#icarus! your hair is like starlight!

[cacklingphantom]

Big baddie for Welcome to Sector A. Puppeteer is the husband to Dolly and Warden Officiate of The Sectors, a multitude of prisons turned into small cities to house his experiment prisoners. Icarus claims himself the most devout follower of Father Time, citing his scar as proof.

(More background under the cut cw for injury, dog bites, and religious themes including grandeur.)

In his youth, Icarus would visit Time’s Temple daily, diligently abiding his prayers. Until one sermon, as Icarus sat in prayer, his fellow church goers rushed in panic. He didn’t realize anything was going on until he looked up to find a snarled, foaming maw greeting him. Instead of running as the others had, Icarus took to his prayers once more. As a consequence, the dog launched forward, tearing apart Icarus’ face and chest until the attack was stopped by a group of members from the congregation.

Before their eyes, the offending creature dissipated into a cloud of mist as they held it down. Icarus couldn’t hear the soft chuckling of it over his blood curdling screams as he laid curled on the floor surrounded by concerned witnesses. After his return from the hospital, he was revered for his faith and peculiar scar left by the devil. They saw it as a sign from Time, protection of his life from the beast.

From then on, Icarus sky rocketed to power and influence, another gift from Time it seemed. He was known within his congregation as “Father’s Beloved” and has carried this sentiment with him throughout his positions in office.

Now, he sits at the top, punishing sinners and reusing their “tainted vessels” for his experiments, seeing it as therapy and finally putting a use to the mind and body his prisoners had deemed to waste on crime.

[andromedaexists]

WUPDATE: CALL ME ICARUS

𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝 || 𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎?

It's been a while since i've been around, for a couple reasons! I don't want to get too into depth on this post since "life updates??" had the least votes in the poll, but it more or less boils down to a rough start with the first half of the year. but i'm back! (hopefully for a longer period of time this time!)

y'all wanted to hear what was going on with our resident Mess™️ and boy do i have some news to share:

Firstly, we're coming up on one year of Icky baby being in the world! I can't believe we're approaching October already, it's like just yesterday I released that ball of messed up morals onto the world!

Speaking of book 1 being released, it's currently half off on my itch.io for pride month! due to my health complications and all that i haven't really been promoting this sale but i would like to push it a little bit before the end of the month!

that brings us on to the other end of CMI announcements: book 2 information

I am still focusing the majority of my attention on finishing Desecrate and getting Incorrect Eyes ready for publication, but I wanted to let y'all know that I have started drafting CMI book 2. I already made an intro post about it a while ago, but ΔΙΑΦΘΟΡΆ has started to take shape! I've shared a handful of lines with the Shit Show as they've come to be, and soon y'all will see them too as i start filling up my queue with tags that i've missed in really the past year (i have a lot to catch up on!)

I think the most exciting part of the drafting process for me has been getting to incorporate my own pain back into a story. I forgot how much of a crutch CMI was for that on my end. Sure, Kit may be a great way for me to process emotional pain, and Hunter may be great for writing about my mental illnesses and all, but Icarus? Icky baby has always been the way that I process physical pain. And hoo boy have I been in a lot of that recently! He's not having a great time right now!

Finally, i'm just gonna leave this screenshot from discord to really drive home how the drafting of book 2 is going:

(thank you @written-in-starlight for your kind contribution to my fuckery)

hi hello so you clicked on the keep reading button, you might as well get a treat for that! here are the snippies that illicited these responses:

Achilles wakes up first, adorably wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his—or is that Icarus’?—hoodie. He looks up at Icarus, the exhaustion and residual grumpiness of being woken up being chased away by unbridled happiness as he practically yells, “He’s awake!” He doesn’t stay in bed, jumping to the ground and rushing out into the living room as the words leave his mouth. Apollon takes longer to rouse, grumbling and trying to go back to sleep by curling around Icarus’ waist and pressing his face into his stomach. Icarus smiles down at him, a surprisingly genuine small smile, one that holds years worth of carefully hidden love and affection. He takes a moment to look at Apollon in a way he hasn’t had the chance to since the blond showed up in his apartment. Apollon has grown a lot in their time apart, that much was obvious. He is all harsh angles, sharp edges where Icarus distinctly remembers soft curves that he always loved to trace. He looks good, despite looking less human than ever. An effect of the Elysian Program, no doubt, looking like a spectre that has known never-ending stress for the past 10 years instead of love and care. His olive skin is glowing, his hair splayed out on Icarus’ charcoal sheets like a golden halo. His face is soft with sleep, his lips slightly parted and oh so tantalizing. They look soft, Icarus knows they’re soft. He reaches a hand up, moving to touch them but diverting at the last moment to reach up to his own cracked and dry lips. He wishes he had the chance to see his person grow into this gorgeous man, wishes that he could have ever had a chance to exist at his side.

and (this one is very rough, like this is still in my outline level of detail kinda rough)

Apollon uses Icarus’ neck as a chew toy on the one side, biting down hard as Icarus moans, bucking his hips up into Apollon’s. Icarus knots his hand in Apollon’s hair, tugging hard on the blonde strands, trying to re-gain dominance. Apollon growls at that, biting down hard again before saying “You are mine.” Icarus pushes Apollon’s hips forward as he backs against them again, getting so incredibly turned on by the possessiveness. That is, until he whispers in agreement, saying “I’m yours.” Then, Apollon pulls away, wiping his mouth as he looks down on Icarus with disdain or disgust. A sneer on his lips as he turns away and says “I thought you said I didn’t own you.”

ANYWHO thanks for checkin out this update! I can't wait to talk more about book 2 as it takes form!! I'm hoping to have it ready to go in 2026 at the latest, if not ready to publish by the end of 2025!

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[omc-if]

“I am yours until you tire of me. ”

Free as the wind, they soar up above with wings of Icarus. Fleur wears her heart on her forehead, a courageous princess who seeks nothing but to sail away free as the birds in the sky. Bound by nothing but her title.

APPEARANCE : chopped straight black hair and kind grey eyes strinkingly similar to her brother, Régis if not for the starlight of freckles that traces her skin.

ROUTE : forbidden love, two person love triangle (mistaken identity)

“Would you really be willing to never part with me?”

Quick to bite, ferocious and fierce, Clemence is a viper through and through. Far from her birth name, mercy has never been one that she possess. Born from a Consort, pictured as the villainess, so she shall become one.

APPEARANCE : sun kissed skin seemingly blessed by midas himself, her curly red hair and hazel eyes strikes someone as unapproachable.

ROUTE: the bet, intimate relationship, nobody thinks it will work

“I care not of their affections, but why do I find myself yearning for yours?”

She has received the love of the people around her, born from the King's Emperial Concubine and is beloved even by the commoners. Like the princesses in the book, she was the definition of them all.

APPEARANCE: Long wavy blonde hair that shines like the sun's radiance, not any shade you've seen before and skylight blue eyes that twinkles like the star, she is alike to the protagonists that Countess Victorie used to tell you.

ROUTE: friends to lovers, impossible love

[rayne-storm]

AUgust 17 - Wings

Title: SKY-FELL, FEATHERLOSS

Fandom: Pendragon

Bobby Pendragon/Saint Dane (both 20+)

Pendragon is a little less obscure than what I've been playing with lately, but now we're toeing the line with a ship that some people find squicky.

I personally have nothing against Bobby/Dane, with the caveat that both are consenting adults when the relationship starts. I've seen some content that's really lovely, particularly when the revelations from the last book allow for this sort of reincarnated eternals perspective.

Anyways, enjoy this mess!

We had wings, then.

Magnificent, feathery things that rode the air like magic, never once swaying or bowing no matter the acrobatics we would perform up in the sky.

It was a ritual, then, when you had found your beloved, to fly high, high, higher than the mountaintops (though they weren't quite so tall) above the sea, and lock your body around your mate, spiraling down, down, down. As the waters approached, ever closer and more deadly, you would either let go and save yourself by diving into the water, or you would open your wings and glide together. If either partner hesitated, you wouldn't even out right, and someone would get hurt. In the end both would suffer.

We had wings, then, and joy, in our once-upon-a-time.

His were dark as a raven, with beguiling reds and blues peeking out in just the right light. His eyes were golden and his skin tan, and his dark hair was streaked with starlight. His wings were the largest I had ever seen, and I knew that no one could compare in any way, even beyond the superficial feathering.

I had wings too, brown and cream with blue-grey tips, a kestrel, smaller, quieter. No less fierce, though, and my claws were sharpened on fools who thought I could be bothered with them and their desires.

Our falling was inevitable to him, but never to me. Our parting was clear to me from the beginning, but he never realized when we drifted away. His was a life ever-preoccupied by others' troubles and woes.

But in those moments, letting every instinct go and closing my eyes, trusting him, with my life and more importantly my heart, we were one.

Perhaps I should have let go, but cowardice was never my strong suit, and his mighty arms would never have let me second guess his love.

We had wings, then, and hearts not yet hardened by the ways of time and life, by the ways of man and the impermanence of affection.

We had wings, and I knew I should have flown away when things began to change. Not in his eyes or in his heart, but in the world around us.

We had wings and we had eternity, until the sky came crashing down around us, never giving us time to consider that Icarus had never flown too close to the sun, the sun had been drawn to him.

Travelers, we called ourselves, when time began to change.

Travelers, who gave up wings for rings and soulmates for enemies.

We had wings, once, but never again.

We had wings, once, but he plucked my feathers before we could fly away together, condemning us both to the earth, to the land that never once earned our love or trust or bore witness to what we could be.

Though we may spiral, now, it will never be together.

[saelwen]

Lost in Middle-Earth

Thranduil x reader

Part1 / Part2 / Part3 / Part4 / Part5 / Part6 / Part7 / Part8

Summary: Y/n finds herself falling asleep after watching all the Lord of the rings movie on Friday night, tired after a week of studying and working. What will happen when she finds herself in the middle of a forest with orcs running after her

Warnings: None

Words:1,492

(Y/n P.O.V)

I find myself in the middle of nowhere surrounded by a black void. Where the hell am I? Please don’t tell me that I'm in a new fiction world. Game of thrones? Maybe Star Wars, by how I'm surrounded by black, making looks like space. Suddenly a calm masculine voice sounded around me, calling my name. I look everywhere, trying to find who was calling me, “Y/n...” I begin feeling afraid, “Who are you?...Show yourself!” a bright light suddenly appears out of nowhere in front of me, I put my hands on my eyes trying to block the light.  

The light starts to die and a figure stand before me, I move my hands away and a small gasp escapes from my lips. The man before me was large but delicate at the same time, his features were sharp, he has long white hair with yellow shinny eyes. He was wearing a long white robe, flowing around him, like it was made of pure starlight. He was beautiful, “Hello young one.” I took a step back, not knowing if this man was here to hurt or something, “W..Who a..are you?” I was mad for myself for making my voice came out weak, he gives me a lovely smile “Don’t be afraid child. My name is Eru Iluvatar, the creator of Middle-Earth.” what...HE’S THE FUCKING ERU ILUVATAR?? Oh my god...so this whole world it’s true?! But what about Tolkien? He’s the one how created these stories. Eru must had notice my mind going crazy because he took a step towards me and put his hand on my cheek, making my whole body calm down. “W..What’s going on? How this is possible? Middle-Earth is just a fairytale.” he sighs and gives me a little smile “This world it’s not just a fairytale...As you know, Tolkien it’s the author of Middle-Earth stories in your world, am I right?” I nod slowly “Well Tolkien is me.” “WHAT?!” I interrupted him, making him looking at me with a frown. I look down “Sorry...” he nods “As I was saying, Tolkien is me. Before this all stories had happened, even before I created the valar. I found a portal that gave to the dimension of your world, there I was mesmerized by the things and cultures had found. I’ve met all the Gods in every culture and made a new alliance and friends...I knew that the future events that would happen in Middle-Earth so I wrote the stories that you know about Middle-Earth as Tolkien so the legends would live forever.” I was speechless with this new information I just received. So, Tolkien was Eru all the time? There is another DIMENSION?! AND THERE IS MOTHER FUCKING GODS IN MY WORLD??!! Shit...I think I'm going to hell with all the shit I made. “Jesus....So why am I here? In Middle-Earth?” he took a deep breath and sigh “Well....You’ve come from lineage of powerful witches, you are the most powerful that existed in your family. I’ve sent you here to help keep this world at peace, to help people find their peace.” a loud laugh falls from my mouth “Me a witches? That’s a good joke!” my laugh stop when I saw the serious face that he was giving me “Shit..you’re serious. How I could help them if I didn’t even know I was a witches? I don’t even know how to control my powers.” “You will learn with time.” suddenly other voice sounded around us, calling for me “Well child, it’s time for you to wake up. Until next time.” “Wait!!” but he was already gone and everything around me starts disappearing.

My eyes shot open and saw Tauriel trying to wake me up, “My Lady wake up. You will be late for dinner.” she grabs my hand and lead me to the bed where was laid there a beautiful red gown, she helps me change and put my hair in a lovely braid. After that she leads me to where dinner was going to be serve. With all this run, I didn’t have time to process what Eru said to me. Where were I? Was he in my dream?  

We stopped in front of a huge wooded door, Tauriel said something in elvish to the two guards and they open the doors. We walk inside and sitting at the table was a pissed Thranduil, with a glass full of wine, Tauriel shove me inside and leave. I stay there quiet, looking around, not knowing what I should do, “You’re late.” he said with an angry voice “Yeahh...sorry about that, I fall asleep.” he rolls his eyes and point to a chair beside him “Sit!...Let me say this once, you will never be late again. My patience is thin with this type of things.” I roll my eyes “Yes, your majesty.” I said sarcastically. Servants started serving the meal, there were several foods, fruits, salads, bread and others things. I wait until Thranduil have the first bite then I begin eating.

The dinner was quiet, Thranduil never look in my way. I finish quickly, not being very hungry, I take this opportunity to take a better look of him. I’m not going lie, he is really beautiful, with his long silver hair and those ocean eyes, he is breathtaking. But that arrogance it’s not very attractive, he was so different when I woke up, rubbing my cheek softly, helping me sitting up. Seriously I don’t know what happen for him change so tragically, a sigh falls from my lips grabbing Thranduil attention “Don’t you like the food?” I look down to my plate, seeing it’s looks almost untouched “Oh no, it’s really good but I'm not hungry.” he looks to me with a concern in his eyes “Do you feel ill? Maybe I should call the healer after dinner.” I shook my head “No...i’m fine maybe I just need a bit fresh air.” he nods and stand up, giving me his hand “Come with me.” strange....now he’s nice to me? I grab his hand and follow him outside.

Outside was a magnificent garden, with variety flowers and plants. We walk to a small fountain in the middle of the garden and sit there. We stay there for a while in silence, after a moment “Are you feeling better?” he asks, scratching his head “Yes I am. Thank you.” I give him a small smile “Look I want to apologize. I should have been more nice to you.” well,well never in my live I would believe that King Thranduil would apologize “I forgive you. I understand that my story would be a bit strange for you.” he gives me a smile, a true smile. We start talking, he asks what my world looks like, I laugh so much when I told them about cars, planes and other technology, seeing his pure curiosity face, saying that would be great to take an army to the battlefield and other things.  

After a while I start to yawn, “Well it’s late. I will take you to your chambers.” he said, standing his hand for me to take it, I nod and grab his hand, letting him lead me to my room. As we walk, I start to think if I should tell him about my dream of Eru, maybe it’s better if he didn’t know, it would only freaking him out more. We arrive to my chambers, he grabs my hand and kiss it, I feel my face turning red “Sleep well, My Lady.” I nod, saying a small thank you and enter my room.

After closing the door, I change really quick to a nightgown and jump into the bed. I cuddle in the soft's blankets and pillows. Maybe Thranduil it’s not that bad, I sigh and let sleep take over me.

(Thranduil P.O.V)

I walk to my office, still having some work to finish. I sit on the chair, grabbing some papers but I couldn’t concentrate on the words, all that was on my mind was Y/n. Remembering the lovely sound of her laugh, how her soft skin contrasted with her beautiful red gown.  

Oh valar, what’s happening to me? I can’t have feelings for this human?! Maybe I will give her a change, letting her settle down and learn our culture.  

I grab a glass of wine and walk to the fireplace, looking to the flames, thinking about her. Oh my Eru, I'm fucked.

Hey guys!!! New part here. Hope you like it! This one was a bit small but a promise the next one will be better!! Feel free to say what you think and reblog. XOXO  

Taglist: @icarus-fell-in-spring @tigereyesf @yes-captainstark @llama2264 @bowtothewitch @aeryntheofficial @gwendelerynan @crazyonesarethebest

[longeyelashedtragedy]

first impressions of hozier’s wasteland baby! (my first impressions are usually harsh FYI)

it’s REAL hard for me to listen to an entire album of anything through all at once without hating the album, but i’ll give it my best because this is special and i’ve been really excited for this to come out for a lot of reasons

nina cried power: grows on me a little every time. definitely was a smart start to the album. also fits way better on the album than on the EP

almost (sweet music): wow, such a great transition from ncp to this song. i still think this is real Mehhhhhhh lyrically and it will always sound like a paul simon song to me.  musically really strong which saves it and makes it super listenable!!! what’s going on with the rhythm in the chorus? he syncopates it in an interesting way i think, it keeps it fresh. i do love the line “be still my foolish heart” a lot

movement: y’all know how i feel about this song. nfwmb is still the winner, but movement is...WOW.  a fuckin gay anthem, the song that made Verb a word.  if i think about the significance of these lyrics to me i might cry!  the way he slides his voice so seamlessly through the verses, and then we get that Explosion, just damn. even if you can sing in this guy’s range, you still can’t come close to singing how he does. the a cappella at the end!  i always forget about it and then i have a religious experience for real. like suddenly being drop-kicked into burgos cathedral or something. moving on!

no plan: ok, this is the first new to me song on the album so i’ll just fire off first impressions from here on out. bold, catchy instrumental beginning. too bold?  this sounds weird. too like “adult” and the heaviness of it doesn’t match how graceful his voice is.  this sounds like it’d be playing really loud in a forever 21. jfc i’m gonna have to look up lyrics to read along because i can’t ever pay attention to lyrics when there’s Arrangement and Production Happening. 

Sit here and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late

has a gorgeous melody and i’d come back to listen again just for that lol

nobody: a lot of heavy drum intros on this album huh?  omg it’s got that 90s lesbian music organ sound in it.  “It's gin o'clock where I wake up, I don't know” okay edgelord! are you gonna brush your teeth with a bottle of jack? (i say this with love)  this is also sort of too Adult--

But I've had no love like your love, ooh, I'm nobody I'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave

FUCK!!! ABORT!!!!  Wh...that’s so shades of “he is the disobedience that holds us together,” a Ghost line that I love, and it is IMPORTANT.  Wow i loved this so much that the song is already over lol

to noise making (sing): this album is so American. this sounds like a mariah carey song to me lmao. “Your awful heart” is a cool line though.  this is growing on me, but it sounds like such a mashup of 90s genres?  that’s interesting, huh

as it was: oh thank god, an acoustic guitar--that’s not something you’ll hear me say a lot.  i’m 100% here for this traditional, softer sound of his. give me some swampy irish blues shit.  ooh i love when he scoops into his lower register. foxgloved as an adjective. who is this “my baby?” the one nobody fucks with?  oh, i love when he starts low and then suddenly sings the next verse high--it’s like a burst of starlight to the ear!  “Make your good love known to me” is a very pleasing line.  

shrike: i don’t have a lot to say about this song...it’s just really, really good and melty-yellow and reminds me of lying in the sun in central park in the fall. 10/10. also it is so strongly associated with my bffff that it makes me really happy.  listening through again, it’s so perfectly crafted. how can you not get shivers at these instrumental bits? hozier at his best is effortless grace. this song sounds like what his hair looks like. oh, also this sounds really good back to back with as it was

talk: ooooh, intriguing beginning.  bateman brain went “this is related to lady gaga’s ‘teeth.’’  OOOH, these vocals.  HOLY SHIT this just got Adult. 

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee That made him turn around

*

I won't deny I've got in my mind now (Hey, yeah) All the things I would do So I try to talk refined for fear that you find out (Hey, yeah) How I'm imaginin' you

oh my lordt!  Meu Deus!  i had to pause this shit!  this is just dirty, and that bass line ain’t helping!  also, i am SO IMPRESSED that after literally just 2 seconds my brain was like this is in teeth’s family because it totally is.  INSTANT BEST NEW SONG ON THE ALBUM. whomst the fucc is on bass here?  also that outro sounded like it walked straight of of danzig’s unpopular album 6:66 satan’s child which is one of my favorites hahaha

be: damn i’d hate being the song after talk lol.  50 seconds in + reading the lyrics and i have no impressions.  that’s always weird.  i really want to skip this one and like, let it autoplay at some point when i can listen to it less consciously and see if it sinks in?  but i’m not going to skip it because i want to see how dinner & diatribes sounds after it. this brain is a chore friends

dinner & diatribes: another really well-placed transition. be was sort of a weak song in my opinion so this strong, strong song keeps the momentum going.  i made this observation already but i have a great love for when songs are in 3 but are not floofy and waltzy*.  they get such an urgency to them, the rhythm gets super like...Driven. imagine him really wanting to GTFO and Get It Done(TM). it wouldn’t work as well in a traditional 4.  lyrically i think this song is hilarious and indicative of our boy’s personality

*i also LOVE floofy waltzes lol

would that i: more traditional hozier sound. oh, this is is so good!!! like a sunset over a plains state.  let’s go with nebraska because i’ve been to that one and it made a good visual impression lol. wow these lyrics are...really good and relatable.  i think i’m tearing up. this is another song that sounds very “american” but in a very good way. he does american well lol.  ok so like “i’ve handled the wood” is giggle-worthy but i’m definitely tearing up here and i want to BLAST it in the car next time i drive somewhere

sunlight: dude i am not ready for the next song slow your roll here.  i’m not here for the clunky drum on “sunlight, sunlight, sunlight.”

I have been lost in sunlight Flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight All we love is sunlight All we love is sunlight But it is sunlight

yo that’s legit. occasionally there’s something about this that makes me think of a mid-late beatles song, huh.

Each day, you rise with me Know that I would gladly be The Icarus to your certainty Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight You strap the weight of me A death trap clad happily With wax melted, I need to see Under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

shit i need to like...Ruminate on these here lyrics.  so this is a rarity in that i will def listen to this explicitly for the lyrics?

the end is growing on me, it’s pretty. possibly too intensely orchestrated for me though lol 

wasteland, baby!: i love anytime a song starts like this.  he did the thing a lot of artists do where they put a very softe song at the end of an album. what the fuck is this effect on his voice? my synesthesia is really bothered by it. i can’t wait to hear this live and more stripped down.  what a sweet melody, possibly i could pull off singing this one.  the melody makes certain references to shrike, it’s another very melty-yellow song, and i think this is very cool and even cooler if intentional.  it ties the album together well because of that.  so i started out not sure about this song and ended up with goosebumps and loving it, though i don’t usually listen to soft music so i probably wouldn’t listen to it as frequently as a few of these others, if you feel me

to sum up my first impressions:

-nina cried power still just ain’t that gr8 to me, though i respect it 

-i liked this so much better than i thought i would, which is relieving 

-i can’t wait to relisten to these in various ways and get to know them better

-nfwmb reigns supreme as a song still, how did he DO that 

-my first re-listen is gonna be Talk feat. alex ryan’s Dirty Bass Line hell ye

[clavicuss-vile]

25 Days of TES Cheer #6 - Gift!

- @korvanjund for the prompts! Link to the prompt list here !! :))

TLDR: Icarus and Solaris give eachother a gift. aka the boys being soft for eachother again

The day had been pleasant, and agreeable. A warm breeze washed over Chorrol from the west, rustling the leaves of the giant oak that dominated the city square. Around it, as the sun sank below the rolling hills of Colovia, adorning the sky in a bright orange, merchants began to put away their stalls. It was from one of these stalls, that unbeknownst to each other, Icarus and Solaris had each purchased a dagger.

They had agreed to meet on one of the grassy hills just outside the city gates. It was a favourite spot of theirs when in the west, and they always made an effort to visit after a contract when they had the chance. Now, as the sun set, Solaris climbed the last few steps to the top. He found Icarus already waiting, with a small box wrapped in brown paper in his hand.

"Sol!" The vampire almost yelled, his enthusiasm surprising even himself. Solaris held back a chuckle, but allowed a smirk to emerge on his face.

"Looks like someone missed me."

"I haven't seen you all day." Icarus ran an awkward hand through his hair, kicking slightly at the golden-green grass. Solaris zoned his eyes in on the mysterious box.

"And that is?" He asked.

"Oh, um, I bought something. From the market. Today." Icarus uncharacteristically stammered. "... For you." Solaris raised a single eyebrow, in half suspicion and half amusement at the floundering mess stood before him

"For me? You know we still have several months before Saturalia, Magpie." Solaris teased hypocritically, glaringly aware of the gift he himself had planned to give the other the same evening. An awkward coincidence.

"I know, I know. But I've been saving my payments for months for this, so you had better like it."

Icarus handed - no, catapulted - the parcel into Solaris' ring-adorned hands. Up close, he could see just how badly it had been wrapped. The "bow" was more like a frayed tangle of spaghetti, and upon further inspection, the edges of the paper appeared to have been crumpled into place, rather than folded. Wrapping presents, it seemed, was not the assassin's specialty.

"Did Sanguine himself descend from Oblivion to wrap this?" Solaris laughed, looking up from the gift back to Icarus. "I've seen better work from drunk spiders."

"Oh shut up, you've never seen a drunk spider." Icarus pouted.

"Might have. I must admit, this does make me wonder how you manage to do up all those buckles. Should I ask Lucien to make a special exception for our little Magpie?"

"Less of the little! Just cause your mum did it with a high elf." The breton-nord growled, crossing his arms and huffing in mock tantrum.

"Or Clavicus Vile, if you took her word for it." Solaris huffed, rolling his eyes as he tore open the brown paper. Inside was a wooden box, which he opened, before promptly slamming shut upon seeing it's contents. "There is no way you afforded that."

"I told you, months."

Solaris gingerly reached into the box again, drawing out the most beautiful object he'd laid eyes on in his life. It was a dagger, made of the most vibrant opal they'd ever seen, knapped and chiseled like teeth, or running water, or solidified magic. He wasn't sure how to describe it. The spine was adorned with a brilliant layer of silver, running down the blade in thin, intricate spirals, which only illuminated the kaleidoscope of colours projected by the opal. The same silver made up the handle, but this too was spared of no detail. The grip was constructed of interwoven vines of silver, inlaid with tiny bright blue crystals. The same crystals were encrusted in the knapped opal, making the entire blade look like captured starlight. Starlight that pulsed.

Solaris stood in stunned silence. "What is it?" They finally whispered, referring to the gently pulsating blue crystals, cradling the dagger as if he had the fabled Amulet of Kings in his possession.

"I've finally found something that shuts you up? I'll have to inform Lucien at once." Icarus smirked, leaning on a tree. "The shopkeeper said it's aetherium, some magic rock from Skyrim. That's it's name too, by the way. Aetherium."

"I don't even get to name my gift?" Solaris laughed, still in shock.

"Sorry," Icarus threw his hands up in surrender, "She was weirdly adamant it was called that."

"Well... At least you'll get to name yours." Solaris smiled, pulling a gift of his own out of his bag. It was much less visually awe-inspiring than Icarus' gift, a dagger of simple brass-tinted metal, but just above the hilt was an engraving of a sun. Solaris had thought it fitting. Icarus looked between the him and the dagger with a filthy grin on his face.

"That's it?" He cooed. "I spend my life's savings on a dagger that looks like the sky itself, and I get a glorified steak-knife?"

"What, you want me to kiss it?"

"Ha! Maybe."

Solaris' face flushed a deep red. He was perfect, unmatched, at controlling the emotional queues of his elven ears - but he'd never learnt to avoid these telltale signs of his emotions. It made him feel vulnerable. But for Icarus, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. And maybe a chance to toy with the half-nord would make it worth it. Keeping steady eye contact, he lifted the blade to his lips and kissed the small, swirling sun emblem, watching Icarus' cheeks turn an equally intense red. Solaris noted how he matched the now dark pink sky behind them. He looked pretty; eyes wide and innocent.

"I didn't-" Icarus coughed. "Didn't think you'd actually do it."

"Why not? It's only a dagger."

"Yeah. Well. It's got a name now."

"Oh?"

"Solisosculatus." Icarus smiled, staring intently at the ground and running a hand through his hair. Old Cyrodiilic was Solaris' mother tongue, moreso even than modern Cyrodiilic. He knew what it meant instantly.

Sunkissed.

[aesirfalling]

I'm back (before I succumb to caffeine crash) and would like you to answer 25 too for the writing asks tyty

I’m going to kill something I had like 2/3 of this written out and then I misclicked my mouse and lost all my progress

But anyway I was really hoping someone would send in this question since it’s one of my favorites from the question set and it’s about time I tried to compile my favorite lines (lines+, really) from myself

I’m just going to list a bunch of them out and bold the ones that I think ARE actually my favorites

I swear I wasn’t this cranky before I had to rewrite this post all over

My Poetry:

Ourtranscendence, duly witnessed by starlight – wordless reassurances of what fewwould even imagine, let alone speak as we do, breath by seeking breath.

And a farewell wounds more than a thousand deaths, to give up love for this life. Yet to wake is a pledge to live and let die.

(Hiraeth)

In the sea of bones I pick up your pieces And hear your tears breathe through me. With the remnant of your ribcage I will make music.

(Ariadne and the Minotaur)

No one else could strap me onto The diving bell of the world Sink me Love winged into the deep.

(The Diving Bell and the Butterfly)

My Prose:

I dream of my own grave in the middle of nowhere, / Sastrugi and unmarked stone, / My tall frame suffocating under the cave / trying to find you. If I had been buried / with a gear and a rose / Perhaps somewhere in the sky, you’d notice my name.

If the world would call me the electric pulses / that keep the world bright at night, / I want you to be the chorus that reminds me / of what soul is, / the daze as we see the sun / for the first time.

(Summerfall and Dreamheart For @pulsefiire-archived)

Gives away. Gives up. Gives in. Hates giving, stops it, then slaps oneself on the face. Something melts, falls away into a puddle. The music continues. Closes eyes and imagines the lab again. Green lights? Tessellated tiles? Counting the steps before clicking the buttons. Struggling to stay awake. Struggling not to die. Something flickers, and leaves. Falling in love with phantoms. There was supposed to be a family once. / Blinking sepia eyes.

(Sepia for @overcompensates)

But I want to play the sewn doll, play at truth and empathy, play at wonder and loss in one package. I want to play in a world with you.

(Ciel to Aria)

His visage blurred. My hands weren’t shaking, and I wasn’t crying, but I suddenly felt the room grow cold. I craved his kisses more than ever before. One more. Just one more. His pained blind eyes at saying no. Broken hands. Him collapsing onto his knees in front of me, what remained of his hands shaking violently as they cupped my bruised cheeks. His face. His face. The cracks. The tears. I love you, I love you, I love you.

I have to walk across thousands of flowers and thorns to find him, and as he breathes and dies – sinks into the center of the maze, sinks into disappearance – none of us are allowed to stop and grieve.

(Aria on Ciel)

Well, don’t leave until you finish, I say, and press my lips against hers. She doesn’t need the kiss. She needs the oxygen.

(Urania on Aria)

And you cracked, because all roads to the sun were paved with the sacrifice of Icarus.

(Episteme)

Hope Estheim waits.

And waits.

And waits.

(It never gets any easier.)

(The child with the carbuncle doll, waiting for the commute bus together with him in the rain: “onii-san, what are you waiting for?”)

(Faith)

You covered your dream-ears with dream-hands, pleaded with your dream-voice for someone to unplug your time capsule and save you from your screams. They didn’t stop. They are in your head, even now. Augusta Tower is crawling with their ghosts.

Carve your name into his bones.

The tears fall freely at last, a curtain of rain. They don’t drown or weigh you down: you sublimate. He reaches for you with pale ungloved fingers and feels only the emptiness of air. The spring in his eyes falters, the past four hundred years rewinding past them all in an instant, affection, fear and regret all intermingling to draw out a wish for you to stay. You can’t fulfill or obey.

(And the Sky Tonight is Luminous)

The world falls out of orbit with her, and it’s not going to come back. / The black poppy is the black heart of war.

(Black Poppy)

Pain came in waves, periods when color and touch were stripped away and you were left in the utter mercy of a malfunctioning machine, the one thing that you couldn’t either replace or fix. It hurt. It hurt and it wouldn’t end. It hurt and nothing existed beyond the hurt, hurt demanding conservation of hurt in itself, the supreme God of all things that were hurting.

Looking back hurt too much.

You were trying your damn hardest to pave the longest fucking way to hell.

(Euterpe)

How often do wounded scientists find each other? Dreamers who wanted more than all else to feel wanted - to feel like they’ve had a hand in creating a brighter future - only to become disillusioned by what this world really is? His wit is the sharpest I’ve ever seen - persistent - shrewd - and there’s a charm in the way he speaks, a fallen brilliance that flares like a pulsar. In all of it his humanity speaks, denser than anything, craving, faltering. He wants to be loved. And I’d be damned if I don’t love him.

Words fail me, so: I kiss you.

You don’t believe in poetry, but I can lean close onto your Cupid’s bow, love you when you can’t, show you the affection that bleeds over boundaries and ideals and everything I’ve said I stand for. I was never like Caitlyn, the kind of hero who could leave a crying child in the darkness to save a building from collapsing onto itself. I needed that child; I needed him to smile up at me, pinch my cheeks, pull my hair. I needed him to tell me that today humanity didn’t fail him, that someone thought he was worth saving, even if he might just turn out to be a lifetime criminal.

And don’t you look like a child now, flustered and backing up against the wall, not sure what to do with your third arm, your hands fumbling for a block?

“Just trust me on this,” I say almost lazily, easily pull your hands aside, and then - eat my share of the forbidden fruit, that primal sin of love that once gave birth to life itself.

(Bride of Ice, for @communistofzaun)

In his dreams he walks up to Jinx again, finally answering her question. He strips away the cozy jacket, throws out the gears, and shows her his chest. Why do I hide it? It’s just a field full of empty.

“Zap that.” Maybe it could work as a defibrillator.

She frowns. “It wouldn’t do enough damage.”

He laughs. “Only if we don’t try.”

(Night Visions.Finale)

Come, Bhunivelze, he says finally, opening his arms above the heart of a Bhunivelze that is and will always be his, raising his head defiantly under a ceiling of stars drowned out by despair and chaos. The God stirs in his cosmic presence, scintillating-intense-wanting. The invisible l’Cie mark etched above his pulse once again feeds on human blood, yearns now for his whole soul.

The God will consume him. He has no illusions of mercy and grandeur. His soul will be thrown carelessly into the chaos; if he is lucky, light will shatter his heart into a million pieces. Pain will be as breathing, loss as heartbeat. To step into the radiance of divinity; never forget that you will burn.

The last few exhales are filled with longing, the stain of love and sin. He produces something from his hands and wraps all his sins tightly around his neck. Memories flicker by in a flash, laughter and embrace and human belief. There are things that he must remember. There are things in this universe worth dying for.

This is not the end of the war. It’s the beginning of the next one.

God’s satisfaction looms. The first touch illuminates and warms his skin; the second one incinerates his final words in a searing supernova down to the nerve endings of his fingertips. The phoenix always chooses to die; it is only through its faith that it gains the right to rise. His obstinacy spits out the words, demands the price. Let us form a covenant.

God’s will reverberate back in his own tone within his own skull, hurling him, as a comet, straight into the next two centuries of perpetual night. The worlds are mine.

(From What We Cannot Hold)

[amarielugama]

Wishes of Sunset and Moondust

Rating: T

Pairing: John Lennon/Paul McCartney

Prince & stable boy AU - Romance - Fairytale - Pining - Fluff

Wishes of Sunset and Moondust

Sunset in your eyes. Moondust in the lining of your skin. What hope did I ever have?

He had been in love with the prince of sunset eyes and moonlit skin for as long as he could remember, his sweetshop window, wishing for an impossible dream. He was but a stable boy by the name of John, just John, working in the dirt, and longing for the stars.

He remembered, still, the laughing face of the prince that day long gone, back when he had those cherub cheeks flushed with infancy, and he was so small everyone else was but legs. That day, he had heard a laugh in one of the stables, bell bright, and was drawn to it. A boy was there, patting a horse and giggling as the great beast nuzzled his palms splayed out over a pearled coat. John did not know yet who this boy with candied lips was, and so, he spoke to him.

“Hi!”

“Oh, hello!” The boy answered, his voice high and clear. He smiled, and John smiled back. Charmed.

And then they where running out of the stables, chasing each other through the palace gardens, laughing, pretending to be pirate and sailor, toppling over each other and onto the flower bushes.

“I’ll come back to play.” The boy had squealed, after, throwing his little arms around the John. And the stable boy held the prince, tight.

He did not return.

John still saw him, sometimes, dreaming with his eyes open. And in his dreams, the prince who was not yet a prince, played in the sky and the stars tangled up in his hair. It was years later, when he came back.

The prince came again, and this time, John knew who he was. He tilted his head to watch John, birdlike, and a lock of hair fell to his eyes, black as a raven’s wing. And his eyes themselves— they were green and hazel at the same time, like sunset above blades of grass, and overflowing with lashes so dark they looked oiled. John knew young princes were not meant to be beautiful; handsome, yes, dashing, perhaps— but prince Paul was. He was beautiful, and John found he had forgotten to breathe. Just as the prince had forgotten about him. There was no sign of recognition in his eyes, But then again, why would the sun remember a dying star?

“Hello.” He said. His lips were red-bitten.

John blinked, tried for a smile. “Your highness.” He bowed. His heart beat, frantically.  “Is there anything you need help with?”

The prince kept watching him. He drew the flesh of his bottom lip between his teeth, and bit down, softly. John watched as it was let go, curling back into place, gently, the colour waning back into carmine.

He asked for a horse. John’s hands shook as he handed him a mare, coat glossy black as the pelts of river cats, and lined in silver fur.

“Show me how to mount.” The prince ordered, though his face was kind.

So he did.

The prince was a fast learner. John missed, after, the moments when he could fit Paul against his body, feeling the sinews of shoulders against his breastbone. Then, wrapping his arms around his waist, as his calloused fingers gave up the reigns to smooth hands. Hearing him laugh as the mare trotted, and then when she began to run, asking John to hold him tighter, please, lest he would fall.

The lessons stopped.

The prince could mount, and could mount well. And yet, he kept seeing John. As he walked through the gardens, stride unhindered by the swish of robes, he called John to his side to help him fend of boredom. Going to look for the mare, in preparation for a hunting trip or a race, the prince called him. Visiting him for godstars knew why, as the only explanation he gave was how tired he was of the palace and the courtiers.

John could not escape him. He was sun-drunk, addicted to him. Every smile was a drop of warm honey, every touch witchlight that bewitched him further. His heart ached, begged for relief on those rare days when the prince did not go looking for him. And like an addict, when his drug returned, he felt the high of it, the way his breathing caught and his heart sped up, wild and soft, like the chaos of moth wings.

One day, when the prince was celebration his twenty first birthday, he vanished from the party.

And oh, what a party it was.

The music drifted downhill, lilting lutes and cadenced guiras, lyrics speaking of desire and forbidden loves. The women’s dresses were flowers blooming and closing up, dancing to the music in a flurry of lace and the colours of a meadow. Couples strung together, shoulders and hips winding, men spinning their partners away, and then whisking them back close, skirts slashing the air as they twirled.

Still, Paul had chosen to go look for him.

They ran to the forest, giggling like the little boys they had been, once upon a time, fingers entwined. They reached a clearing where fireflies throbbed golden, as ripened stars falling from the sky, and flowers dreamt themselves suns.

John picked one up, and tucked it into Paul’s hair. He blushed. John watched it happen. The way his cheeks budded crimson, roseate warmth cast golden in the glow pulsing from the flower. He wanted to kiss that blush down his cheeks and into his neck, see where it ended.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating?” He asked.

“I wanted to celebrate with you.” Paul whispered, and his words blew breath over John’s face. He had not realized they were standing this close. Close enough to see the dusting of freckles on his nose, even in the dim light. He was suddenly very aware of his skin, the way it tingled and pleaded to touch Paul’s.

Rather, he curled his hands into fists. Not in anger, no. It was the sign of someone sorely tempted, and unwilling to give in.

So he watched Paul, and Paul watched him, beneath the starlight, beneath the moon shaped into a smile.

“I wanted to invite you.” Paul said. His breath smelt of wine and cake icing.

“It’s okay, your highness.” John answered. He felt lightheaded.

“Please don’t call me that. I’m Paul, just Paul.”

“Okay just Paul.” John answered, and his eyes twinkled. “Can… can I call you Paulie?”

“God— of course you can, Johnny, of course.”

And John smiled at him, a wrecked smile.

Paul spoke again.

“I tried to get my father to invite you, but he would not hear of it.” He darkened his voice. “So I came to you, instead.”

John’s gaze flitted to Paul’s rosebud lips, and he wondered at their colour, at how they might taste and feel between his own.

Paul saw him watching.

“Do you want a taste?” He asked, and his voice was velvet. It was the first time John wondered at how it might sound laced around song.

He looked up into his eyes. “What?”

Paul smiled, and his smile was a promise. He craddled John’s face, and kissed him.

At last.

It was rose petals and gossamer, the taste of wine and the feel of soft, soft flesh, faces gliding together as lips tasted, tentative and shy, merely flirting with the other, and both realised they had not known of the wonder of lips.

But then it was not just lips, and the wonder of them. John’s tongue, curious, slipped out and he taste those lips, once. Sweet as poured honey, dizzying as iced wine. The parted for him, for him only, and John heard himself groan, deepening the kiss.

It was the wonder of curious tongues and teeth venturing out to nibble, softly, and yet nothing was better than the wonder of hands, hands and arms and fingers everywhere, John’s arms draped around Paul’s waist, drawing him close, so close, as though to melt with him, into him. They might find the limit to melting, together, if there was. But John prayed there was not as he heard Paul moan, and wished to melt into him forever.

“Don’t stop kissing me, don’t ever stop, Johnny—” Paul begged, breathing hard.

“Wasn’t planning to, love.” John murmured, ever so softly, and it was true— he could not stop kissing Paul, and so he kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, vicious kisses, kissing him breathless, senseless, until the prince was shaking in his arms. Not with fear, but passion.

“Stars—” Paul gasped, and he began to press hot little kisses to John’s jaw, his cheek, his mouth— and John was hazy with desire, drunk on his closeness and the heat of his skin, and the sounds he made; because Paul was the sun and John was Icarus, and would fly too close, far too close— but what sweeter death could there be than by the kiss of sunlight? He was going to die kissing Paul, and he found he did not care.  

“Johnny— oh John—”

“Hmmm, yes love?”

“John I—” He could not stop kissing John long enough to speak.

“Mmhm?”

“I need— ohhh, stars… John—” He tried again, breaking off the kiss. John listed after him, trailing him, a leaf spun on a river current. He captured those lips again, and kissed him, one, two, three, four, almost eight times before Paul, giggling, pulled away again.

“Mm, Johnny, hear me out—” He spoke through a laugh.

“Paul, oh Paulie, my love, I c-can’t stop, can’t…” John said, and his voice was wrecked. He buried his head into Paul’s throat and drew the white skin into his mouth, and suckled softly. Paul arched his neck, a silent plea that sent waves of heat pooling between John’s legs.

“Johnny, listen—” He managed, goosebumps chasing in his skin at the feel of open lipped, wet kisses trailing down his neck.

“I love you John.”

John stilled at those words. The glistening shape of his lips curved up Paul’s neck, blooming bruises as purple carnations.

“Look at me.” Paul whispered.

And John did.

Paul’s eyes glistened, like his neck.

“I love you. Stars, I’m in love with you, so in love with you… ” He pressed butterfly kisses all over John’s face.

“Paulie, I—”

“Shhh, let me finish, darling.” Paul cooed, his face brimming with so much adoration John’s heart ached.

“Four years, Johnny. Four years, and I think I’ve loved you since the beginning. God, what you do to me…” There was an edge of insanity to his voice. “I’m so in love with you I can’t breathe.” He said, and tucked his sweet, sweet head into John’s curls. John felt him breathe in, and tightened his hold, impossibly so, around that crescent waist.

“You can speak now.” Paul said, and there was an undercurrent of a smile in the words.

“I— your highness, Prince Paul, Paulie, my love, I—” John began, stuttered. His heart would not stop beating— fast and irregular, like a pair of trapped wings. “I’ve loved you my whole life. Since that day, when I was seven years old and you came and…” The words caught, briefly, in his throat. “And we played pirates and sailors.”

“Oh darling—”

“Then we meet, ten years later, and you’re beautiful and charming and funny, the prince, the belle of the palace, and I’m but a stable boy, loving you from a dream, and I—” He pause, took a deep breath. “I am in love with you. I love you so much I cannot even wrap my mind around it. I only know I love you, and always will.”

“My love—”

“But, your highness—”

“Paul.”

“Paulie.” John felt him smile into his hair. “Paulie, how can a stable boy ever be with a prince?”

Paul looked at him with those eyes of his, dreamy and obscure, a song half translated into a beautiful new chord, and John knew he would love him forever.

And when the prince smiled, he felt set alight.

“Like this.” Paul said, and pushed him to the ground, laughing, the sound wild and free, as they rolled through the grass beneath the starlight, until he was splayed below John, glowing and giggling, and his sunset eyes filled with so much love John could not breathe.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

And John knew, then, that he had dreamt himself wings and flied too close to the sun. But who was he, to say no to sunlight? So the stable boy kissed his love into the prince’s lips and neck, and every inch of skin, beneath the starlight, beneath the moon shaped into a smile.

[chieftn]

☮

could you imagine it? me without you  -  disastrous, maddening. 

       THEY LOOK AT YOU LIKE ALL OF YOUR WOUNDS ARE ANOTHER HOME FOR ALL OF THEIR GODS THAT THEY’D RATHER HAVE FORGOTTEN,  BY NOW.    they  take  one  glance  at  you  and  your  bleeding  heart  and  say    :   him,    he   is  not  like  us.    look  at  his  body,   look  at  his   bones.   more   BEAST THAN BOY,   THESE  DAYS.   they  knock  you  down  and  pray  for  another  savior,   for  another  day.    you  return  to  the  back  of  the  crowd,   and  when  the  light  is  right,   your  body  looks  like  WINTER.   all  old  scars  that  look  too  normal,  too cold.   back  here    -   you  make  your  deathbed  the  same  way  you  always  have.   tuck  in  the  corners,   rap  the  wood  with  your  knuckles.   sturdy.   stable.   a constant,  even if it is not yours.         YOU WANT TO FIND PEACE IN THIS PLACE,  but you don’t know where to begin.   each pyre,  each seastack,  zephyr   &   seastorm   -   they hover like OBELISKS ON THE HORIZON   -   heaven haunting.   a reminder of how big this world is  /  how much there is to it that you have never seen.   how danger lurks out there,   as well,   but one look at the fleeting sun setting fire to the sky   -   and your fate is easier to forget, for the moment.   but the moon is a more  FRAUGHT COMPANION,   barely lit dusks accompanied by  DRAGONS,  BEASTS  with firestorms in their stomachs and acid underneath their tongues.   you grow up hearing the bitter taste of the words in their mouths   -   MONSTERS with no remorse.  you try your tongue at spitting it out the same way,  but it never fits right between your teeth.   never leaves the same kind of aftertaste.   IT SETS YOU APART FROM THEM  -  something off with your eyes.   your bones.   they look at you like this softness has RUINED YOU.    they are wrong.            IN THE COVE,  you tie your   heartstrings   to his   wings   that day.    you start counting time in the beat of his wings,   and oh,   campfire smoke calls you home but this   -   this is something different.    they called him NIGHTMARE EYES,   BLACK AS THE DEEPEST NIGHT,   but instead   -   they glaze over with the same wonder as yours.   his scales are the kindest fire you have ever known,   THEY COULD NOT HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG ABOUT YOU.   this beast,   your friend,   he makes FURY OF YOU,   but it is lighthearted,   with a fierce kind of protectiveness.   it shakes your chest,   and something HAPPENS   -   the sky sings your names   -   gentle, celestial.   you become,  without really knowing it.   making this friend   -   it is best thing you have ever done. 

   in the beginning of the dream,  your deepest self is   careless.   you dream the whole world and think nothing of it.   it is a  pure  kind of otherness.   you make sense of the dark,  and you trust to each far corner of the horizon.   there are halos on your skin,  starlight highlighting every scale beneath you.   here,  it is just  you  and  he  and the endless sea of the sky above you.   it is   -   an indescribable feeling.   it is beautiful.   it is endless,  too,  maybe.   you hope.   you  DARE  to hope  -   for just this.     always,   it is always,   just this. here is the secret of sleep   :   there is no place you know where sadness makes sense,  even up here,  so high above the grass and rock.   every dream turns nightmare if you’re alive long enough.  in the dream,  your house is full of quiet empty rooms.  wait.   dream  /  reality.   both are quiet,  both are empty.   which is real?   both.   next question.  here,  the island is vacant.   it has always been like this   :   trees and rough dirt and these mountains full of dying stars.   always cold.   always lonely.   have you ever known anything different  ?

     THE HARVEST MOON BLOSSOMS ABOVE YOU AND YOU KNOW   -   that this is not the whole story.   thoughts of   COMING OF AGE  and   BECOMING   fade away with the crimson tempura paint that stains your cheeks.    your fate is mingled    &    murmured among fates,  the gods.   you are a  MESSIAH  to your people.   you break apart with the WHOLE WORLD,   and they understand.   when you fall  /  they will understand.   so,  here is the question   :   which are you?    ATLAS?    WORLD-BEARER?   ICARUS?  SUN FELLED?  which will it be?   CHOOSE  /  OR BE CHOSEN FOR.    either way,   you fall.   

              you sit in a field,  with the night beside you.   GLORY burns between you.   DIVINITY,  but also   :   freedom.  hope  -  something that outshines the morning sun.   YOU EMBODY A MYTH TOO OLD TO UNDERSTAND IN WORDS,  LANGUAGE HAS NO SYLLABLES FOR A FEELING LIKE THIS.   instead,  there are scenes   :   lost above the clouds,  the sky the purest blue.   so bright you could drown in it,  even this high above the sea.   feeling your heartbeat in your throat   -   ADRENALINE HIGH,  ATMOSPHERE ASTOUNDED.   a heart that is never broken.   something that LIVES FOREVER,  AMONG HEARTS,  even after the pages and stories have worn away with time,  even after you are forgotten.   it is   -   a comforting thought.     the scene shifts,   night   /   day   /   twilight,  AND HERE,  YOUR BEST FRIEND STANDS BEFORE YOU,  CHAOS IN HIS EYES.    teeth bared,  pupils slitted.    lives up to the name    -    fury  /  fury  /  fury.    and by the gods,  you stand afraid.    ask them to show you how to BEGIN AGAIN   -   to dreams clouds on your ceiling.   for the breathtaking swirl   /   twists of first flights.    to never experience this again.   but this world,  these gods,  they are not kind  :  you know this.  you have lived this,  haven’t you  ?

   ❛   TOOTHLESS,   ��PLEASE   !   ❜     there  are  formalities  -  to  this.   when consoling a wild dragon,  keep your distance.   keep your stance wide,  your palms out.   you are NOT A THREAT.   don’t AGGRAVATE,  ALLEVIATE.   stay calm.   but your breathing comes out quick  -  too fast,  can’t catch it,  and you are  BOTH LOST,  ONE WITHOUT THE OTHER,   in turn,  the world starts to spin.   colors mix,  the sky cracks,  and  A SHOT IS FIRED,   but you  -  you are spared.   this has happened before.   this has taken something from you,  and it shakes your chest.   it feels too real,  for this dream.   a different kind of memory.   one that never leaves,  but  -  hovers.   hits.   takes.   always   -   always takes.                              AFTER EVERYTHING,  THERE IS JUST THIS   :    you do not want to be alone again.      not after everything.   not like this.    but if   -   he wants to leave,   you will let him.    even if it hurts.    even if it’s hard.    you open your eyes to that same cove,   that same spring green.    toothless,    YOUR BEST FRIEND,  HALF OF YOUR SOUL,    is a blurry shape off the horizon line.   you watch until he fades back into the blue you two know so well,   so intimately.    your saddle lies in the grass,   a kind of archaicness settling into it,   now.    already.    the end comes too quickly,   YOU KNOW THIS,   BUT PLEASE,   PLEASE   -   just a little longer.     let me say goodbye.             at the end,  you fade  /  you fall.   no one calls for you.   it isn’t FREE-FALL,  it isn’t FLIGHT,  it is silent.   no wind.   too gentle  /  too easy.  feels like the moment mid-slip,  maybe.   or just before you fall asleep.   too graceful for your bones.   it isn’t  -  it isn’t you.       a gentle    nudge   to your body knotted in blankets wakes you with a start,  heavy breaths and a slight slouch to your posture.  sweat clings to you  -  hair,  skin, cloth.   pupils dilate   &   shrink as you decipher your room    -    empty  /  not empty.    a smile spreads small on pale lips,  as clammy palm reaches to rest on the dragon’s snout.   

       ❛   hey,  bud.   ❜    the first thing you see is yourself  -  in such familiar green eyes.    slow breath,  and the nickname comes out softer,  easier on your lungs.    the world comes into view,  slowly,  the darkness settling into his scales,  your skin.   comfort seeps into the air.    ❛   wanna bunk with me  ?  c’mon.  ❜

    MISTAKE-NAMED,  tell me what it’s like to be holy  /  scaled.    stubborn boy,  worst viking to step foot here,  on these hills   -   tonight,  no poetry will save you.    tonight,  the big dark sky will open up it’s constellation-lined jaw and it will swallow you down whole.    there is no stopping things like this,  there have never been.   it is a  WAITING GAME   -   where even the gods are subject to time.   even monsters,  even  dragons.

       but here,  in the  WINTER CHILL,  everything is quiet.    you breathe,  and the dragons are still here.    your house is not empty.    on this night,  pretend the constellations are yours,   both of yours,   and pretend the world will be wide enough for the both of you,   always. 

[tarkussenpai]

Ignore that last version, it was old and not edited.  This was is and has much more written!

Thanatos

Introduction

Thanatos, the Legendary God of Death, whose name brews fear in the hearts of his enemies, was not always the great embodiment of strength he is today, Thanatos was once a child like the rest of us –not quite as we were– but honoree as they come.  The Death God had to wake up and decide, would he be the savior this land needs, or be a catalyst for its destruction...  Born from the Primordial Deity Erebus, the true body of Chaos; and The Goddess Nyx—Night Incarnate—who stood at the beginning of creation.  This unholy match created many children, but Thanatos stood above the others, he directly inherited the strength of his Father, and that chaos broods deep beneath his skin, aching and roaring at him to unleash it, but this is countered by the love and compassion he had received from his beautiful mother of the night; Love and Hate battled within him, his kind heart tempted by the roar in his blood..  As a boy, Thanatos’s parents had begun to see that strength and had realized they could not release him as he is, so together they put a lock inside of Thanatos, a chain on him that would only unleash his full hell wrenching power when he was in dire need of it, then sent him as a gift to earth, to the Kingdom of Icarus to watch over and train as they see fit.  The King and Queen were resting in their palace chambers, an ornate room of gold and silver, a chandelier hung from the ceiling shining dim lit light across the beautify glowing room.  Burgundy curtains draped across the floor covering the entrance to the balcony, a wind blew in and tossed the drapes aside.  The couple rose from their bed and walked towards the opening and saw a boy upon their balcony, in a basket made of starlight, sleeping softly, his skin golden-tan in the sunlight with hair black as night and beautiful eyes, a crimson red swirling like fire in a pool of starlight.  The couple fell in love with the baby the moment they saw it, but the joy was cut short—for Nyx was there to greet them, “Tis’ a beautiful child, is it not?  I must say, I really out did myself.” The King and Queen studied her for a second, pursing their lips, and the queen resting her hands on her hips. “Who are you, and why are you in our home?  Answer my question before I call the guards!” The queen demanded.  “Oh hush up child; you would not want to anger a Goddess of Night, would you?” With that they dropped to their knees, bowing to the Goddess, “Much better, now do not speak until I say so, listen for a moment. This child is Thanatos; he is my strongest child and needs a home, for the underworld is not safe for him as a child, because I have enemies who would love to see him killed...  So I offer you both this…Take the child, and my blessings, raise him as your own and take care of him, but make him strong, train him, breed him if you must, but he is to not leave your protection until he’s ready, or you die...Whichever comes first...”  The two stayed quiet for a moment, scanning her words for a trap, then stood not all too fast, never dropping their gaze from the Goddess’s eyes--Then spoke—“Lady Nyx, we accept the child, we will raise him to be our own, and promise to train him to become the greatest warrior this land has ever produced..” A cold smile tugged upon Nyx’s lips, as excitement grew in her, “I guess it is settled then, but before I go, I wish for him to never know of his origin, let him believe you two to be his parents.” With that, darkness swirled around her, stars bent towards her as they swallowed her up, leaving nothing but a darkened mist where she stood, and then she was gone…  The queen stepped forward counting each step, as she approached the baby in its crib of starlight.  She stared at it for a moment, and then lifted him to her arms, the baby could not have been more than a few months old, just holding him, his warmth filled her arms, that warmth from the fiery chaos that festered within him –this baby was special... The King stepped closer and wrapped his arms around them both . . . This is how Thanatos began, abandoned by his godly parents and left to be raised by humans. . . .Now I shall tell you my story, and how I became the single strongest God of Death to ever carry souls to the underworld…

 Chapter One

I was fifteen years old when the admirals first met me; and now that I was eighteen, the three men strapped with fighting leathers and armed to the teeth were back, one almost looked about my age.  They examined me, watching every breath I made, and feeling for any hint of strength beyond that of a normal boy.  One stepped forward and spoke to me, “Well boy, your mother here believes you to be stronger than any one of my men, and you’re going to get the chance to prove her right.” I gave him a weary look and watched as he turned towards the others then beckoned me to follow them, so I did. Before this I was not allowed outside of the royal wing of the palace, the halls seemed to stretch for miles upon miles.  The tapestry was beautiful, it was like our entire history was being told through the murals on these walls, there was ‘The Battle of the West’, where the three kingdoms came together and fought off invaders from across the sea, and at the end was a picture of blood and gore and death, so much happening in one frame, blades clashing, bursts of fire sprang out, I looked down to read the inscription, “I Megali Sfagi”, The Great Slaughter of our capital city, I kept moving past, I never wanted to see that painting again..  On my way, I counted every door, every guard, and every servant on the way there; calculated every possible exit and the time it would take to get out them. Before I knew it, we were in the underground sparring arena, a dingy room, barely lit, and covered in mud and blood.  To the left, a large rack of weapons laid: Swords, axes, bows, crossbows, shields, and maces; everything you could need for training and to the right dozens of soldiers mindlessly sparring amongst each other, breaths of fire, ice, and shock shot from random soldiers.  The Skotal, I knew of these soldiers, they were written in legends as being fiercely loyal and brutal killing machines on the battlefield. Three men were lined up outside of the pit that lay in the center of the training arena, all well built with Skotal fighting leathers wrapped tight, each one with a blade streamed across their belt and a dagger tied to their calves.  As we neared the soldiers and the pit, pain shot through my back when one of the admirals boots connected with me and sent me tumbling in to it, mud caked my clothes as I stood and whirled towards the man who did it, it was the eldest admiral; the younger one wincing as the eldest one spoke, “Come on boy, your mother insulted my soldiers and now you’re going to learn the hard way, just how strong my men are!”  After he said that, one man stepped into the pit with me, unlatching his blade from his belt, and tossed me the dagger strapped to his calf.  I grabbed it then lifted my gaze to his eyes, fear started to swell up in me, I had barely reacted in time as the man lunged at me, I tried to dodge his blade but a fist to the stomach caught me by surprise, knocking the wind out of me as I crumpled to the mud..  I took a heavy breath and stood back up, he was already charging me. I tried to dash out of his way, but was still slow from the last hit; his sword caught my side, lacerating a deep cut, wincing from the pain I caught my feet then dashed back, slamming my shoulder into his waist.  Then man staggered back, but I didn’t let up, next my fist caught him in the ribs, then another in his gut.  The soldier tried to catch up, but kept fumbling as my hits landed, strike after strike, in the midst of sweat, blood, and tear; my dagger finally found his heart, I plunged it deep, bones crunching and cracking under the blade.  I saw the life leaving his eyes, and the pain wretched across his face as he fell, his breaths ending as he hit the floor. . .I killed him…  The eldest admiral roared with delight “That’s more like it, maybe you’ll make a soldier yet!” I collapsed to my knees in the mud and just peered at my hands, the blood now coating them.  My arms felt weak and begun to shake, tears began to well in my eyes . . . I’ve never killed someone before, what is wrong with me, this was just supposed to be a sparring match . . . My eyes found the admiral, still smiling from my work, he reached a hand out to me as he spoke, “Boy-” I shot him a wild glare “My name is Thanatos!  Stop calling me boy!”  The room hushed until only the clashing of steel and the swash of mud was all that could be heard.  The admiral slowly pulled back his hand, "Yes, well, Thanatos, I see much promise in you and I wish to see that skill grow and refine into something this kingdom can use.  Train with Ave here,” He gestured to the youngest admiral,  “and we can see how much promise is actually there."  I stopped for a moment, still shook from the blood that stained me, the sweat in my eyes and the mud that covered my clothing, I glanced up at him again "When do we start?"

The next few days were for resting after what I had done, my room was a mix of black, blue, and red; lights hung in every corner, my walls were black as the void and my ceiling was as blue as the night sky with lights scattered across it like stars.   I had a large central window next to my bed that overlooked the bustling city, my bed was a huge antique kings bed with crimson sheets that contrasted the room like a blood pool on dark concrete. I was dressed in my casual attire, black satin night pants, and a deep blue sweater gaped in the middle showing off my chest.  I stood from my bed a gracefully walked to the window, I saw merchants in their stands, selling different kinds of goods and foods; I saw soldiers walking down the street, citizens fawning and wishing them well as the strode pass on their routine patrols; there were children shouting and running, playing tag in the streets, and causing trouble for the merchants, I let out a quite chuckle at the sight of that.  But at the end of the pier, I couldn’t drag my eyes away, there was a girl there, maybe a little bit older than I, she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I caught myself from falling out the open window, my breath was horse, I had to go meet her, but as I attempted to sneak out my room, the guards instantly caught me and sent me back in, with that I realized I wasn’t going to win this so I got back up on my bed and closed my eyes to go to sleep, I had training to do tomorrow and this girl wasn’t going to get in the way of that.  After a few hours I awoke to the youngest Admiral, from a few days ago, kicking at my bed. Once he saw my eyes open he began “Today we’re getting right to business, no messing around under my wing.  By the way, I never properly introduced myself; call me Avery, Admiral Avery.” Avery helped stand me up and looked me over, after giving a weary look he spoke again “I expect you to be up and ready everyday by six in the morning Thanatos.”  My eyes went wide, “Six?!  I’m barely asleep by six!” He just gave me a wild smile then beckoned me to follow him. As we left, the guards who previously gave me an unnerving growl every time they saw me, now bowed in respect to the Avery and I.  The hall way here had shiny golden-marble flooring, and ocean blue walls, guards waited at every door, the light glinting off their strong silver plate armor.  As we walked, Avery told me of the many battles he’s fought and of the hundreds of recruits he’s personally trained, one was named Jesse Duncan, he was a boy from a city in southern Icarus on the border of Ischyros; he lost his family from an attack by Daimones—The wild men of The Southern Kingdoms. On our way, we stopped by the kitchen, my stomach announced us before Avery could; the kitchen staffed turned towards us and the head chef gave us a big smile, “Ah lord Thanatos, I’ve got just the thing for that!” The head chef was an elven girl, far shorter than I, but had the same tan-skinned and dark haired, beauty.  The kitchen had many cooks and servants milling around, cleaning and preparing food for the meeting of the diplomats later that day.  There were more tapestries hanging on the walls—mother and father always loved art— along the back walls was the largest assortment of knives I have ever seen, they had enough to use each once and still last the next few year.  The floor was a pristine white marble colored with black ornate decorations and designs, and the walls and ceiling were blue and white checkered.  Large cookers lined the left wall, filling the palace with the most wondrous smells in the kingdom!  The Chef stepped forward and bowed to us, then leaned up and gave Avery and me a kiss on the cheek, lingering a little longer on me, then after presented us with an assortment of pastries and elven cakes.  My mouth watered as I grabbed a sugar cookie and took a bite out of it, slowly savoring the taste.  That got a giggle out of the little elven Chef.  I was about to say something, but Avery chimed in, “Thank you very much Chef Ellawen, but we just stopped for a quick snack for his lordship, we’ll be leaving now.”  With that Avery led me back into the hallway, rudely making me fumble my cookie.  We kept walking down the hallway, then down some stairs with some questionable decorations, at the base of the stairs we arrived at the palace grounds, soldiers were at the far left still mindlessly sparing with one another, “How long do these guys fight?” “Until one of them gives up, or can’t fight any longer.” I swallowed a lump in my throat after that, Avery led me to an empty dirt sparring circle, then began taking his armor off, I followed suit, and dressed in the Skotal leathers on the bench next to us—some still stained with blood—and got ready to fight.

The sun was going down by time we got finished, The air was damp from us and other soldiers sweating all day, my legs and back were drenched in mud by the end, sweat was pouring out of every part of my body, and my knuckles were bloodied a good bit.  I slumped off my fighting leathers then slid my boots and pants on, not bothering with a shirt.  After a moment of resting, Avery said “Thanatos, never before has any recruit, been able to keep up with me for an entire evening-” he paused to catch his breath with sweat beading down his forehead, “We’re going to be great friends, you and I.”  I gave him a dry smile then playfully kicked some mud on him.  Some other soldiers snickered at that, he gave me a wild glare and pushed me into the mud, it was on.  We wrestled in the mud for a few minutes longer, after we were covered head to toe in it; we called a truce then grabbed our stuff and made our way up the long flight of stairs again.  Servants swore as they saw the mess of muddy tracks we were making on our way to the royal wing bathhouse, Avery kept a smile on their face the entire time though. When we got to the showers, the Chef girl was just coming out; she was wearing nothing but a small bath robe to cover herself.  She mouthed the elven words for “Mitéra páno,” meaning Mother above.  She was monitoring us up and down, her eyes drifting a little longer on the mud across my abdomen, dried and molded, on my muscled body; even though Avery was in far better shape than I.  “Ellawen, you know the prince is off limits...” Avery almost sounded sad saying that, Ellawen pouted too, then made her way out the door, letting a finger slide across the hard part of my chest, then she was gone.  The showers was just as beautiful as the rest of the palace, the floors, walls, and ceilings were all pristine shining white and gold, across the floor was a large gold-incrusted insignia of Icarus.  They air was warm with steam and smoke from the hot water of previous peoples’ showers and sweet from the scent of the exotic shampoos.  We both took long showers, taking our time to get every bit of mud; we let the steam ease the pain in our muscles that were screaming from working all day. Afterwards, while I was drying off, I saw a note lying on my clothes from Avery I assumed:

  Dear Thanatos

I decided to head off to bed ahead of you, be prepared for more training tomorrow; we’ve got lots of work to do!  By the way, Ellawen’s room is on the next floor third door down the hall, she keeps a painting of Crotatia outside of it; it was her home before she came here.

           Yours Truly, Admiral Avery

I tucked the note on my pocket, a wry smile on my lips as I read it, and headed back to my room after going by Ellawen’s room and leaving her a gift.  As I opened my door, I noticed a small package laying on my nightstand, I decided to ignore it and flop into bed, I’d done enough for the day. The night sky seemed to drift into my room as I faded out of consciousness, starlight swallowing me whole, and then I was asleep.

I dreamed of the darkness that had been following me my entire life, I was alone on the center of a tiny island, the water was as black and blue as the night sky. . .it was the night sky. . .stars swirled in the abyss, little lights that were being consumed by the never ending assault of darkness, I could feel the ripples of power coming off the waves and it felt, embracing, like a mothers love... Just beyond the swirls of night, there was a incredible tsunami of fire and chaos; that same chaos that burned inside me and that I felt when I lost my temper. All of this was a representation of me, my fiery rage being held back by the calming love of the darkness, and alone in the middle to watch the battle, but never control it; was me... Suddenly the island was being sucked up by the abyss, water was pooling in on all sides of me, pulling me down into it; I fought as hard as I could possibly, but the power of it was overwhelming, it pulled me in until a was consumed by it...then everything was gone. I was alone in the abyss, at least I thought I was--after I calmed down I noticed a lady standing over me, and next to her was my new friend Avery, then were quickly speaking to one another and when they noticed me, the lady spoke, "Hello Thanatos, it is good to see you;" Tears began welling up in her eyes, "It has been so very long since I last saw you, and my how you've grown.."  I paused for a moment, who was this lady, and why did she seem to know me..  Before I could say something back to her, Avery cut in screaming at me "THANATOS THE KINGDOM NEEDS YOU TO WAKE UP!" I wanted to reply by darkness covered me again, before I disappeared I heard a woman scream too, "LORD PLEASE WE NEED YOU!"  and then I was envoloped, as if something had just yanked me from my dream, back into the real world.

The first thing I noticed was the smoke, then I saw Avery and Ellawen came into picture, blood was on Avery's face and clothing..  We were under attack...

[saelwen]

Lost in Middle-Earth

Thranduil x reader

Part1 / Part2 / Part3 / Part4 / Part5 / Part6 / Part7 / Part8

Summary: Y/n finds herself falling asleep after watching all the Lord of the rings movie on Friday night , tired after a week of studying and working. What will happen when she finds herself in the middle of a forest with orcs running after her.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Words:1,591

Standing by the end of the bed in the infirmary room, I watch the healer checking Thranduil wounds “Incredible!...There’s no trace of the wound...as if it had never been there.” the healer said a while staring to where it should be a huge cut of an axe. Thranduil lift his head and his beautiful ocean eyes met mine, giving me a small smile and a wink, a blush start forming on my cheeks. God...How in the hell I did that? So much had happened on that battlefield. I look down to my hands, maybe this was why Eru brought me here. As he said ‘to help people find their peace’, why did my family never mention this? About my power, about my family ancestry were powerful witches?! My thoughts were interrupted by the door open by breathless guard “My king! The One Ring!...The One Ring was destroyed! The Dark Lord is defeated!” Thranduil shot up from his seat “H..How do you know this?” he asked with wide eyes “We received a messenger from Prince Legolas saying that the Prince fought in the battle at the gates of Mordor, together with the King of Gondor and the rest of the fellowship!” a small smile form on Thranduil lips, looking proud of his son “Very well! Today we are going to have a feast! In honor of the brave men's that fought on the battle against the Dark Lord and...to the savior of Greenwood.” the last part he said looking at me with a fond smile “Right away, My King.” with that the guard left the room and order the servants to prepare a feast for tonight. Thranduil walk to me, grabbing my hand “Come! I wish to show something.” he led me out of Infirmary room.  

As we enter his chambers, I notice that I've never been in here. The room was HUGE and nicely decorated, worthy for a king. He walks to his bedside table and open the drawer, taking out a black velvet box and give it to me “For you, Meleth nin.” I open and a small gasp escape from my lips. Inside the box was the most gorgeous necklace that I ever seen, made by white gems of pure starlight. This was the necklace from his late wife, his most precious treasure. I look to him with wide eyes and open mouth “Thranduil...I..I can’t have this. This is precious to you.” he shakes his head “No, Meleth nin. It was in time but I have to move forward... Me and Areriel were best friends and I love her like one...but now I have fall in love for the first time.” I begin to feel tears rising up in my eyes “Oh Eru! I’m not good with this kind of stuff but what I'm trying to say is...Y/n will you be my Queen?” my body froze in place. Oh my god...Is this really happening? Tears were running down from my eyes like a river and I notice that Thranduil had started feeling afraid as I stay silence for a moment. A giggle left from me and I jump to him “YESSS!! Millions yes!” we start laughing a while he starts spin me around. He stops and lean his head down, crashing his lips into mine. The kiss was rough and passionate, moaning as he pushes his warm tongue inside my mouth, exploring. He moves his hands down my body, stopping on my ass and slapped a bit for me to jump, wrapping my legs around his waist.  

He then starts walking to the bed and put me down on it softly. His lips move away from mine and begin kissing and suck on my neck, making a loud moan fall from my mouth. I move my hands to his hair, gripping tightly “Thranduil...” his name starts falling from my lips like a prayer. Suddenly he sits up, grabbing the collar of my dress and ripped it off from my body, discarding too my bra and panties, leaving me all naked on the bed. Thranduil stays quiet for a moment, standing there staring at my naked body. My nerves start to rise up, maybe he doesn’t like my body. I’m not pretty and elegant as the other elves maidens, I start cover myself “Don’t!” I stop when I hear a growl on his voice “You are the most beautiful woman I ever seen...You could put a shame Varda herself with your beauty.” he moves his hand up and down on my arm, calming me down.  

Then he leans down and kiss my neck and goes down, kissing my breasts. His lips begin sucking on one of my nipples as his hand move to grab the other, squeezing it with his fingers. I throw my head back on the bed, moaning as I grab his hand. Thranduil gives the same attention to the other breast, then he begins kissing down to my belly.  

He stops and grabs my knees, staring to my eyes asking for permission. I nod and spread my legs, bending my knees. Thranduil start rubbing my thighs “Oh my Eru...you’re gorgeous...” I give him a timidly smile, he leans down and put my knees on his shoulders, standing face to face with my wet pussy. He stays there for a second, doing nothing, when I was about plead for him do something, a loud moan escape from me. His lips were sucking furiously my clit, making lewd noises, “Thranduil...Please! Keep going!” he starts licking from my entrance to my clit, pushing a bit his warm tongue inside me. I feel his fingers touching my entrance, making circles motions. He pushes one finger in, making me groan and start thrusting slowly. I could feel my walls squeezing his finger, two more fingers join in, making me feel full. His hand begins thrusting faster, my hips following his speed.

The noises that were heard around the room was my moans and the wet noises that his hand does a while thrusting. I would be embarrassed by the sound that I'm making but I don’t care anymore. One of his fingers touch the spot that made me see stars “My love!...I..I’m cumming!” my walls start squeezing harder around his fingers “Cum!...Cum for me, Meleth nin!”  with that, I felt a wave of pleasure wash through me, screams and moans falling from my lips. He doesn’t stop his fingers until he’s sure that my orgasm was over, giving a slap on my pussy when he takes out his fingers.

My body stay limp on the bed, as i try catching my breath. Jesus...Best orgasm ever! My head was so foggy that I didn’t notice Thranduil taking off his clothes, making a pile in the floor with the rest of my clothes. I look to his eyes, that were almost black, full of lust. He kneels between my legs, grabbing his cock and rubbing softly of my wet pussy, covering his manhood with my juices. He look to me “Ready?..” I smile and nod “Yes, My Love.” and with that he thrust inside me, making me gasp from how big he was. He stays still for a while, letting me adjust to his large cock. After a moment I move my hips, letting him know that I'm okay, he begins moving his hips, thrusting in a slow pace. His lips crush into mine, kissing me passionate, pouring all his love on the kiss, “Y/n...you’re so tight...feel so warm..” he groans, shutting close his eyes resting his forehead on mine as he start thrusting faster, rocking the bed against the wall “Ahh...Thranduil! Don’t stop!” the head of his cock touch on my g-spot, making me again see stars “RIGHT THERE!...YESS!” I scream the top of my lungs, his thrust now was violent. He sits up, grab my small waits with his large hands and start trusting roughly, “Y/n....I’m gonna cum! Cum with me Meleth nin!” I rock my hips, following his movements, chasing my orgasm. Then I felt the wave again, rolling my eyes back of my head, Thranduil groans and I feel him painting my walls with his seed.  

We stay like this for moment, catching our breaths. He lies down next to me, pulling me into his chest, kissing my forehead “Rest now, Meleth nin. We have time until the feast.” I nod and let sleep take over me, cuddling into Thranduil with a huge smile on my face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I open my eyes and see that I'm again surrounded by a black void “Hello young one.” I turn and smile “Hello, Eru.” he smiles “You did well, my child!...You had bought peace to the people of Greenwood.” I nod “Well...you could have told me that I have power over nature and animals....and also TAKE live from others creature?!” he let a loud laugh, staring at me with a calm expression on his face “Well, my child...what would be the fun of that?” I huff but let a small smile spread on my face. He took a step towards me, leans down and kiss my forehead, I feel my skin warming up all over and I look up to him with a confused face “I bless you with internal life... A gift for you for your help with my children.” I nod “Thank you...”

Hey guys!!! Well this chapter was...good, I think? I know my smut it’s not very good but I promise that I will do better!!! Hope you like it and feel free to tell me what you think!!

XOXO

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