. Is my presence not enough to keep you entertained, your Highness."

You had given him a blank stare, "Oh, you are more mirthful than all the court jesters I have witnessed."

Although, your expression was stern, the teasing tone had let him know to laugh. He decided to tease back, "If you find me so rollicking, then why bother with all the books? I cannot help but wonder."

He had given you a fake pout, the ghost of a smile gracing your lips, but you refused to be so open just yet. "It is time for you to go back to prep school, I do hope you enjoy homework." He quirked his eyebrow, as if urging you to continue. "If you are to rule by my side, you must know about Álfheimr. So I gathered all the books I could find in the Asgardian royal library."

"I see, I have been assigned mandatory reading again. I truly do feel like a schoolboy once more. Albeit, my teachers were never as eye catching as you."

He gave you a flirty wink, but you would not fall for it. You gave him an intent look, "I am unsure if you are used to flattering your way out of course work, but this time it will not work." You had picked up one of the books, and tilted it towards his chest.

He took it from you with that same catty bearing, "Do not fear, I was raised an honest student. Besides as I have already said none of my teachers were so alluring that I had attempted to trifle with them before. Though, it also would have been completely inappropriate."

You shift towards him with a questioning air, "And yet now you deem it appropriate?"

He had inched closer to you, "I assume it normal for a partner to make romantic plays at their fiancée. Predominately, when they find them to be so fetching."

You had now dropped whatever taunting had been left in your tone, "Nothing about us is normal. I will not be swayed by mere sweet talking. This arrogant philanderer persona you have put on does little to attract or repel me. I will be back at the end of this week to discuss whichever of the books you have read, and answer any questions you may have. I will also have in more precise maps, and records brought in from home."

Loki's grin seemed to drop, and his voice too turned ridged, "I understand. I will work to hopefully surpass your expectations, your Highness."

You had given each other a last pointed look, the evaluation of one another had fully began. However, Loki broke out into another grin.

"So do you prefer giving tests, or would an essay be more to your taste?"

_____

"Should have known I would find you reading."

Loki was suddenly startled out of his concentration, as he lifted his head out of the Álfheimr history book he had been reading. Frigga was standing near him with a plate of food.

"In spite of all the centuries that have passed, you still manage to skip dinner in favor of reading. Although, this many books seems excessive; even for you."

Loki gave his mother a grateful nod as he takes the plate from her hands, he truly had been so caught up with educating himself that he did not notice how time had blown past him.

"The crown princess had dropped them all off earlier. I suspect that if I am to be by her side I must demonstrate that I am useful. I appear to have gotten too wrapped up in educating myself."

Frigga gave him a knowing smile, "You were always a studious one, so hunger to prove yourself in anyway you could. It something I had endlessly admired about you, that you consistently pushed yourself to learn and excel in all ways you could." She bushed a hand soothingly through Loki's hair as she spoke, "At some point, though, I had worried that it would turn darker. That one day, your appetite would drive you down a despairing path, so I tried to foster that feeling towards meritorious adventures in our lessons together."

Frigga's hand stilled as she went silent for a moment, but before Loki could reply she continued, "Your father and Thor thought me foolish for having hope in you still. They had thought you were already too far gone in a venomous journey." She took a moment to glance over all the books scattered around, "Yet, I see you turning back to the way of the noble. The way I had known you to be."

Loki had felt this coming since he first spoke to his mother's projection in that cell. Now more than ever though, he had felt that hallowing in his chest intensify. He could not stand to break Frigga's heart anymore, not when she had still been the one person to have so much faith in him. He must not only fulfill his duties, but do so proficiently. No, he needed to be a better a man, if not for himself than for his mother. He would not sham his way out of this, he would not let himself disappoint her this time.

"Thank you, mother."

She smiled softly as her hands grazed over one of the books, "You're welcome. After all you seem to be heading to a land of light. Perhaps. one day you can thank me by allowing me to visit you there."

_____

As you had promised, you'd returned later that week with another heap of learning material for Loki. This one, however, was smaller than the last.

"Princess, perfect timing. I had finished the last of the books yesterday night."

You had dropped everything onto the table with a small thump, and for a second a sense of shock overtook you.

"You finished all the books?"

He nodded pridefully, "Every single one, I must say I was not aware the light elves were so specialized in harvests and healing. I also had no idea you had already established connections to the Vanir gods."

You were honestly surprised that Loki had read all the books. Normally, someone would just skim through one or two. Given Loki's under handing history, you had expected him to do the same. Suddenly, you felt a small sense of shame for being so quick to assume and judge. It was multiplied when you had recalled your conversation with Frigga, you had promised to make your own mind up about Loki. Speaking of which he had picked up one of the books, and opened it up to a specific herb.

He has spoken in almost an enthusiastic tone at the discovery, "I mean, we have nothing like this in Asgard. Once the political alliance is set, we should really consider setting up more trade deals. It would also greatly boost Álfheimr, since they would be gaining more money to reinvest back into the economy through increased sales."

You had turned to him almost skeptically, "Did talk Frigga about that?"

Loki had turned back towards you with confusion, "Mother? No. What would she have to do with this?"

He had said it with such conviction, you had chosen to believe he truly did not. So, you sighed out, "That had been my exact proposal when I had first come to Asgard, and Frigga seemed to be the only one who agreed with me."

His gaze had now felt like it bore into you, "You had not originally come to Asgard for a political alliance?"

You shifted away dolefully, "No, simply a trade one."

That hallowing feeling in Loki's chest returned. He had genuinely felt sorry for you. It was not uncommon for realms to seek out advantageous connection for the next in line. He had assumed at the very least you had been seeking a marriage, and had just been unlucky to end up with him. It had felt much worse knowing you did not even want to wed either. But he pushed those feelings down before he could give them much thought. Because the more he considered them, the more he wanted to throw something out of frustration. He had felt more sorrow and empathy in his month of return than his entire lifetime. He did not know why this was happening, considering he had been born a beast. No amount of compunction could change that he was a vermin.

There air suddenly felt a little heavier, so you tried to joke, "Do not fret, I have no need your pity."

Luckily, Loki had played along, "I have no pity, you should consider yourself so blessed to be my betrothed."

You had rolled your eyes as sarcasm had taken over, "Careful if you are any more humble some might think you have chosen to become a virtuous monk."

He fiend offended, "Oh don't go sounding so happy princess, all your better suitors might think you actually enjoy being around me."

You scoffed, "Finally being left alone by men on the marriage mart might be the good thing about this engagement."

Loki seemed to find your answering entertain, "I take it no knights in shining armor have sparked your fancy?"

Your nose scrunched at the insinuation, "No. I'm not a damsel in distress."

"Truly tragic, how am I meant to woo you if you're not in need of saving? Guess you shall hate me for the rest of our days."

"I do not hate you, more so tolerate you. At the very least you are aware you have a brain, and make an effort to use it unlike some people."

Loki's signature grin overtook his face, and he leaned towards you, "Oh what's that? I think it almost sounded like a compliment."

You shoved him away, "Your ego is far too high for your own good."

He put a hand over his chest, "You wound me truly, and here I thought we were getting so close."

You held out a rolled up map towards him, "There is still much for you to learn."

____

The first thing that struck Thor as off was the manor at which Loki conducted himself at the dinner table. Rather than gloat the moment he was freed from his cell, Loki had not even shown up. Which was strange since given his brother's nature one would expect a prideful monologue about his ability to always come back. A complaint about how unjust his punishment was, while taking a jab at their father's own bloody past. Instead when Loki did show up, he was silent. It was almost as though he was a mere ghost passing through the room, and the only person he had not phased through was their mother. Thor had thought he would surely parade around the castle in his new found freedom, raining some kind of new havoc that would be just enough to cause a stir, but not enough to actually get him in any sort of trouble. Yet, he stayed completely out of sight lurking Norns know where. Honestly, at some points Thor had forgotten Loki had been freed of his cell all together.

Furthermore, Loki had yet to try arguing his way out his engagement. When Loki showed up to dinner, Thor had already braced himself for a screaming match between Loki and their father. Nothing ever came though. He had not even attempted to slither his way off of Asgard, or out of the marriage. In fact, last Thor saw of him, he was reading a book on Álfheimr. Normally, Thor would have chalked it up to the fact Loki had finally had an opportunity to the throne, but paired with the recent change in demeanor; he had known something deeper was going on. Now more than ever, Loki seemed to lean on their mother. Although, out of the two Loki had always been more of the mama's boy, he had actually been asking for advice rather than just helping develop his magic.

As he was taking his walk down to the training grounds, he had heard Loki's voice coming from the Library. Overtaken by curiosity he peered in to find you and Loki leaning over a map with various different books and stationary scattered around. Loki picked up a marker and drew a line across a section of the map, "If we build this new route through here, it will connect this outer village to the main city. The farmers will be able to better sell their produce for profit there."

You shook your head disapprovingly to his proposal picking up another marker to circle a section of the map, "This would prove to be problematic, although we would only be grazing by the edge of the forest the species that inhabit it are unpredictable. It would be best to find another way to avoid it all together."

Thor winced on your behalf, already awaiting his brother's rebuttals. Loki never did take kindly to others shooting down his ideas. Much to his dismay, Loki simply smiled and nodded "Very well, you're the expert here. I will look into Álfheimr's species, and see if there are ways to work around it."

Thor blinked for a moment, still not fully comprehending the sight. That is when he found Loki coming towards the door, only to see his brother's smile drop.

"Thor, to whatever do I owe the pleasure?"

Thor stared at him for a moment, completely dumbfounded at his quick change in demeanor. "I had been simply passing by when I heard your voice, it has been awhile since we last spoke."

Loki had seen you eyeing the two bothers curiously out of the corner of his sight. He put his hand on Thor's shoulder, and lead him away. Once they were a safe distance away from the library, they came to a halt.

Loki spoke with disinterest, "What is it you care to discuss?"

Thor looked confused, "You lead us away? To converse? Why?"

Loki looked bluntly back at him, "You're not an idiot you know why."

Thor had an idea, but he hesitated. "could it be the princess?" Loki just continued to stare at him as though it was obvious, and Thor was almost in disbelief. "You have never filtered yourself around anyone! You've always said such harsh and brass things without a care! You mean to make me believe you lead me out here, so the princess would not hear?"

Loki's tone bite back, "Excuse me for wanting to be cautious how my soon to be wife views me. I do have to spent the rest of my life with her you see."

Thor furrowed his brows, "You have changed."

Loki peered up now slightly agitated, "What?"

"You have become, I don't know, different. You are not picking arguments, not playing tricks, you... you admitted when someone else was right?!"

"Is this not what you and Odin wanted from me?! Nothing I ever do is good enough! Even when I follow what is asked of me, you still make a fuss about it!"

Thor's tone softened a bit, "I do not mean it in a negative way, change is not always horrid. I simply am taken aback by your recent behavior, I mean you would have opposed this marriage mere months ago."

Loki was able to better compose his nerves now that he didn't feel attacked. He could not disagree with Thor there, if this engagement had happened prior Loki would be livid. He cleared his throat, as he spoke trying to keep a monotone voice, "I made a promise to mother. I am not doing this for you or Odin. She's the only person who truly stands by me this entire time; I will not risk destroying that. I cannot- will not allow myself to fail, and break her heart once more."

This was the most honesty Thor had ever heard from the God of Lies. He knew Loki had been truthful, because their mother was one of the few things Loki held close to his heart. It was perhaps the only redline he was not willing to cross, lying on their mother's name. He had felt like he could see a glimpse of what kept their mother hoping for Loki's redemption. He patted Loki on the shoulder, "I dare admit I may have been too harsh in judgment, I can see the hope for good mother saw in you now. Continue on, and you are on the path to being a good man, brother."

As Thor walked off Loki stared into the distance, a good man? Perhaps everyone in this palace has lost their minds.

_____

Loki had not clearly not noticed you still in the library when he came in a huff slamming the door behind you. You found it rather amusing the way his face pulled into a scowl.

You tried not to laugh, "My, someone's mood has turned rather sour."

Loki's head quickly turned towards you, as he tried to compose himself. He felt the small sting of embarrassment being caught in such a stir. "My apologies, I had not realized you were still in here."

You tried to suppress your amusement, but you could not resist the urge to poke a little fun at him, "Clearly. What's got you in such a fuss? Brothers' quarrel?"

Loki let out a frustrated sigh, "It's not that. Thor was just being, I don't know, entirely ridiculous. Truly! I cannot help but wonder if all that time on the training ground has caused him head damage. We should get the royal physician to check, really.

You hummed, "Perhaps, sometime on the training ground is what you need."

Loki let out a dry laugh, "Oh? Maybe if I had head damage too, I would finally be able to get what my brother was harping on about."

You tried to suppress a laugh since it would be quite rude, but it still managed to slip out, "No. I had meant that maybe it would help you blow off some steam."

Loki nodded, "I suppose that would be the more reasonable suggestion."

You grinned back, "Although, I must admit I am rather selfish. I had hoped to see Asgardian magic in action."

"Unfortunately for you, none of the soldiers can use combat magic."

"So only you can use it?"

"Yes, much to your disappointment I assume."

Except, you did not seem disappointed. Instead you had a look of mischief in your eyes, one that Loki recognized very well as a sign of no good. After all, he would know better than anyone else. You smiled, "Spar with me."

Loki's scowl had returned, "You know surely I cannot do that. You are the crown princess of Álfheimr!"

You had tensed as you frowned, "You will not fight me because of my gender? Do you assume because I am princess I cannot hold my own in combat."

Loki rolled his eyes, "I care not what your gender is, you are a royal guest of Asgard!"

You relaxed a little, "You will not fight me because of my standing?"

Loki gave you an obvious look, "Of course not! It would be dishonorable of me to do that to a guest."

Your mischievous smile had return, "As a royal guest of Asgard, I demand you spar with me."

Loki glared at you in disbelief, "Surely, you cannot be serious!"

You kept smiling, "Oh I am incredibly serious. In fact, I will consider it a great disrespect to my status for you to go against my command."

"You're using your status against me?!"

"Yes, well you had just used it against me as well."

"Princess, you cannot be serious. I mean-"

"I will be waiting by the private training grounds at 8 am."

You had swiftly made your way out the door, ignoring Loki's calls and protests. Tomorrow would be an interesting morning indeed.

_____

However you had thought the morning was going to go, it was not this. After Loki had reluctantly agreed to fight you, he proved to be a much more serious opponent than you anticipated. Apparently, if he was going to be coerced into this sparring match, he was not going to take it lightly. It had gone on for what felt like forever, due to all his illusions. Although, they did not stand a chance against your light magic, which was able to help identify the true Loki, but they were energy consuming to fight nonetheless. Every time you had managed to capture him for a split moment, he would swiftly slip out. With every attempt it seemed he grow more guarded, and with those daggers of his, it became almost impossible to get into a close combat zone. When you had finally had the opportunity, you had tried to use light magic against the wrist you were holding. You did not foresee that this would end horribly, as you looked down to Loki's face. His lips tightened, and his breath seized as he let out a low concealed noise of pain. You had then turned your attention back to his wrist to find the area had been burned, and the surrounding skin took a pale blue. Loki's eyes followed yours, and widened once they met the sight. He had the same expression as a deer caught in head lights, but rather than stay in place, he left as fast as he could. You were given no excuse, and you stood there mind riddled with worry, but one pressing question on your mind. He should not have been badly burned by the attack, considering he is an Asgardian. No, in order for it to be that painful he would have to be sensitive to the cold. It was as though, everything had clicked in that moment. His strained relationship with Odin, why the Odin married him off so easily, the conversation you overheard in the garden, it had all added together. You had began to move without even thinking about, you just knew one thing; you had to find Loki.

_____

Loki was about to snap at whoever had the audacity to step into his private chambers, he was not expecting it would be you.

"What are you doing here?"

You looked down at his arm, "That's quite a nasty burn, I'm sorry."

You had reached out to grab it, but he flinched away. You had still grabbed it, using your healing magic on the burn. He starred at you in shock, "What are you doing? Surely, by now you must've realized."

You seemed unimpressed, "That you're a Jotun? Yes, well that is a pretty shade of blue. Shame it burns so easily."

He took in a sharp breath, "You... why aren't you running away? I'm a monster! You know that!"

"Having blue skin, and red eyes doesn't exactly automatically make you a monster."

He pressed his lips into a thin line, "I've murdered serval Midgardains, and my own birth father."

You stilled for a moment as you stared deeply into his eyes, "Do you regret it?"

He was silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. That was all you needed to know, and you continued, "A real monster would not regret it."

He pulled back, "You just don't fully understand it."

Your brows furrowed together, "I cannot begin to understand if you do not permit me to do so."

"Perhaps, it is better that way. Perhaps, I do not wish for you to understand!"

"Why? So you could stay forever distain from me? Do you really think I am so vile?!"

"No, because you would think me vile!"

Both of stood in place unable to move from

the weight of the conversation. You had never known silence could be as loud as it is now. Loki broke it after a moment, sounding and seeming utterly defeated, "If you understand what I truly am, you will undoubtedly be as revolted as the rest."

Your tone had carried an almost offended undertone, "Do you think so low of me? If I had thought was the rest have, I would have never approached you as I did. Loki I do not think you as even disagreeable, let alone revolting."

He scoffed, "You should, to think of me in any other manor will only disappoint me. As it has my mother and brother."

Your tone soften now, losing its sharp edge, "Yet they still love you. They come back every time. They something in you, that makes it worth forgiving. That cannot be without reason, please allow me the chance to glimpse at what they see in you."

He ran a hand through his hair, "You infuriate me!"

You had suddenly grown sharper again, "I infuriate you?!"

"Yes! You are utterly maddening!"

"You're the one who is maddening! Pushing me away when I am just trying to understand you! To maybe, just maybe try to grow to love someone who's supposed to be my future husband!"

"That is impossible because I no longer even understand myself!"

Loki had entirely dropped. His shoulders fell, his face turned downward, it seemed like his body collapsed in on itself. Like it took the last of all his strength to remain standing. His voice was nothing but completely tired, "You... you unravel me. You leave me completely bare, my core exposed to you. No matter how much I try to lie, fool, distract, you're completely immune. I cannot trick you, I have to be honest. It makes me feel so vulnerable. On top of it, my nature does not push you away, regardless of how much it should."

He had looked up at you with the most exposed look on his face, "Why haven't you left? Why don't I want you to leave? Why do you hold my thoughts captive? Why do you make me want to try to be an honest man?"

You had moved to place your hand on his face, now mere inches from him. "I do not know, but we can figure it out together. Just let me in."

He didn't speak any words, and for a moment you had thought he would push you away once more. Instead, he had leaned in. Softly placing his lips on yours. An unspoken promise to try.

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