#no hate to Nightwish though

[severalpossiblemusiks]

[venmondiese]

THE KINSLAYER

based on nightwish's kinslayer aka aemond's theme ✧ gifs: /feodor-dostoevsky // jeonwonwoo

AEMOND COULD HEAR THE LOUD NOISES FROM THE BROTHEL. He could smell the filthiness from it. He could feel it deep in his bones. He could sense it in the depts of his soul.

Aegon was much more careless than he was. As if he knew that he was doomed, destined to the seven hells, he left himself enjoy the pleasures of terrenal life, hedonistic natures for a doomed man.

Aemond wanted to be correct. When he was a kid, he dreamed of great things. Second sons often got nothing. And he wanted to be someone.

His own grandsire, Baelon, could have been someone. He was to be King, if the stranger didn't take him to soon. He would have been King. A second son.

Jaehaerys was a second son. Maegor was a second son. Even Aegon the First was second to his sister Visenya. Yet it was destined for him to be the ruler.

He thought of himself as worthy. He really did. Aemond Targaryen, rider of Vhagar. It was not something to be taken lightly. Vhagar, ridden by Visenya, Baelon, Laena. All of them were second best too.

It wasn't killing Lucerys what bugged him. He could not care less for the bastard boy. It wasn't making Rhaenyra suffer, though it wasn't how he planned it. She wanted him tortured, she wanted him to be sharply questioned when he just lost an eye. She ran away, with her impecable kin, secured on Dragonstone.

He made a mistake. He felt the power of what the Velaryons boys did when they bullied him. He was worthy. He was a Targaryen. And Vhagar was backing him up.

But sometimes, he didn't think losing an eye was worthy. Hidding it to not scare ladies at court. Cut the eyelids open so he could incrist a sapphire, like Symeon Star-Eyes. He learned how to chop men with a long staff with blades at both ends, just like the legendary hero did.

He wondered if he just wanted to feel something. If he just wanted to feel as someone special, worthy again. If he did, maybe they would admire him, or even care for him. Did they not?

Aegon had his own mess. Helaena had her own mess. Daeron wasn't even near King's Landing. His mother was busy ruling as his father was busier rotting.

"It's okay, my prince." The female voice says, in an attempt of soothing him as her hand caressed his forearm, and he sighed, his head on her lap as he looked into the room.

Brothels, even dirtiest, could have bedroom for the highlors attending. Aemond's naked chest was warm due to the fire, but not thanks to the physical intimacy.

It was a vain attempt of comfort. Aegon had invited him, to cheer him up and to celebrate his new title as King.

'Celebrate what?' He thought. 'I just started a war'

It haunts his dreams. The knowledge of what he did. The burden, the burning.

Kinslayer.

He found himself doomed. Haunted by a hateful nature inside him. It stirred, it boiled deep on his soul. Kinslayer.

A war between kin. The first drops of blood om his hands, tainting his very soul.

It felt good, at the beginning. He tried to rationalize it. A mistake. Vhagar lost control.

Because she did.

Right?

She had to. Because he didn't. It was... teasing. The power of being on Vhagar was just his arrongace, his vanity acting. Not him. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him.

He couldn't even look at his mother on the eyes. He could less look Helaena, hearing her horrified little scream as she found out.

His eye hurt. The emptiness of it, the wound that never fully healed. He couldn't even cry properly, not even for makind or his own doom.

'You lost one eye. How could you be so blind?' His grandsire said.

A need to understand. But there wasn't a need to forgive. He won't do that, for he has no reason. His mother called the war a curse from Gods themselves. She prayed, and prayed. But there wasn't any sense or truth to be followed. He even started to doubt if this was about ruling the realm.

"Do I have to pay you?" He asks, slightly unsure. Vulnerable, even. He hated it.

He was not used to this. Using a whore for comfort. Aegon laughed when he excused himself, asking for a whore, and he even congratulated him, a loud cheer all over the table.

Now he laid naked, curled up as his head rested on her lap. Warmth. Cosiness.

"No, my prince. The King has it covered"

The King. It was Aegon. The same Aegon who bullied him, and used to mock him. His big brother. Now, he was the King. It was his biggest fear, and another curse.

Was this a curse for his own ambitions? For wanting what wad the destiny of his elders? For preparing to rule even if he wasn't even acknowledged in his father's mind?

He sighed. His hair loose, the eyepatch lost somewhere on the room. He felt the touch over his cheebone, going up to move his hair to his back, her hands caressing his hair and head, in a soothing manner as she didn't speak more. He prefered silence after his vulnerable moment.

Being with a whore felt like meeting an old friend. It scared him, it bugged him in the wrong way. But who else can he turn to? The Gods have abandoned him to his luck, and with good reason.

He would prefer having a wife do it. He wondered that if he had one, she would be gentler than this, cozier than this.

He craved the love. He never tried to actively persuing a lady at court, so he had no wife. He couldn't go back to Floris Baratheon, he knew he cannot. Not as a Kinslayer.

He liked to picture his wife as beautiful lady. He does not imagine especifics, he is not demanding on that sense. He imagines her beautiful as the maiden herself, gentle and caring. Not judging him, even if his new curse made him a monster. If he had offsprings, would they love him? Afraid of his lost eye?

He realised that he has to thank the Gods. For not having a wife, or offsprings to pass the curse on. To share the madness with them.

Praying was in vain, for who would hear him? A slayer of his own kin. The blood of his sister was on his hands. Of her little son, that he murdered.

He had prayed to the Father. For him to save a place for Aemond. There are no gods. Not by your side.

He soon realised, he was as well doomed. Second son, kinslayer, murdered of his own nephew, on the skies mounting their dragons. Just as Maegor The Cruel did.

He won't become an acknowledged second son. He won't be worthy, he won't be remember greatly. He won't be a hero, unless he dies greatly. And he knows it. He lusts for this game, and he falls for every lie of it.

He looked at the flames, as if they could answer something to him. As if they could show him what was ahead of him. How he has to act. How he'll die.

A war was yet to come, and he knows he'll fight it. For he has nothing else to lose. He curses the Gods. How was he supposed to know?

[teddywesworl]

have any steddie headcanons youd like to share? cute, spicy anything really. i'm interested in your thoughts.

greetings nonny. im gonna go full special interest here but i think steddie's music tastes overlap a lot more than a lot of fanon seems to think they do. like i think steve leans more toward what we would now call classic rock (and also what would have been top 40 at the time) and eddie's taste is more eclectic, and also eddie is definitely annoying about liking weird underground stuff, but like... they're both into joan jett, you know? they own queen's entire discography between them. twisted sister is Not a stretch for steve harrington. skid row will not particularly challenge the margins of steve harrington's record collection. i actually don't even think eddie hates journey (he might pretend to, though). there's a lot of overlap between journey and e.g. motley crue, you know? it's not a mistake there are two (2) recent metal covers of separate ways. when i said in chair fic that eddie enjoys a little elton john from time to time i meant that.

i think where they diverge is that steve obviously had more exposure to popular music while eddie deliberately sought out counterculture--and specifically a counterculture obsessed with mathematical and technical complexity. i always go back to the fact that, canonically, he learned master of puppets by ear in about two weeks, whether or not the writers of stranger things intended for the timing to be that tight. so steve errs toward air supply, and eddie toward meat loaf. or in somewhat more modern terms, they both like linkin park, but eddie goes uniquely insane about nightwish. you know??? are you picking up what im putting down???

[valenshawke]

6 albums I’ve been listening to a lot lately! Plus one track from each that I’m especially fond of.

I was tagged by @captainhunnicutt. Thank you!

The Mandrake Project - Bruce Dickinson - "Many Doors to Hell"

I waited 18 god damn years for this album. And while Iron Maiden has released four albums in that time period, I'm actually a bigger fan of Bruce's solo material. This song in particular does hit on a lot of things I liked to write about around the time his last solo album was released. A vampire who wants to be human again. Not quite, but I did (and do I guess) like to explore the blessing and the curse of being a vampire.

Vessels - Starset - "Telepathic" & "Telepathic (Acoustic Version)"

Starset was the band @telekinetic-issue recommended to me after I recommended Ghost. So the great music exchange of 2022 led to, what is currently, my favorite Starset album. This song hit very close to me I listened to it obsessively as it very much captured my feelings towards my former best friend, before I finally managed to let that friendship go finally even though we hadn't really spoken since 2015.

72 Seasons - Metallica - "Lux Æterna"

Probably the first Metallica album since, uh, forever where I truly feel like they band tried to put out a quality song every track (don't argue with me about Load & ReLoad, there was ONE solid album if they made better track selections and had a bit tighter arrangement). As for "Lux Æterna," it's one of those pick-me-up songs that motivates me to try to get my life together.

Infestissumam - Ghost - "Year Zero"

In terms of album, it was this for Prequelle, Meliora, Impera. Impera, burned out listening to and absolutely hate one song on that album. Meliora benefits by having the Popestar EP on it, and thus having "Square Hammer." Prequelle has "Faith" and "Miasma"/"Dance Macabre" (you really need to listen to these two tracks back-to-back), and "Witch Image."

Infestissumam I listen to the most and regularly since it has my all-time favorite Ghost song, "Year Zero" and the "band" at this time was more focused on using religious imagery in such a dark way that hits the bitter ex-Catholic heart of mine in such a way that no other band can.

Once - Nightwish - "Planet Hell"

Tarja's last album with the band. Probably their last great album (no disrespect to Anette Olzon, Dark Passion Play and Imaginaerum were good albums). But a song about the contradictory nature of humanity and the notion that hell is really simply planet Earth? Yeah, that's a song for me.

Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex OST + - Yoko Kanno - "Lithium Flower"

Yes, I'm trash. I know this. I'm Tumblr. I came to Tumblr because of anime and manga. But this song is just 1. Amazing. 2. And based solely on one line, it's like the character song for my blorbo. But Yoko Kanno is one of those composers where, once you hear her work, you just bow to her brilliance. Her mixing of styles and finding singers to fit whatever vision she has is nothing short of amazing. But this song is one of those that when it comes on, just don't bother me because I will ignore everything to listen to the song in full.

And I'm no-pressure-tagging: @beardedladyqueen, @spoczkot, @anisaanisa, @albatrossisland, @connie-rubirosa, @byronicbi, @transgalvantula plus anyone else that wants to do this!

[ckret2]

When I'm making a "what songs a character would listen to" playlist rather than a "what songs make me think of the character" playlist, I start with two rules:

In order to prevent myself from making 200 playlists that all sound like my tastes instead of the characters' tastes, I start with the assumption that I'd probably dislike what the character likes and the character would hate what I like, and then only start making limited exceptions to this rule when I have a damn good reason to. (For instance: if I'm making a playlist for an emo kid, it can over lap with my tastes because I was an emo kid. But that does NOT give me the right to stick my symphonic metal preferences on them. Unless I've been given a damn good reason to think otherwise, they'd listen to My Chemical Romance, not Nightwish.)

In order to prevent myself from constructing muddy indistinct musical palates that, again, drift toward sounding like my tastes rather than the character's tastes, I assume that the character has very narrow tastes, and rigidly stay INSIDE that box, so that I can't fall into the trap of going "oh well this is sorrrrta like what they listen to, and it's such a good song that surely they would like it even though it's outside their typical tastes—" That's the devil talking.

There's no such thing as a universally "good song" and your personal "this is SO good that it TRANSCENDS genre and EVERYONE would like it" is somebody else's "this is so bland." What songs resonate with you is a function of how YOU'RE wired, NOT how the song's wired; the character you're making a playlist for is not wired like you. Stick to what you've chosen as their genre tastes or you're just gonna have yet another playlist that sounds like YOUR TASTES with 2 or 3 token songs that sorta fit the character's actual tastes. And if the playlist ends up sounding like your tastes instead of the character's, you might as well have made a "what songs make me think of the character" playlist.

[summerwritesfics]

🗺️For Hope I’d Give My Everything

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 2272 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Fantasy AU, Violence, Fights, Bombs, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Baby!Takeda Takahashi, Warrior!Hanzo Hasashi, Thief!Kuai Liang, Attempted Kidnapping, Kuai Liang is AMBB (Assigned mom by baby) AU-Gust 2024 Day 9: Accidental Child Acquisition

AU-Gust 2024 Masterlist

Notes: Don’t you hate it when you go to rob a guy and end up accidentally adopting a baby with him instead? NGL to you guys, this is the one I’ve been most excited to share since I wrote it 😂 Mostly because this is actually one of my favourite tropes and I’m super surprised I’ve never really written it until now lol. I might continue this if only because I want to write Mama Bear Kuai Liang. I’m still ill but I think I’m on the way to recovery now. At the very least, I’m not coughing quite as much as I was yesterday. :) Title is from Nemo by Nightwish.

Hanzo wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this position.

One minute, he was living alone in the forest. A lonely but peaceful life, where he went down to the town maybe once a month to replenish his supplies. It was far from his past life as a warrior, but it was what he needed after Harumi and Satoshi’s deaths.

Then, everything changed. He awoke to the sound of a baby crying, finding little Takeda in a basket on his doorstep. And before he could even consider what he was going to do with the child, his home was attacked and he’d had to flee.

He had no idea what The Red Dragon wanted with this child, but he knew he could not let them have him.

His current plan was to get to the Sky Temple. The Thunder God, Lord Raiden, owed him a favour from some past actions. Taking in this child and helping to protect him seemed like a fair reason to cash that favour in. The trouble was getting there. It was a long journey from where he had been living, and he couldn’t trust anyone right now, so finding reliable transport was out. He just had to make do moving town to town, doing odd jobs along the way to keep the baby fed.

This cliffside path was not an ideal spot to walk along. It was narrow, and even walking closest to the cliff wall was far too close to the edge. Still, it was the only way past this particular mountain range, he had no other choices. That didn’t even account for the weird feeling that someone was watching him.

Takeda began to fuss in his arms, and he bounced the child slightly. “Shh, little one. We won’t be here long.”

He was cut off by a strange rumbling sound. A small rock came tumbling down from above. Luckily, it was a little way in front and didn’t hit them. But something about it made Hanzo’s hair’s stand on edge. He glanced up the cliff, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

A figure was crouching on a small ledge.

Instinct took over, Hanzo turning to find a small crevice in the cliff. He quickly placed Takeda inside, but wasn’t able to do much else before he found something hitting him at full force. Even though he fell to the ground, he raised his fist and punched, hearing a gruff groan. He found the chance to pull his legs up, kicking the person off him. As he jumped up to his feet, readying his katana, he saw them skid across the floor.

The figure stood up, revealing himself to Hanzo. He was… surprisingly short if Hanzo was being honest, wearing a fur lined cloak, and holding a hunting knife in his hand. He had short hair, a trim beard and a long scar over his right eye. But what was most intriguing were his eyes, one a deep brown and the other a bright icy blue. He didn’t ponder it too long, pointing his katana at the man who readied his knife.

“Give me all your money and whatever item you hid in that hole,” the man growled, swiping his knife as some form of threat. There was a slight relief that the man seemed to just be a common thief rather than a Red Dragon grunt. Still, Hanzo wouldn’t just give in, not when he had Takeda to protect.

“I'd recommend you back down now and find someone else to rob, thief,” Hanzo hissed, baring his teeth. “I will not back down.”

“Then you are a fool.”

The thief ran forward, slashing his knife at Hanzo. He jumped backwards, holding up his katana to defend himself. Using his weight to push the thief away, Hanzo attempted to strike. The attack was blocked, but that didn’t stop Hanzo from slashing again, and again. The thief stumbled trying to keep up with his attacks. Eyes widening as if he realised he’d made a mistake.

Too late for you to regret it now.

Hanzo heard something falling down the cliff again. He didn’t pay much attention to it, until he heard a beeping. The thief and him shared a look, where they were both trying to figure out if the other was responsible. Then, in tandem, their heads turned to where the beeping was coming from.

Down by their feet, lay a small bomb, flashing red.

“Shit-���

Before Hanzo could dive away, the bomb went off, knocking him backwards. He hit the floor hard, and groaned at the way his body cracked. When he felt around, he realised to his amazement he was still on the path.

He sat up, noting that the part of the path he’d previously been stood at had crumbled, leaving only a drop below. The thief was on the other side of the gap, lying on the ground, and Hanzo hissed when he realised that was also the side Takeda was on.

Someone came zipping down the cliff, landing on that side of the pathway and Hanzo snarled.

“Mavado,” Hanzo screamed as he stumbled to his feet. Mavado responded with a chuckle, recalling the ribbons he’d used to scale down the cliff.

“Looks like this is where you say goodbye to the brat, Mr. Hasashi,” Mavado smugly told him, walking over to the hole and pulling a crying Takeda from it.

“Don’t you dare,” Hanzo roared storming forward. The path crumbled further, stopping him in his tracks.

“And what else do we have here?” Mavado walked over to the thief, using his foot to kick him onto his back. Mavado smirked as he looked over the man's form. “The last Lin Kuei. Well, I have two for two, now don’t I?”

Lin Kuei? That clan had been hunted down many years ago. Hanzo found it unbelievable anyone could have survived that level of persecution.

The Lin Kuei looked up at Mavado before spitting out “go to hell.”

“Is there really any need for such hostility, Kuai Liang?” Mavado pressed his foot down hard on the man's chest, making him wheeze. “Lord Daegon will be so pleased to see you.”

With Mavado distracted, Hanzo decided this was his chance. He took a few steps back, and began to run again. Once his foot hit right by the edge, he leapt, and all that was going through his head was the hope he’d make it and he wouldn’t fall to his death.

As his feet thankfully hit the floor, he darted forward, knocking Mavado off balance. Unfortunately, he hadn’t accounted for Mavado letting go of Takeda in shock. The baby was thrown off towards the cliff’s edge. To his surprise however, Kuai Liang managed to dart to his feet, throwing himself towards the edge and catching Takeda in his arms.

Hanzo was forced to return his attention to Mavado however, when the other man attempted to punch him. He dodged, before forcing his elbow into Mavado’s face. As he stumbled back, Hanzo turned to see where Takeda was, only to find Kuai Liang gone. He went cold, thinking that the thief had absconded with him.

Until he noticed fingers clinging to the edge of the cliff.

A black blur from the corner of his eye yet again prevented him from going to their aid. He once more managed to pull back, grabbing his katana and striking Mavado in his stomach. The man made a pained gasp, skidding to a stop and staring down at himself. Red began pouring from his midsection. He looked disgusted for a second, before taking a step backwards.

“Damn you,” he hissed, before throwing his hands up towards the top of the cliff. The elastic ribbons caught something up there, and he prepared to jump. Hanzo wasn’t able to catch him before he zoomed up the side of the cliff. All he could do was stand and watch Mavado disappear.

His head snapped back around, remembering that Kuai Liang and Takeda were still in danger. Except the fingers were now gone.

“No,” he whispered as he rushed to the edge and peered down. His eyes widened at what he saw.

Kuai Liang, glowing blue and floating in the air, holding Takeda to his chest and wearing an extremely confused look on his face.

“What the-” Hanzo whispered, but put that aside when he noticed Kuai Liang was starting to ascend.

He floated back up to the edge, before settling to sit on the path. The blue glow disappeared, and Kuai Liang still looked like he had no idea what just happened.

“You’re a telepath?” Hanzo questioned, wondering if that were the case, why he wouldn’t have used those powers sooner. But when Kuai Liang looked at him like he’d grown a second head, he realised this was not the Lin Kuei’s doing.

“No. No I-” He paused, before shifting slightly and staring down at Takeda, who happily babbled in his arms. “I’m not a telepath.” The implication was clear. But if it was right, then it brought up even more questions. “Um. Why exactly is the Red Dragon after your son?”

“I don’t know. Or at least I didn’t. This might explain it.” And if that was the case, Hanzo actually had a friend who was a telepath, for as rare as they were. But he swore to god, if Kenshi had anything to do with all of this, he would fucking kill the man for dumping him into it. “And he isn’t my son.”

“Wait.” Kuai Liang pushed himself up to his feet, looking at Hanzo with a raised eyebrow. “So you’re just journeying with a random kid that isn’t yours?”

“He was left on my doorstep, and then the Red Dragon attacked,” Hanzo explained with a huff, feeling like he was being judged for something that wasn’t his fault. “I’m trying to get to the Sky Temple to see if they can help.”

“Good luck with that,” Kuai muttered bitterly under his breath. Hanzo understood his scepticism, a man whose people had been persecuted to the levels The Lin Kuei had been would have no reason to believe in the Gods. Still Kuai held out Takeda to Hanzo to take him.

The second that Takeda was returned to Hanzo’s arms, he began to absolutely bawl his eyes out. Hanzo bounced him, desperately trying to calm the child down. His eyes were shut tightly, but his little hands were reaching back in Kuai’s direction. Not only that, but Kuai’s legs were glowing blue, keeping them basically bound together and preventing him from leaving.

Takeda doesn’t want him to go. It was weird, and honestly, Hanzo couldn’t help but feel a little bit insulted. I’ve been protecting you for weeks now, but this guy throws himself off a cliff once to save you and he’s all you want. He knew that was a jealous and ultimately very petty line of thought though. Maybe Takeda sensed something in this man that Hanzo couldn’t.

“Right, fine,” Hanzo huffed, passing the baby back to Kuai Liang, whose eyes widened to a comical degree. But as Hanzo suspected, Takeda immediately stopped crying, and the blue glow faded. “Take the baby. You’re coming with us.”

“Wait. What?” Kuai exclaimed looking between Hanzo and Takeda.

“The baby’s chosen you,” he claimed, wandering around the area and making sure he wasn’t missing anything. “Therefore, you have to come with us, I don’t make the rules.”

“I just tried to rob you, and you’re trusting me with a baby?” Kuai questioned, like somehow Hanzo was the unreasonable one in this situation.

“I’m not trusting you with the baby, but Takeda sure seems to trust you for some reason.” He shook his head as he returned his katana to its hold. “Besides, you wanted my money and whatever was in the crevice, this way you get both.”

“I didn’t think what you’d hidden was a baby, I thought it was treasure or something,” Kuai claimed in an exacerbated tone. His eyes flicked down to Takeda, who was again making small happy noises to himself and playing with the fur on Kuai’s cape. Despite himself, Kuai smiled down at Takeda. “If I had realised you had a baby with you, I wouldn’t have tried to steal from you at all.”

Hanzo sighed, “look. The way I see it, if you come with us, it'll benefit you as well.” Kuai glanced up just enough as though to demand an explanation. “The Red Dragon are after you too, correct? If you come with us, we can find a way to stop them.”

Kuai was silent for a few seconds, before his gaze landed on Takeda again. His expression softened, bringing Takeda up close to rest their foreheads together. Kuai closed his eyes, and let out a breath.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll come with you.” He pulled Takeda away. “You’re very lucky you’re so cute.”

“Excuse me?” Hanzo baulked, feeling his face go hot.

Kuai looked at him incredulously, “I was talking to the baby.”

Hanzo paused, and cleared his throat. “Right. Of course.”

He didn’t say anymore, just started to walk off, hearing Kuai Liang giggle as he followed him. He swore he could hear Takeda laughing too. With him being a telepath, how likely was it that he understood more of what was going on than an average baby? He shook his head, that was a ridiculous line of thought. He was better using his mind to map out their road to the Sky Temple.

He just hoped Lord Raiden would be able to offer the salvation that they sought.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Meet me where the cliff greets the Sea (part 2)

Elendil x reader

Title inspired by a verse of Elan by Nightwish. NSFW!!

This part is dedicated to the amazing @montyc. Words cannot express how grateful I am!!!

*****

You have taken off your cape, but the wait at the farthest corner of the area reserved to the slaves merchants is still unpleasant, even though the heat is the least of your worries; the anxiety is eating you alive, and every minute you are forced to wait feels like a month. You have paid, the slip of parchment to certify your purchase tight in your fist, and you are reasonably sure the smiling man -this is what you are calling him in your mind; you have no idea of his real name, nor you want to know it- will keep his word to tell no one about the presence of a couple of Númenoreans within the borders of a kingdom that has more reason to hate your people than anyone else... but all the same, you cannot wait to set sail and leave Draiwen behind you... 

... and even more, to have your husband back.

Seeing you idle, standing there and doing nothing, a couple of other merchants approach to show you their wares, but you gently decline, since the last thing you would be able to focus on is the cloth for a new dress, the very same colour as your eyes, mistress!, or a pair of earrings. Where is he?, you wonder as you resist the impulse of biting your nails, a girlhood habit you thought you had left behind you, why is he taking so long? The smiling man only had to have him dressed, and the enclosure is no more than twenty fathoms away; has he changed his mind, deciding that now that he has taken you coin, the best thing to do would be to call for the city guards and earn a reward out of your and Elendil’s imprisonment? It will only be safe to cry victory once you are both back in Númenor, safe at home with your people, but you are so tired, completely exhausted, after six months of fearing and crying and searching, and you have never felt more in danger than now that you are so close to what you have desperately longed for, like a starving man that is allowed to smell a delicious dish and then sees it snatched away from him...

You wait. And you wait some more, while the men of your escort whisper between them, looking at you with undisguised curiosity, which you ignore. And finally, maybe five minutes before you feel ready to burst into tears, you see a small group of men coming towards you; two of the guards of the smiling man... and between them, wearing a tattered tunic and pants that must have belonged to a man much larger than him, is your husband, his ankles and wrists free but with a fresh bruise marring his fair face, maybe a parting gift from his former master. It would be within your rights to complain, since the merchant had no permission to manhandle a slave that he had formally sold already, but, as much as the mere sight fills you with rage, you force yourself to keep silent.

"Mistress." Elendil greets you, bowing his head as is proper for a slave, and there is no need to pretend anymore, since he is now formally yours -he is, you think as your heart fills with a fierce, greedy possessiveness, he has been yours ever since the two of you met, he belongs to you and you will never let him go- and truth to be told, the mere thought of you as a slave-owner makes you more than a little uncomfortable, but that little farce you are playing appears to amuse your husband, given the small smile hidden in the curve of his lips. 

You quickly, and brusquely, dismiss the guards, and then, not caring about what the men escorting you will think, you slip your arm under Elendil’s, just like when you walk together in the streets of Armenelos, or along the shoreline of your favourite beach; you are finally touching him, solid and strong and real, for the first time in six months, and the relief you feel is so intense it makes your knees weak.

“Do not cry, please.” Elendil’s deep, musical voice brushes against your cheek, and you had already spoken, while in the enclosure in front of the smiling man, but this is different, this is personal and intimate and it feels like a cup of cold water after the worst thirst of your life; he is barely able to keep his composure, his deep blue eyes full of bittersweet joy, relief and pain meshed in one “Do not cry, my love; I am here, and I swear I will never leave your side again.”

“I will remind you of this promise, husband.” you tell him, mock-serious to hide the emotion in your heart; you hate crying, especially in public... even when it is tears of joy you are shedding “Now, let us go.”

You do not talk anymore as you hurry in the direction to reach the harbour; Elendil looks straight ahead, as if determined to leave the memories of the last six months behind him together with the marketplace, and his grip on your arm is firmer than usual, both possessive and scared, and when you rest your free hand on his, silently attempting to comfort and reassure him, your husband looks at you, almost not daring to think he is finally safe.

“I will bring you home.” you whisper; Eru preserve you, you would be ready to set the whole city on fire if it meant making sure he is safe “I promise, Elendil. It is over; you can rest now.”

A nod is the only answer you receive, and when you reach the ship he -an army officer, a Sea Guard captain, a nobleman, a father; a man, in short, for whom assuming leadership and giving orders is almost second nature, as instinctive as breathing- remains silent by your side and lets you take charge. In another moment, that choice that speaks of trust in you and your abilities, would have made you proud; now, instead, it is pain and compassion that fill your heart, and a surge of protectiveness you had not felt ever since your children were small.

The ship captain is playing dice on a table with two of his crewmembers, apparently winning given the displeased expressions of the others. When he sees your little group approach he stands to meet you, and he looks at you, and Elendil, and the way you cling to each other; he asks no questions, however, because the situation is clear enough, or perhaps simply because he does not care.

“May I dismiss your escort, mistress?”

“You may, captain; my thanks for lending them to me.” you answer, and the two men who accompanied you quickly move to join their friends at the game table “We will have to depart immediately.”

The man’s face clouds. “Immediately? That is not possible.”

“I paid for you to bring me to Draiwen and then back home.”

“And I will, I have given you my word. But we worked tirelessly to take you to your destination in the shortest time possible, and I expect you will want an equally fast trip on the way back. My men deserve a night of rest; worse, they will demand it, and I will have a mutiny at my hands.”

He is serious, determined, not to mention much bigger than you, but while you feel Elendil stiffen at your side, you remain calm, betraying none of the turmoil and the impatience that stir in your heart; with your husband by your side, there is nothing you feel unable to face, especially if the obstacle to overcome is a simple man whose weak point you have already identified.

"I am sure a capable captain such as yourself will be able to control his crew and put them to work." you answer, voice devoid of flattery, as you hold his gaze more than he is probably used to when his interlocutor is a woman "And I will pay you double what we agreed if you are able to set sail before sunset; I am sure your men will appreciate it, if you decide to share it. And, please have a bath prepared in my cabin; there is no need to warm the water, but the bigger the tub, the better."

The pressure on your arm softens marginally; you do not look at Elendil, but you perceive his approval, and his sincere merriment, like a sweet caress on your cheek.

Eru, you have missed him so much.

"Are we in agreement, captain?"

A sigh; he is not happy, and he must know his men will not be either, but he is avid enough to decide to take the risk, for a doubled fee.

"We are in agreement, mistress."

*****

You both remain silent as you cross the ship's bridge and go below deck. The sailors, who during the journey have looked at you with ill-concealed curiosity and allusive smiles, snicker behind your back and exchange knowing looks, convinced that you have bought a slave at the market to warm your bed, and that tonight you will put your new property to work. They have no idea about the truth, how could they? But you do not care; let them joke about you, and wonder why you had to cross the Sea to buy a slave to satisfy your needs, instead of looking for what you needed in a whorehouse. Let them wonder whether you have a husband you are betraying, and what your preferences in the alcove are. You do not care; you care about nothing, but the tall, handsome man who keeps glancing at you as you cross the corridor below deck, as if he feared to see you disappear like a dream at dawn.

"It is here." you whisper as you reach the cabin you have been given by the captain, empty but for a bed -small, especially since you will be sharing it with your husband; but squeezing together has never been a problem, or a sacrifice, for the two of you- a single chair, the tiniest, least stable table you have ever seen, and a couple of shelves on the wall; the bag with your belongings is on the floor, next to the only friend who has accompanied you on the expedition: a messenger bird in his cage, his feathers cloud-white, softly cooing. The rolling on the ship is quiet, given the calm Sea that has helped you reach your destination faster than you had hoped; you are used to it, so much you barely notice it anymore. How could you not, since you are the wife of a captain of the Sea Guard?

Elendil does not speak as you push the door open, precede him inside and then close it; you turn, and finally you are face to face, alone, free to abandon whatever pretenses you have had to keep, and you never had to doubt your husband's love and devotion, not even during the occasional falling out or when he was away at Sea for months at a time, but for some reason now you are the one who lacks the courage to touch him... as if you feared to lose him now that you have finally found him.

"Wife." he whispers in the end, and that simple word, the reverent, intimate tone of that voice that has always had the power to make you shiver in such a pleasant way, is the last push that opens the floodgates in your heart. You cannot, nor you want to, resist anymore, be strong anymore, even if you were not alone, and the tears start running along your cheeks before you even realise you are about to cry, and this time Elendil does not ask you not to, knowing that sometimes it is better to simply express the pain, to get it out in order to depure one's body and mind. Wordlessly, he takes you in his arms, and a moment later you are held in the safety of his embrace, his tired, abused and weakened body still a source of peace and comfort, and you hold on to him, like the victim of a shipwreck who clings to a rock in the middle of a storm, and you should be the one to comfort him, not the other way around, but you cannot help it, and the beauty of what you shared is that you are both made stronger by the closeness. He kisses your brow while you hide your face against his shoulder, and the simple sensation of being in his arms, so special and unique, makes you feel free to breathe for the first time in six months.

"You found me." he whispers. He is holding you so tight it hurts, but you do not mind; in fact, you like it "You searched for me, you found me, and you took me away. I should have expected the Sea Guard, or the army... But no. It was you. I knew you would come. I felt it, in my heart."

"You would have done the same for me." you whisper back; Eru, it is so pleasant to feel his heart beat close to yours "That you are a soldier and a mariner and I am not makes no difference. We had promised we would spend the rest of our lives together; worse things than a war and slavery would have to occur before I let you forget your promise, husband."

"Eru preserve me, I must be married to the most overbearing woman in all of Arda..."

He looks at you; he smiles, happy and reassuring. "Are our children well?"

"They are, even though they have missed you as much as I have. They helped me, and spared no effort in searching for you. Isildur and Anarion wished to accompany me, but I did not allow them."

Your husband clearly does not approve, but he does not comment; he knows how dangerous what you did was, and he knows it would be pointless, not to mention hypocrite, to reprimand you. "I am so glad to see you." he murmurs as he hugs you once more; he kisses you again, not on your forehead this time "Let us go home."

The captain, while unhappy with your demands, is able to keep his men in check, perhaps bribing them with the promise of a reward in gold, and when the ship finally sets sail, driven forward by a favorable wind that definitely was not there an hour before, the sun has not yet completely disappeared behind the horizon. You look out of the tiny window of the cabin, and you see the land of Draiwen slipping away behind you; you sigh, suddenly missing your children and picturing how happy they will be when your family will be whole, once more.

Elendil is still too tense to sleep, but he spends a few minutes resting on the bed -much less comfortable than the one you share at home; still, it is a vast improvement from the lodgings he had been forced to in the house of the smiling man- while you retrieve your writing utensils from your bag and write a brief message to your children, announcing that their father is alive and the two of you are already on the way home. You then tie the tiny piece of parchment to the leg of the messenger bird that you have released from his cage, and then let him take flight out of the tiny window; it will take at least a week for the ship to reach Númenor, but if luck assists you your children will receive the message within a day, and they will be able to stop fearing for their father’s health. 

Land is still barely visible on the horizon when two men come carrying the wooden tub and then buckets with the water for the bath you have requested; they work quickly and efficiently, glancing curiously to your husband, who looks back at them, impassible.

“They believe you have bought a slave for your bed.” he realizes once you are alone once more, and you shrug your shoulders, utterly disinterested.

“Now, let us not waste time. The bath is for you; you better get in as soon as possible.”

“Are you saying I smell, wife?” Elendil asks, a light smile on his lips.

“I most certainly do, husband. And fear not, I have everything we need.”

You brought clothes for Elendil from home, tunic and trousers and boots and even his favorite cape, a shade of blue similar to the one of his Sea Guard uniform; during a brief stop on the way to Draiwen, as the captain sent his men to buy provisions, water and other necessities, you purchased soap of good quality,  a razor and even a pair of scissors, knowing your husband, who while not vain is very particular about his appearance, would have appreciated it.

“Sensible woman.” Elendil says with a smile, a moment before starting to undress. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lowers himself in the tub, the cool water pleasant against his skin. He has lost weight, you notice with a surge of grief, and a number of small wounds and bruises mar his fair skin; but the worst is his back, carrying the signs of something that makes you regret you did not use your dagger on the smiling man, while you were in his tent.

You sit on the floor of the cabin next to the tub. “You have been whipped.” you whisper as you brush your fingers against the ugly red gashes -four of them, clearly recent- under his shoulder-blades; Elendil stiffens, as if that simple contact were still painful “Forgive me; it is just... oh, my love, what have they done to you?”

He smiles sadly, as he turns to take your hand and kiss the back. “As the master told you, I attempted to incite the other slaves to rebel; it did not work, and I was punished.” he explains “Worry not, I have suffered worse.”

“That does not comfort me, actually...”

You fall silent as you look at your husband wash dirt, grime and sweat away from his body, the soap diffusing a pleasant aroma in the tiny cabin; he seems content, even happy, because of that simple pleasure, and that brings a smile on your face.

“Let me.” you offer when he is about to wash his hair, and just like at home, Elendil obediently lowers himself in the tub until his head is immersed -which is easier said than done, when one’s legs are as long as his- and then re-emerges, and you, now kneeling behind him, rub the soap between your hands and begin washing his hair with it. 

“Oh... oh, yes.” Elendil groans as he feels your fingertips massaging his scalp, your fingers carding among the long dark locks “This is so nice... Yes, that spot there...”

“Elendil, I have washed your hair ever since we got married, and you still sound... like that.” you observe smiling. 

“I cannot help it if I appreciate your ministrations. It is good that you brought scissors; I have to cut my hair.”

“If you must; I have to admit long hair does become you. You can wash it away now.”

He complies, and then turns to look at you, quickly washing the soap away from your fingers. You hands meet above the rim of the tub; your fingers interwine, the simple, chaste contact filling your heart with comfort.

“What happened to you?” you whisper “I am sorry, I know this is the last thing you want to think about, but...”

“... but you have to know. I understand.”

Your husband sighs. “There is not much to say, if truth be told.” he admits, and he tells you that when Númenor’s army had achieved victory against the people of Draiwen, Elendil, being exhausted but unscathed, had volunteered for the sad task of retrieving the bodies of the fallen, so that even the lowest soldiers could be returned to their loved ones and laid to rest at home. He and a dozen of comrades had ventured to the farthest corner of the battlefield, looking for those among the dead who wore the colours of their homeland and loading them on a cart; almost half a day had passed since the end of the battle and the enemy army had been allowed to withdraw, but the soldiers were still wary, fearing some of the survivors had stayed behind.

They were right. Elendil was helping two of his men lift the body of a soldier from the ground when a group of Draiwenians led by an officer had swooped down on them, swords drawn.   

“The officer was... the brother of the man you bought me from; they had an arrangement, that his brother would make sure to capture one or more men each time he went to war, either seizing them on the battlefield or retrieving the wounded later on, and give them to the merchant in exchange for a sum of gold. He had seen us hiding behind an uprooted chariot, and decided we were exactly what he needed. Two of my men were killed during the confrontation; me and five more were taken captive. Two days later we reached the capital... and we met our new master.”

A wince of pain, more emotional than physical and because of this even more aching, appears on your husband’s face as he remembers his meeting with the smiling man; finding himself face to face with Melkor himself would probably have been less unpleasant. 

From that day on, the men of Númenor had joined the other slaves of the master, living in his house on the outskirts of the capital. Once a fortnight, they were brought to the marketplace to be inspected by potential buyers; a few prominent individuals also visited the master at home, for a private showing. More often, the slaves were lent for a fee to farmers, head-bricklayers or mine owners, the arrangement cheaper than free workers’ wage. The master had power of life and death over them; the guards abused and mistreated them out of simple pleasure every time they could. Two of your husband’s comrades were sold mere days after their capture, and two more in the following months; he never knew what had become of them. The last had been killed in a mining accident, only days past. 

“So you were the only one left.” you sumrise, shaken as you realize how lucky you have been; had the smiling man sold Elendil as it had happened to his friends, you doubt he would have told you how to find his new owner, and your husband could have been lost forever “I am so sorry, I... I did not even think about asking for your comrades, I would have gladly ransomed them as well...”

“I know you would have. Do not blame yourself, I am afraid they are lost forever.”

Your husband sighs; tiny drops of water run along his naked body, a sight you would normally find alluring, but right now you cannot help thinking how fragile he looks, and wonder how long it will take him to leave that nightmare behind. “I think he liked me; the master. He found me... interesting, in some way, but that did not make my life easier; quite the opposite. I think he had... challenged himself to find a way to break my spirit; hunger, torture, isolation...”

“Oh, Elendil...”

“I do not deserve to complain, and you should not either. I am still alive; so many cannot say the same.” 

He smiles, his blue eyes full of sadness and courage. “I never lost hope; I felt, even when pain and loneliness and hopelessness were about to overwhelm me... I felt that one day, somehow, I would see you again.” he confides “That is why I tried so hard to escape, because I knew that was not the end. And then I saw you; I felt the same as when I was a child and I woke up screaming from a nightmare, and my mother would come and take me in her arms; the same relief. I felt... safe.”

How many men would be capable, let alone willing, to utter those words? To betray not an ounce of regret and embarassment at being saved by a woman, and not simply because anything is better than slavery? Not many, surely, even in an enlightened society like Númenor; but Elendil is different, Elendil has never seen you as anything but his equal, in the intimacy of your relationship and in the open. He never took a decision before consulting you; he never asked you for something he would not give himself. He trusts you, your lord husband, and he thinks highly of you, not only as a lover and an homemaker, but also as the other part of him... a part he can entrust his heart, his possessions, and his very life to, knowing they would be kept safe. You would have not accepted his proposal otherwise, no matter how desperately in love you were with him and even though many women are content with less... and today, finally, you have shown him; you proved that he was right in trusting you.

“There is nothing I would not have done to find you and set you free.” you murmur; you can see he is getting cold, since the water was not warm to begin with, but even though he knows already you want him to hear that... to hear that no one, not even Eru himself, would have kept you away “No danger, no humiliation; I would have gladly sold my body to take you home; I would have died, and killed, to make sure you were safe.”

“I would not have asked you that.”

“But you would have done it, had our places be exchanged; or am I mistaken? And because of this, how could I not do everything within my power and more?”

If there is any fault in that reasoning your husband cannot find it, because he smiles, this time out of pure happiness. “How beautiful you are.” he says as he lifts your chin with his fingers, and you smile, as flattered as the first time you heard him utter those words, and then you close your eyes, because your husband is kissing you, and that deserves your full attention and participation.

You are shivering.

“Dress yourself, now.” you urge him then, as you stand and hand him a towel, another thing you brought with you from home “I will go find us something to eat.”

*****

The fare on the ship is not exactly what you would eat during a banquet at the palace, but the food on the pewter dishes you have collected from the galley is edible all the same; you have gotten used to it during the voyage to Draiwen, while Elendil had even worse during his captivity... and on a few of the ships he served on. Unhurriedly you eat, you sitting on the chair and he on the bed in front of you, sharing a jug of horrible wine and smiling at each other above the food, your feet touching under the tiny table.

"This reminds me of when we were courting." your husband mentions after a while, his voice full of affection "When we could not share a meal unless we were chaperoned by our parents, and the most we could do was look at each other and hold hands under the table."

"It was for our own good; to preserve the good name of our families. Had I gotten pregnant then, it would have been the end of all our dreams."

Elendil's large shoulders shrug, the perfect image of carefreeness. "We would have managed; it was already in our plans, to marry and raise a family. It would have simply happened a little earlier than we imagined."

You smile at the thought; it was frustrating back then, being unable to spend even just a few minutes with your beloved without the presence of one of your parents, but that only made being finally alone, in your home, more special... a goal you had reached together, out of your own free choice and not because there was a new life growing in your belly.

"My mother would have killed me. And my father would have killed you."

Elendil looks at you, feigning outrage. "But they adored me...!"

You share a grin, and return eating, and a few minutes later you are pushing the table with the tableware at the other side of the cabin, you both slip off your boots, and you reach your husband on the bed.

He happily welcomes you in his arms, lowering the both of you on the hard mattress as your bodies find each other, as they instinctively have done ever since your first hug, with ease and urge at the same time, the different shape of your flesh and his moulding against each other, so tight you can no longer discern where you end and he begins. Elendil's warm, solid body is a rock, an armor and a roaring fire all in one, and you contentedly snuggle against him as you let yourself be lulled by his heartbeat.

Not lulled to sleep, clearly; you had intentions for tonight, intentions that include a lack of clothes, and your husband's heavy and warm body above yours.

"How much did you have to pay to ransom me?" Elendil asks, his finger lazily drawing letters and shapes on the skin of your belly.

"Uhm... Not much. Less than I was willing to, surely."

"Really?" your husband asks, skepticism clear in his voice, and you smile as you twist a lock of his dark hair around your fingers; he looks very handsome with a longer mane, you must admit "Would you be relieved, or disgruntled? To know that the merchant did not ask for much."

He shrugs. "I was curious, that is all."

"It was an average price for a slave, I think. I do not know how we will feed ourselves, and our children, for the rest of the year, of course, but that is not important... I am jesting! Merely jesting, Elendil, do not worry." you laugh as you look at the dismayed grimace on his fair face "If you really want to know, I paid eighty gold pieces; reasonable enough, I think, from the little I know on the topic. Now, why do you not stop talking, and show me how happy you are to see me, as it is proper?"

He obeys, turning on the bed until you are laying under him, your fingers still hidden in his hair as his breath brushes against your cheek; he remains like that for a moment, his mouth an inch from yours as if he wanted to savour that moment, and

"Elendil, please." you whine, like you had not done perhaps since Isildur was born; your heart beats furiously, out of anticipation and simple, pure need, and you are certain that if you do not kiss him now, and soundly, something terrible will happen... You could be interrupted, for example. "Husband, please, I need you..."

He needs you as well, he needs you now like he has never needed you before, and it does not matter if every noise you make, every moan or stifled cry, will be heard and correctly interpreted by the crew. Let them hear, let them joke, let them be envious - he is fine with it; he and his beloved wife are together once more, and nothing else on all Arda matters.

Part of Elendil is tempted to rush, to get you both out of your clothes so that he can finally slip between your thighs, but no; this is not what you deserve, and while you have the whole night -and the many days to come, since it will take a while to reach Númenor- at your disposal, he wants to savour every second, and every moan and sigh escaping from your pretty lips, to make sure he deserves your love and devotion.

He lowers himself on you slowly, feeling you stop breathing for a moment, such is the anticipation of that simple touch you have experienced so many times after the first, sitting on a rock on one of Armenelos' many beaches, the sun warm on your skin and your chapped lips sweet against his. Since then it has never lost meaning, no matter how lazy or chaste those kisses where, and those you will exchange now will be neither of those things, Elendil has promised himself.

You immediately kiss him back, the tiny moan of pleasure eliciting a grin out of him; he peppers your face with kisses, your cheek and forehead and even your nose, and now you are the one laughing. "You are such a child." you gently reprimand him, and Elendil grins, propping himself on an arm next to your face, and then he kisses you once more, and no one is laughing anymore.

Your mouth is warm as Elendil takes possession of it, and his tongue finds yours, your whole body surging to press against his, your warm flesh and the delicious curves he has caressed and molded under his hands so many times making him groan. "Woman, you do not know what you do to me..."

"I want you, Elendil." you whisper back; you have already, completely lost control, so pure and open in your desire, and the beauty of you simply lying there, trusting and devoted and simply blissfully happy to be together once more, breaks his heart “I want you so much, my husband... please... I need to feel you...”

He happily complies, kissing you once more and easily parting your lips to deepen the contact; you both moan, breathless, when your tongue meet, and your body is almost writhing against his, desperately searching for a deeper contact, for any form of friction, for any source of relief against the need that is roaring inside you. You will have it; you will have all of him, you will have so much you will fear you will die of it, but you will be satisfied, and those six months you have spent apart will feel as a bad dream you have left behind.

“I love you.” he murmurs; you know already, and he knows those feelings are reciprocated, but the exhilaration of uttering those simple words never ceases to make his heart tremble... it feels like flying “I love you so much, wife...”

Your eyes are shining; you have never been more beautiful, and perfect, and radiant. “I love you too, my lord husband; I am yours, do what... oh... oh, Elendil...!”

That last moan -almost a cry, in reality, barely stifled by a hand pressed to your mouth; Elendil grins, promising to himself he will make you scream, unrestrained and so loud the whole ship will hear you, before the night is over- is due to his mouth moving from yours to your neck. There is a tiny point on the side of your throat that always makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and Elendil takes advantage of it; he mercilessly sucks on the tender flesh, eliciting sounds you would be normally be so embarassed of uttering, and he feels your heart pounding as he licks on your pulse, the lascivious contact leaving goosebumps on the flesh of both.

You are now cradling his head in your hands, your fingers playing with the hair he might decide not to cut, at least for a while, and he feels your laugh in your chest when he moves once more to press his mouth against the delicate flesh of your bosom. 

“Hmmm, here is a part of you I have sorely missed...”

“Oh, you are horrible...!”

There is something akin to devotion in the way he kisses your breasts, soft and warm, and you appear to appreciate it, because you make quick work of the knots on the front of your dress, slipping the cloth off your shoulders to bare your chest. 

“Oh, yes... oh, Eru, yes, Elendil, just like that...” you sigh; you are pressing your hips against his, hard enough to make him feel how wet you are “Do not stop, my love, do not stop...”

He has no intention to, and he makes it clear when he makes sure you are looking at him and then he drags his tongue against your left nipple, and he smiles when he sees you sigh; a moment later he has closed his lips around it, your hand still on his head as if to stop him from leaving -there is no need, obviously; but it is nice to feel you petting his hair- while Elendil plays with your chest, gently biting the tender flesh and then sucking on your nipples, relentless in that sweet torture that is making him harder than he ever remembers being. This is nice, this is so amazing, to worship your beautiful body like the queen you are, you who in his eyes are more beautiful and perfect than one of the Valië and deserve to be pleasured accordingly, but he wants more, he needs more, he needs to forget everything he is and has done, and to lose himself in your welcoming warmth. No woman has ever been like you, no one he has ever loved and cared for like you, and no one has ever loved him with the same devotion, the same fierce protectiveness and jealousy, like you; he would gladly give his life for yours, and every time your lie together, every kiss, every simple touch, makes him remember how fortunate he has been.

You are together again, free, safe, and soon you will be home with your children. Eru, what else could he want... apart from making love to you until the ship docks at Armenelos’ harbor?

“You do not... ah... plan on spending the whole night playing with my breast, do you?” you asks after a while; you are clearly enjoying his ministrations, but given the way your hands have started moving on his body, desperately touching and caressing any part of him you can reach, that will not satisfy your needs “We are not longer fifteen years old, Elendil.”

“Why, what did you do when you where fifteen, my wife?” he jokes, and then he offers you his hand to sit up, and immediately kisses you once more. “Shall I help you with your dress, my darling?”

He does, once you have stood from the bed and he is sitting on the side. He cannot help but grin as he looks at you disrobing, the dress falling in a circle of fabric around your naked feet. You are not wearing a shift, on account of the warm day, and in a moment your underclothes are likewise out of the way, so that you are finally nude, beautiful and radiant in front of him; there is no shyness in you -whatever ounce of modesty once existed in your body happily disappeared once you have become a married woman- but only a tiny, satisfied smile on your lips betrays the awareness of the effect you have on your husband. Elendil looks at you, and so many years, not to mention three children, have passed since the first time he held you in his arms, but one thing at least has not changed: your beauty still moves him to tears.

“You are so beautiful.” he murmurs, and there are no words in any language on Arda that can express what he feels, but he tries all the same, “Vanimelda, meleth nin.”, and he sees you smile. 

“I love you so much, husband.” you murmur, and you waste no time in reaching him, resting your arms on Elendils’s shoulders as his arms circle your waist, holding you close. You kiss again, your mouths searching for and finding each other as Elendil’s hands move on your warm skin; he is too dressed for what you are about to do, and your hands slip under the hem of his tunic, and Elendil is only too happy to help you take it off. You share a grin, but his expression turns to confusion as he finally notices something is off.

“Where is your necklace?” he asks, wondering how he did not realize it was missing the moment he started kissing your neck; ever since he gifted it to you, the thin silver chain has been part of your body as much as your hair or hands. You might have lost it, of taken it off after the clasp had broken, but something tells Elendil the reason is different... “The one with the pearl.”

“I...”

“What is wrong? I will not be disappointed if you decided to take it off, but...”

“No, that is not it.” you quickly answer, not bearing to have him think you have simply gotten bored with your most precious possession, the one thing that gave you some small amount of comfort while you were apart “Believe me, I never could; it is just...”

“Yes?”

“Please, do not ask me; Elendil, you are here with me, nothing else matters...” 

He whispers your name, quiet, as if he were facing a skittish horse ready to bolt at the least sign of danger. “Please, be honest, as we have always been. What has happened?”

You sigh, and there is shame on your face as you confess that the slave master demanded you let him have the necklace, in exchange for him. “I... I told him it was worth much less than I could offer in gold, that the necklace was only precious to me... but that was exactly why he wanted it. I offered him fivehundred gold pieces; he said no. Either I gave it to him, or he would not give me you. I... I know it makes no sense...”

But it does, at least for an heartless man who enjoys making others miserable, and Elendil has hated his master ever since they met, but now, and despite the relief he has felt knowing that he would never see him again, he is ready to order the ship to stop and return to Draiwen, and risk being captured again to face the man who humiliated his wife.

“I will kill him; with my bare hands.” he promises; put aside are the love, the passion, the relief, Elendil is ready forget his honour and the promise he made to himself to never spill blood if he does not have to, and make sure the smiling man rues the day he slighted his beloved wife “I will force him to beg for mercy at you feet, I will make him regret the day he was born.”

“No, Elendil.”

“Oh, yes. I will speak to the captain, we will be back in Draiwen by dawn, and then...”

“No, Elendil.” you repeat, more forcefully this time, taking his hands in yours; you are living such a beautiful, precious and intimate moment, and you hate wasting it talking and arguing, but you are determined to leave that experience behind you, and your husband’s rage, albeit righteous, would only make him put his life and freedom at risk a second time “Please; let us forget about it. I am saddened as well, more than I could explain, but nothing is more important than having you here; there is nothing I would not have done or given him to make sure you were safe, and back here with me. It is unfair, I know; but we are together, and nothing is more important than this.”

Your husband sighs, still unhappy as he takes your head in his hands and kisses your forehead - a chaste, loving gesture that fills your heart with comfort. “I would offer to buy you a new necklace...”

“... but it would not be the same; I know. Do not be sad; you gave me so many splendid gifts since we began courting, and I do not need material possessions to remember what we share, or to feel you close to my heart. Please, let us stop talking about it. I want you, and I want you to show me how much you have missed me.” 

Still unhappy, your husband smiles nonetheless, and slowly lowers his eyes on your naked body, as if anticipating everything he is going to do to you. “As my mistress commands.” he answers in that deep, musical voice of his that still makes you feel like the girl whose heart trembled the first time he held her hand “What is it that you want? What would make you happy?”

You tell him that you are already happy, given that he is there with you, and the thing you would like the most is to touch his body without the hindrance of his clothes.

“That can be arranged.”

The clothes you had lovingly taken from his dresser at home, guessing that whatever you would find him wearing would be dirty, ragged, and in any case not right for him, slowly fall from the bed to keep your dress and underclothes company. You help him take off his tunic, and you waste no time in kissing the skin you have just brought to light; your husband laughs softly as you let your lips wander, from his shoulders to his collarbone to his pectorals, lingering there long enough to return the favour and deliver a sweet, excruciating torture on his nipples, using your lips and your tongue and even your teeth to force a series of moans out of him. You have been married, and intimate, for so long, and this has given you a complete and perfect knowledge of what arouses and pleases your husband, and now you put that skill to work to show him how you missed him, how you love him, and how happy and grateful you are to have him by your side.

He whispers your name, he moans and begs and prays, torn between pain and desire. “Please... please, my love...”

“Please what, dear husband?” you candidly ask; he is lying on the bed with you kneeling between his spread legs, his torso partially lifted to meet your gaze, frustrated and aroused by the proximity-but-not-quite-contact with your naked body. His pleading blue eyes speak better than his musical voice ever could... but you must admit, it is pleasant to hear him admit what effect you have on him. 

“My darling, I... I need to take you. Please, I... it has been so long... I need to be inside you. So warm ad beautiful and tight... please, darling, I cannot wait, I do not know how long I can resist...”

It would be torture to deny him, even just for a few minutes, and at least in this occasion, you decide to take pity on him - a little bit; you lower your mouth along his abdomen until you meet his navel, which you kiss and suck while you start taking care of his trousers, careful not to touch the turgor underneath. 

“Lift.” you order, and your husband obediently raises his hips to let you take off the rest of his clothes; he is finally naked, his erection proudly raised in front of you, heavy and hard and so perfect for you... and once you have abandoned your husband’s trousers on the floor, you observe it, your hand lazily caressing the heat between your legs, but without touching him at all. 

Your husband looks at you, appalled. “Woman, what are you doing?”

“Looking at you. Should I not? You are very handsome. I enjoy looking at you.”

“Should you not do more than simply admiring me?”

“Hmmm, perhaps...”

He glares at you, menancing and at the same time unable to hide the effect having you there, naked, touching yourself, has on him; you smile sweetly, and then you rest your hand on his ankle, slowly moving it upward along his leg, and then his thigh, and then finally you are wrapping your fingers around Elendil’s erection, already wet with pre-come, and when you caress the tip with your thumb as you move your hand up and down along the shaft, a litany of cries and invocations leaves your husband’s mouth. He is thoroughly enjoying your ministrations, and he deserves to be taken care of, after everything he has been through, and this is why you keep working him for a while, and there is so much you would like to do -take him in your mouth to suck him until he can no longer remember his name, sit on his face and let him use his tongue to make you climax, having him use his long and callous fingers to penetrate you as you kiss- and you will, because it will take you many days to reach Númenor, and what better way you could find to pass the time? But by now, as pleasant as it is to torture him denying him his relief, you cannot wait to have him inside you, sharing your pleasure and your bodies like you have done so many times before. You need him, just like you need air to live; and you will have him, and he will have you, so much time will stop flowing.

He is panting by the time you stop, bending to kiss the tip of his shaft before you lie on the bed next to him; your husband’s hand quickly rests on your hip, warm, possessive, as the two of you gaze in each others’s eyes.

“How do you want me?” you ask, and you have never seen a live wolf, but the grin your husband answers your question with is positively predatory. 

“Above me. Please, mistress.”

“As you wish.” 

You share a new kiss, your legs interwining and Elendil’s shaft pleasantly pressing against you, before your husband wraps his arm around your waist and turns on his back, pulling you above him; you smile, finding a comfortable position with your knees pressing on the bed on either side of his hips, and you move your hands up and down his chest, still unable to quite believe he is safe, and with you, and that he has chosen you to entrust his heart. 

Ulmo, what have you done to be so fortunate?

The ship is rolling under the bed, the oscillatory movement making you feel as if you were being rocked in a cradle; silence has fallen on the cabin, the shadows of the night surrounding you. You see Elendil hold his breath as you take him, slowly welcoming him inside you as you lower yourself on his shaft, and he was right, you are tight, as tight as you were during your wedding night, and you have no idea why, since you have been together so many times in the many years of your marriage, but you do not mind, quite the opposite, because feeling your husband inside you is so nice, so delicious, every inch of him slowly penetrating your flesh with a sensation that is not pain, not exactly, and if you are moaning, and crying, it is because every part of you, your very body and soul together, is singing, and the wave is already mounting inside you, the friction between your bodies making you feel as if your flesh were on fire. Any ounce of self-control is vanishing in the face of something so natural and common and at the same time precious and special. You are a lock and your husband is the key, a source of pleasure and intimacy and harmony, and it is his heart you love, and his mind, his bravery and kindness and sincerity, and that is important as well, because you would not know how to -oh yes Elendil, oh Eru my love yes like this, do not stop, do not stop- how to explain it, but the love you share makes moments like this even more intense, because he is yours and you are his, and no one, no one in all of Arda, would ever give you what he does.

"Eru, you are glorious." your husband whispers in awe. He is looking at you as if in a trance, almost bewitched by the sight of your body dancing above his, the warmth and the tightness so familiar and still able to make him lose his mind; you are so perfect for him, a source of companionship and affection and support and pleasure, and he will never renounce you, he will defend you with his life if need be, and the way you moan his name is almost enough to make him come.

He holds your hips in his hands, fierce and avid in his desire, and he is almost close to his relief when he finally sees you reach yours. "Elendil!" you scream - a real, piercing scream, loud enough to be heard by the whole ship, but you do not care, because your husband has taken your hand to draw you to him, and when he takes your face in his hands and kisses you, now is when you finally come, your body surrendering to the storm of pleasure and sensation while Elendil's strong arms keep you close, because he is not sated with you yet, and he never will be.

"I love you so much." you moan, light-headed and shivering, and that is the moment when he finally follows you beyond the brink, your words the sparkle of a destructive fire, and Elendil is beautiful in his pleasure, his strong body gasping and writhing for the sweet, sensual torture the union of your bodies have given birth to, his hips slapping against yours as he desperately tries to extend your bliss.

"Wife... My wife... How I love you, how... You are so beautiful..." he pants, and when your eyes meet he smiles, and you smile back, humbled and happy, and hold on to him as hard as you can.

*****

Your husband’s scream pierces the room, and unlike those that preceded it until only an hour ago, it does not express pleasure or relief, rather a deep, excruciating fear, that immediately wakes you... and fills you with alarm.

“Elendil! Elendil, stop it, it is all right.” you pray trying to calm him, but at first, he does not seem to hear you; still naked as the day he was born, he is sitting on the bed, hands clenched into fists, eyes wide open and facing horrors only he can see, shaking out of fear. His nightmares -because that must have been the reason for his state; what else?- have brought him so far from the intimacy you are sharing, so far even from you, that when you rest a hand on his shoulder, he reacts in alarm, jolting and instinctively raising his hands to protect himself - or to attack.

“Elendil, my love. No one is hurting you; it is me. You are safe.”

“Safe...?” he repeats, slowly, as if he did not comprehend the meaning of that simple word; he is tense, like a warrior facing the enemy army approaching, and when you cautiously take his hands in yours, it seems to take him a while to even recognize you.

“Yes; safe.” you reassure him, heart full of pity but forcing yourself to smile “I freed you, remember? You are no longer a slave.”

Finally, he relaxes, fully awake once more, and sighs. “I am sorry if I scared you, and I awoke you." he apologizes as he passes an hand in his untamed hair; there was no real need for the blanket you have spread on the bed before both of you fell asleep, since the night is warm, but your husband shivers, as if he were naked under the snow “I had... a bad dream.”

“As I thought. Do you... do you wish to talk about it?”

He shakes his hand, determined, as if he wished nothing less. “I am all right; nightmares cannot hurt me, can they not?” he reasons, as he lies on the bed once more, lifting the blanket to let you join him “Once we will be back in Númenor, I will feel better; I only have to leave this... period... behind me.”

“There is no shame in suffering, Elendil." you consider, taking his hand in yours “Especially when someone has been abused and enslaved, like you are.”

He sighs, the dark mane of his hair falling in rivulets on his chest and shoulders. “I know, but the more I keep thinking about it, the harder it will be to return to my life, and to appreciate what I have. I... I cannot promise I will sleep well from now on, but I know that the moment I am back home, it will be the period I have spent as a slave in Draiwen that will feel like a bad dream.”

You snuggle under the blanket, holding each other as your husband sweetly kisses your forehead, making you smile. "Any nightmare you will have to face, I will be here to wake you up." you reassure him; you can feel his heart beat close to yours, calm and strong and steady, and you think about how nice it will be, to fall asleep to that sound "And if that is the type of nightmare that strikes during the day... we will face it together. I promise."

Elendil smiles back. "With you by my side, my wife." he murmurs "I will never fear anything."

"You will keep that in mind, husband." you caution him, and then you hold him in your arms until you both fall asleep.

TAGGING @starlady66​ and @hippodameia​. 

[theflavorofmyautismisspicy]

Here’s some songs I’ve assigned to some of the dwk animated series characters

Leon

Afraid-The Neighborhood

Abandonment issues, especially the fear of being replaced and the fear of your friends secretly hating you…this song was made for him

Ravistettava ennen käyttöä-Apulanta

It’s a Finnish rock song about a guy who thinks there’s something wrong with him and tries to cope with it with reckless and pessimistic behavior so yeah fits him in general

Vanessa

Word Up!-Korn

This just fits her personality since it’s about being unapologetically yourself and not caring about others judging you

(The original version is made by Cameo but I think Korn’s cover of it fits her more)

I Hate My Mom-GRLwood

Pretty self explanatory, mommy issues and and having to face misogyny

Jojo

Duvet-bôa

To quote the anonymous person who send me their assigned Jojo song,

“mental illness. not much else to say”

All though I will add this song would probably specifically fit his life around the time when his mom got send to the hospital since the feeling of being so lost

Thank You Mom-Good Charlotte

Pretty self explanatory, his relationship with his mom even if times weren’t always easy

Deniz

Bitter Choco Decoration-Syudou

Perhaps a bit extreme but it fits his character before the series and even during it, especially at the beginning. Like his masking, identity crisis and trying to be like what other people, especially his dad, always wanted him to be

I’m A Marionette-Ghost

Same theme, however especially his relationship with his dad before the series and at the beginning of it and like the loneliness it’s implied he experienced at that time

Damn I just assigned extreme angst to Deniz. Uuhh good luck next time? I’ll assign something happier then

Markus

Hell Above-Pierce the Veil

Fits his struggles at home through the series and how soccer and his team are his escape from it

The Hand That Feeds-Nine Inch Nails

This just kinda fits the whole “the politicians suck a lot and his dad is working directly with them” struggle he has to navigate through

Raban

How Soon Is Now?-t.A.T.u

This just fits his loser boy (I mean that in the most positive way) personality since it’s about insecurity, feeling isolated and the need to be accepted and loved

Life Itself-Glass Animals

Again fits his personality, like his tendency to keep on trying and stay positive even if others don’t appreciate that

Marlon

I Want My Tears Back-Nightwish

Ah yes angst, Marlon probably had to take responsibility pretty early on his life due to his family situation and now he can mourn the things he lost when having to grow up too fast

Carpe Diem-Joker Out

Fits his personality, he is genuinely a kind person who sees good in others so song about rejecting hate and just having fun with those close to you should fit

(Also it’s in Slovenian but I also included a few Finnish songs and a Japanese one so yeah, language barriers be damned)

Willi

Sunday Morning-The Velvet Underground

Some depression from the 60s, feeling all the years that you’ve wasted hit you during a Saturday-Sunday night, it was pretty much made for him

Tahroja paperilla-Eppu Normaali

A Finnish rock song about a guy reminiscing about their past but also acknowledging that moving forward doesn’t make those experiences any less meaningful. I’d say coaching the team has given him happiness and also some closure with his past so yeah it fits that

Mr Theumer

As Your Father I Expressly Forbid It-Lemon Demon

Honestly the title is pretty self explanatory but not understanding how to bond with your child, criticizing their interests and acting antagonistically towards them is pretty on brand for him

Natasha

Valley of the Dolls-Marina

This fits her just in general, parental issues and only really showing a fake identity to other people

The team as a whole

(Just kinda throwing these here since I’ve already mentioned them in some post)

Kids In The Dark-All Time Low

Mama-My Chemical Romance

Kryptonite-3 Doors Down

Teenagers-My Chemical Romance

Immortals-Fall Out Boy

Party At The End Of The World-My Chemical Romance

Willi’s old team

The Kids from Yesterday-My Chemical Romance

That’s it for now👍👍

[richardsgraysons]

Hey Zoya, if you're still doing match ups can I pls ask for a batboys match?

I'm female, early 20s, INFJ, introvert, hufflepuff, asexual (idk not sure if I "qualify" as ace cuz it's a mix of religious beliefs, past abuse and revulsion), recovered from an anxiety/panic disorder but still have some left over odd things that I refer to as heebie jeebies lol, bilingual, short and slim, brunette, blue eyes

I enjoy music of all genres (some of my favs are lady gaga esp her stuff with tony bennett, nightwish, tøp, foo fighters, ray charles, temptations, etta james, florence welch, barbra streisand, judy garland, sinatra, postmodern jukebox). reading (currently reading dc black label The Human Target, The woman in black, and the crow garden), embroidery, dress making, tumblring and daydreaming, I love going for an evening walk by myself in the cold November/December dark its just 💖, I collect vintage clothing and tea cups. When the heebie jeebies kick in I self soothe/attempt to chill the fuck out by listening to gnr dont cry and patience

I am a bit of a pushover, I prioritise others feelings and comfort over myself, find it difficult to say no to people to an extent that it is kind of ridiculous. I don't really burn bridges, cut people off or hold grudges- I'm a turn the other cheek, forgiveness kind of person but obviously within reason I'm not gonna keep someone unsafe around me y'know

JASON TODD

it’s definitely not a “i hate your guts” but a “how am i attracted to you type of relationship”

you said you don’t want to keep someone unsafe around you? lets take that literally! jason todd is the most unsafe mf around! doesn’t mean he’s a threat to you though. just to everyone else

jason is such a sucker for barbra streisand oh god. one of his favorite pieces of media is probably funny girl

he also adores vintage clothing. something about it transports him back to 1920s America right before the recession in the roaring 20s

he would not let you prioritize someone else’s feelings over you anymore. nope. you may hate him for it for a few days, but he can deal with it

he loves the winter too!!! hot cups of chocolate, cozy fireplaces, stupid santa hates…this man dresses up for Christmas 100% (as he should)

he can and will help you with your anxiety disorder. jason strikes me as the guy who’s clueless about these things but once he’s made light to them, he’s a lot more considerate and super sweet

he does everything he can to educate himself about it, and eventually learns what makes you tick

jason’s love language is physical touch but he loves, loves, loves it when it’s not sexual. he just wants to make his presence known 🫶

[redcatmusings]

Pspspsps

This is an homage for a friend of mine who writes amazing ATLA/LOK fanfiction. I just wanted to draw attention to her work and show my own appreciation for her great stories ^.^ I decided to write Kuvira’s point of view from one of her works titled “Succor”. 

You can read her original story here -->

And you can check out her awesome tumblr and multiple head canon analysis here--->

Enjoy! :)

Oh, how I wish

for soothing rain

All I wish is to dream again

My loving heart

Lost in the dark

For hope I’d give my everything

- Nemo, Nightwish

Blue eyes as clear as as a sunny day, connect briefly with my own. I can feel it, the awkward smile she offers, soft and apologetic; a hint of pity perhaps? For a moment I want to scoff and turn away, but even this, is fleeting. Resignation is what I feel, acceptance of the fate my path has lead me down. There is no more need for pretense, laid bare am I before any who would come. In truth, I hadn’t thought she would, for who am I but another obstacle to overcome. Yet here she stands before me, seeking my permission for an audience. So caught off guard am I, by the sincerity of her tone that my voice cracks for but an instant as I reply. “You are not beholden to me Avatar Korra. What I did back then was out of my own volition.” Though I am caged like an animal I refuse to lose that last shred of dignity, my pride though bruised, will not be stripped away from me. I am not a charity case, I refuse to be one. This I can do, absolving the Avatar from any pains of guilt and obligation, one last act of free will. I can see her eyes now holding me in her gaze, she knows I too, have not forgotten our shared time together.

Her confession to me only fuels disbelief. The Avatar wants to ease my pain instead of curse my name?  How could this be, after all I put them through; after all I put HER through. “Why don’t you hate me?” I ask, perplexed that Korra would even give the time of day to me after all that had transpired. Was I not her enemy, the very thing endangering her friends? “No” She answers. “Because you are like me.”

Her words reach deeper than she could ever know, they pull at thoughts long buried and left unanswered. The what ifs, the if onlys and all the could have beens begin to creep back into my mind; shaking my resolve. “I...I don’t want to be alone” my words escape my lips barely above a whisper. I cannot hide the desperation in my tone, the need for human connection; something, anything. I begin to feel my self-control slipping away, laying bare what I had hoped to hide from everyone; vulnerability.

“Tonight you don’t have to.” There is a softness in her tone. She reaches out her hand as if to extend a lifeline for me to hold onto and for a moment, I am transported out of my grim situation and back to the rooftop where we met. I slip into the sweet memory of her kiss and the blissful night that followed….

[ir0n-moon]

Tag game

Rules: Share 10 facts about yourself and tag other blogs! I want to get to know my mutuals, and the people I follow a little bit :) The facts can be about anything! Tagged by: @ladywartooth42

1. I love kidlit and my biggest pipe dream is one day making my favorite children's novel into an animated mini-series. I like to sketch concepts for the character designs during my free time!

2. I'm a former gifted kid except I didn't burn out but willingly gave up the lifestyle at some point.

3. I started watching Metalocalypse when I was in middle school, which... I know, probably fried my brain. Back then I was already crushing HARD on Charles, even though I could only find season 1 on some sketchy low-quality website. It was only in 2021 when I found the whole show on HBOmax (😑) and finally watched it all. It was like reuniting with a long-lost friend.

4. I'm on Zoloft due to a case of The Heebie-Jeebies (anxiety) but if all goes well I'll be taken off of it in a couple of months YIPEE

5. I like reading out loud for other people. I've forced my boyfriend to sit through me reading the novel I mentioned in point number 1 and I've also read a couple of books to my mom in the car while she drives. I think I'm pretty decent at it. I won't do overly exaggerated voices for the characters, but I do try to adjust my pace and tone to fit each scene.

6. Even though I'm mexican I fucking hate avocados.

7. I'm illustrating each song from an album by my favorite band (Nightwish!) as a final project for school. It's what I'm currently working on and the reason I can't indulge in making Metalocalypse fanart as much as I'd like to. You can see a little bit of my progress on that project over at my art blog! More to come soon!

8. I was raised catholic (oof, I know), but I am now a weird type of atheist who only half-hopes the christian god exists just so I can punch him and also 100% believes in fairies for various reasons.

9. I collect kaleidoscopes! My collection is rather small but I'm proud of it. This one is my favorite of them all:

10. While I *know* that corporations are the most responsible for pollution and climate change, I still try to live as low waste as possible! I carry a reusable water bottle, I use a menstrual cup and often try to pack a lunch from home when I'm going out, in order to avoid buying food in disposable packages. If you catch me at a convenience store or ordering takeout it's probably because I'm really hungry and/or tired! I'm not perfect, but I still try!

Tagging: (Please don't feel pressured to participate if you don't feel like it!) @gogomeaty, @gointothevvater, @thatwritingho, @twigg96, @dolly-macabre, @black-klok-youth-pastor and @pikaflute. ALSO if anyone else wants to do this consider yourself tagged and go tell people I tagged you no one will fact check it I promise

[fitzrove]

My personal Nightwish album ranking even though nobody asked

1. Century Child

2. Dark Passion Play

3. Oceanborn

4. Once (though I'm REALLY not sure which should be #3, Once or OB)

5. Imaginaerum

6. Wishmaster

7. Angels Fall First

8. Endless Forms Most Beautiful

9. Human Nature (SORRY, it's not bad, the other ones are just really awesome)

BEST SONGS FROM EACH ALBUM

I love Nightwish an abnormal amount so for this list, I decided to be very selective - to qualify as a "best song" for this list, it needs to be something I would play at my wedding (or equivalent big life event xD) (ignore the fact that not all of the lyrics in these are appropriate for Public Playing at Big Life Events - I just picked that example to convey the importance of the songs)

Century Child: ALL OF THEM

Dark Passion Play: TPATP, BBB, Amaranth, MPG, Sahara, WBTN, 7 Days to the Wolves, Meadows of Heaven

Oceanborn: Stargazers, Swanheart, Moondance, Sleeping Sun

Once: Dark Chest, Romanticide, GLS. Ghost Love Score basically counts as two or three amazing songs

Imaginaerum: Storytime, SLS, IWMTB, TLTM, LROTD

Wishmaster: She is My Sin, Wanderlust, uhhh it's really solid as a whole?? It also has the most interchangeable songs though fjfkkf

Angels Fall First: Elvenpath, Angels Fall First, Lappi (parts I & III)

Endless Forms Most Beautiful: I like it a lot because of the associated memories - it was the first album I Eagerly Awaited, and I actually saw Nightwish irl for the first time because there was an album signing event that I went past on an escalator lol. Didn't get anything signed because the line was very long and my parents dragged me away to an event we had to go to. I did get to go to several tour spots for the EFMB tour later and see them there :') think the only standout songs for me are Yours is An Empty Hope, ODITS and TGSOE, though. The best song from this era is actually Sagan and I'm annoyed it's not on the album xD I have the band shirt design with Sagan lyrics tho and I love it so much, one of my favourite pieces of clothing

Human Nature: Not many standouts for me I'm afraid... I like it!!! It just hasn't stuck with me like the rest. I did listen to the orchestral "side" constantly while studying for my uni entrance exams, which was nice. If I have to pick favourite songs it's probably Noise and Endlessness? Absolutely hate Harvest tho, which is very rare for me with Nightwish songs jsjfkdkdkdkd. It was one of the prereleased songs afaik and I remember walking through a grocery store listening to it and being really disappointed. Rip I can't believe my least favourite NW member is the one I've talked to IRL - we ran into each other the morning after a show lol

[valentinesparda]

omg you understand me xD im about to sit down and start working on mine finally!! 🙉🎲🐣🙊 with noah and meliora!! <3 if you dont feel like talking abt them you can change it to whoever ur fixated on!

HIIII @kumoriselfships i haven't thought about either of these self inserts in forever and i can answer for noah but definitely not meliora 🥺🥺!! they werent developed far enough for me to be able to think about them deeply orz instead of meliora though, i can answer for faust, who is a bit more developed lmao !!

🙉 - what songs or sounds do you associate with your s/i? what sounds do they like? what sounds do they hate?

NOAH: i associate noah with crunching snow, hoofbeats, an isolated piano, and swishing fabric. also the sounds of chess pieces being moved around a board.

they love the sounds of nature and horses, snow and ice dripping off of melting branches and the soft soft patter of snowflakes in an empty forest or garden. heavy breaths of mounts and the sound of them pawing at the ground.

they loathe the sound of dimitri's voice and though they're initially afraid of the sounds of swords clashing and are scared of the idea of a battlefield (one sound in particular they hate is the loud thwack of an axe piercing wood) they grow numb to it over their years.

song - nemo by nightwish :) i have a really cool AMV cooking in my head for them with this song

FAUST: the opposite of noah, they are a crackling bonfire, the howl of wind, and the shaking of leaves in trees. the chittering of bugs and laugh of a fox in the distance. broken glass tinkling together underfoot and the scratch of a heavy polyester under your nails.

they love the sounds of mondstadt in their peripheral, filtered through trees and carried overwind. when they hear the ocean for the first time, they cry.

sounds they loathe are cart wheels, the creaking of a large wooden ship, and general wood noises. they have a weird thing about wood ever since they crashed through a rotten house once. they also have a problem with loud horns.

song - i haven't found one yet for them!! i will soon i promise fhjsjdjd

🎲 - name a weird skill your s/i has that you don't.

NOAH: they can play the violin and are like. a chess prodigy, both of which i cannot attest to myself. i don't understand chess and i used to own a violin but i couldn't play it for shit LMAO

FAUST: EXPERT PICKPOCKET. can lockpick anything ever.

🐣 - give a description of their childhood. do they have any good memories? what sticks out when they think of their younger years?

NOAH: their childhood was very very hectic. their mother was a battlefield commander and they can count on one hand how much she was actually home, and between that and the lessons they had to take very suddenly at an older age than the rest of the young lords and ladies around them they barely had time to breathe. the only good memory that they have is giving a helping hand at the local dress shop and learning to sew.

FAUST: cant remember a damn thing about their childhood. they basically just spawned into existence is how they like to explain it but that's pretty accurate (body taken over by fox spirit). they "remember" being a kit.

🙊 - what is something that never fails to make them laugh? do they have things that they say often? what are some things your s/i has said that they regret?

NOAH: balthus makes them giggle BUT in private. they ONLY laugh in private or with someone they REALLY trust (manuela). they laugh about very silly stuff like bad puns and item failures. sylvain is pretty good about getting a smile out of them every once in a while but that's because he's so charming and they think of him as a little brother.

they don't say much but they always say "must you be so loud?" all the time to everyone ever. sensitive asshole. often go "hm?" or "hm." instead of talking.

the one thing they regret saying is telling balthus they were to be married when they leave the academy. it worked out in the end but it broke their heart.

FAUST: going flying petrifies them every time but they really do enjoy it in some weird way. they also like hanging around with amber, she's really fun. :)

they tell people lies a lot. not anything serious, just sarcastic little lies for inconsequential stuff. a catchphrase of theirs is "ho?" or "hee hee!"

as far as things they regret, they regret telling the cops anything ever. always pinning crimes on them they've never been a part of (that's a lie they are guilty). i don't have a serious answer. :)

[dogmomwrites]

Find the Words Tag

Another I'm late in responding to, but I'll always catch up! eventually... Thanks for the tag, @oh-no-another-idea! Passing it along with soft tags to @asher-orion-writes, @bardic-tales, @elizaellwrites, and @careful-pyromancer, as well as an open tag!

Your words will be sudden, enchant, great, and criticize. If you can't find one, leave a fun fact about your WIP, OCs, or writing process!

My words were friend, married, love, partner, and sibling. These excerpts were taken from books 1 and (mostly) 4 from my fantasy series.

Friend (book 4) Staying where he was as the emperor drew near, Bashkier said in a low voice, “Say nothing. I’m expected here; you’re not.”

“Hail, Kieran, and well met, my friend,” Emperor Saervin called, slowing his horse to a walk so he could hear the response over the hooves. He looked curiously at Theo.

Bashkier inclined his head. “It’s been a long time, lord.”

“Indeed, longer than I’d thought. You no longer look like a young boy anymore. You’ve grown in these past years.”

“Well, they were growing years.”

Married (book 4) Flex Fightmaster was one such person, an expert at hand-to-hand combat, able to break a stack of nearly twenty bricks with one hand, one blow, cleanly down the middle. His speed was legendary, as was his focus and dedication to his craft. He’d trained his body to its peak. He’d trained with dozens of weapons and perfected his form with all of them. When he finally married, at the surprising age of eighty-two, he’d already been going by the name for more than fifty years, so it made sense that the name was made official.

Love They left the door open, and he turned to the tray of food and drink and carefully picked up a crystal decanter full of amber liquid. He upended it over the lovely rug. A guard protested, jabbing the butt of his spear into Bashkier’s side.

Bashkier looked him in the eyes, not stopping what he was doing. “Forgive me, I’m quite distraught.”

Despite herself, Theo couldn’t help a tiny smile as the guard snatched the now empty glass from him.

Partner (book 4) Looking up and down the hall, Lukalt checked that no one else was around. “What rumors have you brought me today?” he asked.

The cat arched his back in a stretch and padded alongside his research partner. “Perhaps I should be asking you that. It’s come to my attention that you had an exceptionally late night last night.”

“Did Captain Nightwish tell you?”

“He told me enough to give me assumptions and not enough for any real certainty. You know how he is.” Flicking his ear, Old Tom craned his neck to look up at Lukalt. “It was very odd to see him without that sword stuck to his back—I thought something had happened. It’s a magnificent blade and a very generous loan.”

Sibling (book 1) “What did they ever do to you?”

It had just come out, the floodgates opening of their own accord. He hadn’t been able to stop it. He felt as though the pain and shame would kill him if he tried, almost hoped it would.

It was a dragon that killed my brother and sister. It was a dragon that I saw tear my baby siblings apart. It was a dragon that gave me the nightmares, that made my only remaining brother hate me. It was a dragon that made me a coward.

He looked down, hiding his face from the others. That wasn’t true. He’d always been a coward. Too scared to even try to save his brother and sister. The dragon hadn’t made him a coward, it had just shown him what a coward he already was.

[maerynaire]

I'm doing the clangen thing but I have a problem so I'm doing 6 clans and coming up with complex lore for them. This is RainClan. They live near a waterfall. More under the cut.

These guys are a complete Mess. Most of the cats in the clan are very young because (barring the medicine cats, Eaglescar, Pricklestripe, and Nightwish) pretty much all of the older cats died following a large battle where it was them vs the rest of the clans who felt like they were getting too big and bossy, not to mention their old leader was basically a tyrant. Nightwish, Pricklestripe, and Eaglescar were banished during the time that the battle took place.

Stormstar is a baby compared to the rest of the leaders are 30 moons old, and was made deputy due to some shenaniganry by the old leader. She's adventurous, brash, and kind of a little shit. Her parents are Nightwish and Eaglescar, and her brother is Sunrain.

Fogmask is deputy and she's always got her head in the clouds. She wasn't born to the clans and was instead brought back by the three exiles after the old leader was killed. She got promoted to deputy because Stormstar wanted to impress her. All-in-all, she's actually good at her job so it worked out.

Sandgale and Moonfoot are the oldest cats in the clan and two thirds of the medicine cats. Sandgale is the Ultimate Grandma and Moonfoot is kind of a jerk. They perfectly balance each other out and have been working together since they were both apprentices.

Hareleap is the final medicine cat and she enjoys causing problems. Just a silly little guy. Also she's pink and I don't care if that's realistic or not.

Nightwish looks like an edgy dad, but in reality just has terminal resting bitch face. He, his mate Eaglescar, and Pricklestripe were exiled by the old leader for an attempted coup orchestrated by Eaglescar. He got his scars from said leader.

Pricklestripe is lovely. They are one of my favorites. They are kind, compassionate, and a bit of a goofball. They lost their leg during the failed coup. During their exile, they had a whirlwind romance with a mysterious stranger, and brought back the result of that romance... Cranepaw.

Eaglescar is the reason Stormstar is like that. She shares her daughters overall headstrong and adventurous personality, though tempered by time and experience. She got her name and scars after nearly being taken away by an eagle when she was an apprentice. She was brought to RainClan as a tiny baby, and had a brother who was taken to RiftClan. Some prophecy junk that never came to pass.

Dancingmoon is objectively the best fighter in RainClan, and among the best in all six clans. She is also very sleepy. Let her nap.

Heavyswipe IS an edgy dad. For a period of time after he was made a warrior, he'd disappear for periods of time, never tell anyone where he was, and one day brought back his three horrible sons, Spikekit, Springkit, and Hurricanekit. His brother is Dustcloud and they have a very strained relationship. Despite everything, he's a good and caring father.

Dustcloud is the opposite of his angsty brother. He's insecure, but friendly and tries to be positive. He's doing his best.

Thrushcall is one of the guys to ever exist. There he is. It's Thrushcall.

Shimmerfawn and Brokenbranch are sisters. They are orange. Shimmerfawn is nice and kind of dumb and Brokenbranch is mean and cynical. They're a comedy duo.

Cricketspark lives for drama. She will be the one to let a secret slip just to see what will happen. She loves running into other clans on patrol or during gatherings just for the gossip alone. I love her.

Rubblecrash is the granddaughter of Moonfoot, which isn't the best thing to be. She's very frequently stressed and overanalyzing her actions. Which is probably why she's close with resident goofballs Sunrain and Hareleap who help take a lot of that pressure off.

Sunrain is a silly guy who likes to make people laugh. He's most likely to become a mediator as he's a pathological placater who hates conflict. He buries his unhappiness deep underground where nobody can find it.

Poppypetal is the daughter of the old leader, and as such isn't exactly well-liked by a lot of the others in both her clan and outside of it. She is actually rather close with Stormstar who is pretty much the only one keeping her in the clans at all. Poppypetal herself is cold and quick-witted.

Strikepaw and Cranepaw are apprentices full of BOUNDLESS ENTHUSIASM. Cranepaw is very much the leader of the two and drags Strikepaw into all sorts of misadventures.

Spikekit, Hurricanekit, and Springkit are Heavyswipe's brood of horrible children. They're energetic and inquisitive and the only people who can even hope to keep them out of trouble are Heavyswipe, Sandgale, and Moonfoot.

All in all it's a wonder anything gets done.

[platoapproved]

28 and 56 pls 🖤

28: "Dark Chest of Wonders" by Nightwish (shocked tbh this one wasn't higher, it's a real go-to for early mornings for me)

Once I had a dream And this is it

I was already asked 56 so I will do 55 and 57 instead 🖤

55: "MAMMAMIA" by Måneskin

They wanna arrest me, but I was just having fun I swear that I'm not drunk and I'm not taking drugs They ask me why I'm so hot, 'cause I'm Italiano

57: "I Love Myself for Hating You" by DIAMANTE

Serious though, you kinda messed up I was there for you, ‘til you got caught Cheating, lying, etcetra dot dot dot Hey baby, forever your loss!