#i am also rereading the book... a SICKNESS

[true-bluesargent]

lara jean really said you can't kiss me or anything but hey if you want you can put your hand on my ass

[rowanisawriter]

there is banter. And sexual tension between gabriel and satan in paradise lost i fear

[usmsgutterson]

one thing about me is that I will write nearly everyday of the week and yet not pick up a book for weeks at a time

[panb1mbo]

rereading my copy of twilight and i've come to realize i actually dislike bella and edward so much dear lord sweet jesus they annoy me so fucking much but that said, robert pattison did a great job idk if he read the source material but he nailed angsty 17 year old piss baby so well

[vanweezer]

need to say one thing follow me walk with me

teotfw: book > show

ianowt: show > book

[29121996]

.

[lucrezianoin]

Astarion-centric fics recs (49 fanfics)

I will divide them by ship. They are all complete unless specified. Also, if a fic is not here it does not mean that I did not like it, I could have forgotten it or just not seen it given that there is a lot of Astarion content!

Just make sure to read all the tags warnings when you open the AO3 page. I added the non-ship focused but Cazador focused ones at the end.

Also it feels weird to rec my own fics, but in case you want to read astarion h/c I am writing you can find me here at LadyRagnelle (for now all DarkUrge or Tav/Astarion).

Regarding if this reclist might be useful for you... there are a lot of Astarion fics, a lot of tags used and a lot of preferences! I have a very particular preference for a specific kind of fic (h/c, whump, softness, mainly) and in the case of Astarion I tend to not read nsfw, usually. So if you have been around my blog and you think we might share fics preferences... maybe these are the fics for you too! I will update this post with time.

I am trying to add a small description to all the fics, but I prioritized adding the links, so some of them do not have a description yet, but they were beloved in my bookmarks.

GEN (no ship)

Prying eyes (unsupermarket) - One of my absolute favorite. Karlach and Astarion share one of Astarion's nightmares (thanks to the tadpoles).

Reflecting endless down the hall (Asidian) - Each chapter is dedicated to one of the companions and the way they interact with Astarion, each chapter connected to a part of his past and trauma.

TAV (OR DARK URGE)/ASTARION

After all that I can do for them is done (votiveviscera)

To Aid and be aided (Beppoberry) - Post Cazador, taking care of each other.

Between the lines (Slothquisitor) - Amazing story about Tav gifting Astarion books.

Broken mechanism (laquearia) - Character study on Astarion's "Don't touch me".

Copper blood and silver hearts (netherprince)

The darkest corner of Baldur's Gate (Nebulad)

(Don't) lose your head (CL34R)

Don't you hear me praying? (ridgeline) - Short haunting story about Astarion's trauma.

And his pretty hand hold my leash (osiris_ryes) - one of the few nsfw fics in this rec list. This has some amazing Dark Urge writing and manages to use nsfw scene without ignoring the consent issues present in the game.

Hold me without hurting (fairbutnotsomaiden) - Astarion disassociates, Tav is kind.

I could feel my life begin (Flowercitti)

I have a good place to hide (Flowercitti)

I know how this will end (MyFandomCausesHanaji) - Amazing Dark Urge story about Durge trying to stop themselves from killing Astarion - and reliving the same day over and over.

A long dead pulse (enthugger) - Post-Cazador, Tav takes care of Astarion.

Made / Unmade (Adaphyl)

Mortal shortfall (titasylase) - Giving a gift to Astarion + act 1 angst, perfect combination.

Not something that I was but what I played (WitchyBee)

Out of wine and flowers (enthugger)

Porcelain (cweepa) - Astarion is sick, and he really cares about how he looks. Absolutely stunning story full of very delicate hurt/comfort and angst. I've reread this so many times.

Savages (cweepa) - Astarion finds a kitten.

Seducere (Tlon) - This is THE fanfic. I remember waiting every night for the new chapter. It narrates Astarion's past and his present in the game. Heartbreaking and haunting.

Specter (justfortune) - post game fanfic about Tav and Astarion's new life together, with some interesting concepts about personal space and sharing life.

Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream (Flowercitti) - I love Flowercitti's stories so so much. This one is specifically about consent. Please, read all their fics.

Vanity items (Flowyen) - Incomplete fic, but still amazing. Just Astarion receiving genuine compliments.

You only feel it when it’s lost (gettin’ through still has a cost) (Flowercitti) - Flowercitti's Tav takes care of Astarion after Cazador.

The way you are (imprinted on a page) (cryptidvaquero) - Tav draws Astarion as a gift.

Was it something you ate (Anoke)

Water down what I call being grateful (Flowercitti) - This fic was written for one of my prompts. I will be eternally grateful because I love stories that deal with looking right through Astarion's seductions.

HALSIN/ASTARION

Animal I have become (Ulfrsmal)

Free (Faetality)

Handmande (BerlinBelin) - One of my favourite, absolutely stunning series about touch starved Astarion trying to ask (with difficulty) fo non-sexual intimacy.

Known in its aching (BerlinBerlin) - sick fic with so much tenderness.

Never gonna fall for (modern love) (Dwinkle) - Halsin offers Astarion his blood.

Through sneers and words snide (BerlinBelin)

HALSIN/TAV/ASTARION

Working on it (casswathever) - Very well written series with multiple fics, I particularly loved the relationship discussions.

WYLL/ASTARION

To die with you (WaterSeraphim)

A dream of sweet things (Asidian) - delicious h/c, trust issues and some nightmares too.

Innocence died screaming (Flowercitti) - Wyllstarion fic that starts from Astarion's past with Cazador, from his turning into a spawn. Ongoing.

KARLACH/ASTARION

Repairs (Asidian) - Heartbreakingly angsty fic about Karlach finding her touch again and Astarion expecting their first night to go a certain way.

The Things you miss (Asidian) - A very sweet fic about Karlach and Astarion interacting.

ASTARION/SEBASTIAN

A lyric on your tongue (justfortune) - Sebastian and Astarion meet.

GALE/ASTARION

The heat is only skin deep (ThatKorka)

POLY

Sharing (Asidian) - a touch of angst, touch starved characters, act 1 spoilers so slightly present consent issues.

CAZADOR-FOCUSED (no secondary ship)

Fake it (deerna)

Lost and never found (arenathesia)

Thou art mine (sophos) - The story of Astarion learning how to keep Cazador happy.

your reflection can't offer a word (to the bliss of not knowing yourself) (undermounts)

[olenvasynyt]

Top 3 most controversial acotar takes/opinions, now☄️

Uh nooooo only my top three? Alrighty. These are going to be very harsh:

1. I have read the ACOTAR series at least 3 times since 2021 and I very often skim chapters every week for posts and videos. And I will be fully honest, I never want to reread the series ever again because of Feyre. I dislike her biases, her hypocrisy, her habit of ignoring other people’s POVs and the mistakes she’s made. I hate her excuses and her blindness and selfishness and how she treats everyone who is not in the IC. I hate how she treats Tamlin and Lucien. I physically cannot reread ACOWAR without flinching at all of the stuff she does, ESPECIALLY her taking down Spring out of revenge. I do not like her as an FMC and I’m glad we have moved past her story and onto other characters.

2. I think the fanbase’s hatred for Tamlin is so extreme and it is heavily influenced by Feyre’s own biases, as well as stupid memes on tiktok. If you take a second to look at the story from Tamlin’s perspective, you can easily understand his actions. With Hybern, EVERYONE FORGETS THAT 1. He was not part of the Archeron Sister’s kidnapping, that was Ianthe. It’s literally explained by Hybern in the book. And 2. He was playing as a double agent, which is hinted at many many times and it is something we later discover. I would go into it more but I feel like that’s its own post that many people have made before.

3. I don’t think SJM is the best writer. I know writers can retcon, especially in huge series like this, but she uses retconning as a crutch, and it’s very frustrating. She has so many inconsistencies and plot holes and inconveniences that personally bother me. I think her world building in ACOTAR is so flat and not thought out at all, and her magic system is even worse. Most of her villains, not just in ACOTAR but in her other series, are not that good idk. She also has a habit of the typical villain monologue that I am getting so sick of and I literally skip the part of the human queen during the Blood Rite because I think it’s so badly written 😭😂

And here’s some random ones just for fun with no to little explanation (I couldn’t do just 3 LMAO sorry)

4. ACOTAR would be better in 3rd POV limited and we can still get the mystery of the world, Feyre’s biases, etc. A lot of problems I have would be solved if we got the POVs of other characters

5. I would like Rhys so much more if he was revealed to be a villain

6. Lucien is one of the only characters I genuinely enjoy, and I’m holding out for him. If he did not exist, I would not be reading ACOTAR at all

7. The IC are awful for how they treat Nesta and I DESPISE THE “intervention” they put her through. It was not a real intervention and readers should not try to defend it in that way

8. This fanbase is filled with too many straight normies who have never experienced a fanbase before and refuse to broaden their minds and think beyond canon. Tamsand would be the most popular ship in any other fanbase. There would be more sexuality and gender headcanons. Trans headcanons, trans fanfics, m-preg fanfics, etc etc. But I guess this is a very popular fantasy romance so I get why those aren’t popular but I should not have to explain why it’s okay to ship ships that aren’t canon, and why people often insert their heteronormative fantasies in queer ships (looking at you Azris)

[sun-undone]

okay so i'm rereading the poppy war for the sole purpose of trying to squeeze all the chaltan content i can get out of it and my god is it delivering already

this first one is something that i completely breezed past in my first reading cause i didn't even know who tf chaghan was yet but on a reread????? GAY (pg. 226):

you're telling me that chaghan and altan just happened to be together when chaghan felt tyr's death? in the middle of the night??? mmhmm yup for sure

now as willing as i am to fully chalk this up to a late night chaltan tryst, i will be fair and admit that i'm not super clear on how exactly chaghan got the tyr info here. it kinda seems like he's doing his monthly meeting with the hexagram goddess (in the dialogue he literally says "there has been a hexagram" and then he interprets 3 things from it), but first off, it seems too coincidental for him to just happen to be doing that at the very moment that tyr dies, and also why tf is he doing it in the middle of the night?? is he just being extra dramatic and making up some "we have to do it at midnight" bullshit to see what he can get away with (a la the infamous kitay horse piss incident) or is there an in universe explanation for that that i've completely forgotten?

OR is it a secret, gayer third option: altan and chaghan were already together when he felt tyr's death, which then prompted him to convene with the goddess and get the hexagram. and we just don't see the full process or really get much of a proper explanation cause we're in altan's pov and it's all mysterious and shit at this point in the book. that's the one i'm going with and i cannot believe that this is their first scene together. the intimacy is already so palpable and we don't even know chaghan's name at this point in the book.

and then of course there's THIS (pg. 227):

absolutely fucking bonkers i'm spinning on my head

is anyone else this gentle with altan ever????? i'm genuinely asking. who else in the cike would even THINK about pulling a move like this? also the added layer of chaghan originally being next in line for commander before altan took him out to the fucking valley for THREE WHOLE DAYS and then THIS is his reaction to altan officially inheriting said title??? we know from a later conversation that chaghan has with rin (pg. 337) that he's very aware of how unprepared altan was to assume leadership over the cike, which just makes this gesture from him even more meaningful and tender. "we are yours to command. i am yours."

this next one just made me giggle and idk if it's just my brain being broken from scouring source material for gay crumbs or if it's actually intentional but (pg. 285):

i mean. i mean. if anyone knows the extent of chaltan, it's most definitely qara, and a lot of these crumbs involve her so i'm taking it as more evidence and no one can stop me

speaking of qara being an icon (pg. 317):

i actually forgot how much she's in this book i am so sorry queen

so unegen also has a strong reaction to ramsa's dialogue, but if i may be incredibly nitpicky about it, i'd argue that qara snorting implies a sense of "yeah right now that's funny", while unegen spitting out his wine implies more pure shock than anything else. i'm sure the cike have some idea about chaghan and altan's relationship going deeper than meets the eye (if it's this obvious from the crumbs we get over the span of a handful of scenes i can only imagine how sick and tired they must be after an entire year of it), but once again, qara is likely the only one who really KNOWS. for obvious reasons.

then we have the iconic dramatic entrance where chaghan is officially introduced, and even before zooming into a specific piece of it to prove my chaltan agenda, just the very existence of this scene is so fucking insane to me. rebecca could've chosen any way to properly introduce us to chaghan, and this is what she decided on. you could argue that it sets up chaghan's dramatic and obnoxiously proud personality, and that him being hurt is so we can see how it affects qara (and also just to up the tension and stakes) BUT how coincidental that on top of achieving all that character and narrative stuff, it also succeeds in showing us a completely different side to altan. one that is specifically brought about by chaghan.

would altan rush out into a sea of federation soldiers to help any other member of the cike? yes. but rebecca chose to show him helping THIS member of the cike. in THIS dramatic of a fashion (and it's literally on a horse like that is so fractured fairytale romance of her actually). and it's also the aftermath that really clues us into something deeper between him and chaghan in particular (pg. 373):

along with qara, who is SOUL BONDED TO CHAGHAN BY THE WAY, altan is screaming at him for being reckless and how he could've gotten himself killed. intentionally or not, rebecca is clearly aligning altan and qara here, and i LOVE how it's shown in the way their dialogue is formatted. you don't even know who is saying which fragment. they are one in the same when it comes to the level in which they care about chaghan's wellbeing. and also when it comes to yelling at him for being an idiot! and if that's not love then idk what is

[notedchampagne]

Trick or Treat! I haven't read tlt yet, and I'm sure I would like it, but my pet peeve is that most of the "synopses" I see are basically just "lesbian necromancers in space!" and even the back of the book that I've seen just doesn't give me much of an idea of the plot? I'm sure I would like it, but it's hard to know what it's actually About 😔

treat. thats a similar gripe i have as well! i think its good for attracting an audience but it doesnt do much to get them hooked aside from "it has lesbians in it". if you want to get a genuine tlt fic rec from me i wrote this in goodreads. yes sorry i started a goodreads i just needed to keep track of what books i read:

the locked tomb series is about the horrors of love, the tragedy of relationships beyond romance, why codependency is not as fun as you think, the joy of sacrifices, how imperialism affects culture affects people affects imperialism, and most importantly: the humor of not knowing what the fuck is going on. i PROMISE you that tamsyn ties all of these together perfectly.

gideon the ninth is about the intimacy of hating someone youve known your whole life, the all-consuming desire to make something out of yourself and how it can destroy you if youre not careful, how no man is an island, and how you are not immune to propaganda. it is also a murder mystery. i ALSO promise tamsyn writes this all in efficiently.

throughout the series, muir's gimmick is choosing the person least equipped to narrate objectively: the points of view are opinionated, ignorant, humorous, and challenging to get through if you're someone that asks "can this PLEASE be explained now??" she sets up dominoes in seemingly random places at random times, and then knocks it all over in a beautiful cascade of information that makes you feel thrilled and sick. the series is incredibly rereadable from the layers of foreshadowing and theming between all three (soon to be four) books, but for your first run you HAVE to be patient. you HAVE to be willing to be entertained. the payoff of being invested in this series is glorious; it's red-string 'am i crazy' hype. i have a google doc listing off theme connections and details that i started for fun. the characters are MEAN, which i value with my life. gideon and harrowhark are 17 and 18 years old and they act like it: they're funny, theyre self-flagellating, theyre bitchy, theyre unreasonable, etc etc. every character flaw is consistent with their being.

my biggest gripes with the series is that the worldbuilding is too weak for what i can see it being and the memes can be a little niche. the setting and necromancy is moreso a tool for the characters, so theres a lot of beautiful tidbits and descriptions, but you're not going to get any rules or meta beyond surface-level aesthetics. personally, "lesbian necromancers in space" does not cut it for me. if you were raised catholic though, this book might strike a chord with you. if you were raised catholic AND you are a lesbian, youre the target audience. i hope you have fun YOU WILL LIKE THIS SERIES/BOOK IF YOU LIKE: tragedy, character juxtaposition, the teen butch struggle, the exploration of love and toxic dynamics, mystery, sci-fi written like a fantasy novel, catholic theming, death theming, enemies to lovers but worse, freaky white girls, dyke drama, lesbians that have problems bigger than dyke drama, swordfighting, character duos, morally gray characters YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS BOOK/SERIES IF YOU DISLIKE: being confused, being left in the dark for too long, unreliable narrators, morally gray characters, loose/light worldbuilding

[the---hermit]

Messy desk on a gloomy autumn day

16|10|2023

If you couldn't tell I get to the end of the week and I am too exhausted to even consider writing my daily post. This Saturday in particular was a really heavy day I was deprived of all energies, and to be quite honest I don't feel at my best yet. Other than being sick, last week I worked a lot, and had to wake up even earlier than I usually do, so it was a bad combination of things. I am now starting to feel a bit better but I am not fully recharged of energies. The good things that happened in the weekend were the fact that I found the time to sit down and watch the new episodes of Our Flag Means Death, and I also started a reread of the Something Is Killing The Children graphic novel series. The sixth volume has just came out in Italy, and although I have not found a copy yet I feel like the spooky season is perfect for a reread. Today had a quite stressing start, because I decided to tackle my most anxiety-inducing task: officializing the classes I will take on my uni's website. Of course it went terribly, I had to do the procedure twice, and there are some new techinical problems that will hopefully be resolved quickly. After doing that and emailing a professor I gave up on everything else because I felt like I just had a fight to the death and I barely got out of it alive. Thankfully in the afternoon I had a bit more energies and I managed to finish my first read of the play I am currently studying for my English lit class, so the day was not a complete waste of time.

cozy hobbit autumn activities and productivity:

read first thing in the morning

fought with my uni's website and won (kind of, because I also had to send an email to fix some problems but I dif what I could so I count that as a win)

emailed a professor to get his opinion on whether I could take his class with my unsure prerequisites and not only he answered very quickly, but he was also quite polite and told me that thankfully I can take that class and if I'll need more materials to help me with what we'll be studying he'll recommend me an additional book so that I can take the exam

did a bit of planning on what classes I will be taking this year and what I'll wait to work on next year (it's a very general guideline to help me figure out what I'll be doing with my academic life in the next while)

did a very quick weekly set up in my bullet journal

(finally) updated my reading journal

finished my first read of The Merchant Of Venice

daily Irish practice on duolingo

listened to podcasts to shut my brain off

worked on a series of future posts

📖:The Book Of Lost Things by John Connolly, The Merchant Of Venice by William Shakespeare

[morporkian-cryptid]

I'm rereading Feet of Clay, and something I love about Pratchett's writing is that you keep discovering new things with every reread. This man is a fucking genius; and I say is because we all know a man is not dead while his name is still spoken, and I am very much speaking his name, very loudly and with an undertone of exasperated delight.

(MASSIVE spoilers for Feet of Clay, obviously; do not click if you haven't read that book)

Okay, so the poison was in the candles, right? We all know that, and when you reread the book with that knowledge, you notice all the clues that Vimes will later put together. "Une mèche en métal gris" (a wick of grey metal) in the candlemaker's coat of arms. "Art brought forth the candle". Vetinari doing a whole infodump about arsenic and to "put it where no one will look" (the bastard already knew). The emphasis on the candle being the last sentence in the scene where Vetinari's writing, right before his condition gets worse.

A good writer knows how to sprinkle foreshadowing in ways that are just obvious enough to pick up after the fact.

But you know what a great writer does?

Spread false leads.

I honestly don't remember what I deduced the first time I read the book; I was in high-school and tearing through it without stopping to really think about the clues, and also I had little to no knowledge of the cultural stories around arsenic. But on reread, I keep noticing remarks about the wallpapers.

And if you know anything about the Victorian era, the combination of arsenic and wallpapers will immediately make you go "Pass me a towel!!".

THAT BASTARD (affectionate) PTERRY WANTED US TO THINK IT WAS THE WALLPAPER!

And it's not just once, no. There's Vimes' remark about "That seemed to be about it, short of stripping the wallpaper off the wall", which make me chuckle and mutter "oh come on!". But then later on there's "You might as well accuse the wallpaper of driving him mad"... with the added detail that THE WALLPAPER IS GREEN. IT'S FUCKING GREEN. Pterry KNEW what he was doing.

It takes a third mention of the wallpaper (the fact that it's the same in all rooms and Vetinari's condition hasn't been getting better) before Vimes actually consider it; but we the reader would have been yelling "It's the wallpaper!! It's the wallpaper!!" since the first mention of green.

And this is exactly what you expect from a good writer, right? Give you enough clues to figure out the mystery yourself and feel smart.

And if you didn't notice the wallpaper, or dismissed it in the same way Vimes eventually does (it's been there for years and Vetinari has only just started getting sick), then there's the ink on the journal.

(Spoiler for "The name of the rose" by Umberto Eco)

If you've read the book or watched the movie "The name of the rose", the second Vetinari is described licking his fingers to turn the pages of his journal, you should have been screaming "THERE'S ARSENIC IN THE INK!!!" (or at least giving very heavy suspicious side-eyes at the journal and at Pterry).

This is Terry Pratchett's genius, to me, in this book. Sprinkling false leads that seem like solutions to the reader because of our culture, of our knowledge of history or other works of literature, to make us feel smart for having figured out the mystery from the contextual clues before the characters do, and enjoy the fun frustration of watching them bumble around and miss details that we picked up on because we have context that they lack...

And then turn around and pat us on the head and say "Well done, but I played you, you picked up exactly the clues I wanted you to, and ignored the real ones", and you can't be mad at him because the real clues were there! In plain sight!!! The goddamn coat of arms were presented literally within the first twenty pages! We get to feel smart for about half the book, before we realize we've been played, just like Vlmes.

I fucking love Terry Pratchett so much.

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 8

WE ARE FUCKING BACK! (I immediately started hacking my lungs after typing this, I'm sick :P)

To make a long story short, for the past few months I've either been really busy, really depressed, and usually both. Also for some reason chapter 8 was already hard to write and I don't know why.

ALSO before we get into the fic, @your-local-furby drew some absolutely lovely fanart of MC apologizing and seeing the library from the previous two chapters. I think it finally kicked my brain back into gear lmao.

Without further ado, please enjoy!

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

It feels like the ground beneath me is sucking me in.

I feel myself sinking,

I wish the ground would swallow me whole.

Embarrassment washes over me and swallows me whole. I feel the air leave my chest I want to break free but I feel like I’m drowning. 

You take the page you’re scribbling your notes on and crumple it into a ball. You’ve reread your rough draft and decided the arranged wedding scene you had planned wasn’t tragic enough. The blind musician is tasked with performing for the prince’s wedding, but his heartbreak causes him to mess up his performance, which causes everyone to notice he’s crying, including the prince. You’re trying to convey the feeling of knowing every single person in the room is watching you during the lowest point in your life, but it’s just not coming together in a way you like. You’ll run it by Alik later.

Technically, Alik is no longer your editor as a result of your deal with the Yae Publishing House. Still, they’re one of your few friends, and their workload has lightened since your previous publisher terminated all of those other book deals. Now they’re acting as your beta reader before you send off the next draft to the editor at the Yae Publishing House. It’s actually making progress go a lot faster, so much so you might only need one final draft of the whole story before it’s finally published, as opposed to multiple drafts. 

I do not need sight to know everyone in the room is looking at me. I feel it in my broken notes that trail into nothingness. I feel it in the resulting silence. I feel it in the quiet murmur spreading through the room.

I feel tears in my eyes as I drop my head down, praying no one sees me crying. If I could, I would sprint out of the room, out of the palace, so no one is witness to my heartbroken embarrassment. I’d run so fast, the prince would have no time to chase after me. It would be for the best anyways. He deserves his perfect and beautiful bride, and I am no bride, I cannot verify if I am beautiful, and in this moment, I could not feel anymore flawed as a person and human. 

A knock on your door breaks your concentration. You’re dreading whatever is on the other side, but know it’s better to get this over with. 

“Yes?”

The door opens, and your mother pokes her head in through the gap. She offers a smile. “We have company. Come say hi, please.”

“I’m… kind of in the middle of something,” you reply, “and I’ve told you that I’m going to see Alik when I’m done writing.”

“How is she, by the way?”

“They’re fine.”

“And Maria? How’s she?”

“She’s alright, I think. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Well, tell them both I say hello. Anyways, if you have a minute, I would like you to come downstairs. There’s someone I’d like you to talk to.”

It takes you a moment to recognize what this is, mostly because it’s been a while since she tried pulling this off. When you realize what’s happening, you just shake your head and look at your mother. “Which family friend is this?”

She gives you a very unconvincing look of confusion. “My dear, what do you mean?”

“Mother, please.”

“... Ana. Anastasia.”

Anastasia is your younger sister Adéla’s friend. Much like your sister, she’s only a year younger than you, but unlike your sister, she actually likes you. Adéla and you have butted heads throughout your lives, as siblings tend to do and especially with such a small age gap, but Adéla has taken it a step further saying that it’s your fault her childhood was so “miserable” as she puts it. She claims that your diagnosis made you the centre of your parents’ attention until your youngest sister was born, and then they focused more on her than Adéla. Conveniently, she’s never had any sisterly drama with her, only you. You feel for her, but there was only so much you could do at the time, seeing as you were eight years old.

“Absolutely not,” you tell your mother.

“But you two got along so well when she would visit,” your mother insists, “and she’s become a fine young lady since the two of you last spoke! Don’t you remember reading together when you two were little?”

“I’m sure she’s beautiful,” you say, “but Adéla will throw a fit if she finds out you set me up with one of her friends.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And I don’t want to find out,” you tell her, “and I told you I don’t like being set up on dates.”

Your mother lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I want to make sure my son is happy, healthy, and I want him to find someone he can settle down with. Your brother was already married at your age, and Adéla’s going to be having another baby soon.”

“Yes, but I’m not Pavel or Adéla,” you say, “the dating scene is different for me, and playing matchmaker isn’t going to make me feel any better or help me.”

Your mother just looks at you. That sad, pitiful look you know all too well. It stopped pulling on your heartstrings long ago, but sometimes it’s just easier to indulge her than it is to fight her on it. Besides, she means well, you think, it just can’t be helped that she doesn’t know her son has no interest in women.

You sigh, and stand up, much to your mother’s delight. “I’ll say hi, and that’s it.”

She grins, and she motions for you to follow her.

----

“... and she just happens to be single, too.”

Alik sets their glass down. “Interesting. So when’s the wedding?”

“It’s not happening,” you reply, “thank the Tsaritsa for that.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents haven’t put you in an arranged marriage yet,” Alik comments.

“How many viable marriage candidates do you think there are that would be thrilled to marry someone who’s not only going blind, but could pass it on to their children as well?”

“Depends on how much the family is getting paid.”

“And it would not be much.”

The tavern is surprisingly quiet tonight. You chalk it up to it being the middle of the work week, not as many patrons willing to get drunk if they have work early in the morning. Currently, you and Alik are sitting at a table in the corner of the room while a few older patrons mill about, chattering on about their own lives at the bar. It’s actually rather nice, you think.

“What would they try to sell your bride to be on?” Alik asks.

“Um…” You look into your half drunk glass, trying to think of something funny. You clear your throat, straighten your posture, and put on your best business smile. “Here’s a fine young man who has no real work skills, and it’s not like they would do him any good since he’s considered legally blind and has between thirteen and fifteen years before he is fully blind. His only profitable skill is writing, though he doesn’t make enough to support a household. His blindness is also genetic!”

“By the Archons, at least say one nice thing about yourself,” Alik teases, though there’s a subtle sincerity to their words.

“I think I’m decent,” you say, “I think I might even make an okay husband, but I don’t think I’d be the kind of husband Pavel or my father are.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Alik replies, “there are plenty of families and couples where the husband isn’t always a provider. Besides, you’re not really a ladies man to begin with.”

You shake your head. “It’s not even that, it’s just… you know I try not to make a big deal of me going blind, but it’d be naïve of me to pretend that it’s not, and especially if I was in a relationship. Whether I like it or not, whoever I marry is going to inevitably become my caretaker. There will come a day where I’m going to need help, and I’ll rarely be able to return that favour.”

“That’s why it’s in sickness and in health,” Alik comments. They reach across the table and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a good house husband, before and after you start seeing the world how Maria does.”

Maria is Alik’s cousin, and one of your few very close friends. She has been a big help to you in writing your book as her blindness is similar to the main character’s. While he was born blind, she actually had vision when she was born. Unfortunately, she suffered a very severe head injury when she was very young. She has little to no memory of her life before she lost her sight as a result, as well as having some developmental problems growing up. These days she’s doing much better, though her eyesight is still gone. At most, she can detect if there’s light, but that’s the extent of it. 

“Do you have permission to make jokes about her being blind?” you ask.

“I not only have permission, but that’s not even the worst joke I’ve gotten away with.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“For the best.”

Your table goes quiet as you and Alik take a moment to drink. You try not to cringe at the taste of whatever the hell Alik recommended you try. It’s a beer, and you can taste that, but it’s a lot more bitter than you like. Still, they bought it for you, it would be rude to spit it out.

“You don’t have to drink that, you know.”

“It’s an acquired taste, I’ll get used to it.”

You see a smile twitch onto Alik’s lips, and even if they try to hide it, you can see a shit eating grin from miles away. 

“Okay,” you say, “out with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You thought of something terrible, I want to hear it.”

Alik glances around the room, assessing how audible their comment would be. You take a sip of your drink, and they grin.

They lean in. “I’m sure Pantalone would be happy to hear that.”

You immediately sputter, spraying Alik in the face. They yell, swiping at their face as if they were sprayed with acid. You cough as what was left in your mouth goes down the wrong pipe. “Fuck, w-why’d I take a drink–”

“Did you have to spit that in my face?” Alik asks.

“Shut up,” you wheeze out. You give one more hearty cough, your throat and chest burning, and you can breathe again. You sit up, rubbing your chest through your shirt while Alik wipes their face and the table with napkins. You look around, and see the few patrons staring at your table. You painfully chuckle, and turn back to your friend. “S-Sorry, I should know better by now.”

Alik shrugs. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“I told you that in confidence,” you whisper.

“You actually told me before the tea party,” Alik tells you. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s starting to show in your book.”

You feel your face flush, and you narrow your eyes. “I think I would know if I was writing about him, thank you.”

“The prince was a lot more arrogant in your first drafts,” Alik explains, “but in more recent iterations, it’s been toned down a lot. He’s also a lot more understanding of the musician’s blindness.”

You’re confused. “Well, yes. My first drafts are years old, so I’ve had to make some adjustments to better fit my writing style now. Besides, I’ve read too many stories about asshole love interests that don’t really learn anything, they just get tragic backstories that authors think justify their shitty behaviour. I’m not adding my characters to that pile.”

“No, I agree on that,” Alik says, “but even then, he was still a solid character, arrogance aside. He was just a spoiled prince who had to actually think about other people for the first time in his life. Like he’s never had to deal with someone with a disability, and doesn’t know how else to feel other than annoyed. In the more recent drafts, he still doesn’t know how to deal with it, but he’s a lot more willing to make up for the disrespect, where the old version did it, but complained the whole time. It just so happens that this change happened right when you met him for the first time.”

“That’s… hm.” You take a sip and don’t spit it in Alik’s face. “You’re on the right track, but I don’t think I was writing all of that because of a crush.” You feel your face flush warmer again. “He was a bit of an ass at the party, but since then he’s become one of…” You take a moment to count names on your finger. “... six or seven people that aren’t patronizing about me going blind. I’d just been putting up with most of my family either coddling me or being inconvenienced by me, but he’s a rare instance of someone making accommodations, but not making a big show of it. That’s why the book was like that until I met Pantalone.”

You stare into your glass. “And… a-and it’s why I enjoy his company so much…”

Alik doesn’t say anything. You look up, and you see their expression has softened a little bit. They lift their drink up to you, and you smile and lift yours up.

“Cheers.”

You both take a swig, and somehow the disgusting drink tastes sweeter going down. Your face feels warm, and you wonder why you’re still blushing when you see you’re already halfway through your drink. Alik has a similar glow in their cheeks. 

“That’s really sweet and cute,” Alik says, “but I do have to ask you something.”

You feel whatever warm feelings you’re feeling lessen when Alik’s softened expression gains a hint of concern. Their smile looks awkward by comparison, before they sigh and lose it altogether. You’re already dreading what they’re about to say.

They hesitate for a moment, and when they speak, it’s in a whisper. “Do you like him, or do you like what he’s done for you?”

“W-What?”

“I wouldn’t ask that if we were talking about anyone else,” Alik clarifies, “but I have to ask when it’s him. I don’t want to rain on your parade, I’m happy you like someone, but… he’s a harbinger. One of the more likeable ones, but not without flaws.”

“I know…”

Alik sighs. “Look, if it were some other handsome rich man, I’d say go for it. The fact it’s a harbinger specifically makes me a little worried, I won’t lie.”

You sound like my mother. “It’s a crush, not an engagement,” you tell them. “We enjoy each other’s company while he works with my father and sister. I just enjoy it differently than he does.”

“Still, even as friends, I’d be cautious. If not for what he’d have planned, then for what others might have in store for him.”

You take a swig. “You want to know what’s funny? You’re the first person to bring up his enemies as a point for why I shouldn’t get near him.”

“I am not.”

“No, seriously. My mother doesn’t want me near him because he’ll probably, I don’t know, kill me or sell me or steal my ideas, depends on the day. My father thinks I’ll ruin everything those two have built together, which I still don’t know why Pantalone is working with him.”

“Maybe your dad’s indebted to him or something.”

“...”

Alik notices your silence. They say your name in a soft voice, seeming worried by your expression. Your father’s not in debt, is he? The business isn’t as prosperous as it was when you were little, but job markets change all the time, and the economy is ever fluctuating. It’s purely the result of what happens when a business runs for as long as it does. Sometimes an empire doesn’t crumble, but rather dies slowly.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You snap out of it. “I’m, uh, I’m fine.” You push your seat back and stand. “I’m just, um, I’m going to go to the washroom for a second.”

“... Okay? Just watch yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” you call out over your shoulder before immediately bumping into someone. Unlike with Pantalone, you actually manage to catch yourself before you fall. You know that Alik is holding their head in their hands, possibly stifling laughter too for a little extra salt in the wound.

“Archons, sorry,” you immediately blurt out, “I didn’t see you there.”

The ginger haired man laughs. “Oh, no worries comrade! Just be more careful next time!”

You stare at the man, eyes widening. His smile grows, almost reaching the dull blue of his eyes.

“Why the surprised face?” he asks jovially.

You sigh and shake your head. “I have got to stop meeting harbingers like this.”

[eri-pl]

Silm reread 16: Beren, Luthien, and the fourth wall,

through which Pengolodh needs to be punched a little. Or at least frightened.

So… This chapter is a lot.

First we get a remainder that we are in a narrative frame: there are many stories but this one is the best. So I, Pengolodh, will make sure it sounds proper.

Also, why is the Lay of Leithian… I thought "Leithian" was some variant of Luthien, but it's "Release from Bondage". What. Why. I guess it's that one scene where she takes Sauron's island?

Before I proceed: I wanted to say that writing a love story dedicated to your wife and overloading it with meanings is an absolutely valid thing to do. And beautiful.

Yes, this is an opinion I will stick with. No, it doesn't mean that I think everything in B&L is coherent or well-written. Most is, but there are places that stick out.

So we start with Beren. He lives with his fatherr and a band of outlaws and… they worship a (lake? river? translation unclear.) because Melian had hallowed it.

They are so competent that Morgoth tells Sauron (his 2nd in command) to kill them all.

Again we have a character with unprocessed grief (nor surprising, as he doesn't know whether his wife is alive or dead) and it is the entry point for the forces of evil. So, Gorlim. Sauron pulls the Dune-like thing on him. I wonder which was first. Jirt didn't like Dune, but had read it.

Beren sees Gorlim's ghost, in the (hallowed?) water, which is an interesting place for a ghost to appear. good for him I guess?

What is the thing with hands? Beren attacks the orcs and grabs his dead father's hand with the ring of Barahir. Unclear which hand was that. Also, he becomes vegan.

Beren is so competent that he gets a "wanted" poster Morgoth offers a prize for his head. As high as for Fingon. OK, so Morgoth gives money for killing important people? Or at least offers money? We aren't told if he ever actually paid anyone. But the orcs still prefer to run away, so he sends Sauron + a whole army and his werewolves.

How competent can one guy be?

Also, we get an explanation of what werewolves are. Terrible ghosts imprisoned in wolves' bodies and posessing them. This chapter has more on werewolves then the whole rest of the book.

So, Beren has to evacuate through Spider-land. Which he manages to do. (Seriously, how many Fate Points does this guy have?)

Luthien is so beautiful that he falls in love instantly. I would be more comfortable if Tolkien didn't show falling in love as simultanously a) totally uncontroleable result of beauty, and b) impossible to not turn into action. But Beren is a good guy so he is polite, he just admires her and stuff.

Also, she's got the exact same poetic colors of hair and eyes as Elrond, which makes sense. Or, more precisely, Elrond as her.

Fate this, fate that, I get the point but don't like the language.

Beren gets kind of sick, because he has to gain more Fate Points pays for the great destiny he is going to get.

I am not going to repeat that part I complained about already. Let's just say there's a lot of "she/they were the most X of everyone in all times" and this sounds, well, poetic but not factual. (Also, they are "the most happy anyone has ever been". )

Daeron snitches on Luthien (part 1). Thingol is sad and confused and asks questions. Beren says "I found what I didn't seek, but as I found it I will never give it up" and that is a really good line.

Thingol, of all people, complains of having made a hasty oath. :D

Beren would take death before dishonor. Also shows Finrod's ring and Thingol isn't very impressed. (I think this may be used as a counterargument to "Finrod should have written to Thingol" — Beren has already shown the credentials he could get from Finrod. What additional things could Finrod tell Thingol?)

We get a description of the ring of Barahir.

Melian tries to calm het husband down, but he is upset and resentful at Beren. And he says that he desires the Silmaril (does he? Did he desire it before he said that? Unclear)

At least Thingol says that with the Silmaril he will give Luthien to Beren if she will want to, which is very proper of him. Also he mentions the "fate of Ards is tied to the Silmarils" thing. Everyone realizes that he just wants Beren dead (so I guess it is a fact?)

Beren is very chill. He says "bye" to Luthien, bows. And then he moves the guards and just walks away ignoring them which is an awesome way of leaving.

Melian is worried, Thingol says that Beren will not return, and if he (thingol) believed that there is any chance of success for him, he would kill Beren, promise or not.

We have a lot of "Lay of Laithian says" so I guess this is suposed to be a later edition... I should do a reread (well, first read tbh) on the Lay one day. But it's hard to read with focus.

Beren goes to Nargothrond, and (so that the guards don't shoot him) yells often that he is Barahir's son. Which must have looked quite funny.

Also, Turgon isn't the only one with "shoot the intruders" policy, but Finrod's one seems less strict.

Finrod talks with Beren behind closed doors (I think it's because C&C. Finrod isn't naive, he's just… idk. Anyway this is a smart move.) Also he is surprised and sad and heavy-hearted because he realizes he's going to have to die. At leats he doesn't try to weasel out of his fate.

Also, Finrod says a lot of interesting / strange things:

the Oath is on again. So, we are in the "oath is an active thing" situation. Probably.

there is a "curse of hatered" on the Silmarils. (Huh??? Who cursed them? I don't remember Fefe cursing the jewels, he cursed many other things…)

who speaks their name with greed, awakens poweerful forces (WHAT? So… Thingol is greedy about the jewel? And it triggers the Oath? Or what? that's… a whole new conceptual area to explore)

the Feanorians would rather destroy all lands then let anyone else have a Silmaril (I'm not sure how true this is but him saying this tells us something about C&C)

the Oath "rules over the princes of Noldor" (What. Finrod, my guy, you are a Noldorin prince too. Also, what. What about their free will?)

C&C are a problem but Finrod won't break his word to Barahir, so we all are deep in trouble

Finrod makes a speech, expects support from his people. It's not said what kind of support. He doesn't say he is going to attack Angband directly.

Celegorm takes out his sword and quotes the Oath. That's pretty metal, but also definitely not good. Curufin is apparently more polite now (iirc he was brash some chapters earlier, I guess he learned. Or it was Celegorm too?). Citizens of Nargothrond are scared of war, they get sneaky, start using poison and generally turn Nor Great from this time on. Huh.

The Doom of Mandos awakes in C&C's hearts and gives them evil thoughts. This is a very close paraphrase. Excuse me, what? Pengolodh, what have you been drinking? something made by Namo (or one of his Maiar, which I find more likely, but anyway) makes them think evil things? Go home and check your phrasing, seriously. This sounds so off. Unless it's the translation again?

Finrod appeals to pity and gets ten guys to follow him. I agree that this speech of him doesn't sound great and … I think he just feels sad and abandoned and does some emotional blackmailing here. and Finrod is awesome but not so awesome to never do anything wrong. It's not terrible, but, yes, I think he would be better without it.

[Which implies that if it was just him and Beren, Sauron would not try to kill Beren earlier. Which… makes some sense. When you have 12 prisoners, killing one as an example isn't a lot. when you have just two, you need to use subtler means of persuasion. (sorry for a bit of Sauron PoV ;) )]

Still, Edrahil is pretty cool here. I like him. Yes, those two opinions can coexist and it is an important point.

The song duel. Finrod picks "Of secrets kept," as his starting line, which makes sense in the context (keeping their disguise) but also, considering what kind of secret had Finrod been keeping (mostly from Thingol, who is btw associated with this quest) for many, many years, I would say it does have a weak point.

So it leads to "In Valinor, the red blood flowing" and we're out.

Luthien feels that things are bad and asks mom and mom tells her that Beren is captured by Sauron. Which she knows. Because she's a Maia, probably? But still, to see into Sauron's dungeons is quite an achievement. Maybe fate was a factor too.

Huan! The dog that is under the Doom of the Noldor! It seems as if this was the reason he later dies at all, that without the Doom thing Huan would be immortal. What even is he. [A lesser Maia. I don't care it's no longer canon, it makes the most sense.]

Also, he never sleeps, his sight and smell can't be deceived and he is invulnerable to magic.

C&C capture Luthien and we have their reasoning explained. So, C&C's logic as told by the narrative:

Finrod and Beren are as good as dead now

so let's let Finrod die

also let's force Thingol to let Tyelko marry Luthien

we will be the most powerful princes of the Noldor

the Silmarils, yea, so let's wait. first we will rule all the Elven kingdoms and then we can work on reclaiming the Silmarils.

No, it doesn't mean that someone else may take them!

Yes, it is explicitely about political power. (But also, Luthien pretty and Celegorm is into her.)

Also, Huan (like Celegorm) understands all creatures.

Finrod dies. Pengolodh edits it heavily. Seriously, I hereby accept this fic as my canon for what finrod said, because the book is lying. Oh wait, no. It is the translation. In the Polish version Finrod literally says "it will be many ages before the Noldor see me" and he says it without "probably" or anything, he says it like a foresight. And we know it is not true, because he got reembodied very quickly.

The original is not that bad. Anyway, it is lacking. It reads like something Celegorm would say in the situation (no offense to Celegorm who had actually been in this situation in early drafts).

[HC time: I imagine Pengolodh as very much the kind of guy to get offended by and cut out anything that looks too strange and … I don't know how to call it. Difficult? He's not terrible, but very insecure after returning from the Exile. He really doesn't want to offend the Valar again and isn't taking the best approach to it.]

And, speaking of Pengolodh and his additions, "so died Finrod, the most beloved descendant of Finwe". Beloved by whom? Certainly not by Finwe. Maybe by the people, but it does depend on which people exactly. Most beloved on the average? Most beloved by Pengolodh?

Pengolodh, my guy, I actually agree with you that Finrod is the loveliest Finwean, but please, could you refrain from using "loved / beloved" and comparisions?

Anyway, song-rescue. This is something even Pengolodh can't mess up describing. Also, Valacirca (Sickle of the Valar, that is: the Big Dipper) mentioned, and … it's a sign of Morgoth's fall? I thought this one was a threat to him. (Yes, let me remind you: there is not one, but two different seven(ish)-star constellations that Varda put in the sky specifically as a threat to Melkor. Also, of all the weapons, a sickle.)

Sauron seems to have a thing with "standing on a high place and smiling/laughing just before he gets wrecked". (Later he does it as Numenor is falling). I hereby HC that just before he noticed the Ring being in the Crack of doom, he also stood high atop his tower and laughted (because Aragorn's army was losing).

I'm tired. I'll cut B&L reread into two parts.

[moonliched]

Hello baby!

Kisses u on the forehead

How r u feeling? I just finished rereading your fic and damn i love it so much it's in my solid top 3 of mer fics and is keeping its 1st place proudly. I just melt into a happy puddle while reading it! And during a day my mind often drifts to think and theorise about your work! Also you are so cute and bubbly it only adds on to the whole vibe in the book. I loved little fun facts! They are adding so much character and perspective to the people and situations! Can we have some more?

Btw can we give you some ideas for plants and stuff?

Kisses!

can't wait to see more of your magic 🌸✨️

you n me, perchance (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

i am feeling like i need a long holiday! i hope your autumn is off to a good start🍁🍂

you have no idea how big of a complement this is aaaaaaaaa, i always wanted to make a fic likeable enough to reread xD you're so nice to me❤️

you can absolutely give me whatever ideas you'd like, i welcome the excuse to chat n make up cool fantasy stuff😊✨ thanks for the ask, i am absolutely squeezing you in a hug rn!!

i gotcha more fun There Are Many Benefits facts ;3

🪸 Sun and Moon coexist calmly and happily. they are very close and their bickering isn't in seriousness. so if you join in, at any moment they might exchange a glance and gleefully gang up on you at the drop of a hat

🪸 Meryn can see a deeper range of certain colours than the mers can, like the difference between the white of Sun's eyes and his paler pupils. so Sun thinks he's being sneaky when he looks at Meryn without moving his head, but obviously Meryn can tell that he's staring dead at them. they find it funny

🪸 after Meryn revealed in chapter 16 that they intend to build BON-BON a body, he promptly spent the rest of the night searching up cool robot images and brainstorming stuff to put in it. he 100% has not thought about the sheer work that's going to go into making just a regular body, nor the fact that Meryn would never ever trust him with rocket launchers

🪸 Sun and Moon are aware on some level that Humans Wear Clothes (though how they know this is a spoiler!) but they don't fully understand the minutiae of the when and the why humans keep covered. so, just enough to get flustered when they're removed lol

🪸 Meryn was considering getting piercings before their hand webbing was removed. now they have lost their taste for any permanent body modifications

🪸 BON-BON spies on the Glamrock team's meetings, but not as much as he used to. he gets bored easily and a lot of what they discuss references previous tasks and goals he also didn't really listen to when they were first brought up. as a result, he misses out on a lot of stuff that would make for juicy gossip-and-mystery-solving content to share with Meryn😅

🪸 Sun thinks that Meryn's 'nest' (bed) is tragically bare. it must be because they have no one to take care of them! he has plans to rectify that

🪸 Meryn typically responds with a one word 'okay' when they're agreeing without meaning it

🪸 BON-BON thinks the Glamrock team's apparent bleeding-heart stance on AI is just performative, and that if the time comes to ever put those beliefs into action they would fall back on reporting him as sentient

🪸 Vanessa only followed Meryn's example of using he/him pronouns for Sun when he spoke like a human, by mimicking her words

🪸 it's often obvious to Sun and Moon when Meryn doesn't understand something, and they find it amusing to call them on it, or let it play out if Meryn doesn't express their confusion. they think it's cute

🪸 As of chapter 16, Meryn is getting sick of Monty helping himself to their food and drink and has a plan to punish him for it >:3

🪸 BON-BON's enjoyment of shopping is more to do with the new experience of getting to express himself through his appearance than fashion itself. he's still learning what he likes and how he wants to present himself

🪸 Sun and Moon love making Meryn laugh, as they don't actually laugh or smile by themself often. but tbf all of their expressions are super interesting to the mers

[moodymisty]

I cannot stop thinking about what you wrote about Lorgar having a corruption kink. It’s infecting my mind. Lorgar x fem!reader please. I would love to see you write this. You have such a delectable way of writing.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: Yesssss!! I have been so eager to write something for this so I'ma 'bout to go ham. Lorgar is my type of pathetic man and I am obsessed with him. Also I decided to combine a few requests together just to lessen my workload a bit. I so deeply apologize for how overly dramatic and verbose this is.

TL:DR, In my opinion Lorgar's corruption kink goes two ways; One is he himself wants to be corrupted, to be forced into listening to his baser desires without the guilt of doing so himself. It's all that religious trauma. The other way is the more traditional route where he has a sweet little beloved who he knows he's gonna fuck up once he touches them.

Summary: Lorgar is burning up, and you don't even know you're doing it.

Relationships: Lorgar/Gn!Reader

Warnings: Some vague mentions of NSFW acts, Mentions of Kor Phaeron abusing young Lorgar, Lorgar being mercurial as usual and extremely emotionally conflicted, Slight manipulation, The consent could maybe be considered dubious, Religious trauma and religious undertones

Word Count: 1901

"My Lord, are you well?"

The Astartes warrior looks towards his genefather with the slightest hint of concern hidden behind his helmet, hand tightened around the hilt of his polearm. Lorgar lets out a gentle laugh, and looks towards his sons with a gentle smile before giving a gentle platitude.

"I am well, worry not about me."

He looks down from them, back to the papers that scatter across the massive and ornate desk he calls his own. Ink stains mar the wood, along with the scratches of his tools and his own fingertips. His sons are not entirely convinced, and in their worry for their genefather as his quill struggles to put words to paper, look to each other before the one slightly elder speaks up.

"Father, are you s-" Lorgar looks up, and the look in his golden eyes alone makes the two Astartes close their mouths behind their decorated helms.

"Drop this topic of conversation."

He leaves no room for rebuttal. They cease, and Lorgar waits for the quiet sound of a vox crackling in their helmets, but finds none. Even if they don't communicate with each other however, the Primarch decides they don't need to witness him in this state any longer. He has no desire for an audience, nor to unsettle any of his sons further with an issue plaguing only himself.

"Take your leave. I need a moment to myself."

The Astartes listen without question, footsteps almost in sync as they leave the room. the cloth draped over their armor like robes swishes gently as the ladder out closes the door behind him.

Once gone Lorgar lets out a sigh, his chest relaxing. The sun is still bright, light distorted by panels of stained glass tucked between pillars with openings to a grand balcony. He wasn't making much progress of anything anyhow, and so he sees no harm in having a moment of respite to let his mind calm.

Though, it seem his mind had decided take it upon itself to wander when he wanted it least, golden eyes glancing to a book teetering on the edge of his desk with a delicate filigree across the binding.

He had thought this sickness, at first.

The way that his thoughts seemed unable to stay their path and seemed to be led astray. Lorgar was normally not one with trouble focusing, so when he'd found himself rereading pages and rewriting notes, he'd quickly begun to grow irritated at himself.

But soon, after days and nights of a foggy mind and a hunger he couldn't place, he found the source of his torment in a moment of clarity.

You.

The way you listen to his words with not just the awe of a scholar, but of someone wishing to know more of him. Of what he knows. Quickly he'd gone from you only be cast the basest of glances from across massive libraries, to the Primarch looking for the unique shape of your robes.

How you of all managed to capture him like this, he's yet to discover. But no matter how you had, you'd taken over his heart and soul none the less. He has what could be called an obsession for your eyes, that eagerness in them, grasping for a guiding hand. His guiding hand. You're a peaceful company, gentle and kind to him. He wishes to have seen such kindness in his youth.

But it wasn't just that. He quickly realizes over the scrolls he's meant to write, but only finds himself only glossing over already written words and nonsensical scribbles his hand forms from habit. He's forced to scrap the parchment and start over, biting the inside of his lip until he tastes iron on his tongue.

He doesn't just want your company. Not just your gentle voice or the feeling of your soul close to his.

He wants your touch. To feel your hand brush over his skin, to feel your lips on his own. In private- where he can unravel you to your soul and only he can see it all. To see your body draped in only the silks that lay over his massive bed, asleep.

It infuriates him.

He should be stronger than this. Love is an emotion he understands, he feels it; Towards his adoptive father, towards the Emperor, towards his sons.

But lust; He never thought himself weaker than it. He refuses to be weaker than it. To feel it's grip on him enticing him closer. You dance on the edge of a cliff beckoning him to fall as well. To think you don't even know you're doing it to him.

He had thought Kor Phaeron had beaten these feelings out of him in his youngest years; The few where he didn't tower over his human pater. He's been diligent in keeping this a secret from him, as there would be no consoling him if he found the Primarch lusting after you.

Oh, if only you knew of the thoughts he has of you when you are near- drenched in sin until they drip like a cloth soaked with blood.

He wants to feel your skin, hear the way your voice cracks as you cry, cry for him, the way your body writhes underneath his own as he ruins you for anyone but him. He wants to write on your neck, in places that your clothes fail to hide the blossoming bruises.

He wants, he wants, he wants.

But he can't just want anymore. He wants to have. To be the only one your eyes look towards.

He calls one of his sons to return, and speaks to them from across the room as he rises from his chair. He leaves his parchments scattered across the desk, unfinished and ink drying. He issues them to fetch you from where ever you may be, as he adjusts the shoulder of his robe.

"And do emphasize haste."

He doesn't know how much longer he can wait, with the way a fire overtakes his blood and his robes feel far too tight. Things like his hand can no longer suffice. He wants you.

The sanctuary of his personal quarters have never felt so relieving, when he arrives to it. Books are evenly stored on shelves all throughout, tomes of his own collection and many he had written himself. Or that his pater had, before and after his expulsion from the Covenant.

He looks away from them before he gets lost in thought on matters unbefitting of the now evening. You should be here at any moment, and Lorgar wishes to provide you a respite, not drown you in bitterness.

Anything to soothe your worries, he will do; He knows to look upon and be in the presence of a Primarch can unsettle mortals, for reasons both spiritual and physical. Lorgar turns away to look towards the quickly setting sun, just as he hears footsteps. Lorgar swears he can feel his heart begin to beat faster.

You enter slowly, head peeking around the edge of the massive door as you slip inside with the permission of the guards posted just outside.

You see him standing and staring out through an open window, over a vast stretch of palace ground. He can hear your footsteps, and turns to greet you with a warm smile and gentle look in his eyes. Lorgar has moments of fury, but so many of the times you see him, you're charmed by the surprising softness that he can show. Not many others say the same, much to your surprise.

"There you are. I've been waiting for you." You mistakenly take his sentence as a slight for being tardy.

"Apologies, I came as soon as I had gotten word." Lorgar is barely even listening to your carefully chosen words, he's too distracted by the way your hands are wringing themselves in front of you. He steps away from the window, and you speak again.

"What do you require of me, Lord Primarch?" His eyes are gentle as he brushes you off. He can see when you swallow, the way your throat bobs.

He could just order you into his bed. He knows you would do it, you're diligent and dutiful but Lorgar doesn't want to. He wants to unravel you underneath him, piece by piece, until you're just as drenched in his sin as he is. Until your body is crying and weeping for him, begging to be filled by him and only him.

"No formalities. We are past that sort of nonsense. You are more than welcome to call me by my name. As I do you." You hesitate. Your lips shift and he catches each little motion.

"Then, Lorgar, do you need something from me?"

He can hear the way his name tastes odd on your lips, but falls so smoothly from them.

Lorgar moves closer to you, up until it would take only one step for you to step on the bottoms of his robes. And then does he take a knee, lowering slowly until his right knee touches the floor. You hear the moment it does as his body weight rests with a dull thud. You're waiting for something of importance, but what he says instead is so far removed from the possible options you had in your mind, that you can only stare.

"I need you."

Your eyes widen, and he can hear you utter in your confusion,

"What?"

Lorgar recoils for a moment as you both look at each other.

You can feel your skin becoming heated at the decleration, but never had you thought this sort of thing becoming a reality. You'd thought the idea absurd, meanwhile Lorgar had been consumed by it. How you can bring a Primarch to his knee by the way his name falls from your lips. To cast aside the pleasant language he's written in for many years:

He wants to fuck you. He aches for you.

His hand moves of it's own accord, drifting closer.

"Let me touch you. Let me show you how you've overtaken my mind."

You feel his massive hand on your waist, shifting your clothing and almost revealing your skin. His fingers almost seem to shake, the same as his voice when he hisses out the words through his teeth.

"You've taken over it like a sickness, like a curse,"

He's been leaning closer to you this entire time, and now you can feel his breath on your face. His golden eyes flicker over your expression as he abruptly goes from anger, to an expression filled with adoration and something else.

"I, I'm s-" Lorgar shushes you.

"Don't be."

Your lips unconsciously part as he drifts closer, his hand still on your waist. the other joins it on the opposite side, and you can feel how much more skin they cover than a normal human's would. Lorgar might not be the largest of the Primarchs, but he still towers over you.

He crosses the distance and presses his lips to yours, feeling the warmth of his lips and his tanned skin against your own. You feel so much emotion in it that it's almost overwhelming, hands moving to rest ever so gently on his collarbone.

You could never reject his affections. And you don't want to. His lips glide across yours as he speaks.

"Let me show you it all, my beloved."