#and yes it is ELF dust

[thelien-art]

Makalaurë and Elrond & Elros

Maglor finds Elrond and Elros in my fic which can be found here

And there in the arched doorway to the stairs, an elf stood. ~ With his black hair braided back, he stood in a simple dust blue embroidered under tunic, accompanied by a thin loosely tied linen sash ~ Yes, that was Maglor. - Chapter 3

[fanaticsnail]

Pretty Bird - Part 2

Masterlist here

Word count: 2,065 Part 1

Synopsis: you nursed back to health and injured raven that was found in the canopy of your cottage. The raven was a shifted Avariel fae, a creature of myth and legend, and the new lord of Kuraigana. He is extremely smitten with you, and doesn't know the adequate customs to court you. All he knows and feels is you are his mate, and he wants you.

Themes: fae!Mihawk x human!reader, raven!Mihawk x f!reader (can be read as gn, no gendered terms used).

Notes: prompts based on this ask by 🪶 Anon. Header picture made by me using OPLA's Yoru and doctored stock images. We're leaning in on a bit of hybrid au stuff. Mihawk is a winged, elf-like creature that can shift into a raven and human form - but he is most comfortable being a winged humanoid with dark feathers and talon-like fingernails.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

It wasn't quite the grandiose hallways and intricate ornamentation you had experienced once upon long ago. The high keep was, for all other words considered, gloomy. The light was dull, the curtains barely parted, and the lengthy leading carpet had begun to fray at the edges from ill-maintenance and neglect over the years.

The single room in the entire manor that caused your heart to flutter was the one you had reminisced with your pretty bird at your inherited cottage. The gallery was in full bloom, the curtains clipped and dusted with a place for everything, and everything in its place.

A large amassment of individuals were wandering and chattering within the halls, eyeglasses drawn up their faces and assessing the finery with criticism in their snarls. The group which were invited to the grand premier of the reopening were some that you had not seen prior, and many local dignitaries you had dealings with in your cottage.

You assumed you were here as a civilian observer, like some of the others, to give the new lord of Kuraigana a reputation of hospitality and humility. Truth be told, you did not care you were to be used as a ruse. All that seemed to matter was finding that one painting you recounted from the days of your youth.

Spotting a long since forgotten painting of your childhood, you felt the wonderment warm and swell in your chest as soon as you laid eyes on it. Your land, your hometown, a field of wildflowers shrouding your familial home with two figures sitting on a hanging swing off on a hollowed willow tree. The figure on the swing was looking up, just as a winged creature with a humanoid face was smiling down.

This was the picture you imagined when you spoke with the wounded raven in your cottage. There was something in the way the two subjects looked at each other, their hearts swelling in their eyes, as joy was depicted on their lips. Two creatures from different worlds just as captivated with the other as the other was with them.

As you leaned in closer to the image, you felt a presence behind you with their dark shadow cascading your form with their silhouette.

“Do you enjoy this one, then?” their vocal cadence was difficult to read, but their presence felt intimidating. You turned to face the figure, and curtseyed low to them with your eyes fallen to the ground.

“This painting holds meaning for me, yes, sir,” you rise from your curtsey, keeping your gaze held firmly to their dark, leather boots as you rose back to full stature. They stepped forward in a single stride, puncturing your border of personal comfort and towering over you.

“Can you explain it to me, so as to grant me a greater understanding of such a piece?” their voice purred down at you. The scent of their cologne felt familiar to you, as did the subtle pattern in their flowing cloak over their shoulders.

Softly floating your gaze to their features, you hovered over their unique, angular facial hair and bit back your nerves.

“The prior lord of this house was known for his admiration and appreciation for the fae-folk,” you spoke, attempting to maintain your calm demeanor while feeling intimidated by the man towering over you, “Many seem to enjoy the fables and tales of old. Hearing the joy of a world far from our own, whether written on written paper or depicted on canvas, is an accessible binding that draws people of all creed and color together.”

You float your eyes up to meet his, the amber hue of his gaze piercing you like a blade and seeming to goad you into speaking more on the subject.

“And the fae?” his challenging tone almost made you recoil, but you held your ground and attempted to avoid his gaze as he spoke down his nose at you, “Do they not frighten you?”

“Truth be told, sir,” you quickly bobbed a polite curtsey as you continued, “I feel I do not have enough experience on the matter to fear them.” You turn back to the painting, focussing on the gaze of the young Avariel beaming down at their human counterpart on the swing, “I appreciate them from afar, but I am yet to truly meet one.” The man hums in deep thought, slowly turning their own attention back to the painting while sitting in silence beside you.

After several moments of studying the painting, you turn to your guest and curtsey once more to the individual with a shy smile tugging at your lips.

“I fear it's getting rather late for me, sir. I best be getting home and tending to my homestead,” you nod to the sun beginning to fall behind the swirling landscape of curling mountains, “It is a lengthy trek home.”

“You arrived here on foot?” his voice seemed to be taken aback, “Do you not have horses, or some mule to pull a carriage? A cart with two goats, a saddle for a swine-?” You broke his train of thought with a soft, melodical giggle. He halted his words, listening to your laugh and slowly offering his own alongside it.

“Forgive me, sir,” you stifle your soft laugh, slowly biting back any further humor in your tone, “Some of us more common people can not afford the luxury to own such things. This is the furthest I've ventured of late, and I do wish to make it back before nightfall.”

Before you had the opportunity to flee from his sights, he swooped down and claimed your arm in the crook of his left elbow and held you there while slowly whispering down at you.

“You will allow me to escort you from the gallery and towards the door,” he was firm in his tone, but his poised elegance seemed to put you at ease. As he began to take a step to walk with you, he froze in place as you spoke to him.

“I feel like there should be a ‘please’ in there somewhere,” you offer him a nervous giggle and gently nod your head to him, “I don't think you have a right to lord over me like some cruel tyrant, sir…?” you trailed off, attempting to meet his gaze.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, a look that seemed somewhat familiar to you, but foreign atop his features. His amber eyes seemed to hold a challenge within them as the corner of his lip ticked up.

“Lord Dracule Mihawk,” he offered you freely, raising his right hand to circle over your knuckles clasping his left elbow, “And, would you please allow me to escort you from the gallery towards the door?”

Something between a squeak and a gasp caught itself within your throat as you failed to find the words to respond to him with. The man at your side was the mysterious host you were curious about, and you had been conversing with him so openly you didn't spare a thought as to whom he was.

As he lead you silently through the quiet halls towards the door, he gently coaxed you through the threshold and gracefully spun you to face him within the archway. He stooped down towards you, and gently reached up to preen at a fallen strand of your hair to tuck it behind your ear.

“Should you need to borrow a horse, I would gladly provide you with one from my stables,” he uttered, gently caressing the crown of your head and scanning over your features without meeting your eyes. “I have a few to choose from, alongside a personal carriage or cart should you ever need one.” He finally met your eyes, looking down at you as your gaze was intense with eyes wide and in shock.

The lord of Kuraigana was shuffling your hair with such familiarity, it immediately drew up and rose every alarm in your mind. Why was he doing this? What motivation would he have to press his hands into you, and toy with you in such a way? You were a commoner amongst a den of lords and ladies, why you?

“I have no formal training in cart rearing, my lord,” you nodded your head to bob your hair from his clutches, “Nor do I desire to have you part with a horse on my behalf.” Stepping away, his hand hovers where contact was priorly met against your skin and hair. “Thank you for your hospitality, this is where I take my leave from you, my lord.”

Bowing in a low curtsey, you chose to walk from him without waiting a further dismissal from him due to the fluster his intimidating aura rose to you. As soon as you were out of sight, you breathed out a sigh of relief and gazed up into the first light of purple stars greeting the pastel purples and pinks over Kuraigana.

“I am such a fool.”

Both yours and Mihawk’s lips shared the same sentiment, feeling truly imbicilic in the interaction you had with one another not moments ago. For you, your embarrassment came from speaking so freely about childhood fantasies to the man who lords over you. For Mihawk, it was another aspect entirely.

“My mate hates me,” he whispered to the walls of his keep, “My mate fears me and recoils from my touch.” He gazed down at his hands, witnessing the first release of talons protruding from his fingertips in response to holding a human-passing form for so long.

As soon as he left your cottage once he was healed, he was attempting to find a way to welcome you into his home. While he understood that humans have kindness for one another in times of need, and compassion for injured animals, at the first offence of aid from you in his raven form, he knew it was you. You were his, and he was yours.

He needed you, craved you to know how desperately he wanted you in his high keep. The understanding on the intricacies of human clourtships was sadly lacking in his regard, but he knew he needed to try to win you over.

If you were an avarial, a changeling, or a shifter of the fae folk like he was, he knew he could express his desires and make his wanting known by preening and grooming you. He would nest for you, fill it with your scent matched with his, and welcome you into it while nestled against one another. Should he wish to make the match permanent, which he considered the notion the moment you began to converse with him as a man, he would dance for you to showcase his skills as a reveered fighter and exceptional provider.

Witnessing the fluster on your face at the moment he attempted to groom you left him feeling deflated and dejected. The rejection of his mate, the one he sorely wanted for himself, had him frustrated and desiring to know if you truly were rejecting him, or if this was an action lost in the courtship discorse of fae folk and humans.

He would never be able to get close to you as the lord of Kuraigana, your lord and ruler over your land. He would absolutely not desire for you to see him in his radiant glory, as half-shifted into his more comfortable form as a winged humanoid. He was assured you would turn from him in fear.

But as a raven? You liked him as a raven. You praised him as a raven. You scratched his chin, offered him meat, and spoke to him as a raven. He could listen to you as a raven. As your raven: your pretty bird.

Giving his shoulders a gentle shimmy, his cloak sprung to life and revealed his darkened wings as his form began to shrink into his smaller avarian form. The golden hue of his watchful eyes remained as intense as they searched for you on the pathway leading to your cottage.

He needed to know. Were you interested in such a courtship with a beast like him, or were you simply one of the kinder varieties of mortals? He shook his wings to take flight, his intense gaze was fixed on your form as the soft sunset became a gentle dusk and faded into a blue, cloudless night.

[sebbianas]

At the start of his 6th year, Regulus stood alone in front of the train.

He watched parents and children have tearful goodbye, watched friends greet each other with hugs and cheerful wave, watched the whole place be filled with love and there he was alone.

The wise thing to do is to get in the train and take compartment for himself but he stood there stuck. His parents thought he was old enough to be on his own, not even Kreacher could accompany him. He sure would miss the little elf more than he would his parents.

Regulus gripped his trunk tighter, his knuckles almost turning white because of it. He didn’t want this loneliness to accompany him into the train, didnt want the coldness of his heart to travel with him to Hogwarts. He’s not even sure why he craved a warmth his parents would never give. What the point of longing for something you’ll never have?

“Train’s about to leave, dear!” A voice cut through his dark aura. “Best to get in before you lose any good sit.”

Regulus looked to his side and froze. Standing to his left was none other than Euphemia Potter and her husband Fleamont. The warmth that radiated from them almost burned Regulus but he didn’t mind one bit, if to feel this love is to burn then he would gladly turn into ashes. He looked around to see if his brother and the son of the wonderful couple was nearby—

“Don’t worry about the boys.” Fleamont said suddenly. “They boarded the train as soon as they saw Remus and Peter.”

“Oh.” Was all Regulus could say. He’s not sure if he’s permitted to say more.

“Now,” Effie said, breaking the ice cold silence. She dusted his shoulders off, straightened his coat, brushed her warm fingers against his cold cheeks. “You look very handsome, dear. Try not to be closed off this school year. Make sure you have some fun, alright?”

“—Not too much fun though!” Monty added quickly. “But then again, you have always been more careful than your brother so I have no doubt you wont get caught should you have too much fun—”

“Dont you forget to eat! I know you and your tendency to get lost in that book of yours so do remember to put the book down once in a while and nibble on some sweets, yes?” Effie continued on.

Regulus couldn’t do anything but nod. He was afraid of what might happen should he open his mouth, tears falling down controllably was definitely one of the scenarios.

“Good.” Effie said, a brilliant beautiful smile on his face. “Off you go, my darling. Have a good school year.”

Regulus nodded once more. He was tempted to drop his belongings and pull the wonderful parents into a hug but he knows that would be too much. He simply smiled at them, a small once, one he doesn’t direct at anyone that much, and walked to the train. Before getting inside he looks back and sees them still smiling and waving at him.

A warmth in his heart resided and refused to leave throughout the whole ride.

[faeriichaii]

Hi! I was wondering if you could please write a legolas fix where he has a crush on f!reader!. But here's the thing, she's arwen sister and both arwen and aragorn try to match them both together and at the end they get to confess and all! I had this idea tysm<33

Sunkissed ~ Legolas x F!Elf!Reader

A/N: oh how I missed Legolas <3 I haven’t written anything for him in such a long time that I am so so happy to do a request for him again <3 tbh I think it is so easy for me to write him? Cause idk I picture him like the perfect romance guy?? And idk I always get so soft writing for him haha but omg I hope you enjoy the story!! <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 2.0k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Le I velethril e-guil nîn ~ You are the Love of my Life ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Le Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ

Summary: You have been in love with the elven prince since quite a time, but never told him about it. Your sister Arwen however, is determined to change the course of your relationship with Legolas.

The light of the setting sun enveloped the room in a warm orange hue, a perfect start for the upcoming celebration of the night. Aragorn, as well as the rest of the company, arrived in Rivendell a few days ago. However, due to their immense exhaustion, the festivities had to be postponed until today. Sitting in front of your vanity, you listened to Arwen hum while her hands brushed through your hair. You have asked for her help earlier and being your sister, she of course, did not decline your request of braiding your hair. “Are you excited for todays festivities?” You suddenly asked her. Watching her reflection through the mirror, you saw a gentle smile gracing her face. “Of course I am sister. They have finally returned from their long journey and deserve to be celebrated.” “You are especially keen on celebrating Aragorn, aren’t you?” You teased her. A blush dusted her cheeks, as she gave you a light slap on the shoulder.

“Stop it. Don’t try to deny that you aren’t keen on celebrating a special someone yourself.” Arwen uttered while gathering a few strands of your hair. Looking down at your lap, you tried to hide your broad smile from her. Even the thought of Legolas alone made your heart skip a beat. And now he finally returned to Rivendell. “We are just very close friends, sister.” “Yes. Very very close friends indeed.” You scoffed at her. It was a known fact that Legolas and you have been friends since your early childhood days. You remember playing with him in the gardens of Mirkwood and dancing together at celebrations in Rivendell. You also remember how your heart shattered as you watched him chase after Tauriel. And of course you remember, putting Legolas heart back together once more.

One could say you went through a lifetime already, however you still only remained friends. “Yes, friends. Nothing more and nothing less.” Slight bitterness filled your voice at the prospect of never being more than that with the elven prince. Arwen, noticing the tone, gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “You say it like it is a curse to be his friend.” “Well, you do know how I feel towards him, don’t you?” “And you know that you can change the course of your relationship anytime, don’t you?” Her arms wrapped around your shoulders in a gentle hug. “Stop worrying about a rejection that will never happen. Even our father can tell that Legolas harbours more than just friendly feelings for you, sister.” Smiling at her, you squeezed her arms, that were still encircling you. “Arwen, the sun is already setting and you still haven’t even begun to separate the strands.” She let out a huff at your change of topic and let go of you, continuing to brush through your hair. “Dear sister, would you prefer a half up half down braid with pearls?”

After finally finishing up and heading to the festivities with your sister, you quickly looked around the room. “Searching for someone specific (Y/N)?” Aragorn asked, while holding an arm out for Arwen to take. “No, not particularly.” “She is, but she just is too shy to admit it.” You glared at your sister. “Don’t worry, he will be here soon.” “Thank you, Aragorn but I am not worrying about anything or searching for someone or something. Now excuse me, I need to get a cup of wine.” And with that you left the couple alone.

“When are the both of them finally admitting their feelings for each other?” Arwen asked her lover, while he guided her towards the dance floor. “Legolas once openly admitted to me that he does love her, but he is so unsure about what to do. Especially after he got rejected by Tauriel.” A knowing hum left her lips, as she let Aragorns words sink in. “I think we should help them out. Find the right course for their future.” She said, as she twirled in her lovers arms.

Hours passed by and you found yourself staring up at the stars above. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” You spun around at the familiar voice. Your heart skipping a beat as you watched Legolas approach you slowly. His golden hair was perfectly partly braided behind his pointy ears. You remember that he once let you braid it when you were children and how soft it felt. Averting your eyes, you looked back up at the night sky. “It indeed is.” Standing beside you, he let his hands rest on top of the railing. Your fingers almost brushed against each other, sending tingles through your body. “(Y/N) I actually have a little present for you.” Tilting your head, you turned toward him curiously. His warm hand grabbed yours, turned it around and placed something small inside it. Looking down, you saw an iridescent pearl. Taking it between two fingers you examined it carefully. A small was drilled through the small sphere and small delicate details were carved into the surface.

“Legolas, this is so beautiful. Did you make this?” You looked up at the elven prince, who bashfully looked away. “Yes, a dwarven friend showed me how to make one of the- of the beads.” He stumbled upon his words. “Thank you so much, I love it!” Wrapping your arms around his torso, you gave him a hug. His scent filled your nose. Like a fresh spring breeze with a hint of lavender. His arms gently wrapped around you, engulfing you in his warmth. You could have stayed like this forever. In his arms, in his warmth. Pulling away, you smiled up at him, a soft red hue dusting your cheeks. “Would you like to braid the bead into my hair?” You asked him, still holding onto his hands while the bead is nestled between both of your palms. “It would be an honour.” His smile made your heart flutter and fill your body with a comfortable warmth. Turning around, you let the elven prince gather a strand of your hair, braid it and finish it off with the beautiful bead he just gifted you. “It looks beautiful in your hair. Like a star encased in a soft blanket.” You smiled at his words, as you turned back around. Oh, how you wish this night would never end.

The next day you were walking through the gardens alone. You were thinking about the celebrations yesterday. Especially how Legolas treated you and even gifted you a handmade bead. You also vividly remember how the pair of you glided over the dance floor to various melodies. And how his touch ignited your body. You could still even feel the imprints of his fingers on your waist. Do normal friends even act like we do? “You seem quite in thought today (Y/N)” Aragorns voice rung in your ears, ripping you away from your daydream. “Hello Aragorn, how come you are spending time without my sister? I thought the both of you would be inseparable after your return.” The man let out a soft chuckle at your joke. “She found company in someone else today.” You raised an eyebrow at that. With whom was she spending time?

“And to be completely honest with you, I was seeking you out for today.” “How come?” “Let’s take a walk around the gardens, shall we?” He smiled at you, deflecting your question. Nodding at his request, the both of you started to walk along the stone path. “Do you know how Legolas came up with the idea of making this bead?” “He just told me that a friend helped him. So, I guess Gimli shared some of his wisdom with him.” “That is partly the truth.” You looked at Aragorn curiously. “What do you mean by that?” A sigh left the man at your question. “I can’t exactly tell you, because it is not my place to. However, I really wish he would just finally admit to his feelings and confess. The same also goes to you.” You suddenly stopped walking and stared at him; mouth slightly ajar. Never would you have ever guessed that Aragorn would call you out for your feelings towards the elven prince.

“I- I have my reasons Aragorn.” “And so does he. But would you rather constantly long for him than actually courting him?” Embarrassment flooded your system, as you looked at the ground. “I just- I am scared of losing him.” A hand on your shoulder made you look up. Aragorn smiled gently at you. “You won’t lose him (Y/N). I think he might actually be on his way by now to change something about your… situation.” Aragorns eyes focused on something behind you, which made you turn around confused. Arwen was descending the few stone steps with Legolas beside her. “Well, what a pleasant surprise, isn’t it?” She said, weaving her arm through Aragorns. You looked at Legolas, who gave you a smile as a greeting. Returning his gesture, the four of you continued your walk through the garden.

“I am happy to see you are still wearing the bead in your hair.” The elven prince broke the silence between you. “Of course I am. You put so much effort into this lovely gift, I will cherish it for the rest of my life.” “I am glad to hear that.” He slowed his pace down, to create some distance between the both of you and the pair in front of you. “(Y/N) there is something I want to talk about with you.” A shiver went down your spine at his words. Did he find out about my feelings? Will he reject me now? Dread flooded your system, as you stared at him waiting for him to continue talking. “Do you know how I came up with the idea of gifting you this bead?” Legolas asked you. You shook your head no. “It is quite simple. Gimli talked about his customs and how similar they were to ours in some aspects. He also mentioned that they normally craft courting beads for their significant other.” Warmth spread over your face and dusted your cheeks in a rosy colour.

“After that I asked him if he could show me how to craft one. Because I wanted to give one to you.” Suddenly he stopped walking and turned toward you. Grabbing your hand gently into his, he let his thumb stroke soft circles over your skin. Your heart beat quickened, as you looked up into his warm eyes. “I want to court you (Y/N). I want to spend my lifetime with yours. I want to be beside you during cold nights as well as warm days. I want to be with you and I want to be yours (Y/N).” Gasping at his words, you squeezed his hands reassuringly. “I never would have expected to hear such beautiful words from you Legolas. My heart has always longed to be with yours and I would love to enter this courtship with you. I want to spend my lifetime with you. I want to be yours and I would love you to be mine.”

Smiling brightly at you, Legolas let go of your hands and placed his gently on your face. His thumb stroked along your reddened cheek, before he leaned in slightly. Your heartbeat quickened as his face got closer to yours. But before your lips could touch, he stopped. “Le I velethril e-guil nîn.” And with those words he closed the gap between you. His rich taste filled your system, as you tilted your head more to the side and let his lips engulf more of you. He was addicting, like a drug. A sweet drug. He tasted like a sunny spring morning. Like the comfort and warmth of sunrays on your skin. Separating, the both of you looked at each other lovingly. “Le melin.” You said, smiling brightly at him before indulging once more in his lips and his embrace, making sure to treasure every single second of it.

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 4. The best of all possible worlds

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: smut, wet and messy oral sex (m receiving and regretting it), femdom, sub!Feyd, a bit of cock and ball torture, begging, cumplay, choking, somewhat noncon, BGSM (Bene Gesserit Sado Masochism)

— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine​ @localravenclaw

Humans are born with a susceptibility to that most persistent and debilitating disease of intellect: self-deception. The best of all possible worlds and the worst get their dramatic colouration from it.

— Bene Gesserit Coda

Feyd was breathless. Kneeling before him, as wild and soft as the dust clouds of Arrakis, was a girl with his blood on her lips. She worked his armour off as swiftly as if she herself had worn it and left him naked on the bed while she tugged his boots and trousers off. Her gaze lingered for a moment on his cock, her attention and the cold air of the room kissing its surface. It twitched, yearning for something, straining up toward her with shyness. Her lips curled deliciously before she looked into his eyes again. Feyd swallowed the knot in his throat and moaned.

Her palm travelled up his arm with, deceitfully gentle, caressing the pain that still travelled through it, while her tongue lapped at the wound on his hand. Her eyes, shadowed by dark lashes, looked up into his own, and his heart stuttered. At that moment, he could ask for nothing more from his witch.

He raised a hand to cup her cheek and for a moment felt the way the muscles in her jaw worked as she licked him — an intoxicating feeling — but then she grabbed his wrist and pushed it away from her. It surprised him, angered him, and delighted him… Unlike the other Bene Gesserit he’d met, she did not use her voice to control him, she just used her body. A warrior in her own right.

“Is this your Gom Jabbar,” he giggled between hisses of pain. “Is this your box? That pretty mouth?”

She smiled around his flesh and lifted herself on her knees, slinking up toward him.

“Would you like it to be?”

Feyd looked into her eyes and saw in them everything he wanted to see. All of her attention was on him. Her every breath was breathed for him. He’d never felt more alive than in that moment.

“Yes.”

She smiled and lowered her lips to his chest. Between his legs, he could feel her hands go to her belt, uncoiling it, then heard the soft thud as her dress pooled at her feet. He started breathing faster, excited at the prospect of seeing all of her, but she just pushed him lower, lower on the bed, and crawled above him. Her lips caressed his skin, her tongue teased it, and when she moved her attention to the divot at the centre of his chest he felt her suckle on the drops of sweat there.

“Dirty witch,” he purred.

“Dirty master.”

Feyd let his head lean back and chuckled. She flattened her tongue on his skin, dragging it up to his neck, and lapped against the beating of his pulse.

“Water is precious on Arrakis,” she whispered. “It is life itself.”

He shivered, hands fisting in the sheets with pleasant memories. Each time he took a life in the arena, he took somebody’s soul, consumed it just as surely as his darlings fed on flesh. And here she was, asking to do the same.

“Will you let me take it?” she purred. “Will you let me take your life, your water?”

He grinned a black-mouthed smile as he looked down at her, and found her gaze there, waiting.

“If you can manage,” he said with a cocked brow.

She smiled at him then, an unusual sight — hardly anyone smiled at a Harkonnen — and dipped down to kiss him. Her lips were dry but sweet, and gentler than anything he’d felt before or could remember. He frowned at being treated with such caring — as if she felt something for him. And then her kiss turned to a bite and her teeth sunk in his lower lip.

“Ow,” Feyd giggled, his arms coming up to hold her.

Her hands went gently to his shoulders. From there, they travelled the smooth path of his arms until she caught his wrists and, with unusually firm pressure, she set them right above his head. He felt her body, slick as a snake, settling down on him, her hot and naked skin rubbing against his in a way that made him wince. Her hair, like a curtain, fell down around his face, and for a moment Feyd was lost in the world she made for him. He looked at the shadows that fell around them both, at her smiling face in the centre, and he could easily imagine they were the only people in the universe.

She slinked in that feline way of hers — of all Bene Gesserits perhaps — and brushed her lips against his own on her way down. He reached up for another kiss but was too slow to catch it. Her mouth settled on his clavicle and bit down hard, then she bit and kissed and licked her way down until she reached his heart. It pounded against his ribs, trying to reach toward her. She trembled, her breath tickling his chest, and with a choked little moan, she caught his nipple in her mouth.

Feyd arched his back, groaning, and tried to lift his arms, but she had locked her grip on them in such a way that he found moving impossible. Her teeth closed around his small excited bud. The open kiss of her mouth surrounded the assault, and her tongue was there to lap at the tip of it while her teeth held it still.

“Harder,” he moaned — and she obeyed him. “Ah! Hahaha!” His cheeks hurt from how widely he was smiling. He couldn’t have even answered why. “Harder, witch. My darlings can do better than that.”

She released his arms but he didn’t even have a chance to move them before she slapped his face again. Feyd gasped, his head whipped to the left as pain sang up and down his cheek. She had hit him so hard that his teeth dug into his lip.

“You don’t talk of other women when you are with me,” she said, staring down at him as she straddled his waist. Her hair fell around her figure, veiling not much at all. Above his hardening cock, he could sense the barest hint of her, warm and dripping. “Do you understand?”

“No. Best teach me again,” he grinned. “Ah!”

She slapped him on the other side and let her weight down on him. Feyd didn’t even have a chance to get angry with her because now those soft feminine parts were caressing his cock while his whole face ached. He felt himself getting harder, manhood poking at the soft cleft of her ass. But she straddled him as if he were an object, a pillow she used for her pleasure.

“You’re insufferable,” she hissed, gripping his neck and leaning in. With a rolling of her hips that made him groan, she whispered, “A violent little whore, with a sensitive little cock.”

“Who are you calling little, woman?” he growled.

She chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

Her nails scraped down his skin, leaving painful little welts behind, as she slinked down to her knees. Before Feyd could raise himself on his elbows, she dug her nails into his thigh and, with cloying slowness, her other hand curled around his cock.

Feyd looked down at her between his parted legs, excited to see her face so close to it, her mouth teasingly opened. She licked her lips and looked up into his eyes as her grip tightened, and for a moment she seemed afraid.

Her cheek rested on his other thigh, close to where it met his hip, and she moved her fist higher up his shaft.

“Softer,” Feyd rasped. “Don’t hold it so tight, you —”

“You need a firm grip,” she purred, “my lord na-Baron.”

With lidded eyes, she took in his expanse of body. His strong and hairless thighs, the sweat that gathered at the crux of them, the hint of his round cheeks beneath, and in her grip, her prize.

“You’re blushing,” she chuckled with an innocent smile. “You are so pale, but the tip is turning rosy. So beautiful. So cute...”

He wanted to growl. Nobody referred to him that way, even if it was true, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with her hands all over him. Hot breath tickled at his skin, making him all the more aware of where her attention was focused. She licked her lips as her hand roughly tugged upward. When she reached his head she pressed her thumb against his hole.

Feyd whimpered when he felt his cock weep a little drop for her, and from the way she looked, he almost expected her to kiss it. Her eyes travelled his length while her other hand uncurled its claws from him, leaving little half-moon shapes in pink and red. She brought it below, to where his heavy sac was hanging.

“You’d better not —” he started, but cut himself off with a trembling gasp when she brushed her tongue across his tip.

She looked into his eyes as he held himself up shakily, his arms braced on the bed behind him, but then her lids fell down in something almost serene as she let her lips cover his crown. Her fist held him firmly, too firmly, so hard that the blood couldn’t flow, but he could still feel her. Her mouth was warm and wetter than anything else on that planet, and the curtain of her hair covered almost all of her. Strands stuck to his sweaty thighs. Beneath, her fingers brushed against his sac in a light petting, feeling just the surface of his softest skin. It made his legs tremble. Feyd tried to raise his hips, to push himself into her, but she braced her arms above his thighs and held him down. He groaned, upset, incensed, and petulant.

Her grip went lower, all the way down to his root, pulling his pale skin out of the way. Her lips followed, taking more of him into her mouth. Her soft tongue lapped at the exposed and tender tip, and then she kissed it. One caress of her lips bled into the other as if she couldn’t get enough, and then she started nursing herself on it, suckling the wetness from his cock in a way that felt both careless and needy.

“Is that the water you want?” he rasped with a breathless chuckle. “Hm? That’s what you need?”

She only sucked harder, and her fingers cupped his balls. Feyd dragged in a sharp breath through his teeth as he started feeling himself throbbing. He whined, trying to thrust his hips upward. Whenever he tried, she pressed down against his hips and swallowed more of him, squeezing his length, pressing it against the roof of her mouth in a way that made him surrender. Suddenly, he felt the barest hint of teeth and panicked, but then her fingers caressed his churning sac in such a way that made him want to cry.

It was a remarkable contrast, one worthy of the sunset skies of Giedi Prime. Her mouth suckled harshly on his cock, teeth scraping against his skin while her lips kissed around it and her fist held him tight. Below, her fingers played with his heavily hanging balls, caressing them as if she held in her hand an animal she wanted to tame, and all the while his legs were spread by her body, trapping him in some way, rendering him more exposed than he had felt since… since…

“S-stop,” he muttered.

She didn’t. Her lips pulled away, exposing more of her teeth to the delicate skin of his cock, and with each drag upwards it scraped against him. Feyd cried out in a weak wavering voice that didn’t sound like him at all and his head fell back against his shoulders. He was throbbing so hard his cock was kicking in her mouth, but she moved as if she didn’t notice it. As if she didn’t care. She sucked the taste off him and squeezed the head so roughly he thought she just might rip it off.

“Oh fuck!” Feyd moaned, all the Harkonnen coarseness gone out of his voice to be replaced by a sound of smooth and deeply boyish silk. “Fuck, stop, stop, please…”

She swallowed more of him, drool dripping all around him, and between his legs, her claws started to close dangerously around his balls. The air was filled with sticky sounds and moaning, and the harsh breaths Feyd struggled with.

“I can’t,” he gasped. “I can’t keep going if you —”

With a purr at his sweet pleading, she sunk a little lower until her lips encircled halfway down his cock, and there she held him, still and quiet in her mouth. She scraped her nails against his tender sac, holding the swollen globes in her palm and, with a peaceful sigh, she pulled away from his stomach, holding his member firmly in her mouth as she rested her cheek against his thigh. She looked into his eyes with something of a challenge while she tugged on him with long, hard suckles. Feyd couldn’t help but look back at her lovely face and shudder.

His legs spread wider to accommodate her and across his chest, he felt her fingers trailing up toward his neck until she grasped it. Feyd bit his lip and moaned as she started squeezing harder — around his manhood, around his sac, around his neck to cut his breath off — and he couldn’t hold it anymore.

“That feels… Oh! Y-you’re going to m-make me cum,” he whimpered, his voice sounding low and sad.

His hips thrust upward, his whole body yearning for her, wanting nothing more than to be in her, but she stayed steadily on him as if they were one. Her face rested peacefully against his thigh, lips nursing on his leaking, throbbing cock, and with one more encouraging brush of her nails against his tensing balls she got him to spill into her mouth.

“Aaah! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck —”

Feyd’s whole body trembled, his arms no longer worked, and through the haze of pleasure he felt her hand squeeze even tighter around his throat. He fell back on the bed, head thrashing back and forth, while his balls pushed his seed up the pulsing column of his manhood and straight into her mouth. With a moan at every jet of cum, she pulled it out of him until he was too sensitive and raw and licks of flame replaced the pleasure.

“Stop,” he moaned, “please stop…”

She let go of his throat at first, then she released his sac but kept her fingers there to brush against it, tickling its underside in a way that made his hips jump. Finally, she dragged her mouth off of his cock, all in one long parting suck that ended with a kiss.

With heavy breaths that filled the air around them, Feyd looked down at her — a living storm, a mess. Her cheeks were blushing, her lashes matted with tears, her hair was a damp mess that stuck to her, and her lips… her lips were stained just slightly black. With an imperious stare that suited her, and a little smile, she raised herself on steady arms until she hovered at his stomach, and shamelessly she let his cum spill from her mouth.

“W-what are you —”

She hadn’t swallowed a drop of it. His seed pooled across his stomach, warm from being held so long inside his balls and then inside her mouth, but quickly chilling, stinging where it hit the open scratches. He looked up at her with a hint of anger first, then sadness. Was he not good enough for her?

Silkily, she brushed her hand through the mess she’d just made, painting his own stomach with his cum, and had the nerve to look quite pleased with the result.

“I t-thought… I thought you wanted my w-water,” he stuttered, cocking a brow weakly at her.

She smiled, resting her soft tired head against her shoulder, and played in the mess of cum and sweat upon his tensing stomach.

“I think it looks better on you,” she said, “my lord na-Baron.”

[celebrimbormylove]

Sounds Beyond the Night

Hi, this is my first fic here and I think the rest of my works will continue to be about Celebrimbor as I am hopelessly in love with him. Anyways, enjoy!!! Let me know what you think of it!!!

Thank you @morganas-pendragons for being my sounding board <3

~ Kez

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“A sound so beautiful, it could make your heart race. Do you think such a thing exists?”

His words echoed in your mind while you were practicing an old piece of music. As a young elf, you enjoyed playing the flute whenever you had free time. This, unfortunately, stopped when you became old enough to truly immerse yourself in your studies, but your love for it never faded. It was the only thing that helped you clear your mind and yet, here you are. Unable to focus on your playing because of him.

 The great Elven master smith, Celebrimbor, was floating around your mind, effortlessly. You could spend your days thinking about him and it wouldn’t even bother you. Except for the fact that he barely knew of you. You had spoken once, and he had asked you a question that left you to feel beyond confused. Oh, how you wished to be closer to him. It seemed to be an impossible feat, as you were practically in two separate worlds. But still, your heart yearned for him.

“Did you forget how to play?”

The playful words from your dear friend, Elrond, snapped you out of your thoughts. You were so deep into your own mind that you didn’t see him approach, nor did you hear him call your name earlier. 

“I am perfectly fine, thank you very much.” You stood up and dusted some stray leaves off of your dress. Elrond seemed to always be there right when you needed him the most. While you could usually tell him anything, you found yourself unable to share the contents of your heart. Elrond looked up to Celebrimbor, and you feared that your feelings would make him uncomfortable.

“Yes of course, staring blankly into the distance is no doubt how you play the flute. Something is on your mind, is it not? Tell me.” He crossed his arms and attempted to give you a stern look, but it came off more as a look of concern. He always knew when you weren’t fully yourself.

“I cannot tell you.”  You avoided his gaze, as you knew it would break you. He frowned and turned slightly away from you, thinking of ways to get you to talk.

“Very well. I will let it go for now, seeing as I need your help.”  

“What do you need?”

“Follow me.”  Without even giving you a chance to respond, he started making his way down from the hill you stationed yourself at. You quickly grabbed your belongings and followed him, curiosity flowing through you as you did so.

“I need you to- oh hurry up would you.”  He was walking quickly and you had so many things to carry, hardly a fair thing for him to ask of you at that moment. “I am walking as fast as I can, now tell me what you need.”  You had managed to catch up to him, so you could converse without having to shout.

“I have to ask Lord Celebrimbor for a favour, and I need you there for moral support.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Admiring him from afar was one thing but now, your dear friend was asking you to be in the same vicinity as the man who could cause you to forget how to breathe. 

Noticing you had stopped, Elrond turned around with a confused look on his face. “Y/N? What is bothering you?”

You took a deep breath and tried to regain your composure. “Elrond, I have spoken to Lord Celebrimbor once. I do not believe I will be of any help.”

Elrond laughed and gently grabbed your arm. “Come Y/N. I know what it is that stops you. This is both for me and you. Trust me.”

You could not find the words to argue with him so you allowed yourself to be pulled along, towards the tower where Lord Celebrimbor was. The closer you got to it, the more nervous you became. Elrond, seeing this, gave you a comforting smile as he opened the doors and ushered you inside.

“Lord Celebrimbor, might I speak with you for a moment?”

Elrond’s voice rang throughout the room and the Elven smith walked out from behind a pillar to greet him.

“Ah, Elrond! How good it is to see you! And you have brought Y/N!”

He…knew your name? You had only spoken to him once, and you had not mentioned your name. So how on earth did he know it?

“It is a pleasure to see you again, my lord.” You bowed your head, which was both out of respect and to avoid his eyes.

Elrond began telling Celebrimbor about his project, which left you to casually wander through the room. There were many scrolls, both stacked neatly and tossed around, and a wide variety of tools could be found in every corner of the room. It was amazing how the line between chaos and order was so clear.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

You spun around quickly and stared blankly at Elrond. Apparently, his conversation had included you at some point. “So sorry, what do you need me to do?” You made your way over to the two, still avoiding Celebrimbor’s eyes.

“I need you to keep Lord Celebrimbor company while he works on this project for me. I fear it may bore him at some point.”

Upon hearing this, you decided to finally look at Celebrimbor, who was smiling fondly at you. As you stared into his eyes, you could see his brilliance shining through them. You wondered why you had avoided his gaze for so long, when his eyes were the most captivating thing you had ever seen. 

“Would that be alright with you, Y/N?” Elrond, while waiting for your answer, gave you a small smirk as he knew exactly how you felt. He had known for quite some time now, but wanted to give you the chance to tell him yourself. Seeing as you never did, he decided to take things into his own hands.

“Yes, of course.” 

“Wonderful! I will return in a week or so to check in on the progress.” Elrond bowed once more and left. Which meant that you and Celebrimbor were now alone. In his forge. It then dawned on you that you had no idea how to keep him from getting bored. In fact, you weren’t even sure if he ever got bored. He loved his work, that was clear to everyone.

“Forgive me, my lord, but I do not know how Elrond wished for me to help you. I doubt you find your work boring, no matter what it is you are making.” 

Celebrimbor had already begun working, so he did not look at you as he spoke.

“Elrond tells me you are quite talented with a flute. Perhaps you could play something?”

Ah, your flute. The flute that you promised yourself you wouldn’t play for others until you were confident enough in your abilities again. Elrond knew of this promise, and it seemed as though he had thought of a way to make you break it.

“Very well. Though I should mention, I have not played in the company of others in many years.”  You thought it was best to mention this now, in case you made mistakes or forgot parts of the pieces you were about to play.

He did not reply, though he was waiting for you to begin. You stood in the middle of the room, where you previously assessed was the best spot for acoustics, and began playing the piece you knew best. You closed your eyes, thinking back to the time when you first learned it. You were told that it was a story. A story about the stars, how they shined so warmly and yet, were so cold. How they reflected in the still waters of the night, almost close enough to touch. A song of love and yearning. 

The sound of gems falling onto the ground caused you to stop mid-song. You opened your eyes and quickly looked to where Celebrimbor was working. He was sitting now, his head in his hands and the gems he was previously inspecting, scattered across the floor.

“My lord? Are you alright?”

You placed your flute on a nearby table and quickly rushed to his side. Fear crossed your mind, as you knelt down beside him, gently pulling his hands away from his face. What you did not expect was to meet his eyes, beautiful as ever, yet filled with tears. 

“It was you? All this time?”

“What do you mean?” You stared up at him, confusion written across your face. As far as you knew, you had never played for him before.

He took your hands into his own, staring so deeply into your eyes, you felt as though he could see through your soul. “In the quiet hours of the night, I often find myself strolling through the city, trying to relax my mind. Though lately, I have heard the sweetest sounds, flowing through the night sky and towards the stars. I have heard a sound that I believed to have been blessed by the Valar themselves.”

You were at a loss for words. To hear the man you loved and admired speak so highly of your playing, it made your heart weak. You could no longer stay upright, so you decided to lay down flat on the ground.

“I have seen many beautiful things in my life, yet none compare to this sight before me.”  He couldn’t help but to admire you, as the gems that were once scattered meaninglessly were now surrounding you, like a halo of jewels. He felt as though he had seen the universe in this one moment. Nothing would ever compare to you, to your pure, raw beauty. 

There was no way for you to hide your face from him, as you began to blush from his words. He was staring down at you as though you were his best work. His most prized piece. His every word made your head spin.

“I wish I could see this for the rest of my years.”

“You can. If it is what you truly wish for.”  When you finally spoke, it was no more than a whisper. His eyes widened at your words, and he slowly slid off of his chair, kneeling down beside you.

“You would stay with me?” His voice was soft and gentle, like a summer night’s breeze.

You sat up so you could face him properly. Never in your life would you have imagined yourself in this situation. You face, mere centimeters away from his, as he poured his heart out to you. 

“I would stay with you, until the very end.”  You leaned in closer to him, closing your eyes as you rested your forehead against his. “My love for you would be the very blood rushing through your veins. It would be the air in your lungs. No power in this world, nor any other, could possibly take me away from you.”

You could feel his body relax as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as though he was afraid of losing you. He pulled his face away from yours briefly, to bask in your beauty once more, before he gently held your face in his hands and kissed you.

If the Valar had ever decided to bless him, it was at this moment. Where he felt as though the universe had shifted and stars had aligned. He had many accomplishments in his life, but none of them ever made him feel the way he did now. 

In the middle of the room, where you were safe in each other’s embrace, the world seemed to be at peace, even if it was only for a moment. For he had you, until the end of his days.

[vixstarria]

Vix, gimme an interaction between Wyll and Astarion. Where Astarion is like yo quit trying to steal my girl. But in his Astarion-y way that you write so well! <3

Congrats on 1000 followers my friend!

My pleasure, here's what I came up with:

Bonus Astarion POV scene following Seeing stars:

Earlier this evening you’d finally pulled her aside, confessing your lies and manipulation. Laying bare more details about your past. Fully expecting that to be the end of whatever it was you had with her.  

And yet, despite all odds, she stayed. She wasn’t even angry with you. Something was definitely wrong with her. Delightfully, maddeningly so.  

The proverbial shoe would inevitably drop sooner or later – this was too good to be true. But until then, you could allow yourself more of these impossible moments of comfort and happiness.  

You now stalked the camp, trying to find something to occupy yourself with. You’d been doing your utmost to avoid following her around like a lovesick puppy. After all, now you knew she would be back in your arms again later tonight. And you wouldn’t need to do anything but hold her. 

You caught sight of Wyll. An irritated anger still seethed in you after the stunt he had pulled yesterday. He had managed to avoid you all day, having stayed back in camp. 

He was sparring with Lae’zel, trying to teach her how to use a rapier. She was arguing, perhaps justifiably, that she didn't see the point in poking small holes in someone when she could simply cut them in half with a greatsword.  

On an impulse, you approached.  

“A moment with your sparring mate, if you don’t mind,” you directed at Lae’zel. She motioned you to go ahead, with a knowing look.  

Before Wyll could react you swiftly kicked his legs out from under him, simultaneously grabbing him by a horn and catching him in a headlock.  

“I heard you’re not too fond of the horns. Rest assured, I will assist you in breaking them off should you touch what does not belong to you again.” 

Lae’zel stood back observing, arms crossed, with an amused expression on her face, as Wyll scuttled, kicking up dust, trying to keep his balance.  

“You are right, and I apologise! I was caught up in the moment and not thinking straight,” Wyll gritted through his teeth. Trying to keep the peace and stay amicable even now. How dull. 

“Yes, I’m sure you were quite caught up in the moment you had orchestrated.” You dropped him in the dirt. “Just don’t do it again,” you said, starting to walk away.  

“Would you have pulled his hair if you could grasp it?” 

Apparently the scuffle had merited a rare smile from Lae’zel.  

“Honestly... Probably, yes,” you said without slowing down, as you walked past her. It wasn’t too long ago that Tav mentioned that Lae’zel herself had propositioned her recently, and you were not about to get into an altercation with the githyanki. 

“You have already mastered biting, but have you considered scratching as a tactic?” she called out after you.  

Over two centuries old, and reduced to fistfights over your lover, like a grease-faced adolescent.  

It was mere days ago that you socked Gale in the nose for referring to Tav as your ‘livestock’. He still sported a bruise and steered clear of you. 

Had you gotten into fights over love interests in your youth, you wondered. You scoured your memory for anything that might ring a bell, but came well short of any images. Some ghost of a feeling whispered faintly in your mind. Despair at... being rejected? Excluded? Were there several people involved at once..? The memory came up as a sour aftertaste of melancholy and dejection. It must have been sharp once, for any remnant to survive for over 200 years. You didn’t try to pursue it further. 

You rounded a corner to see Tav talking with that mountain of an elf named Halsin.  

Did you truly just overhear them talking about how large he is..? 

Ha! But also, really? Sigh... Fuck my unlife... 

You would deal with that later, if it ever came to that. You kept walking. 

You glanced at Shadowheart. The cleric was praying in her corner of the campsite, as she was wont to do more and more often in her spare time, of late. When had she approached Tav, anyway, you wondered. Must have been back at the tiefling party. Hardly a threat anymore.  

What now?  

You spotted Karlach stargazing near her excuse of a tent.  

You grabbed a bottle of wine you found palatable from one of the supply crates and made your way towards the tiefling.  

“Karlach! My best friend, my pal. My home-girl, my rotten soldier. My sweet cheese, my good-time gal.” * 

“Are you okay there, fangs?” she gave you an apprehensive look.  

“Never been better! A game of cards, now that you can hold them yourself?” 

There. You could have normal, friendly interactions with your companions too.  

“Alright. But I’ll punch you every time I catch you cheating.” 

“Fair.” 

Absolutely normal.  

*Sorry, I couldn’t resist, the Lazlo quote plagues me.  

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “So this is what a full hotel looks like…”

Vaggie: “Think it’ll survive until Extermination day?”

Charlie: “I don’t know if I’LL survive to Extermination day.”

Vaggie: “Aww, babe.”

Charlie: “Seriously, who keeps ordering pizza??? We all already KNOW the cannibals will just skip it and try chewing on the poor delivery person!”

Vaggie: “My bet’s on Angel Dust. He’s not exactly thrilled the place got filled up with ‘shit smiling judgmental prudes.’”

Charlie: “Whyyy didn’t I remember the cannibals have a whole dress-code thingy?”

Vaggie: “They are being polite about it though.”

Charlie: “They keep eyeing Angel Dust’s exposed thighs like they’re chicken wings.”

Vaggie: “And if they wanted to eat him up in any other way, he’d be thrilled.”

Charlie: (growling) “Some of them keep looking at YOUR thighs as if they were-”

Vaggie: “Anything other than property of Charlie Morningstar?”

Charlie: “-Vaggie they want to TEAR YOU APART!”

Vaggie: “And they’re not actually trying it, which is polite, even if they’re still talking about how angels might taste whenever I’m in the room.”

Charlie: (pout) “You taste good.”

Vaggie: “Not like that, babe.”

Charlie: “How could the rest of you not taste good too??”

Vaggie: “Ask the cannibals. Meat flavors based on where the meat thing lived and what it ate, something something- What if angel steaks taste like artificial food coloring?”

Charlie: “I like those-!”

Vaggie: "I know." (laughing) “Maybe that’s another reason why you’re the woman of my dreams.”

Charlie: “Am I?”

Vaggie: “The one and only.”

Charlie: “You’d never… think about leaving me for someone else?”

Vaggie: “NO?”

Charlie: “Someone a little more badass maybe?”

Vaggie: “Not possible. You called heaven out for being total bullshit. In a song.”

Charlie: “Maybe someone you had an instant and deep connection with?”

Vaggie: “Like the woman that bandaged my eye socket and took me home with her and nursed me through physical and emotional hell all because she also thought sinners might be people worth caring about?”

Charlie: “Well what about someone who… is just better? At the whole. Everything.”

Vaggie: “Literally who. Who the fuck-”

Charlie: “Carmilla?”

Vaggie: “Car-hhhhHHH." (chokes)

Vaggie: "AHAHAHAHAH! Charlie! WHAT!?”

Charlie: “She’s cool. She’s one of those, those muffin things right? Angel Dust said-”

Vaggie: “A milf, sweetie. It’s milf and PLEASE also listen to Husk’s reality checks whenever Angel Dust opens his well meaning but dumb as shit whore mouth.”

Angel Dust: (distantly) “My HOT and SEXY whore mouth heard that, toots!”

Vaggie: (yelling back) “Then go stick a dick in it!”

Angel Dust: “I’m tryin’~”

Charlie: (used to this) (ignoring them) “So the whole private training battle song thing was, not a turn on for you? At all?”

Vaggie: “If I ever call Carmilla Carmine ‘mommy’ it’ll be because she just signed my adoption papers.”

Charlie: “Oh! Okay! Juuuust wanted to check.”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “Are you gonna ask about me and the head-to-heart I had with-”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “-because I was literally thinking about you the whole time-“

Vaggie: (smile) “That just took a perfectly non-worrying thing and made it sound bad.”

Charlie: “Is there a thing like a- an elf??”

Vaggie: “Aunt you’d like to fuck?”

Charlie: “Well not ME personally. But Rosie is very impressive.”

Vaggie: “You looked more impressed up in heaven.”

Charlie: “Huh? Heaven??”

Vaggie: “Nothing- never mind. I do actually have a lady-related question for you though.”

Charlie: “What does heaven have to do with- what?”

Vaggie: “I think I’m in love.”

Charlie: “WHAT!?”

Vaggie: “She’s ripped out my heart and I want to thank her for it.”

Charlie: “Th-thh that’s wait how when-?”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “-y, yes?”

Vaggie: “Can we keep inviting Susan over, even after Extermination day?”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Susan.”

Vaggie: “Charlie please? Please? She's the granny I don't deserve and desperately need in my life. Please please please please-”

Charlie: “But, Vaggie- She HATES everyone!”

Vaggie: “I know!”

Charlie: “And she SAYS it!?”

Vaggie: “And it’s so fucking cool.”

Charlie: “She said you dress like a hooker!”

Vaggie: “Angel Dust was furious. I think he would’ve thrown a punch at her, in defense of hookers everywhere, if Husk hasn’t grabbed him.”

Charlie: “A LAZY hooker!”

Vaggie: “That one hit home and I’ll cherish it’s sting forever.”

Charlie: “She’s not NICE. She doesn’t even PRETEND to be nice like the other cannibals do!”

Vaggie: “Isn’t that great?” (grinning) “She’s like, the anti-Alastor….”

Charlie: (sigh)

Charlie: “I guess… being brutally, painfully, rudely honestly about your feelings is… not the worst thing someone can be.”

Vaggie: “YES! Can we adopt the creepy old mean lady?”

Charlie: “She can visit. We are NOT inviting her to LIVE here.”

Vaggie: (smiling)

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: (drooping) “…not unless she wants to.”

Vaggie: “Thanks, sweetie.” (kiss) “She never would. She hates us all and especially the hotel. Ask her and she’ll tell you, in detail, how all our decorating ideas are terrible and she’s only here to grab the free snacks, shove some angel leftovers in her basket, and then fuck off to her own perfect home back in Cannibal Town.”

Charlie: “So why scare me like that by asking? SUSAN in the attic! Ughghgh…”

Vaggie: “’cause it’s nice hearing you’d be open to it anyway.”

Charlie: “Mmrmph.”

Vaggie: “I like remembering that you’re like this.”

Charlie: “Whipped marshmallow.”   

Vaggie: "That Angel Dust again?"

Charlie: "Maybe."

Vaggie: "I've got a better word for you."

Charlie: "Like 'girlfriend?"

Vaggie: “Like amazing.”

Charlie: (snorts) (smiles) "Heh. Alright, flattery accepted."

Vaggie: "My wonderfully, adorably dramatic, heart stopping and breathtakingly passionate girlfriend, the most incredible person I've ever met, who-"

Charlie: (laughing) “Now who’s being a sweetie?”

Vaggie: “Charlie, I’m seri- whoah!”

Niffty: (lifting up floor board vaggie was standing on and peeking up at them) “Hey guys!”

Charlie: “Niffty!” (hug lifting vaggie to safety) “W- hi! Um! What is it?”

Niffty: “A bad day not to wear underwear!”

Vaggie: “And a good day to Die.”

Niffty: "I WISH!" (GIGGLES) “News from the hotel gossip line! S.O.S from Husk- he says Angel Dust and some cannibals are fighting over who gets to put the new pizza delivery in their mouths while Cherri’s taking bets and also shots.”

Charlie: "Shots of alcohol?"

Niffty: "Laser gun!"

Charlie: "Nooooo I thought we'd cleaned up everything after Pen's last inventing spree!"

Niffty: "Missed one. She keeps missing too. She fried the pizza."

Vaggie: "Instead of?"

Niffty: (GRINS) "The pizza delivery person!"

Vaggie: “Ugh. We look away for Ten. Minutes.”

Charlie: “Well that’s not- that’s not TOO bad! At least Sir Pentious isn’t-”

Niffty: “His corpse is in the lobby.”

Charlie: “-right. Okay.”

Vaggie: “Why is he a corpse in the hotel lobby this time?”

Niffty: “The cannibals accidentally ate his tongue while he was trying to show Cherri how long it was and then he choked while proving he has no gag reflect and can unhinge his jaws.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

Niffty: “The cannibals want to snack on him again but Susan keeps yelling at them about ‘crumbling standards’ and ‘back in HER day-‘”

Vaggie: “I love her.”

Charlie: “I’m right here.”

Vaggie: “You kinda love her too right now.”

Charlie: (pulls face) “She can come to dinner every other week. If we live. For now though, let’s just, um.”

Vaggie: “Go save the snake man?”

Niffty: “That man is DEAD!”

Charlie: “Resuscitate. We should go resuscitate the snake m- Sir Pentious.”

Niffty: (giggles) “And I’m gonna go order another pizza boy~” (scurries back under floor board)

Vaggie: “Wait, Niffty-”

Charlie: “Niffty! Are YOU the one who’s been-? Vaggie NO-”

Vaggie: (spear out) (in pursuit) “GET OUT OF THE CRAWL SPACES RIGHT NOW AND COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE-”

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn in Baldur's Gate 3: Chapter 1

Plot: You’ve been reincarnated.  It’s the realization you come to when the tiefling offering you a health potion introduces himself as Tav.  You died and your soul revived in Baldur's Gate 3, at the beginning of the game no less.  But you only have the memories of your past life on Earth, and none of your current one.  

Tav invites you to join him on his journey, despite your lack of abilities or maybe because of it.  You might as well go along with it; where else would you go with no memory of who you currently are, or knowledge of anything that lies outside of the narrative?

There is much to discover about your life in Baldur's Gate, and what transpires relies on the tiefling leading your group as Tav.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This is very self-indulgent so there will by a lot of Gale and Astarion.

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

“I’m Tav.”

He’s a tiefling, you recall.  Tall and bulky with curled horns.  The dark gray skin tells you he’s descended from Mephistopheles, and his simple leather gear tells you he’s a barbarian.  Huh.  Yeah, that makes sense, he’s Tav, the hero of the game!  Or…the villain?  Your head pounds as memories flood back to you—tieflings, bards, goblins, vampires—you, sitting at a computer debating which choice would garner you the most favour with your companions in…

“Baldur’s Gate,” you mumble.  You slap a hand over your mouth, staying on your knees as you blink at the tiefling.  At Tav.  He arches his brows and kneels beside you, offering you a small vial of red liquid.

“You’re from Baldur’s Gate, too?” he asks.  “Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.”

Without much thought you take the already opened vial from him and swallow it down in one small gulp.  With a deep breath the pounding in your head subsides and you can think a little clearer.  Maybe not clear enough to fully comprehend that you’re currently in a video game, or that there’s a small wriggling behind your left eye which means…

More images come to you, a mind flayer holding a worm with too many teeth to your eye,  a githyanki—Lae’zel—pointing a sword at you, and then falling from the ship.  The nautiloid.  Tav’s memories of the ship.

Tav winces as the visions fade.  “Guess you got one of those, too.”

A chill runs down your spine, through each and every bone of your body until the squirming thing behind your eye stops movement all together.  

“I uh…”  You look around at the crash area, taking in the rocks and splotches of fire dotting the land on one side and water on your left, until you meet the gaze of a raven-haired half-elf.  

“This one doesn’t seem to be all there,” she says.  Her voice is as smooth and condescending as you remember, and you find it endearing despite the insult.

“Give them a moment,” Tav responds over his shoulder.  “It’s a lot to take in.”

Yes, especially because this is most definitely a dream.  A very vivid, painful, exciting, insane dream.

“What’s your name?” 

You fear all you can do is blink.  You tell them your name, voice as shaky as your body.  There’s a tremble in your hands that you can’t control, even with a hard grip on the now empty vial.  “And thank you…for the potion.”

Tav lifts, holding a large sharp-nailed hand out to you.  “Can you stand?”

You nod, taking his hand and letting him lift you to your feet. You let your hand drop to dust off your clothes, nothing that you remember wearing.  The last thing you recall was going to bed in a tank top and shorts but you’re now wearing a dark blue overcoat atop loose fitting pants and a fitted shirt.  The borders of the coat are stitched with gold swirls, and based on the softness of everything you wear it has to be expensive.  Somehow, after everything (whatever the Hells that involved) you are quite clean.  Not to mention the bag that hangs at your hip beneath your coat is quite heavy, and another bag that wraps around your waist and sits at your back has the contents clinking together when you move.

You look like a caster of some kind, but you can’t tell which.  You can’t feel anything that would indicate your abilities, but some cold sensation at the back of your mind tells you you can do something.  Like another limb sits in your mind, waiting to be moved.

“We don’t have time for stragglers,” Shadowheart says.

“Yet I helped you,” Tav counters.  There’s a playfulness to his tone that doesn’t match his furrowed brow.  

Shadowheart concedes.  “Fair enough.  You’re welcome to join us in our search for a healer.”

You nod.  Yes, a healer!  They’ll be able to—pain strikes your temples as another memory clouds your mind.  

A truck careening at you, horn blaring—a sharp hit of adrenaline and then…here.

“Oh my God I’ve been isekaied.”  Your revelation earns you quizzical looks from Tav and Shadowheart.  Reincarnated.  Just like those cheesy but addicting books about a girl being reincarnated as a villainess in some cheesy addicting romance novel.  You press your hands to your face, feeling familiar features but still wary.  “Quick, what do I look like?”

“A lunatic,” Shadowheart answers.

Tav hesitates, but describes you.  You.  Not some other face, not a character you recall from the game but you.  Regular human you. You sigh, relief flooding over you.

“As…interesting as this conversation is, we should get moving,” Tav says.

“Agreed.”  Shadowheart doesn’t move until Tav heads to the only direction you can go, near part of the crashed ship.  

“We need to find Lae’zel,” Tav adds.

“Less agreeable,” Shadowheart says.  “She’s probably long gone by now, if not dead.”

“Well we should still keep an eye out.”

You follow the two into the still burning wreckage where they suddenly stop and draw their weapons—Tav a large axe, and Shadowheart her mace and shield.  

“Intellect devourers,” you conclude.  Three sit at the far end of the ship, scurrying towards you at a frightening speed.  With one slash of his axe Tav takes out two of them before they can get close to you, and Shadowheart smacks the other one down.  All defeated in what?  Three seconds? 

The three brains bleed out and flop to their sides, clawed limbs twitching.

“Vile creatures,” Tav says, holstering his axe.  You expect the two to keep moving and check the nearby bodies for gold and supplies, just as you do in the game, but they don’t.  They walk right past the dead man without rifling through his pockets and as you step by you feel your stomach lurch.  To see a bloody disfigured body in reality felt very different from the game. The vacant eyes staring upward, pieces of flesh torn from his stomach…It isn’t until a hand covers your eyes and directs you forward do you realize you’d stopped.  

“Just keep moving,” Tav says, keeping his hand by the side of your head so you can’t see the body.  When his hand falls you keep your eyes on his swinging tail, and follow after him as he turns and moves into the sun.

Barrels and a broken down cart let you know what’s coming next—who’s coming next.  

Your excitement strikes you then, still shaky and confused but awake.  You’re in Baldur’s Gate 3, with Tav and Shadowheart, and hopefully all the others.  

Your eyes scan the water nearby, debris scattered everywhere until you spot a dagger on the dock.  Tav and Shadowheart watch you dart over and pick it up.

“I thought you would be one to attack with words, not knives,” Shadowheart says coolly.

You stash the dagger in a boot, smiling at Shadowheart.  Gods. She was pretty as pixels but seeing her in the flesh, she was something else.  “Well, words aren’t always the best weapons.”

“Can I get some help?”

You recognize the voice without needing to see the speaker.  Astarion is just up the hill waiting to ambush Tav and…kill him depending on how he answers.  

Based on how Tav darted ahead at the sound of someone in trouble (albeit fake trouble) you figured it wouldn’t turn out too terribly.  So they had skipped over robbing the dead, and didn’t explore every corner of the map looking for treasure chests…that didn’t mean things would be different with each companion intro, right?  There’s a plot here, and it has to be followed to a certain degree…right?  There were no screen pop ups to decide dialogue and you all appeared to have free will, which was good.

Right?

Your thoughts did little to comfort you as you climbed the hill to find Astarion already pointing his blade at Tav who was apparently perceptive enough to dodge rolling around in the ground with the vampire.  You stopped next to Shadowheart, at ease just watching the situation unfold.

Both men twitch and writhe as their parasites connect.  When their visions fade Astarion questions it, and Tav answers honestly about being in the mind flayer ship and what the worms can do.

You study Astarion’s face as he realizes that he’s somewhat free, but there’s a time limit to the incubation period.  Tav offers for him to join your trio, and just like you remember, he agrees.

“Splendid,” Astarion says.  “Lead on.”

At that the vampire meets your eyes.  Icicles dance up your spine until they pierce the back of your head, making you wince and hold a hand against the spot.  

You grunt at the sudden pain, the sound quiet but drawing attention all the same.  You wave the eyes away from you with your free hand.  “Sorry.  Head still hurts a bit from…having a tadpole put inside it.”

Nobody questions that, though you know it was something else.  Every time your eyes even flit in Astarion’s direction you can feel a push at the back of your head, that phantom limb clenching as if trying to stretch and release itself.  You wish you could say it was the tadpole, but it feels nothing like when you connected with Tav.  

“Well let’s just try to keep our worms separate,” Astarion says, seemingly at you.  “I don’t need to see what’s in your head anymore than you do mine.”

His eyes linger a moment on Tav.  You nod your agreement though he isn’t looking at you now.

“I saw some footprints along another path,” Tav announces.  “There could be other survivors.”

There doesn’t seem to be any question as to who is in charge.  Shadowheart insists on searching for a healer but with a quick convincing from Tav you’re all headed towards a strange looking purple sigil.  

“Looks unstable,” Shadowheart says.

“Best left alone,” Tav agrees.  It was just like a friend's first play through that thought the sigil would kill them, so they never had Gale join their party.  It wasn’t a totally unfounded theory—swirling, sparking voids did seem like something that shouldn’t be touched but everything in this world had a purpose.  Anything out of place or, well, glowing, was important to the story.

But then the group is walking toward the bodies of three goblins discussing supplies.  

They’ll steal from goblins but not humans?  Seems odd but maybe you’re the weird one being so willing to pillage the dead, no matter their race.  You frown, looking back at the sigil and knowing who is inside.  “You sure you don’t want to see why it’s like that?”

Astarion is observing his nails while Tav loots the goblin bodies.  Shadowheart kicks one of the bodies out of her way once fully plundered and looks back at you.  “Be my guest.  But if you get sucked in don’t expect me to come looking for you.”

“I’ll come look for you,” Tav states with a cheeky grin, hands inside a dead goblins pockets. It makes you smile back, so…kind and disarming.  You recall barbarians didn’t have high charisma, but Tav seemed to have it in spades.  Or perhaps your recent head injury was clouding your judgement—after all your reaction to being reincarnated, to being dead, was quite tame. 

“Ah, a true hero.”  Astarion looks between you and Tav, eyes narrowing as if trying to solve a puzzle.

You turn your attention back to the sigil, taking a small step towards it when an arm pops out. 

“A hand?” a voice calls.  “Anybody?”

You slap the waxing hand immediately without a thought.

“Perhaps I should have been more specific,” Gale says.  “A helping hand please?”

“Oh, right!”  You quickly take his hand in yours and tug to no avail.  

“Keep trying!”

You pull harder, wondering if you were going to end up holding a severed arm in your hand as the sigil sparks brighter and buzzes with energy.  You choose to ignore those thoughts and keep trying to free the wizard. 

With one final pull the person connected to the arm comes tumbling out of the sigil.  If it had been Tav to pull Gale free you’re certain it would have been a smooth experience, and he would have stepped back and dodged getting shoved to the ground by the sudden lack of resistance.  But it wasn’t Tav, it was you, and instead of dodging the wizard your feet tangled with each other and you both went down. 

The wind is knocked from your lungs with Gale atop you, his forehead connecting with your sternum and leaving you gasping for air.  Strands of his hair fall onto your lips, soft and smelling of something spicy while his left arm is wrapped around your middle, the other braced against the ground.  You realize he’d been trying to protect you on the way down, but wasn’t quick enough to cover the back of your head, which now throbs from the fresh battering.  

“Ouch,” you croak, voice barely making it out of your throat.  Footsteps approach until Tav, Shadowheart, and Astarion are hovering over you, each with a small smile.  Well…Astarion’s is more of a smirk…

Gale pushes himself off of you and before he can say anything Tav has his hands beneath your underarms and is pulling you up.  His hands slide to your back until you’re steady enough to stand on your own and thank him, rubbing at the back of your head again. 

Throbbing is better than stabbing, you suppose.

“Apologies,” Gale says as he smooths his hair back, “I’m usually much better at this.”

You continue to rub the back of your head as he and Tav exchange dialogue, much of it going in one ear and out the other as you focus on the pain radiating in your skull.  You squeeze your eyes shut and let your hands fall to your sides, giving in to the fact you can’t rub away whatever sensation is there.

“And you my friend.”  Gale is in front of you, drawing your gaze to meet his.  “I am truly sorry for landing on you, but extremely grateful for the help.”

You can’t stop your smile at him anymore than you could with Tav.  “Happy to help.”

His eyes stay on you a moment longer than appropriate, but when they drape down your body you think he’s almost sizing you up.  For a fight, or romance, or maybe to steal your coat you aren’t sure.

You look to Tav for direction, waiting for the leader to…well, lead.  Lae’zel should be next, but that’s when you notice you have an extra member.  With you there it makes five travellers, but nobody has been sent to camp yet.  Wherever that is.  While you’d like a moment to sit and organize your thoughts, the idea of heading somewhere on your own was terrifying. 

“I hear voices over that ridge,” Astarion announces.  Everyone turns towards where he’s looking, just a few feet ahead where the path winds up and you know you’ll find two tieflings looking at Lae’zel.  But you can’t hear them yet.

“Let’s check it out.”  Tav is already moving before anyone can object.  And like ducklings you follow him with Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart.

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Slow Dancing in Circles

Ascended Astarion || Astarion x f!Tav || ao3 || Masterlist

Rating: M , +18 Word Count: +1.4k Warnings: Ascended Astarion, abuse, mentions of sex (dub-con?, no description of sex act), mentions of death, adult themes.

And so it’s just you and him going through the same old motions, following a routine of his design—you always do, these days. Or decades. Centuries? Who knows? Not that it matters, no. You’ve been doing this for a very long time. Agreeing. Smiling. Fighting. Fucking. Dancing. Crying. Blood. So much blood. Even when this ballroom is long dead, the Gate is still bleeding red—for you, he says. Always for you. 

a/n: said I wouldn't do AA content but I talk a lot, apparently. Written in a frenzy. Another not so edited work, because I'm playing around with my writing lately and also try to chill a little. And it's 3am, make of that information what you will.

The Vampire Lord’s hand is clasping yours tightly as you dance around his empty ballroom. There’s no music accompanying you tonight—there was once, but not anymore. You can’t say when it crept in exactly, the heavy silence in this grand room. You only know that the music faded gradually, once upon a time, so slowly that you only noticed its absence when it had long fallen silent. Not that it matters, now.

The Lord of the house and you—his consort, his bride, his little love—are the only guests this room has seen in years, but you still know the steps of this dance by your cold, undead heart. You’ve gone through these same motions thousands of times before, and still, the Vampire Lord insists on guiding you through them. It’s not that he fears you’ll forget your place in time—you can’t, because he seldom wastes an opportunity reminding you.

Follow my lead, little love, he purrs into your ear. It’s not like you could do otherwise.  

And so it’s just you and him dancing through a withering ballroom, old grandeur slowly crumbling under years of silence and moonlit dust. One step forward, two steps back. Left. Right. Left. Left. Spin. Back. Back. Forward, please? Back. Left. No, pet, start again. There’s no end to this dance, unless the Vampire Lord wishes so, and he never does. 

And so it’s just you and him going through the same old motions, following a routine of his design—you always do, these days. Or decades. Centuries? Who knows? Not that it matters, no. You’ve been doing this for a very long time. Agreeing. Smiling. Fighting. Fucking. Dancing. Crying. Blood. So much blood. Even when this ballroom is long dead, the Gate is still bleeding red—for you, he says. Always for you. 

You’re hungry, little love. 

Are you? You must be, because he is. The Vampire Lord is insatiable. And so you must be, too. It’s just another step of this dance. Drinking. Sucking. Waiting. Killing. Damning. Fucking. Blood. So much blood. Love…? Once, maybe. You can’t be sure. Not anymore. Not since your fangs have grown dull. Not since you’re dancing in empty rooms. 

There is no need for you to hunt, let alone starve—not when the Vampire Lord is providing for your every need. Has he ever not done that? No, you haven’t known a night of hunger in his house. How very kind. What would you do without him?

You should be grateful, little love. 

He’s right. There’s no need for you to prowl dark alleys. No drunks, no whores, no rats to taint your pretty mouth with. Only the very best for you, pet. So the Vampire Lord brings you a handsome virgin when you’ve been good, and you always are for him. Gifts you an elf that has seen so many centuries, they’re carved into their beautiful leathery skin. Lies down a girl before you whose belly is so swollen with child that you can’t tell one heartbeat from the other. Their blood is calling to your instincts. You urge to pierce their skin with your fangs, but—  

We ask before we bite, little love.

Yes. May you have some blood, please? Of course, pet, of course! A feast just for you! Who else would it be for? Who else would matter as much as you do?

Come, eat right up, little love!

The moment your food arrives in your chambers it’s pale-faced and stupid with mortal agony. You don’t particularly like that. Their blood has an odd taste to it when the servants had to wash piss and shit off their fear-paralysed bodies right before serving them to you. They’re still alive but stink of death; it’s distasteful. Pitiful. You hate the way they look at you. But you don’t tell the Vampire Lord that. It would be ungrateful, wouldn’t it? 

I said eat, little love.

And doesn’t he feed you so lovingly, even when you reject his generosity at first? You don’t even need to use your own fangs to rip out their throats, he’s angry enough to do it for you. All you need to do is drink. Consume. Live. Please, even if you don’t want to. Listen to skin ripping and bone breaking. Screams fading into music fading into silence in the once-grand ballroom. Life fading to dust. 

The Vampire Lord knows you prefer the ones that are already half-drained of life when they’re brought to you—he knows everything about you. You like them better because they don’t move. They don’t scream. They don’t go through the same motions over and over and over again. All they need to do is die. They’re as good as gone when the Vampire Lord takes the last of their blood in his mouth, pulls you into a heady kiss. They don’t know that their essence drains from his mouth into yours, down your throat, and all you need to see are glassy eyes when the hunger you haven’t even felt has finally been sated. 

Good girl, little love, you’re so very good for me.

You wish you had been more like them, once upon a time, already gone instead of being consumed by fear. Stupid with love. Giving what wasn’t yours to give. Back then—when was it; does it even matter?—when your hands hadn’t yet been drenched in the blood of countless souls. Back then, when all you wanted was to protect the man you…No, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Even thinking like that is very bad of you. And yet, the Vampire Lord already knows of your wish. He knows it so well that you’ll never find the words to tell him of it yourself. He doesn’t want to hear of your wish, so silence remains. And it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

I need you, little love.

The Vampire Lord fucks you the same way he dances with you—slow, but firmly. Holding you as close as your bodies allow, lest you vanish into one of the many empty rooms in this grand eroding house. That’s when you love him most. This body inside you is the only thing that still feels like him—the man you loved, once upon a time. Always. What was his name again? He had a silly laugh, you remember, and he was so very sad. Scared. He loved you so much.

Nothing feels as good as you do, little love.

The Vampire Lord plunging into you isn’t scared, nor is he very sad. He’s long over such mortal whims. He’s frantic, though, most of the time. He thinks he’s hiding it, but you went through the steps of this dance so many times that you can glimpse past the mask. He loves you still—his consort, his little love, his prisoner. 

Not that it matters, because it’s just him and a shadow of yourself dancing in a crowded ballroom at all times. Seven thousand damned souls are tugging at your skirts, you can feel their grasp as much as you can feel the Vampire Lord clasping your wrist, his nails digging into your skin. They’re one and the same, death and him. 

Follow my lead, little love. Follow my lead.

The Vampire Lord drags you over ash and bones and blood, so much blood that it makes your head spin. He’s a puppet master pulling the strings of all that’s dead and he won’t ever let go of you—you can tell by the smile on his face that doesn’t reach his all-seeing eyes. It never does. 

You want to hurt him. He knows.

What is it, little love?

You hate him. That man who stole your lover, once upon a time. No, you have to admit that’s not quite right. You were there, too, after all. You’d given him the dagger and then held down your lover as the Vampire Lord stripped himself of the man he was before. You two killed him so very thoroughly, except for his body there is nothing left, now.

“I love you,” is all you can say. They’re not your words, not anymore. 

I know, little love, you always will. 

Sunlight is breaking through dusty old curtains. The Vampire Lord spins you dangerously close to the soaring heat reaching for you. Why doesn’t he just let this house go up in flames? It would be no trouble. You always burned so bright, once upon a time. It would take but a moment.

But burning isn’t part of this dance. Left. Death. Back. Hatred. Back. Eternity. Spin. Tears. Right. His name started with an A. Right. Aeterna amantes. Forward, please? Lovers forever. No, pet, start again. There is little love left, but, as you’re slow dancing in circles through this tomb, you know that eternity has only just begun. 

[dullgecko]

Fabian asks Riz out to senior prom.

Not really romantically, and the main reason was that too many lovestruck underclassmen were asking Fabian to go with them or slipping flowers into his locker (I mean cmon hes the the fit, half-elf, wealthy pirate that dances like an angel, who wouldn't do this).

The attention is stifling, which is saying a lot considering he's the most flamboyant attention seeker in school. Anyway he gets mobbed two weeks before prom and pressured into giving an answer, and even though he was planning on going alone, Fabian panicked, and the first thing he thinks to say is: "Sorry, I'm going with the Ball."

Well great. Now he's gotta ask his asexual best friend to a goddamn formal dance.

He tracks Riz down after school, the goblin chatting with Kristen and the other student council members about something Fabian was sure was VERY boring and unimportant. Waving the goblin over to himself when he was noticed and waiting for him to finish his conversation.

"The Ball, excellent. All done with your... stuff?" Fabian tried to affect a casual tone, leaning on the lockers beside himself before realising how awkward it looked and standing back up straight.

"Yeah just lots of logistics left to do before the dance, only got a couple weeks before it kicks off so we need to get it all sorted soon." The rogue ran his hands through his hair, a little stressed, knocking his glasses askew slightly as he stared at the notebook in his hand. Fabian taking the oportunity to crouch closer to his eye-level under the pretense of fixing it for him so that he wouldnt be overheard by anyone still milling about the coridors.

"Ah, of course. SPEAKING of he formal-" Excellent segue Seacaster, you're doing such a good job of being casual about this. "Have you perhaps found anyone to go with yet?"

"Me?" Riz laughed, turning his head up to let Fabian try to level out his glasses and snorting when he also tried to fix his messed up hair. "No? I was kind of just planning on volunteering to check tickets and bounce once everyone was inside."

"Oh. Fantastic. That means you haven't volunteered yet." Fabian flattened out Riz's hair before thinking better of it and messing it up a little more artfully than it had been before and leaving it at that. Removing is hands but remaining crouched so Riz didn't have to look up at him while talking.

"I was wondering if you'd perhaps like to go with me?"

It took the goblin a couple seconds to process what he said, one ear drooping down in an expression of pure confusion before they both perked up. Riz beaming at him and waveing his tail behind him with an expression of pure joy.

"What like... as your date? Yeah! I've never been asked to prom by anyone before."

"Well yes." Fabian stood back up, dusting off his pants and mentally patting himself on the back for a job well done. Not awkward at all, The Ball was ALWAYS happy to hang out with him when asked. "That's a big help. I've been absoloutly mobbed by underclassmen this week and I may have told one of them I was taking you. I hope you don't mind."

Riz's expression faltered a bit, tail slowing in its happy waving as he thought about what Fabian just said. "Wait... you're asking me to come to Prom with you because the underclassmen were annoying you?"

"Yes, I paniced when they asked who I was going with and I figured you probably didn't have a date. Probably more fun to go with someone as friends anyway."

"Oh... as friends. Yeah, we can go as friends." His tail stopped completely, settling into a neautral position behind him. Hand coming up to wipe at one of his eyes under his glasses before he took them off completely. Heel of his palm swiping at the corner of his eye as it started watering. "Ah fuck, sorry. Um, eyelash in my eye need a mirror. Gotta go. I'll talk to you later yeah?"

Fabian gave him a friendly wave as the rogue literally dashed in the direction of the closest bathroom. Kristen finally coming over from where she'd been TOTALLY not evesdropping further down the hallway and startling him by grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a rough shake.

"Yooooou idiot. You have fucked UP." Kristen gave Fabian another rough shake "WHY? Why would you confirm its a date then backpedal into going as friends and only because your other options were annoying you. Gods help me you're dumb."

[dujour13]

Owlcatober 3. Shelter

---

When the Worldwound weather blew into Kenabres you wasted no time going to ground. Big, sticky droplets hit the cobbles and you hit the nearest shelter before it turned into bugs, eyeballs, or even intestines like that one time—best not thought about.

Woljif ducked through a broken window into the basement of an abandoned tenement and stood in the musty darkness peering out at rapidly forming puddles of viscous crimson. Fed up with this place. When he managed to scrape up the funds he was on a boat to Katapesh and never looking back.

“You found me!”

He nearly jumped out of his boots. “What the—”

He whirled. It was the crazy elf beggar, clapping her hands and laughing like some kinda mad fey.

“Oh. It’s you.” He peered suspiciously into the darkness over her shoulder. “Anybody else here?”

“Just Soot.” The crow hopped about on the floor, pecking at things.

He relaxed a modicum. Be no good getting caught in here with some of the characters he rubbed elbows with around Kenabres. She might be loony but she wasn’t dangerous, at least. He slumped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, tail weaving, and sullenly watched the blood course between the cobbles.

But she wasn’t giving up.

“Now it’s your turn to hide!”

He glanced her way briefly and then back out at the rain. Those scars weren’t fit for looking at. “I ain’t a kid no more.”

“I know. But at least now your Gran can’t get you in trouble for playing with me.”

This evoked unpleasant memories of pinched ears. He sighed in annoyance, tail beginning to twitch. “I got more important things to do.”

“Grown-ups always say that. And then the important things they do just make them and everyone around them sad. I don’t understand.” She came closer and sat down cross-legged on the packed dirt floor with her rags and her filthy bare feet, and looked up at him with those uncanny liquid black eyes.

“I ain’t sad. Anyway the important stuff I gotta do is gonna make me rich. And when I’m rich, I’ll be happy.”

“Rich people aren’t happy. There’s a Count I see sometimes in the city square. He’s rich and handsome and he has lots of friends. He laughs loudly, but he’s the saddest of all.”

“Well, I can guarantee you when I’m rich I’ll be laughin’ for real, and you can bank on that.”

A thump from overhead made him start up and stare at the ceiling, from which a soft rain of dust sifted down. He cocked his head, trying to listen over the splashing of the blood rain.

“It’s just—” the beggar girl began.

“Sh. Is there people here?”

“Yes.”

“I thought this place was abandoned.”

“I see people come and go sometimes,” she shrugged. “At night.”

“At ni—what kinda people?”

“I don’t know. They wear hoods.”

“Cultists.” He turned his head and spat. “We gotta get outta here.”

“What’s wrong with cultists?”

“They’re dangerous, that’s what’s wrong.”

“Cultists, crusaders, they’re all the same,” she said.

Shit. She was right. No sense arguing with a nutcase. He reached out for her hand. “Come on.”

“But it’s still raining.” She got to her feet anyway, maybe just because it was nice to hold his hand for a moment.

He pulled it away. “I don’t care, we gotta hightail it. Now.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Neither am I! I just—I just think we ougtta find somewhere else nicer.”

“You can go if you want. I’ll stay here.”

Woljif sighed. “Aright listen. I’ll play hide-and-seek with you. But you gotta hide somewhere good. Not in here.” Indeed, the place was barren but for scattered broken glass and splintered boards. No hiding places.

“I’m gonna count to ten and you—”

“Twenty!”

“Aright, twenty. You get goin’.”

He kept counting, muffling his voice with a hand so she wouldn’t realize he followed her to the window and watched her run off down the alley splashing through puddles of blood and laughing, her stupid crow gliding after her.

When he was satisfied, he too crept out the window and headed down the alley in the opposite direction.

“Loony,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Musta cooked her brains.” But he had to admit if he had to get caught in a bloodstorm it felt strangely… cozy to end up holed up with someone who wasn’t trying to rip him off or push him around. Someone familiar and harmless. Someone who knew what it was like. He glanced back over his shoulder, and then shrugged his jacket up around his horns and hurried off.

also on AO3

[wareagleofthemountain]

Yule ❄️

A/N: Before anyone comes for me in the comment section… yes I know it’s June. But I’m trying to clean out my WIP folder and this is what I got for now. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Prince Nuada x fem!elf reader

The snow flurried outside, falling atop the roof in soft pitter-patters which was drown out by the crackling fire beside you. You had made a nest on the couch, complete with silken cushions stolen from King Balor’s study and one of Princess Nuala’s soft, heavy blankets. In your hand was a mug of hot tea, and your pointed ears folded back slightly as you relaxed further.

“Well, don’t you look as cozy as a bug in a rug there.” Nuala smiled fondly as she entered the sitting room. “I made these delightful cookies called gingerbread men. Found the recipe in a human cookbook my father had collecting dust on his shelves. Apparently it’s a tradition this time of year. You must try one!”

She held the steaming tray out to you, Nuada reaching over her shoulder and swiping one only to bite its head clean off.

Of course

“The human looks much better this way.” Nuada smirked, holding out the decapitated cookie.

Nuala squeaked in horror, eyes wide. “Oh stop it you beast!”

You laugh, taking a cookie for yourself and humming in satisfaction as it melted in your mouth.

“How are you my love?” Nuada’s voice is smooth as he slides in beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. A smile lights up your face and you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

“Better now that you’re here…” You mumble into his soft skin, sighing happily as you breathe in his scent, a faint mixture of pine and subtle notes of the tangy substance he used to polish his weapons. “I’m so happy to spend our first Yule here together….” Your voice is wistful as you watch the falling snow.

Nuada’s eyes are fixed on you, admiring the way your golden hair shines in the fire light. He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips softly. “As am I. I…” His cheeks flushed and his voice trailed off, much like a boy with his first crush. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” You shake your head slightly. “Nuada, you didn’t have to. I already told you that spending the holiday with you was enough.”

Your voice was earnest, insistent, but Nuada stops your protests by gently cradling your face in his large palms. “Hush, my light. I want to do this.” The Prince kisses your forehead before reaching into the pocket of his robe and pulling out a blue box neatly wrapped in a yellow ribbon. “In honor of our first Yule. The first of many, my love.”

You take the package in trembling hands, breath catching as you open it and see the golden bracelet inside. There were two elegantly crafted charms dangling from the arm band; two golden leaves meant to symbolize you and Nuada.

“It’s beautiful!” You cry out, flinging your arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. Nuada’s hand came up to cup the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, leaving you sighing blissfully.

“Here.” He clasped the bracelet onto your arm and pulled you in again. “Regretfully, dearest, we must go. Father’s hosting a feast in the main banquet hall and I promised him I wouldn’t let Mr. Wink eat all of the pie.”

You giggle as he pulls you up. “Good luck with that one. Hey, maybe there’ll be more gingerbread humans there eh?”

Nuada scoffs and you laugh harder. Merry Yuletide indeed.

[fumifooms]

i know you aren't really into marcille/laios any longer, but since you went looking online for dungeon meshi doujins, did you happen to find any other marcille/laios ones? (funnily enough at the convention i was at a couple weeks back they had like five, but they were extremely over-exaggerated and personally i prefer my fan content relatively in character...)

Ok first of all: Yeah listen laimar doesn’t have a grip on me anymore but I still quite enjoy it! Just more passively… Altho I do have an analysis that focuses a lot on the importance they hold to each other in my early stage wips drafts, and listen in canon I do think they’re queerplatonic flavored, call me an ot3 qpr truther because Laios Marcille and Falin have a something going on and it transcends being put into a box. But hey hey I reblog laimar artworks I bought that recent doujin I put laimar fics in my -checks- 106 pages long to-read list… Also I have like 5 pages of fanfic prompts for them I may or may not get to writing. Though yeah I do feel bad whenever I notice people following after liking all my laimar posts haha

Sadly to get to the meat of the topic, not really… I don’t go to cons for lack of opportunity so whatever I find is through online. The one I got is The Fourth Basement Floor, it has an english ver and seems so so very in character I can’t wait to get it! Otherwise I’ve looked on Otakurepublic & Doujinrepublic since I use their services for merch from Japan, warning if you click on the link, there are 18+ ones and covers can be pretty explicit. I don’t remember any other laimar one except the one nsfw one I think, but on the plus side there are a lot of gen no ships doujins. I’m bothered because looking back I feel like the catalogue of doujins was wider when I looked all those months ago and it feels like I’m forgetting something hmm… I wish I could help more, but yeah 😔 Pixiv has many laimar comics up (in japanese) if that sates the hunger any

As consolation since I’m already here, why not show some of my laimar things laying around gathering dust I’m fond of. Don’t look if you don’t want to be spoiled for fics I may or may not write I guess? All down below is just laimar prompts

I spoke about some various ones and esp my timeline where she gets him into Daltian Clan here. "Laios… I was wondering, because you enjoy fantasy stories right? I was wondering if you’d like to give my favorite book series a go… It has monsters!" I love love love post-canon laimar where he gets the habit of chewing on her hair because he’s stimming and hungry. Like a goat.

Laios goes to Marcille for love advice.  "You like someone?! Do I know them?" She eagerly asked. "Erm… Yes…?" // Post-canon. He’s so nervous and puts his foot in his mouth n lets things slip out that he thought would give him away. (Comic) "You like someone??! What are they like? Who are they?" And he’s like "Well… She’s a half-elf." He’s like shit she’ll probably know right away. And she goes still. "I’ve never met another half-elf!! We’re so rare! You’re saying you met one and didn’t tell me???!" She’s shaking him. And then she goes still again, contempt drawing on her face. "Wait… Are you asking me for advice because I’m a half-elf?" Laios runs with it "Yes!! And because you’re so savvy with romance and what people like…? If, uh, if you were a half-elf, what would you like to get as a gift? What sort of confession would you want?" "… You saved it there. Okay so since I’m so knowledgeable on romance, tell me what is she like?" "-describes Marcille-" She nods, smug yet oblivious. "Aah I can already tell we’d be great friends. Good taste." (then Thinking bubble with him giving her flowers at a restaurant "Did you know roses are edible and used in recipes", candlelit dinner, or wait maybe the most romantic is cooking together alone at home, chocolate! It’s expensive though… Wait I’m king now!)

Lil comic, Laios wakes up snuggled against Marcille’s back then promptly falls off the bed. The noise makes Marcille wake up and she’s like omg are u ok?? Laios is so sweaty and panicked and in denial about her being special to him.  She explains, disgruntled at the memory "Izutsumi is bunking in with Chilchuck again, they’re taking the whole bedrolls." Pause. "Sorry, I should have told you, but you like sleeping with Izutsumi too so I figured…" She looked sheepish. "Between you and Senshi, I much prefer sleeping with you. It feels sort of nostalgic, like a sleepover, no?" He relaxes and gets in the bed again, smiling. "But… We’ve never had a sleepover?" She chuckles "I guess not. I must be getting that impression because of Falin…" And the air between them is warm yet bittersweet now, as she smiles like that and his eyes and smile cloud over. The earlier instinctive reluctance to touch is gone now. She snuggles into his arms and is like "Hug me?" "Okay." And he does, wraps his arms around her and tucks his chin over her head.

Post canon, marcille takes him to a squid restaurant. Cute lighthearted hehe. He sulks "If there are any parasites in this I will ban squid from this kingdom or so help me…"

Short post canon fluff marcille pov about laios gaining weight n becoming chubby. She used to dream of chiseled abs and angular elves, laios in every way, shape and form is so far from the beauty standards she idealized so. And yet… She loves how soft sleeping against him is, how much there’s more of him for her to hug and nuzzle her face in. She loves seeing him and seeing someone strong, who isn’t malnourished or underweight, someone healthy with color in their skin. An healthy appetite. He used to look more like a rectangle, severe and strict, but now he looked rounder, and seeing him smile at her always made her feel like that roundness suited him. She smiled back, and melted thinking about how her boyfriend was the sweetest in the world. ^I still wanna do this one really bad. Sometimes a fic premise comes from nowhere and puts you in a chokehold and you must finish it to obtain catharsis

Short oneshot about laios musing about Marcille’s smile, how important it is to him in subtle ways etc: Ends with Laios being like wait there’s something off (succubus). Then he grabbed her throat. Or smth

Laios seeing her dungeon like "this is so wrong Marcille you can’t run a dungeon for shit" and also "WHAT ARE THESE HORRORS OF MONSTERS NOO THEY CAN’T BE EFFECTIVE LIKE THAT"

Dinner for two: Very warm. Marcille and Laios are meeting up and cooking a dinner just for them both, no one else is there. They’re being so domestic and it’s light. Laios pauses at some point, doing the dishes, saying… I’ve always worried, thinking doing things like these would remind me of my parents.

Laios doesn’t know what to do when he realizes he actually *likes* likes Marcille, so he avoids her. Everyone notices and is disapproving of him.

Her mana acts up and she shares her dream with someone, kinda like with Izutsumi. Listen the premise could be smutty but I think it’d be more fun if they just hanged out n were silly, like the nightmares chapter without the nightmare

Laimar pining but from the view of Chilchuck, his love hatred sensing a storm brewing. The giggling, the looks. Ugh! It reminded him of himself and his wife when they were young and newly dating.

I love Laios and Izu being worsties so. Laios sees izutsumi rubbing her scent on marcille’s clothes and gets possessive. Maybe Golden Kingdom maybe something else I have no clue but Laios being ridiculous and cheek rubbing or something <3

I might want to do an AU where Laios gets into werebeast ring fighting, before canon and the split happens after he deserts the military. So he’s alone, has nothing going for him and stumbles into that sphere and gets werebeast tattoos done. It doesn’t make him happier at all and fighting sucks actually, but it brings money and he likes being a beast and being cheered by a crowd aka illusion of being liked, and money brings food and eating is the privilege of the living etc etc. So then when he goes to check on Falin at the academy it’s a big AU where he has a whole other reputation and look to him, and when he meets izutsumi their relationship is different and aaaaaa… He’s freeer in this au, lets himself be animalistic and weird, even though ofc the arc is him letting himself be more human as well and connecting with humans, through talking and infodumping n shit. Oh I went off but the laimar is because it’s inspired by cool laimar art here (warning tho it’s an art dump with toudencest also 😔) but werewolf Laios laimar AUs… A lotta fun stuff there idk idk

[faeriichaii]

hiii i have a request only if you're up for it! a legolas x reader and reader teases legolas and his sensitive ears during an important event and he takes it out on you (spicy? smut if you're up for it :)

love your fics sm <333

Keep Quiet ~ Legolas x F!Elf!Reader

A/N: OMG!! I kinda have been waiting for a smut request haha!! It's just I rarely write any smut so it is always nice to see someone request it cause this also makes me uhh idk get used to writing it?? But yeah I finally finished the request and I really hope you like it <33 I also might edit it later cause rn it is very late and I am very tired but I still wanna publish smth so... ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Smut (MDNI), Unprotected sex, Fingering, bj, ass slapping ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 2.0 k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: You seem to have teased your husband Legolas a little too long during one important meeting, so he teaches you a lesson.

Bored. You felt utterly bored, as you listened in on Lord Elronds conversation with Legolas father about some trading contract each of them approved. Being Legolas wife has it perks but you definitely despise the lengthy business meetings you have to attend. And your attendance is required regularly. As Thranduil once said, you are not just part of their family now, but also have to shoulder the burden of being the queen at some time in your lengthy life. Back then you smiled at the elven king and nodded. You didn’t expect to become queen anytime soon either. But neither did you expect him to get Legolas to drag you to every official meeting in Mirkwood. “It is good for you to learn all about our relationships with the several leaders of the various different lands.” Thranduil once said to you, after he caught you yawn after several hours of listening about potential war strategies.

A hand on your thigh justled you out of your memories. Legolas gave you a smile, as he leaned closer to you. “We are almost through Meleth Nin. Only an hour more and they should sign the papers.” Another hour? Sighing at his words you gave him a pained smile. Your eyes wandered from the elven king of Mirkwood towards Lord Elrond. You knew this would take even longer than that. How could you sit around and do nothing for another hour or two? “Legolas, would it be alright for your father if I could leave for a few minutes? Just to take a quick breather.” You whispered in his ear. His grip on your leg tightened and he began to shift around in his seat beside you. “Are you alright Meleth Nin?” “Of course I just-“ You raised an eyebrow at him. He definitely did not look quite alright. He looked rather… uncomfortable. “I don’t think my father would approve.”

Tilting your head to the side, you continued to study his side profile. A soft rosy colour dusted the tips of his ears, as well as his cheeks. Suddenly, realization dawned upon you. “Are you sure that is the reason behind you being so… skittish right now?” Your warm breath fanned over his pointy ear and you felt his body shiver, as you let your hand gently rest on his leg. Drawing circles on his thigh, you leaned closer towards him. “I don’t need a break anymore, so don’t worry about it my love.” The elven prince noticed the flirtatious undertone in your voice and gave you a warning glance. “(Y/N) please. You can’t do this to me right now. This is an important meeting and-“ A shuddered sigh left his lips, as your finger traced his ear with a feather light touch. “Hmm? Is everything alright darling?” You asked him sweetly, trying to scoot closer to your husband.

“Lord Elrond and your father are still discussing about the best travel route in order for the goods to arrive safely. The same topic since hours so why don’t you just lean back and let me have some fun hmm?” Legolas face turned towards you, his glare igniting a fire deep inside your core. He was mad. And you just got turned on. His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from his ear. “You don’t want to continue playing this game (Y/N). Trust me.” A smirk graced your lips. “Is this a challenge Meleth Nin?”

Suddenly Legolas jumped up from his place at the table. Both of the lords turned their attention from the map at the table to the elven prince, confusion written upon both their faces. Even you were surprised. “Father, I must apologies, but I just remembered that me and my wife have another important event to attend to.” Thranduil looked his son up and down, before letting his gaze wander over you. You expected him to decline (probably due to the tension between you), but instead he approved. “Both of you shall leave, but make sure this… accident doesn’t happen a second time.” And with those parting words you were dragged out of the room by Legolas.

His grip on your wrist tightened as he sped across the hall towards your shared bedroom. “Legolas slow down I-“ “You want me to slow down? I bet you won’t say that again anytime soon.” Heat kissed your cheeks at the insinuation of his words. God you just wanted to tease him a bit but you definitely did not expect this outcome. Legolas stopped walking, just to open the door, drag you inside and lock it afterwards. His back was turned towards you. Watching his shoulders rise up and down you slowly approached him. “I told you to listen, didn’t I?” “Legolas I-“ Suddenly he spun around. “You didn’t listen though, did you now?” A shiver went down your spine at his deep voice. His gaze travelled from your face all over your body which made heat pool in your lower region. “You acted very poorly and improper for the future queen you know?” You nodded your head at his words. “I apologize my prince.” “You think that is enough to satisfy me?” He said, slowly approaching you. Legolas eyed you like a predator about to devour his pray. Oh, and how you would indulge in him devouring you. You need him. You want him.

“What can I do to make up for my mistakes?” “For one, how about I fill your pretty mouth.” Legolas stood in front of you, his finger grazing along your jaw. The touch alone set you ablaze like oil touching a flame. He tilted your face up towards him. “Does that sound good to you?” You nodded your head once more in approval. “Good.” And with that his mouth was upon yours. His mouth was hot and needy upon your own, tongues dancing with each other. A moan escaped your lips at the sweet relieve of the built-up tension. Legolas hand moved from your face to the back of your head to gather your hair in his fist. Pain spread from your scalp as he yanked your head bag by your strands, his mouth immediately trailing kisses along your exposed neck. Your hands racked over his upper body, unbuttoning his shirts and letting them fall off over his shoulders. Fingers trailing over his exposed skin, you followed every line and ridge of his body, until you stopped at his waistband.

“Get on your knees.” Legolas voice had a needy edge to it, as he began to gently shove you down, his hand never letting loose of your hair. Getting comfortable on the ground, you bit your lip at the obvious tent in his pants. Instantly you grabbed for his belt, loosened it and got rid of his trousers for him. “Open up.” Your mouth did as he ordered you to and in just a mere second his cock was between your lips. Sucking on it you watched his reaction through your eyelashes. His head was thrown back as soft pants escaped him. You let your tongue glide over his veins before pulling back and letting it slide over his slit. A hiss came from Legolas parted lips. His grip around your hair tightened. Suddenly, he pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, making you gag around him. Spit spilled out of the side of your mouth, as you tried to relax your throat in order to deepthroat his cock as much as possible. Your fingers moved from his hips towards your pussy, craving your own relieve. “Don’t you dare touch yourself.” Legolas said in-between pants. He moaned as a whine left your lips and sent a vibrating sensation through his lower region.

Pulling out, he grabbed your arms and lifted you from the ground. His hands found your chin, tilted your face towards his and gave you a kiss. His tongue fought with your own while he began to strip you out of the dress you wore for the meeting. Your nipples hardened under the cold air and he wasted no time in rolling them between his fingers. Your back arched at the pleasant feeling of finally feeling his touch upon you. His mouth moved from your lips down to your left tit. Your hands twisted in his long blonde hair, playing with the braids you did earlier today. Heat radiated from both of your bodies, as he let go of your nipple with a pop and stood up to his full height once more. “Now I want you to keep your mouth shut, okay?” An approval couldn’t even pass your lips, before you found yourself upon your bed, face down and ass up. “Show me how long you can keep your dirty lips sealed.”

A pleasant shiver went down your spine, as you felt his finger glide through your lips. Gripping the bedsheet, you turned your head to the side. “Legolas I need you please.” You whispered while glancing behind you. His finger brushed over your clit, making you bite your lip in order to keep quiet. You tried to scoot towards his hand, but his other hand kept your body down by your neck. “You already failed to keep quiet but you still want to get rewarded?” He slowly entered one of his fingers into your pussy but almost immediately retracted it. A needy whine passed your lips. “So greedy.” Legolas said, before entering two of his fingers and slowly pumping them at a steady pace. Your grip on the sheets tightened, as you tried to wriggle around his fingers. You want more. You need more. But you were in luck, because just after a few pumps, you could already feel the head of his cock at your entrance. “I want to see your pussy suck in my cock exactly how they greedily took in my fingers.”

And with that he pushed inside you. Your mouth opened to let out a silent moan, as you felt the stretch of his cock inside you. His hands gripped your hips harshly, before he began to move in a steady rhythm. It was hard to keep quite while his cock filled you to the brim, but neither would you want to lose his warmth inside of you. Pants mixed with the sound of skin slapping filled the quietness of the room. A moan escaped through your parted lips and was soon replaced with a surprised yelp, as you felt the harsh sting of a slap on your ass. “Your misbehaviour can’t stay unpunished now, can it?” You nodded in agreement with him. God how you loved getting punished by him. Meeting his hips halfway through each thrust, you felt the knot inside of you tighten, as well as the twitch of your husband’s cock inside of you.

“You take it so well Meleth Nin.” A sudden harsh thrust forced another moan out of your mouth, followed by another pleasant sting on your ass cheek. His hand gently traced over the red handprint. “I have a feeling that you almost like getting punished.” He let his finger trail down to your clit and drew gentle circles over it. Heat washed over your entire body, as you felt your climax approach faster and faster. Your walls clenched more tightly around his cock while the pressure of his finger on your clit increased. “Oh my god Legolas I-“ Another slap echoed through the room, followed by a whine from your lips, as the sweet relieve of your climax washed over you. Your walls clenching around his cock was all he needed, before filling you up with his cum. His release was followed by a few sloppy thrusts, before he pulled out, got onto the bed beside you and circled his arms around you in a warm embrace. A few minutes of purse silence passed between the both of you.

“Was it too much?” Legolas suddenly asked you. “No, of course not Meleth Nin. I might even consider teasing you more often during the meetings.” You reassured him, wrapping your own arms around him and falling asleep in his arms.

[chloessleepystories]

A Year with Santa Claus

How many references can you find to favorite holiday stories?

I was lying on the couch in the living room Christmas Eve, laptop on my tummy, all the lights out except the lights from the tree. It was pretty. It was peaceful. It was boring.

But at least it was quiet – my younger siblings were nestled all snug in their beds, while mama in her kerchief and dad in his saggy tightie-whities were settled in for their long winter’s siesta after six glasses of cheap Walgreens wine. I was browsing dirty hypno Tumblr on my laptop and getting progressively hornier, so I shucked off my sweatpants and started stroking.

When suddenly I heard a jingling and a twinkling on the roof, as of the prancing and pawing of little hooves. And then, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a shower of soot on the floor, and the fireplace full of Santa Claus himself.

My long pale bare legs splayed, my sweatshirt hoisted up over one small teenage boob, and my sticky fingers covering my crotch, I must have been a sight. But all I said was: “I’m not cleaning that up.”

I guess it takes a lot to surprise Santa. His mouth hung open for a minute or two, but he quickly recovered – dropping his sack of toys and fumbling with his big belt buckle.

“Do we have time for this?” I whispered.

“Silly child,” he said. “Time is never an issue.” He threw a handful of gold dust in the air and instantly, time seemed to stand still. The clock stopped between ticks. The sprinkles settled on my bare body, and on my face, and tingled wherever they hit. I mindlessly slid forward off the couch and onto my knees, as a wave of peace and joy warmed my mind and hardened my nipples. He pulled my sweatshirt off as I gazed up at him, completely naked, my smile spreading as he stripped off his furs.

I gotta say, I was expecting an old fat man – a right jolly old elf – but I have been MISINFORMED, y’all. Turns out Santa is big, yes, but it’s almost all muscle. And he’s a silver fox – silver hair, short silver beard … with tattoos … “NICE” on his left forearm, and “NAUGHTY” on his right. And his name isn’t actually Santa, it turns out – but Sander…

His cock was impressive, majestic, and it tasted like cinnamon. His precum was like frosting, so sweet – undoubtedly from all the cookies. I sucked and slurped as he stroked my hair, and moved gently in and out of my mouth. It felt so good to serve him, to please him … then he picked me up as if I weighed nothing, and settled my dripping cunny on the head of his cock.

“It’s so warm!” I whispered. “It’s like you’re burning me up from the inside!”

Sander grinned, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “That’s me,” he said. “I’m Mr Hundred-and-One.”

He used me like a toy, but gently and lovingly, filling me so full with every thrust. He lay me back down on the carpeting, under the tree, and I looked up at all the pretty lights, in a daze, as he pumped into me for what seemed like hours … until finally Santa came down my chimney. Again and again, he came down my chimney.

I lay there panting as he dressed all in his furs again. I wasn’t sure if I could form words. When he knelt beside me, I whimpered like a broken doll. “Do you have to go?”

He smiled, shaking his head, and took out a sprig of mistletoe from his coat pocket. He held it over me. “I’m taking you back to my workshop, my dear. I’ll fix you up there … then I’ll bring you back here …” He broke a mistletoe berry under my nose. My eyes rolled back, and in an instant I was unconscious.

The next year passed by in a blur, a candy-colored, peppermint-flavored haze of sex and sweets. (If it was only a year – but I had my doubts about that. It seemed like it was always “nearly Christmas” around Sander and his people, and it was a perpetual aura of excitement plus exhaustion.) Time ceased to have any meaning. I learned to serve the elves. I made cookies with Mrs Claus – a process she enjoyed very much. And the things I ate and drank filled me with Christmas cheer, in different ways.

Some chocolates seemed to chip away at my intelligence. Some fruitcake seemed to leave me in a drugged-out blissful stupor for hours. Sometimes I seemed sharp and alert, but the only thing I could think of were the Christmas carols playing over and over in my mind, accompanying thoughts of various sex acts.

“Try some of this,” Mrs Claus would say as we cooked and baked together in her kitchen … And I would find myself licking the sugar from her hands, then sucking on her fingers, then going down on her snatch of silver-and-gold.

“Look into my eyes,” Sander would say, and I would gaze into his eyes for a while, smelling his breath of peppermint and pipe tobacco, but somehow not hearing the words he spoke into my unresisting ears … until I would awaken with “NAUGHTY” choking my throat,  just a little bit, while “NICE” was kneading and stroking my sex.

I was his favorite toy. He loved finding new games to play with me, to make me entertain him, or the others … or to make me happy. One of his favorites was turning me into a snowman. “There must be some magic in this hat I found,” he would say, then he would plop it on my head, and I would instantly freeze. He and the Missus would play with my body, and it would respond, but I could barely feel it – I was nearly numb, and the arousal would be far away. No matter what, I couldn’t cum. My eyes would leak in my frustration, but I couldn’t move, and could barely feel, a frozen snowman … until they removed the hat. Then everything would flood back into my body at once, and I would scream and shake and almost pass out from the explosion inside every cell.

Once, Sander hypnotized me into believing I was one of the reindeer. My name was Olive … Olive the other reindeer. He took a red thread, and he tied some antlers to the top of my head, then he led me into the stables. He left me there for hours … playing all the reindeer games.

I ate sweets and I breathed magic. I learned … I grew … I changed. My ass rounded and my breasts filled out as I grew older, more womanly, no longer a teenager. The elves would use my body for hours, as if they had never seen someone as tall as me, never had access to sexual partners before … as if they needed the practice. I loved letting the elves practice on me, my holes, my tits … it was like being swarmed by sex-starved puppies, and I loved it.

But the day finally came when Sander told me he needed to send me back to the world. It was almost Christmas again … though whether it was the same Christmas I had left, or the next one, or any other Christmas, I neither knew nor cared. I wept, and Father Christmas held me close. “I will always know when you’re sleeping, and when you’re awake,” he whispered. “I’ll know if you’ve been bad or good – so be good and naughty.”

“Yes Daddy,” I nodded, sniffling.

He touched my tears, with wonder and concern. “What’s this? What’s this?”

I sniffled.

“Santa baby?” I asked. “Could I make one wish, this Christmas?”

I could, and I did. I wished not to go back to my family, but a different one. He even let me pick one out. It took some time, and some research, but it was worth it.

Then, when I was finally ready, he gave me a cup of hot cocoa. I sipped it, then felt the sugar plums and fairy music swell. “Say … what’s in that drink,” I murmured as I lost consciousness.

So … here I am. Under the tree, dressed in lingerie and a cute little Santa hat – switched “off,” ready to be turned on by love and Christmas magic when the family come downstairs in the morning.

I picked a kind looking widower named Bob, who had to raise several kids on his own. The youngest, Tim, is sickly, but has made it to age 18, and I know I can make him, and his brothers, and their father, all happy. It gives me sexual pleasure to serve… so I’ll cook, and clean, and bake the best cookies they’ve ever had – and fulfill their sexual fantasies too. Sander even left instructions and trigger words for some of the games we’ve played, and modes he’s installed. I know I can make them all very happy.

I will miss elf practice, though.