#as an elf enjoyer how dare they

[tategaminu]

The books everytime Arya is on page: Arya has black hair and green eyes. Did I mention she's an elf? She's an elf. She has pointy ears like an elf does. Arya has elven ears. Arya has pointy ears. Arya is an elf. Her hair is black and her eyes are green by the way. I hope I mentioned she's an elf. Black hair. Green eyes. Elf.

The bozos in charge of the movie: K

[arc-misadventures]

The High Elf’s Tale

Lady Willow Schnee…

She was a high elf that had lived to be nigh on a thousand year. She was a mother of three wonderful children, two girls, and a boy. And, she was unfortunate married to a repulsive, slime ball of a high elf.

It was a forced marriage her parents put her through; something about keeping the bloodline pure. They said this as if it was something sacred, and special to uphold in high regard. Yet keeping the bloodline pure often lead to a unsanitary deal of inbreeding, and the various noble bloodlines of the human nations had taught anyone who had eyes to see the vile, and various consequences of inbreeding.

Luckily for, Willow this animated corpse was only her second cousin. Though the thought of having married that decrepit spawn of goblin dung never sat well with her.

To escape her ‘loving’ husband, Willow eventually fell into drinking: Elvin Wine, Dwarf Ale, Faunkin Brandy, even the feeble excuse of alcohol that was, Human Beer. For nearly a hundred years she drunk herself into a stupor. If it wasn’t for her daughter’s, she dare say she’d still be a drunkard.

After recovering from her addiction of the bottle, she escape that sentient trash heap of a living being, and became a scholar at the kingdom’s national library, one of the largest repository of knowledge in the know world.

Willow spent her time there delving into ancient knowledge, magic, and history of the world. Nearly two hundred years had passed since she had arrived there, and she had swiftly became a premier scholar, having read the majority of the library’s vast collection of tomes, history books, fine literature, and grimoires. And, thus becoming a wizard of great renown throughout the kingdom.

Willow had thought she would live a peaceful life studying her books for the rest of her life. But, all of that changed on the day that during her studies she stumbled upon the most curious sight: A human knight scoping about the library.

A curious sight to behold; human scholars were a rare, but not uncommon sight to be seen perusing about the vast elven libraries. But, a human knight in their library was something else entirely. So, she grew curious, Willow said she had developed an inquisitive side to her, no doubt due to all the books she read. So, with her curiosity peaked she decided to say hello to this human knight, and ask him why he was here.

Little did, Willow know that simply saying hello to this human lead her down a rabbit hole that seemingly had no end.

Who would believe that just by saying hello to a human knight named, Jaune Arc would result in her assisting him in his quest to slay a dragon, and to battling hordes of bandits, slavers, and all other of vile barbarians just to back a dragon-stone to her kingdom.

Nor, would it have lead them to discovering a vile, and treacherous secret plot being made by her, bastard son of a whore husband’s to overthrow the reigning monarchy in an attempt to take over the kingdom.

Who could have foreseen her shit flinger of a husband was merely being used by a cult that has used the dragon-stone they had acquired for an vile arcane ritual that was being used to summon a, Demon-Lord in an attempt to destroy the kingdom.

Willow, would never had thought she would wind up in a book in the very same library she stood over of as a member in a tale of hero’s who would fight along side, the Knight of the Rusted Order, Jaune Arc, and his companions to slay a, Demon-Lord, and save the entire kingdom.

Willow would have never had expected that after all the travels, and adventures that she would wake up in the arms of this young knight after the victory celebrations. And, considering how loveless her marriage was, and dull, and repulsive the times they spent in bed together, she could have never foreseen how enjoyable, and overwhelming pleasurable it was to sleep with a man she genuinely loved.

In all of, Willow’s life she had never expected to fall in love with a man, a human no less. Let alone marry a human knight that was a thousandth her age, and least of all bear several wonderful, beautiful children with him.

But, that just how life goes; unpredictable, but unforgettable, and wonderful nonetheless.

[ransprang]

thank you for the wait @auryborealis we hope you like your match up <3

if anyone else wants a personalized fic this is our ko-fi

your lotr match up is....

LEGOLAS!!!

SFW

How you met: You were wandering the forests of Mirkwood, attracted by the legends of elven magic surrounding the place. Your footsteps were featherlight, softer than the wind caressing the leaves under the twilight moon. You didn’t really think you would meet any elves but you were enjoying nature. Suddenly you realised you were being watched. You found yellow eyes staring at you. A grey wolf padded out of the darkness. You knelt before it, beckoning closer, strangely calmed by its presence. The wolf allowed you to ruffle its fur before jerking its head up when a masculine voice called out, “Humans aren’t meant to be here.” You turned to see Legolas, standing behind you. His weapons were still sheathed so you took it as a good sign. “It's beautiful here, isn't it? The legends hardly do it justice,” you spoke smilingly. Legolas turned his gaze toward the canopy above, his eyes alight with a spark of reverence. "Indeed, the magic of Mirkwood is as boundless as the stars in the night sky. Few mortals dare to tread these ancient paths," he replied. You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of kinship with the elf prince. You asked if you could visit the woods again, and Legolas agreed with some reluctance. He said the forest had deemed you worthy, and it would not be his place to deny you access. You returned the next night, after exchanging a few curt words with him. He wasn’t there that night, but he appeared the night after that. Like a mistrustful cat, he warmed up to you over time, and eventually fell for you.

Legolas appreciates your love of animals and nature. He grew up in forests, surrounded by wild animals and he likes how you aren’t scared of them.

Horror stories rarely faze Legolas but he likes how animated you get while telling them and listening to them. He would try to collect ghost stories from everyone in the fellowship to come and tell you. Gimli would have some good ones.

Legolas would love your sense of humor. He often enjoys some verbal repartee with his companions and he would like someone who can give as good as they get. He revels in every witty comeback or sarcastic remark you make. He even finds it amusing when you cuss out people who annoy you when they aren’t looking.

Legolas, like most elves, is a rampant bisexual and he would love your androgyny. Elves are androgynous creatures themselves so you would fit right in.

After you both fall in love, Legolas would be completely devoted to you since elves bond for life. His family would be against it given the fact that you are mortal and he is royalty but he is not the type of man to dismiss his feelings in fear of heartbreak.

When you both are among friends he likes to quietly listen alongside you with his enhanced hearing. He’ll whisper comments about the tea and gossip being spilt into your ear making you giggle. The group looks oddly at you both.

Legolas enjoys practicing his archery while you are nearby learning how to dual wield light-weight swords. He would see you practicing and ask to spar with you. You both would teach each other a few tips and tricks unique to your individual fighting styles.

Everyone in the fellowship is lowkey scared by the two of you considering how light on the feet you both are. You both have accidentally snuck up on all the hobbits and Gimli, giving them mini heart attacks. 

Legolas would love it when you sing. When you think you are alone and are humming, he would quietly come and sit beside you to listen, careful not to alert you to his presence.

N/SFW

Being an enjoyer of nature, Legolas likes to partake in walking and swimming with you. When you both approach a river to swim in he respectfully watches you shed your layers of clothing. He admires your curves and the light shining on your body. He joins you in being naked, already semi-hard and enjoys bathing with you. He hugs you from behind, letting his hands wander from your stomach to your breasts, tweaking your nipples. 

Legolas is quick to catch onto your people pleasing personality. He reminds you many times to not force yourself to do something for him unless you want to. You can reassure him by giving him head randomly, he’s always clean, don't worry ;)

When he goes down on you his hands go up your thighs as he slowly kisses the inner flesh. Legolas makes intense eye contact with you as he gets closer to your throbbing pussy hole. Tantalisingly he licks and sucks on your folds. He likes making you lose your cool and let out a slew of curses, so he takes his time to work you up.

It always starts with warm cuddles and spooning on a bedroll after the fellowship sleeps. Legolas loves being the big spoon, holding you close to him protectively, but the longer your hips push into his groin, the more heated he gets. He starts dry humping his hard cock against you, breathing heavily.

Legolas likes to keep his pace slow and steady, eventually catching speed. He almost loses control, and doesn't stop till he cums inside of you. He would always finish inside of you, just the thought of a creampie brings him closer to the edge.

He likes nipple play, flicking your breast and sucking on them while you straddle him and ride his cock. Also, when you lick his nipples while stroking his cock he gets so turned on. He never understood why, but he always felt comfortable sexually expressing himself in front of you.

If Legolas gets too close too soon, he likes to get edged. It's his little punishment for not being patient with you and losing control. He would moan and groan as you touch him, and would only allow himself to cum when  he thinks you're close too.

He moans words in Sindarin, and looks at you smiling observing your confused expression before leaning in for a kiss as he's thrusting in missionary position.

He would carry your naked form up in his arms bridal style and take you with him on the secluded balcony to watch the stars with him, while he holds you close to him.

Legolas likes to play with your fingers, entangling his with yours after sex. Laying there just staring into your deep brown eyes, realizing how much he loves you.

your night owls,

admins sar, san & sav

[evilkennedy]

How to Heal

Pairing: Halstarion (Halsin/Astarion BG3)

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Astarion hasn’t been able to feed the entire time he and the gang have been in the Underdark. Even vampire spawn have their limits.

Warnings: none! Just whumpy with some fluff

While Astarion hadn’t quite gotten used to being able to feed whenever he pleased, it was unsettling for his stomach to be aching just as it had beneath Cazador’s control. The man was sadistic in many ways, one of the many being his enjoyment in practically starving his spawn, Astarion included, only throwing them a plagued and half-dead rat every few tendays so that they wouldn’t decay prematurely. He enjoyed playing with them— manipulating their survival and toying with their very meager existences like a puppet master attached to a puppet’s strings. Despite being severed, Astarion felt that same hunger in the pit of his stomach now in the Underdark, just as they approached the shadow-cursed lands, another area in which he would not be able to feed. To say that the sensations were overwhelming and stirring up memories he’d like to pretend were easily forgotten— would be an understatement.

The group had been traveling for what felt like ages, Astarion whined and moaned about it for the first few hours, but the more they continued, the more unwell he’d begun to feel. The grumbling of his stomach had turned into a trembling in his bones, as well as an exhaustion that blanket his entire body. He felt heavy and light all at once, something he’d gotten used to feeling beneath Cazador’s thumb, but not so much now that he was expected to play his part in a team. He wouldn’t dare show an ounce of weakness lest they decide he wasn’t worth keeping around. He was merely a vampire spawn, after all, a liability and nowhere near as heroic as his tadpole infected companions. His worth was located somewhere between his slender fingers and beneath the hem of his trousers, and perhaps on a good day, in the blade of his dagger. Regardless, he kept marching forward, just as a soldier was expected to do, just as Shadowheart and Karlach set about doing feet before him. He’d fallen behind greatly, and hadn’t noticed the Druid’s worried hazel eyes trained on his body, though when the large elf decided to speak, it nearly scared the much smaller of the pair directly out of his skin.

“Astarion, are you feeling quite alright?” Halsin had managed to fall into step beside the pale elf at some point. He had half a mind to bite the man’s head off at the question, how dare he assume that Astarion was anything but? He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms indignantly before formulating an annoyed response.

“What makes you think that I am not? You nosey oaf.” He hissed, gritting his teeth as he pointedly marched onward. Though it was as if mentioning it had really made Astarion acknowledge just how horribly he had been feeling. He felt warm, uncomfortably so, and yet he was still chilled, practically shivering against the two combatant sensations taking over his frail body. Halsin gave him a look that said he didn’t believe a word of what he’d just said, and Astarion was going to let him have a piece of his mind about it, spat that he didn’t need the Druid’s pity, nor did he need his concern, but his tongue sat heavier in his mouth. He couldn’t will himself to speak as he swayed a bit, tingling making its way down his limbs for a particularly terrifying moment. He didn’t know if he was going to vomit or faint, but neither of the two sounded appetizing.

“Steady now, little star. Stop a moment, I am not trying to belittle you. I am merely concerned.” Astarion could barely feel the warmth of Halsin’s hand as it rested atop his shoulder, using very little effort to keep him from moving forward once again. The spawn couldn’t help but panic, this had undoubtedly brought the attention of the other’s by now, and he couldn’t even force a response between his lips to insist that he was fine. Instead, all he could do was heed the other’s words, stopping completely in place and glancing up into his eyes, blinking owlishly at him for a moment. He couldn’t even remember what he was fighting against as lead dropped into the pit of his stomach, and any blood that had been on his head had done the same. He swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth, ears ringing as he spoke, his face somehow going even paler as he forced the words out.

“I think I am going to faint.” With that, it were as though his consciousness was ripped directly from his body, his strings had been cut and his knees crumbled out from beneath him. He didn’t hit the ground, though. The last thing he remembered was a curse as two arms darted out to catch him and he was lowered unceremoniously to the ground beneath him.

-

The next time Astarion awoke, it was to the familiar scent of his tent. It took a moment for everything to come back to him, but when it did, he groaned aloud. He’d done the one thing he’d been fighting so hard not to do. Everyone would find him useless now. They would think that he was pathetic and powerless and they would have to put a stake through his heart to prove it, how easy it would be to take his immortal life. Though, he supposed they could have done so when he was unconscious. Small victories? Or perhaps they were sadists, worse than Cazador himself. He moved to sit up, head swimming as he did so, before he was forced right back down into the lying position by familiar hands. Crimson eyes met hazel one’s as he floundered, searching for any excuse to explain his display, but before he could come up with anything, Halsin was speaking.

“You mustn’t jostle yourself too much, you fainted.” He spoke gently, not in the scolding way that Astarion had been expecting.

“How long has it been since you last fed, Astarion?” While the question wasn’t accusatory, it certainly felt as though it was. Astarion’s ears tilted downward in an embarrassed frustration as he frowned.

“How long have we been in the Underdark?” He rebutted, spitting out the words as though they had been poison on his tongue… as though Halsin didn’t only have good intentions by asking. He only felt slightly guilty when the man frowned in earnest, eyebrows furrowing in concern as he put the pieces together quite easily.

“That is far too long to go without feeding. Forgive me for not seeing your predicament sooner. You did not have to let it become this dire. Should you need to feed, you need only ask.” The sincerity in his voice felt like thorny vines wrapping their way around Astarion’s throat as he blinked at Halsin as though he’d sprouted another head. He swallowed against the uneasy feeling, against the anxiety that told him he couldn’t trust this. He couldn’t offer his body in return in such a condition, so what was it that Halsin wanted? He blinked away unshed tears before squinting, quickly returning the mask that had briefly slipped.

“And what is it that you expect in return for your kindness?” Loathing dripped from his words like honey as he spoke, Halsin only sighed in return, as though he’d expected that sort of response from the spawn.

“The knowledge that my companion will not grow ill from his own neglect.” He spoke, and Astarion took pause, for once not knowing how to respond. He had no clever quip, nothing absolutely ghastly to say, he was just… empty. Was this what he’d missed out on for nearly two centuries? Stones settled once again in the pit of his stomach as his chest ached from something far less familiar than anxiety. He didn’t know that he wanted to place the feeling just yet, but he did know that he wanted to accept the Druid’s offer. Somehow he knew there were no falsehoods in what had been said. Halsin had been telling the truth. His face contorted into something much more melancholic than it had originally been, rather than bitter and angry, he turned into the victim of Cazador’s abuse in mere seconds, the curtain falling on his performance for once. He was glad that only Halsin was there to bear witness.

“Oh.” Astarion breathed lamely, digging his claws into the flesh of one of his palms as he forced himself to remain in the moment, giving Halsin the smallest of nods as he returned to himself.

“I would like that.” Unbeknownst to him, that would be the first of many times he got to indulge in the Druid’s blood, the nectar providing life for just a while longer— and the key to breaking his shackles forevermore.

[dreadfutures]

Tevinter Nights: dramatic summaries

Back in March I decided to read a story from Tevinter Nights out loud to the DA FanFic server every Monday night. I figured with the number of stories, we'd hit August right as we finished - hopefully it'll be a big month for us fans!

I just love this anthology so much - there are many gems and entertaining bits among them, and they're criminally underrated. A lot of the DA side content is hit or miss for a lot of people, but seriously, some of these short stories could be published on their own without any knowledge of Thedas and still entertain!!

Here are the summaries I wrote ahead of each reading. :) All of the TN short stories are independent of each other, so take a look and perhaps you will find one you enjoy. I tried to keep them largely spoiler free :)

Also, check out @larkoneironaut 's Tevinter Nights art project! They're enjoyable in their own way :)

Three Trees to Midnight, by Patrick Weekes

After the Qunari take Ventus, prisoners are put to work chopping wood on the outskirts of Arlathan Forest. Myrion, a human mage, and Strife, a city elf who joined the Dalish, are shackled together at the ankle as a work pair. While their relationship starts antagonistic, they are quickly forced to work together to escape. This thrilling adventure is one of our first looks into the mysteries of Arlathan Forest, and the Antaam’s advance south—despite the rifts forming in the Qun’s ranks. Notably, Strife and his companion Irelin appear in another short story, Ruins of Reality, and Dragon Age: The Missing.

Down Among the Dead Men by Sylvia Feketekuty

We finally see Nevarra in this tale, and what better place to start than in the Grand Necropolis itself? Audric Felhausen, our POV character, is a city guard who is tasked with protecting a Mortalitasi mage during an investigation about some restless undead in the bowels of the Necropolis. We see how spirits and demons wander, and get stuck, in the bodies kept there -- and how possessing a body, even a long-dead one, can have significant effects on the spirit. On both a cultural and metaphysical level, this story gives us a TON of lore. And Audric, our hero, is equally curious and unsettled by what he learns. By the end you'll see why so many people are desperate for him to be a companion in DA4!

The Horror of Hormak by John Epler

Do you love Wardens? Do you miss the dark fantasy elements of Origins? Do you like the aesthetic of Dark Souls, with giant stone doors you push open with all your might to reveal a giant boss? That's the vibe that John Epler (DA4 Creative Director!) brings to this story. Wardens Ramesh and Lesha are tracking down a group of missing Wardens in Nevarra--a group, it turns out, that does not want to be found. For better or worse, Ramesh and Lesha plunge into the darkness and discover a horrifying truth with massive implications for the ancient history of Thedas... and the Evil Gods about to wake in DA4!

Callback by Lukas Kristjanson

Follow Sutherland and his crew of honorable adventurers back to where they began: Skyhold. Now defended and empty but for a handful of Chantry chosen caretakers, the fortress that once housed the Inquisition has gone dark, and Sutherland is tapped to investigate. We see Skyhold and by proxy the Inquisition itself from the perspective of one of the little guys, drawn to it because of ideals and encouraged to become their best selves. In doing so, we also see how the events of this world can shape Spirits in unexpected ways, with consequences for a world where the Veil is thin. Callback is full of callbacks and cameos from a surprising group from DAI, and an entertaining and perilous mini adventure in its own right. This is a love letter to Skyhold, to the Inquisition, and a meaningful counterpart to the memories of Skyhold kept in its frescos.

Luck in the Gardens by Sylvia Feketekuty

Hear a tale of glory and daring straight from a Lord of Fortune themself! A genderfluid, disguise-wearing, acrobat-turned-swashbuckler regales us with an adventure from the streets of Minrathous. Spy on secret meetings between Magisters, learn what the Venatori have been doing since Corypheus' defeat, and tremble in the face of things "past the Veil of our world," neither demon nor spirit. Who are the Lords of Fortune from Rivain? What lurks beneath Tevinter's streets? This may be the story that inspired many people's wishlist for the next Archon and the next Black Divine -- some beloved, familiar faces join our hero to face the terror in the gardens!

Content Warning: Body horror, Eldritch horror, mentions of Tevinter slavery

Hunger by Brianne Battye

Tevinter Nights returns to Warden business in Hunger -- or does it? Evka Ivo, a heroic warden, and her junior recruit Antoine, have to decide what counts as Warden business when there's not a Blight ongoing. As they make their way to Weisshaupt to answer their summons, they decide to make a small detour to help a village in need. Evka and Antoine are our beloved dwarf/elf romantics who feature in a DA Day short story - as well as in the DA4 lead-in comic, The Missing! Whether they may be companions or contacts to our protagonist remains to be seen, but surely they'll make an appearance after such tales of heroism and compassion!

Murder by Death Mages by Caitlin Sullivan Kelly

We return again to Nevarra from a different angle this time! An agent of the Inquisition, the multiplayer necromancer Sidony, is sent back to the home country she resents in pursuit of a killer. We learn not only about Sidony's past, but about the political landscape of Nevarra: do the Mortalitasi run the country as shadowy puppet masters? What do the common people, and the nobility, think of the death mages from the Necropolis? How are Mortalitasi trained? And what does necromancy look and feel like to the characters in Thedas? In this tale of alleyway chases and gossip-filled balls, we get another glimpse into a country we may very well visit in DA4!

The Streets of Minrathous by Brianne Battye

We return to Minrathous to learn what's become of the Venatori since Corypheus's defeat. Join Neve Gallus, special investigator (and important cameo in The Missing comic), as she navigates the alleyways of Tevinter's great city in search of a murderer. Through her eyes, we see how less-privileged mages are viewed, and how the law bends to the whims of the rich and magical in Tevinter. Neve is joined by Tevinter Templars in her investigation, and their final battle is certainly eye-opening for anyone interested in fighting mages... What lies beneath the Streets of Minrathous, if not the Cekorax? Well, you're about to find out.

The Wigmaker Job by Courtney Woods

Lucanis Dellamorte, Master Assassin (and rumored heir to the First Talon) of the Antivan Crows, prowls the secret passages and unsuspecting rooftops of Tevinter with his cousin Illario on a contract. The target? A member of the Venatori with a... peculiar hobby. From shady hotel rooms to a grand gala and fashion show, get a look at the best of the Crows doing what Crows do best. This is one of the best stories in Tevinter Nights by far.

Content Warnings: abuse of slaves, body horror, torture, gore, hair eating, lots of pretty gruesome (if cathartic) assasination, and possession

Genitivi Dies In The End by Lucas Kristjanson

The remnants of the Inquisition approach a new group of adventurers and task them with finding the secrets of Fen'Harel. The Antaam - or at least, part of it - give chase. And Genitivi Dies in the End.

Herold Had the Plan by Ryan Cormier

Our Lords of Fortune are on the run as a mission to steal an ancient amulet goes awry. They have the amulet, they have their daring escape (a Lord of Fortune knows no other kind, of course) -- but Herold had the plan for what to do with the damn thing, and Herold is gone. As Starkhaven guards give chase, only one Lord of Fortune will survive the night. But will he make it to the mysterious Squire who hired them in the first place? Join us for an adventure that will break your heart and keep you on the edge of your seat.

An Old Crow's Old Tricks by Arone Le Bray

Tevinter has sent their finest centuri to defend the shores of the Nocen Sea from potential Qunari invaders. They stake their claim on the area and set up camp, enjoying the esteem of being the proud defenders of Tevinter. But it's not the Qunari this group of soldiers should fear.

CW: blatant racism against dalish, off screen massacre of a Dalish clan, many gruesome cathartic assassinations described in some detail, hand trauma

Eight Little Talons by Courtney Woods

Antiva's crown is weak. Antiva has no army. And the Qun is at its doorstep. Antiva's Crows may be the country's only defense, but they must act fast. Caterina Dellamorte, the fearsome leader of the Crows, calls all Eight Talons to meet in secret and solitude to discuss and prepare for the threat at Antiva's borders. But perhaps they should begin by looking for threats at home. All Crows are assassins. But only one is a murderer.

Half Up Front by John Epler

A former altus who chose to be disowned into poverty to be with her elven lover takes the job of a lifetime: steal a precious, powerful, magical artifact from the Archon's Palace itself. It was never going to be easy, but the former Altus Vadis couldn't have predicted that a Minrathous heist would bring her all the way to a port in Rivain, loyal to the Qun. What at first glance seems like a classic cat burgling caper actually might tell us a lot about the forces at play in Thedas—how perhaps the people on the ground may or may not be following orders.

Dread Wolf Take You by Trick Weekes

[izzytown]

back by popular demand, i have yet another strange LOTR headcanon post. i present to you all, a sequel to “the fellowship reacts to kombucha,” titled: “the fellowship’s starbucks orders.”

for context, just started my job as a starbucks barista about three months ago, and trying to figure out what drinks the fellowship would order has been at the forefront of my mind. i will be providing their opinion on coffee and then their starbucks order.

aragorn: this bitch thrives off of black coffee, how else is he supposed to rule the kingdom of gondor?? he’s a dunedain, so while he probably limits his caffeine intake for health reasons, he definitely is the type to go into Starbucks and order a dark roast, black. and if there’s no dark roast brewed atm, then a hot americano.

legolas: this man. this pretentious-ass elf, oh my god. no coffee for this woodland elf, although he seems like the type—he’s a tea-drinker, let’s be real. and although i think his soul would give out if he even dared to walk inside a starbucks, he would be the type to order a “medicine ball” unironically.

gimli: obviously gimli is a coffee drinker, have we seen him?? he’s a coffee enjoyer, but not a snob—wherever he can get a cup, he’ll get some coffee, whether it be a local shop or a stbux. he’s definitely more drawn towards darker roasts, and i have an unexplainable feeling that gimli orders a venti cappuccino, extra dry, with an extra shot. he brings legolas with him, who rolls his eyes when gimli orders. hipster blonde tea drinker forced to go with his gruff coffee drinker boyfriend. they’re in love your honor

gandalf: gandalf has to take care of four hobbits, an elf, a dwarf, and two men—all of which are temperamental and argue NONSTOP. his caffeine intake is unlike anything anyone has seen. coffee is not about the taste for him, therefore he has no specific “order.” if he needs a quad americano, he’ll get one. if he just needs a pike, he’ll get a pike. he has no shame. he has become a notable regular simply from the one time he ordered a ten shot latte—he also tips a LOT. he is adored by all the baristas, and they’re also probably scared of him

boromir: he likes coffee, but he just kinda drinks whatever is available to him. he doesn’t have a caffeine addiction, but every daily starbucks run brings him closer to getting one. i feel like boromir is that guy who gets a salted caramel cream cold brew, or a red-eye. no in between. he probably gets an irish cream cold brew during the holidays.

frodo: frodo…doesn’t love coffee. correction, book frodo LIVES off of coffee, but I think for movie frodo, coffee isn’t his favorite thing. he probably gets dragged to starbucks with merry and pippin once, and doesn’t know what to order, so he just goes for a hot chai tea latte. this starts an addiction, especially once he realizes that starbucks is a nice place to read and study. he’s always polite to the baristas and makes sure to tip extra, if he can spare it

sam: bless his little gardener heart, he cannot afford starbucks. he definitely has a morning cup of coffee with cream to fuel his caffeine deficiency. if he joins frodo to hang, or is dragged along with the other hobbits, he’ll get just that. plain coffee with a splash of cream, nothing fancy for him. he also tips extra, and if frodo’s drink is made incorrectly, he huffs and puffs and politely asks the baristas to remake it. frodo insists they charge him, but sam and the baristas fight against this.

merry: oh merry…(movie) merry likes to believe he enjoys coffee, but realizes very quickly that he only likes it when it’s covered up by the flavor of pure sugar. he cycles through quite a few regular drinks at starbucks, some of which include the mocha cookie crumble frappuccino, an iced white mocha with sweet cream cold foam and caramel drizzle, or maybe a hazelnut latte with two extra pumps (to cover up the bitter coffee, obviously).

pippin: pippin does not like coffee. period. does he have a caffeine addiction? yeah, but his sugar addiction is probably worse. like merry, he has a handful of go-to drinks, depending on the weather, the day, his mood, etc. any of the creme based fraps, especially vanilla bean and strawberry, tickle his fancy. he also gets a strawberry acai lemonade with no inclusions (chunks don’t sit well with him), or occasionally a blended strawberry lemonade. he also buys an entire backpack full of pastries every time he goes, so he has a snack for the road, for home, for dinner, for dessert, for—

[yandere-fics]

Mafia Princess Bullying Miriel

(I stole the champagne idea from another yandere fic I'm so sorry, it just lives rent free in my mind 24/7)

You hated her. That stupid elf girl sitting opposite you. Her stupid squeaky voice, her annoying little giggle. You just wanted to punch her in the nose, in fact you'd wanted to punch her in the nose since you were kids. Whenever your father would bring you along to a big event, she would be there, clinging to her parents like a baby bird refusing to leave the nest. You'd only ever spoken to her when you had to, and yet here you were, in some shitty private restaurant on some shitty fake date, all with the purpose of "settling tensions" between your families. If your dad wanted things to be more chummy with her parents he could have gone himself. But no, he makes you sit opposite this dumb whiny girl for three hours, so your bodyguards can gush about how wonderfully behaved you were, guaranteeing peace between the two families for another generation. Idiots.

"This restaurant is really lovely, isn't it? The view of the city is wonderful..." Miriel spoke, smiling as she stared into the vast, endless city. Gods she pissed you off, trying to play nice and make conversation. What a bitch.

"This restaurant sucks."

"O-oh"

"$800 for a steak?? What am I, poor??? It's like they're insulting me. Obviously you don't feel insulted, you with your bowl of lettuce. I bet you'd eat grass off the ground and call it a 5 star meal." You teased, grinning as she meekly looked away. 'Oh come onnnn' you thought 'she doesn't even fight back'. You clicked your fingers, gaining the attention of your bodyguard Kassien

"Hey, Kassy, get us some of that champagne they boast about on the menu. It must be good if they're charging that much for it."

"As you wish." She responded, wandering off towards the public section of the restaurant.

"Oh um. I don't actually drink champagne-" Miriel stuttered

"Wow, that's crazy. I don't care." You snapped back, her lip quivered in response, oh she was fun. Maybe you'd get some enjoyment out of tonight after all.

Kassien returned with the bottle of champagne, it had some stupid french name on the label, it didn't matter. You shooed her away and turned back to face your "date", who was shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"Pour this for me." You demanded, holding your glass in front of yourself

"Huh?"

"Huh?? What, can't hear through those pointy ears? Pour my drink. Or I'll put a hit out on you the moment I'm queen."

Her eyes widened, a shiver running up her spine

"Why would you say that???" She cried

"I like watching you squirm. It's my entertainment for the night. Now pour my drink, bitch." You coaxed, she bowed her head in shame and obliged, carefully pulling the cork from the bottle and preparing to pour it into your glass.

'She's so pathetic. She didn't even try to tell me no. I can just walk all over her like she's nothing.' You thought to yourself, staring as she oh so carefully poured, her hands shaking with fear.

BANG

You slammed your knee against the table, causing Miriel to jump at the sudden noise, pouring champagne all over your lap

"I'M SORRY!! OH MY GODS I'M SO SORRY!!" she cried, tears starting to well in her eyes

"What the fuck??? Damn bitch you can't even pour champagne right?! Were you dropped as a baby??" You teased, she panicked and grabbed a handful of napkins to wipe you down

"What do you think you're doing??? This champagne is one of a kind. Half a glass probably costs more than your ransom. Don't you dare waste it. Get on your knees, and drink it out of my dress." You hissed, her eyes widened, her knees were shaking, you could feel your bodyguard's peering into the room, you simply gave a thumbs up in response.

"Well? Are you just gonna stand there or what?"

"O-okay" she whimpered, getting under the table and pressing her lips to your dress, sucking the champagne out of the fabric. You grinned, sipping champagne from your glass as you watched her little face go red with embarassment. She looked like she was going to cry! It turned you on way too much. This dumb little baby was meant to be the heir to the second most feared crime family in the city, and here she was getting tipsy between your legs.

"Is... is that it...?" She asked, you shook your head in response, pulling your dress up to reveal your panties.

"You took so long it seeped through the dress."

"R...really?"

You offered her only a death stare in response, she whimpered and got back to work. Fuck it felt good. She sucked and lapped up every last drop that'd soaked in, you grinned and teasingly pressed your foot to her crotch.

"Oh my gods. I KNEW IT! THIS TURNS YOU ON!" you laughed, cackling as she scurried out from under the table, tears flowing down her bright red face.

"I-I-I- I didn't..." she stuttered, the girl looked like she was about to short circuit.

"Don't lie to me. I could feel it. Show me."

"W-what?!?!?"

"Lift up your dress, pull your panties down, and show me." You grinned as she did exactly that, lifting her long black dress up to reveal her pretty little dick, twitching and begging for attention. It was adorable.

"Alright, strip and sit on the table." You commanded, she looked over to her bodyguard, who only lowered his gaze in response. She followed orders, stripping nude and sitting on the table, she looked nervous enough to explode.

"You really just let me order you around huh? I don't know how you walk around, since you clearly don't have a spine." You teased, kneeling down in front of her, holding her dick in your hands, admiring the way it twitched and convulsed at your touch.

You lowered your mouth onto her, she moaned loudly in response, you had barely even started and she was damn near screaming. You took all of her into your mouth, running your tongue along her shaft as you bobbed your head up and down, finding the perfect spot that made her squeal just right. The spot that made her legs shake and her hips buck. The spot that had her chewing on her own hand to stifle her moans.

"I-I-" she whimpered, her dick throbbed in your mouth, signalling that you were done here. Her dick left your mouth with a pop as you stared at her blushing, messy face. She whined as you stopped touching her, poor girl looked like she was going to die.

"Say thank you."

"Wh-what?"

"Say 'thank you for not letting me cum'"

"Th...thank you for not letting me cum"

"Good girl. Now get off the table. My knees hurt." She obliged, leaping off the table and allowing you to take a seat right on the edge, spreading your legs for her and pulling your panties aside, flashing your glistening pussy for her to see.

"Well? Put it in. Before I change my mind."

"I... I'm too short" she whined, the table just too high off the ground

"Stand on your tip toes. Don't be lazy"

"O-okay" she squeaked, standing right on her tippy toes as she pushed herself inside. She slipped right in, causing her to gasp loudly

"You're so warm~" she hummed

"I know" you responded, grinning as she began fucking you. You held her close, your arms wrapped around her, playing with her hair as she moaned and whined into you.

"Faster" you commanded, and so she obliged, her thrusts becoming quick and rhythmic, until suddenly they started to slow

"Hey, I said faster."

"I... I can't..." she whined

"Why not?"

"If I go any faster I..."

"You'll cum? I don't care. I said faster, either you go faster or you stop entirely but don't you dare cum."

You only got a whine in response, she picked back up the pace, you felt her throbbing inside of you, she was so fucking cute

"I... I'm gonna-"

"Don't you dare."

"Please!!!"

"Don't you DARE stop, and don't you DARE cum."

"I can't keep going!!! I can't!!!!!!" She cried, her thrusts becoming irregular, like she was fighting her own body.

"Then cum. Nice and deep." You grinned, finally letting her release. She moaned so loudly as she came, she felt like her heart hadn't been beating for hours, like she hadn't taken a breath since she got here. As she released herself, you held her, feeling the tears run down her face onto your arm as you softly ran your fingers through her hair.

"I'm sorryyyy" she whined, you shushed her in response, softly humming to her

"It's okay. It's okay sweet girl. Such a sweet girl. You gave me just what I wanted. I'll tell me dad we get along swimmingly" you smiled and kissed her on the cheek, she shivered in resonse

"I'll see you next week"

-girlfailure (I really enjoyed making this)

i feel so bad for my baby girl, too bad she also enjoyed it.

[blackmagecat]

Chapters: 9/?

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Rahadin/OC

Summary:

The chamberlain of Castle Ravenloft is charged with visiting the Abbey of Saint Markovia to observe the Abbot’s experiments. There, a cleric of the Morninglord endures a crisis of faith.

----

"It is my duty to inform you that His Lordship no longer requires your presence at court."

What a blessed, splendid sight, Rahadin thought. The princess’s face, typically the very picture of pompous invincibility, shattered before him from the force of the betrayal. Every slight he had ever endured from her - about his breeding, his upbringing - was vindicated at last. Rahadin doubted he would ever again know such satisfaction.

Patrina Velikovna turned from the stained glass window in Castle Ravenloft's audience hall to face him fully. She had the look of an expensive ornament, dressed in the finest silks and adorned in heavy jewels that all but obscured her neck and collarbone. Each piece had been a gift from Strahd, and lately she'd taken to displaying them as prominently as possible.

The late morning sun spilled extra color onto her smooth brown skin through the painted window panes. Patrina was a lithe, elegant figure, the pinnacle of Elven nobility with thick hair that was as dark and as rich as soil and the high, sharp cheekbones that distinguished their kind from all the other races. Rahadin might have thought her resplendent if he did not already despise her.

"Don't do this," Patrina warned. "You do not want to make an enemy of me, Rahadin."

He sneered contemptuously at her. "Do not pin your lost favor upon me, Your Highness. Your line is diminished. Any credible threat that your family could have represented died the moment Lord Strahd reclaimed these lands."

Patrina Velikovna's delicate lip curled in anger, but her voice was dreadfully calm. Around them the attendants waited. She would not lose her noble composure so easily.

"Strahd loves me. You have never accepted that because you are too deep in your own resentment of the past. It is obvious that you have poisoned him against me."

"Would that I could," Rahadin retorted, "but Lord Strahd's mind has ever been his own. Even the knowledge of House Velikov's betrayals was not enough to diminish his affection for you, I admit. But there are new horizons now, and he does not envision you among them."

Patrina's dark eyes hardened into a bitter glare. "New horizons. You don't mean that red-haired peasant, do you? You always were the gullible prat. Strahd does not truly want her. He is simply envious of Sergei. Even you must see that!"

"If that is what will help you trance at night," Rahadin taunted. Truthfully, he did not really care to know about the extent of Strahd's affection for Tatyana Federovna. Rahadin was simply happy to relish in Patrina feeling threatened by the young woman's presence.

"I still have my instructions. You are to be returned to your brother at the dusk elf settlement in Vallaki at once."

Patrina gritted her perfectly white teeth. "I am not some package to be shipped to and fro at anyone's leisure, you traitorous dog! Where is Strahd? I refuse to believe he would be so cowardly as not to tell me these things himself!"

"He is on a survey expedition with Commander Gwilym at Mount Ghakis and sincerely regrets being unavailable to relay the message personally."

"Expedition! What an insult!" Patrina's nostrils flared and her heavy earrings jingled from the force of her barely contained rage. "I was the one who told him of the temple to begin with! How dare he go there without me!"

Rahadin experienced unique enjoyment in being able to deny her further. "It is a perilous journey, Your Highness. His Lordship only had your safety in mind..."

"Safety?!" She scoffed loudly. "The nerve of him! I am an archmage!"

Rahadin continued as if not having heard her. "...and with Master Sergei's wedding taking place soon, Lord Strahd does not wish for the strife that has been brewing between you to cast a cloud over the festivities. A display of your personal jealousies would be unseemly, you see."

“Unseemly.” The dusk elf princess let out haughty, staccato laughter. A signature of hers. "Oh, Rahadin. How disappointing."

He raised an eyebrow in questioning.

"You could have had it all — even me, if that was your wish. Instead you chose to place your leash directly into Barov von Zarovich's palm. And for what? To play butler to his spoiled children? What a disgrace you are to our kind."

"It is you who has disgraced us," Rahadin spat, dropping all pretense. "Your family's dishonorable betrayals are a stain on our people's entire legacy! I would be prouder on my knees, licking the filth from this castle's privies than to ever be tied to you! It is a blessing that my brother finally feels the same way."

By now the attendants and servants began to scurry away, fearful of being caught in the verbal crossfire. Rahadin saw that two lingered near the grand staircase, purposefully eavesdropping. He looked forward to interrogating them in the dungeons.

"Would you like to know at last the reason why it is you and your men were banished, Lord Chamberlain?" Patrina studied her manicured fingernails, casting feigned boredom above her simmering anger. "I may as well tell you, since this will apparently be the last time you see me in Castle Ravenloft."

Rahadin could see the prompt for the blatant trap that it was. "This has already been well-litigated. And House Velikov paid dearly for betraying the alliance against the Tergs. Whatever your family hoped to gain from those petty machinations matters little now."

Patrina tilted her head back and let out a peal of haughty laughter that echoed shrilly across the cavernous audience hall.

"Oh, my sweet little fool. You really have no idea, do you? It is not what we had to gain that I speak of. It is what you chose to discard when you defied our House and your orders."

Rahadin glared at her. "I know it well enough. Do you think it was a simple matter for me to leave our people behind?"

"Yes, because you have a small and simple mind," she insulted. "You weren't preserving anyone's honor that day, Rahadin, not even your own. All you managed to do was set fire to the future."

Rahadin felt his fingers twitch where they rested over his bare abdomen. The surroundings of Castle Ravenloft wavered, and the canvas walls of the Vistani tent reappeared, merged confusingly with the stone masonry of his memory.

Ravenia Van Roeyen was at his ear, her whispers haunting him. "What have we left behind for our children?"

Completed Chapter on AO3

[scrapsovereign]

The Long Way Down - Chapter 12

Link to work on AO3:

Summary:

Tav and Gale share a vision with the tadpole get to know each other better. Astarion almost takes Tav for a bite to eat until they're interrupted by a mysterious stranger. Trigger Warning for this chapter: Vague hint of child abuse/CSA

(NSFW for a paragraph or two, Astarion x Gale x Tav being stupid, 5.8k-ish words)

“You’re sure she’ll like this?”

“Gale. My friend. Trust me. Tav might be…a lot, but her tastes are fairly basic.”

If Tav hadn’t stirred from the racket Gale was making preparing breakfast and started eavesdropping at the mention of her name, she would groan and argue against his accusation. Wyll has a lot of nerve, calling her “a lot”. The Blade of the Frontiers has his own unique baggage, and her name is Miz-

“A counterpoint to your descriptor of basic- what shame is there in enjoyment of elevated staples? I bet you the choice of any magical item in your possession that I could conjure fare that rivals the finest tables you’ve ever dined from.”

“Let me think on that before I accept. But, to address your concerns, don’t underestimate yourself. If your culinary talents match your vocabulary, it’s smooth sailing from here. You see, when it comes to Tav, a lot of people get it wrong if they try to court her like a lady.”

Wait, what ?

Is Gale…trying to…seduce her? With food? At Wyll’s suggestion?

The traitor. How dare he give him accurate advice.

But why is he asking in the first place? She thought Gale and Astarion were interested in each other after what happened between them last night…

“She's a lot like a man. The way to her heart is through her stomach.”

Tav is about to complain to Wyll out loud with a “I heard that!” when her brain short circuits at the heavenly scent floating over her like a dream, something primal awakening in her.

Appearing suddenly in between them, she loudly sniffs a long, singular inhale of what Gale’s managed to concoct for breakfast. 

Sweet rolls. Crispy bacon. Eggs.

Coffee, brewed using a canter with a press mechanism she’s so fond of- with a bit of fresh cream. 

“Wyll, pinch me. I need to know I haven’t died and gone up to the great campground in the sky,” her mouth and eyes water at the sight before her. Have the Gods smiled upon them this day?

He obliges with a shrug, choosing a spot he knows she hates- the back of her upper arm.

“Ouch! Every time you do that, I regret teaching it to you. Gale, did you…did you really make all this?”

He gives her his most handsome, roguish smirk and opens his mouth to reply-

“That’s really sweet of you to do all this for Astarion, but I don’t think he’d appreciate it. He’s on that carnivore diet that’s all the rage with the Patriars in the B-Geezy. Where is he anyways?” She inquires, looking around the camp for the other elf like a lost puppy looking for its master.

“Tav, there’s so much wrong with what you just said, but let’s address the most important thing. Nobody calls Baldur’s Gate that, it’s either ‘THE Gate’ or ‘THE City’,” Wyll groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Tav scoffs at his criticism of her clever nickname and thinks she might see how much she can get him to repeat the motion over the next tenday, just to spite him.

“I disagree on the priority of corrections needed. It’ll be a balmy midsummer’s eve in Cania before I go out of my way to do anything ‘sweet’ for that villain and his libertine manipulations- especially after his unnecessarily lubricious display of dominance last night,” Gale spits out with a scowl. 

His jaw twitches, looking as if he is ready to begin unleashing a new round of poisoned words. Tav’s pointed ears fall flat at the prospect of his ranting continuing on. She notices his expression soften in response. 

“Ah, forgive me- I seem to have overburdened you with my troubles. Please, eat- Wyll tells me this is a favorite of yours and- Shadowheart ! Where do you think you’re going with that decanter of coffee? That’s for everyone to share!”

Shadowheart, terribly hungover but freshly cleaned up and dressed for the day, rolls her eyes at Gale’s admonishment.

“Must I? Any amount of coffee is a personal sized cup if you try hard enough and believe in yourself.”

“These are Luskan-roasted beans, you might want to start small and then have a- oh, okay,” Wyll’s attempt to gently explain the powerful caffeine content is met with an aggressive stare down from Shadowheart as she pours herself a rather large amount in her cup and sips from it.

Tav almost wonders aloud if there’s anything to the saying that people like their coffee like their lovers.

She keeps her mouth shut, realizing with a rosy flush she always liked hers with a bit of a bite.

==============================

Lae’zel returns first to camp, freshly cleaned and ready to venture forth. Astarion is fashionably late and in a bit of a foul mood, doing his best to disguise it with a confident smirk. Wyll announces he’s going to be tagging along to aid them, deeming his company necessary to give them the help they’re going to need.

Tav’s camp meeting goes rather smoothly, aside from the brief interruption from Wyll and Gale when she discusses party roles, accusing her of copying Acquisitions Incorporated’s style of party management. Astarion’s eyes light up with interest seeing Tav mad as hell over it- what an interesting sore spot to have! He giggles in delight when she turns it back around and asks them if they’re the Sword Coast Adventuring copyright police. After all, that wretched Omin Dran stole the system her family’s business came up with and capitalized on it for his own gain. Tav isn’t the only one who has that button to push, she sends Gale reeling and sputtering with disbelief at her admission of how she’d heard of Jim Darkmagic the Third of Acq. Inc. but never Gale Dekarios, Mystra’s Chosen, Archmage of Waterdeep. 

It is Lae’zel that redirects them to the matter of the goblin camp, and if they should be of assistance to the refugees and the grove or (her preferred option) be on their way. They hold a vote- Tav, Gale, and Wyll choosing to deal with the goblin threat, Shadowheart and Lae’zel choosing to leave them to deal with the threat themselves. 

Astarion is the last holdout, mulling over his options. While he’s relishing in everyone’s discomfort over taking so much time to make his decision, he’s also savoring the simple fact that he has any say at all. Aiding the Grove is a fool’s errand, but he’s not in any hurry to get the tadpole plucked from his skull at the crèche. The parasite has granted him freedom- something he had lost hope of tasting ever again. 

He votes to aid the Grove and is rewarded with a bright smile from Tav that squeezes his dead heart. A strange sensation indeed- must be the fat content of the boar’s blood he sampled last night. 

Tav takes Astarion and Gale with her to make a supply run, much to Gale’s dismay. The merchant in camp has run out of tents (and many other things, so he claims), and only has various bolts of colored canvas left. Gale pipes up with a “Well, actually, according to my calculations”, disagreeing with Astarion about the yardage needed. The two men bicker with each other while Tav drains the party’s pooled gold, ensuring their comfort for the many days ahead. 

She purchases an additional sewing kit and a length of fine linen cloth, tucking it away in her pack before Astarion sees her do so. 

Tav and Wyll locate a well-hidden spot near a large tributary that feeds the broad expanse of the Chionthar to establish base camp. Gale begins the process of setting up wards alongside Tav while she helps him locate the spot to place them. She spots a boar with two puncture marks, the hot afternoon already starting to bloat the corpse and decompose it. While Gale is suspicious they have a vampire lurking about the woods, Tav is more upset that a perfectly good pork shoulder went to waste.

“That right there is more useless than tits on a boar hog,” Tav sighs out, looking down at the exsanguinated boar. If not for the vampiric toxins that went to its muscles and nervous system it would have made a fine meal. 

Gale doesn’t understand the reference. 

Tav doesn’t explain.

He does, however, take the opportunity while he is alone with her to confide in her about this ex. 

She has to stop him at several points to clarify a few things- she was his teacher then he was her chosen then his…lover? And he was chosen at 17, but then she died and was resurrected by the one and only Archmage Elminster while he was in his 20’s, and that’s the part where they became lovers? 

Oh, and by the way, she’s the goddess of Magic. 

Tav feels dizzy all of a sudden from the influx of information. She plops herself down in a very un-ladylike fashion on a tree root peeking through the forest floor at the edge of camp. 

“So… what happened between you two?”

Gale takes a knee next to her, scooping up Tav’s dirt-stained, rough hands in his. 

“I was a fool. I wasn’t satisfied with just sharing a bed with her. I should have been, but I desired more. The siren call of the forbidden mysteries of the weave bewitched me- it was maddening to be brought to the precipice and gaze out at the wonders beyond every time I was with her,” he has a sort of sad half-smile as he recounts his tale to her, tracing the veins on the back of her hands absent-mindedly with his thumbs.

“This is where my folly comes into play. Shall I spare you the history lesson and get straight to its sordid finale?” 

“I’m willing to listen to whatever you’re willing to tell,” she searches his lovelorn brown eyes sparkling with tears and he grips her hands tighter in acknowledgement. 

“Once upon a time, a very long time ago, a mighty lord who ruled over the land of Netheril-”

“Karsus- isn’t he the asshole who broke magic the first time and now magic users can’t cast anything past a certain threshold?” Tav blurts out in a single breath, unblinking. 

“Why, actually, yes,” Gale stutters, feeling a flush creep up his neck. “I must admit, it’s a delightful surprise to discover you are already apprised of this knowledge,” he murmurs at her demurely, the timbre of his voice becoming a bit husky. 

Tav shifts uncomfortably- does Gale know she’s a fraud? That she only knows about this event in history because “Dark Weave, Darker Desires: Nether’ill Fall In Love Again” is one of her most-read books in her personal collection of filth?

She feels a heat creep over her and settle between her legs as he presses her palms to the tattoo on his chest. She watches in fascination as it glows underneath her hands, activated by her touch.

“In my hubris, I sought to return a part of the weave to Mystra. I obtained a tome that held a fractured part of the weave, determined to return this lost part of herself to her- it might be best to show you what happened next. May I?” 

A dull headache radiates from the back of her skull. She relaxes, closes her eyes, and lets Gale take control.

Seeing through Gale’s eyes, she feels his emotions of dread settle in her stomach while recalling the memory of a book that had been bound, now suddenly open. The book is a trap- containing no pages but a terrifying black orb, a vacuum in space that leaps towards his chest. A voice cries aloud at the excruciating pain as it claws its way to take hold in him, embedding itself in the complex fibers of his very existence. 

Once it settles, she feels a hunger with her very soul, gnawing away at her, only temporarily satiated by feeding it items that contain pure elements of the weave… 

She knows hunger, and it breaks her heart. 

It holds on, but the vision changes- it is nighttime, an alleyway off city streets. A group of men whose faces are cast in shadow loom above, their hands offering coin at first but then touch and grope, push and pull, moving lower and lower still- 

The vision shifts again, hands embrace her while she sleeps between Astarion and Gale, her heart so full, feeling so safe and comfortable… 

Gale’s hands that trace up her muscled arm, the curiosity washing over her of how his lips would feel against hers… 

It is evening now, and cool lips puff honeyed promises into his ears, confused by his arousal so soon after the exchange of their cutting words. The feeling of uncertainty hangs heavy over him while he considers if he wants this, but damn it all to hell if he doesn’t enjoy the attention after being so lonely for so long. He submits unwittingly to the seductions of the man above him, losing himself in the pleasure that builds steadily inside him… 

The connection snaps shut so hard Tav thinks she might have smacked her head on the tree she sits against.

“The Karsus weave…it lives in you, but the hunger you feel-”

“It’s no matter compared to the hunger in the vision of the alleyway…those men…Tav, when you were a child, did you-”

“But, did you and Astarion…augh! Gods above us Gale! What kinda mess did we just get into with that tadpole show and tell?!” She groans in exasperation, covering her face with her hands. 

“We should spare a moment to talk about what just happened and the visions shared by our dormant Illithid passengers. I have so many questions,” he braces the sides of her knees, looking up at her with curiosity, concern, and something else…

“We will, I promise you. I…need time to process all of that. I think you need to talk to Astarion, first.”

Gale’s brows furrow at the mention of the other man.

“I’ll have you know that my attempts at civilized conversation thus far have been hijacked by his lordship. If the outcome of negotiations between us turns aggressive, I would like to state for the record that it won’t be from an absence of attempts on my behalf.”

“I get that. Look. I got a suspicion that something big is at play here, and I think we’re going to have to overcome our differences with each other and be able to work together. You two got off on the wrong foot- sorry, pun not intended.”

Gale huffs a laugh at her joke. He stands, offering a hand to assist her to stand with him and get a move on resuming their tasks. There’s only a few more incantations left to go to finish their warding project, the sun is starting to sink in the sky, and dinner certainly won’t cook itself.

“You have my word that I shall put every effort towards reconciliation. However, if the other party refuses to cooperate I cannot guarantee results.”

“I’ll talk to him tonight. Promise me you’ll do your best to get along?” she sighs out, rubbing the side of her temples. 

“It shall be done. Just- please be careful, will you Tav? You saw what happened to me during our connection, and I fear for your ability to walk away with your… ahem- dignity intact. I could accompany you-” Gale’s offer is cut short by the wave of her hands. 

“No, I don’t want him to feel like we’re backing him into a corner. Something tells me he wouldn’t like that at all.”

“Only if you’re certain,” Gale tilts his head down with a nod, his pleading eyes trying to ascertain her confidence. 

Tav nods and smiles, hoping he isn't able to tell that she’s really screaming inside.

==============================

“Astarion, a word?”

He knicks the edge of the canvas with his knife, tearing it asunder with his vampiric strength to reveal the beautiful visage of his target.

“Ah, our dear leader reappears! What can I do for you, darling?” 

Tav makes a face like someone just knocked the air out of her.

She’s terrible at disguising her desire for him. If he could see himself through her eyes, what vision would she have before her that would entice her so? 

Would his skin be glittering in the sunlight with his undead body’s pathetic attempt at perspiration, and would she be wondering how it would glide against hers? Maybe she likes a man with exposed forearms, he does have his sleeves rolled up while he tears the fabric much like how he’s ripped apart many a bodice in the past. Or maybe it is the sewing needle and waxed thread between his teeth, perhaps she’d rather have her nipple pinched between them instead?

“I…uhm…can I speak with you tonight before first watch? Alone? At the abandoned lookout tower we passed on the way here?” Tav glows a shade of red that couldn’t possibly be fully attributed to exposure from the unforgiving Highsummer sun. 

“Say no more, my dear,” He pins the needle through a ruffle on his blouse to secure it, stashing his dagger at his side. 

He is close to her now.

Too close. 

“An evening rendezvous with my favorite traveling companion…how could I say no?” He drawls, tracing a finger along the outline of her jaw, admiring how easily she trembles with his touch. 

“Great! I’m gonna- uh, go get cleaned up before dinner- see you then!” 

Astarion removes the needle from his shirt as he watches Tav power walk away from him, resuming his stitching. As he weaves the needle through he cannot help but chuckle to himself at how she is already in his clutches, trapped in the metaphorical web he’s woven specially for her.

==============================

Hearing the sound of someone hauling themselves up the steep rock face of their agreed meeting spot, Astarion arranges himself in an attractive pose, lounging on the ground to look wistfully up at the stars. 

It must have worked - he can hear pulse flutter as she drinks in the sight of his ethereal beauty, illuminated by the silver glow of the moon.

“Hey, thanks for waiting for me- whatcha lookin at? Anything good?” She awkwardly looks up at the sky- he supposes she’s searching her memory if the last few days of Highsummer would feature any astronomical events of note. 

“Why yes, it’s quite the sight. The stars, I mean. I could take or leave your chin.”

Tav self-consciously touches her face at his negging, brushing it off with a shake of her head. “You can really see how much brighter they are out here. It’s hard to notice with the evening light pollution in the B-Geezy,”

Astarion winces from the psychic damage dealt to him from her horrid nickname of the city he’s called home for most of his un-dead life. Where in the nine hells did she hear that? Worse yet is when he considers it may be a Tavirel Lorak original. 

“So, you’re probably wondering why I wanted to meet you out here,” Tav begins, suddenly breathless under Astarion’s intense gaze. Hells, she’s so nervous being alone with him. It’s cute, actually, it reminds him of how one would speak with their first crush. “I wanted to talk about something…”

He stands up, slinking over to her. Has she finally had enough of the torture she puts herself through and has decided to succumb to his charms? If it turns out she is still resisting him after tonight she won’t be able to hold out much longer - he’ll make sure of it. 

“It feels awkward to bring up, but I wanted to make sure all was well between you and Gale?” 

Her question makes his eyebrow twitch. 

She’s brought him out here, a balmy late summer’s eve in the moonlight, a perfect storybook romantic escape not to confess to him but…to criticize him? This isn’t going according to plan. At all.

“It looked like you were both sharing an…intimate moment last night and Gale’s been feeling a way about it. He mentioned that-”

“This is the reason you’ve lured me away from camp? To scold me like a child?” Astarion challenges her with his reply, feeling the creep of that same poisonous emotion from the other night begin to bubble up again.

“If we’re going to be traveling together it’s important that we are all able to work together. I need you two to settle up whatever ugliness is between you,” he sees her scowl as she asserts herself.

“Hah! The wizard is too much of a coward to face me so he runs to mother, expecting her to do so in his stead. Are you always so easily manipulated? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at your naivety, all things considered.”

“What do you mean by that?” 

It’s not her words that give Astarion pause- it’s the horrid look twisting her beautiful face into something that makes him want to jump out of his own skin. Her expression is hauntingly identical to the face of indignant surprise Cazador used to make when Astarion’s carefully crafted mask of obedience would slip.

Panic causes his ears to fill with a high pitched ring and his vision unfocuses for a moment. He can’t believe that he’s spoken back in such a rude, impulsive manner to her. The muscles of his lean body involuntarily tense and freeze, bracing himself for a violent, sharp correction. 

The spell is broken seconds later when he realizes it never arrives. 

In place of the harsh punishment his master would have dealt him, a different sort of pain grips him. His barely beating heart threatens to split in two at the sight of her pointy ears sagging while his words sink in. 

“You know, you’re right about me being a little green around the ears. Being honest, this is my first real ‘big’ adventure leading a team. I’ve mostly done work as a guide, and I’ll be damned if I haven’t woken up every day since we got these worms put in our eyeballs wondering if I’m really cut out for any of this,” the corner of her mouth quirks up to gaslight them both into thinking his remarks didn’t sting as much as they did.

He needs to recover this. 

But wait- maybe he can use it to his advantage. Is this temporary setback a gift in disguise that will bring her back around to him with more intensity? 

He’s willing to take a chance and find out.  

“Come now, darling. You must have some skill with how to get on with people, otherwise you would have gone out of business long ago. What do you have in mind for how we resolve our conflict, hmm? Holding hands and talking about our feelings?” The corners of her mouth tug downward- that was the wrong direction he wanted to go.

“Alright then. If that’s no use, I don’t suppose you have what those two-copper romance novels call a ‘get along sweater’ in your pack?” He tempts. The joke meant as a riff on those trashy books she reads disarms her, successfully earning him a hesitant huff of her laughter. 

“Better yet- what if you have a trick card in your sleeve, a secret move passed down by generations of rangers before you?” 

He lowers his normally musical voice and stalks a circle around her. It’s his experience that most rangers can’t resist being hunted, and she’s no exception.

“The game is up, my dear. I’ve uncovered your sinister plans. You were going to use the old ‘There’s only one bedroll’ trick, weren’t you? You would take away a bedroll from one of us, forcing us to lie in each other’s arms and ‘kiss and make up’.” 

He brushes against the surface of her thoughts like he did the other night, hoping to see something wonderfully depraved. 

Two bodies are pressed together, but it’s not Gale he sees in his arms. 

Tav lies beneath him on top of an unfolded bedroll, beads of sweat dripping down her naked skin, their limbs entangled with one another. She’s taking him in so well, pushing her hips up to meet his as he buries himself in her completely. She sucks on his fingers coated in her slick to muffle her loud cries of pleasure that threaten to wake the entire camp… 

He smiles to himself.

His gamble paid off, she’s right back on track.

“I’m not sure being closer is what you both need right now,” her strained, dry voice crackles out. 

“I was just thinking the same thing! You know, I can feel a connection between us, great minds and all that withstanding. Say, might I disclose something…personal to you? I’ve had a certain special someone in my thoughts, and I can assure you it’s not the wizard.”

“Oh…uhm, who’s the lucky person?” Tav gulps a breath of air down nervously, her knees all of a sudden feeling rather wobbly. 

This is all very good. If her knees are weakened by the barest mention of his interest, he can’t wait to see how sticky and sweet she is for him after he slathers his honeyed words all over her. 

“You might know her. Elven, young, cascading waves of ebony that shimmer an assortment of precious gems in the sunlight. Eyes the color of bashful spring violets, not commonly seen amongst her kind. Which- speaking of unusual. She’s completely devoid of the typical aloof elven airs, it’s rather refreshing if you ask me. A plucky heroine with a wicked, naughty sense of humor,” He places a hand around her waist and draws her closer to him, bringing his hand under her chin. 

Unbeknownst to Tav, the canned lines that have her captivated were rehearsed earlier while sewing and assembling tents with Lae’zel (who complained about how terrible they were the whole afternoon that they worked). They spill from his lips and flow freely, as if they were read aloud from the crisp pages of a fledgling poet’s first book.

“She’s so vulnerable, and yet she keeps getting back up to face her challenges head on. Her actions may be seen as foolish, but I see it as bravery.”

All Tav can do as he speaks is look up to his hungry eyes, stunned as he devours her with his gaze. 

“I’m not easily impressed, but I am quite taken with how she has fearlessly confronted the absurd dangers we’ve faced so far. She’s much stronger than I gave her credit for.”

He imagines his proximity to her and his best lines are driving her mad- he can hear her heart running away from her at a million miles an hour, feel the burn of her nerve endings set on fire.

“My favorite part? A torrent of desire rages inside her. Her passions have been suppressed far longer than one should and are more than rattling at the bars of their enclosure. She’s going to be a terrible, insatiable amount of fun when she is set free - it’ll be an incredible sight to behold,” he feels the skin in contact with him prickle and shiver with excitement at his continued speculations.

“The glimpses that I have been allowed have piqued my interests, and my appetite. What a delight it’ll be to unshackle the restraints of shame that hold her back…I’m salivating at the very thought.” 

Tav freezes. Did…he just say that? Does he really want her as badly as she wants him? 

She can’t tell if he’s being genuine. Despite the fact that he may be lying through his pointy teeth, it was clear to her now that Astarion was talking about her. Even if he doesn’t mean a damn thing he says, a spasm low in her abdomen rocks her core at the thought that he might. 

 A spark of hope ignites as well. She thought her chances had been lost the other evening.

“…You think about me? Like…that? After last night I thought that it was just me that felt this way…“ she breathes out. She realizes a moment too late what has slipped past her lips, mortified at her confession. She tries to look away but is held firm in the vampire’s grasp. 

For Astarion, little wins such as this in his games of seduction never get old. The admission of Tav’s desire for him has made his heart leap in fiendish delight. He tilts her chin upwards and inspects her curious eyes, searching for more of the unspoken truth.

A rakish grin forms, his elongated, achingly sharp teeth on display when he finds what he is looking for.

There it is.  

He has her now, exactly where he wants her.

The hand that was on her waist has slid down to palm her ample, shapely rear through the thin fabric of her leggings. There’s much more than a handful for him to fondle, and he does so with a firm, appreciative squeeze. 

“Is that so, my sweet? Don’t sell yourself short. You have your charms, more so than you think. In fact, I’ve found them rather… delicious.” 

His plan to press kisses to her throat and find the perfect spot to drink from her are interrupted when she gasps at the sudden feeling of his hands on her, her hips reflexively jerking against his own. He groans, distracted by the decadent feel of how they so perfectly slot against the other. 

He licks his lips, unable to hold back his hunger any longer. 

Fully intending to take advantage of her continued surprise from his lecherous grasp, he readies himself to drink from her. His mouth waters with anticipation, teeth ready to pierce her supple, willing flesh. He inhales, his whole body thrumming with the need to satiate his voracious appetite…

He can’t do it. 

Growling in frustration, he notices the animalistic noise causes Tav to whimper and melt in his embrace, helpless and moldable in his arms. If there was ever a moment to claim her as his, now is the time. He frantically, desperately searches deep within himself for the strength to disobey his master’s commands and feast upon her blood.

Finding the willpower from a dark and forgotten corner of himself, he is inches away from sinking his sharp canines in her neck, salivating in victory when a voice sounds out from behind him. 

“My, my. A lovely evening, wouldn’t you say? Perfect for a secret tryst between two new lovers, a midnight snack, or clandestine deals to be made.”

Astarion is fully ready to slice the intruder to ribbons as he turns to face the voice of the man who had appeared suddenly, quickly changing his mind when the pungent odor of sulfur hits his nostrils.

“Seems as if you’re both eager to whisk yourselves away to retire in each other’s company for the evening. What would suit the occasion? A lullaby perhaps? The mouse smiled brightly: it outfoxed the cat! Then down came the claw, and that, love, was that. They do know how to write them in Cormyr, don’t they?”

Astarion’s arms have a mind of their own, holding Tav possessively to him with the appearance of their intruder. He doesn’t trust this newcomer who smells like rotten eggs and radiates a sinister energy. Before he has a chance to cut him to shreds with his words, Tav’s listless voice sounds out from his chest.

“Did you hear the one about the Wizard in Cormyr?”

“I have not,” the richly dressed man narrows his eyes with his reply, caught off his guard by whatever Tav’s up to.

“He never made it ‘ere, and I guess we’ll never know!” She barks out a laugh at her own terrible joke. 

“Clever girl. I see why you like her. How rude of me not to introduce myself. Well met, I am Raphael, at your service,” He gives a slight bow to the couple before him. 

“So we’re making introductions, are we? Well met, I’m a princess from House Nightstar and this is my fiancee, a tarrasque named Johnathan. Your interruption is unwelcome, and so is your company. I bid you good evening and farewell- it would be wise for you to be on your way,” Astarion’s words that drip with sarcasm earn him the prize of Raphael laughing at his insolence. He reaches down to his belt to draw his dagger when he sees the other man put his hands up in the air in defeat.

“Now now, there’s no need for all of that. I only require a quick word with both of you. Come,” he snaps a finger, whisking them away to a lavish banquet hall where they stand to face each other in front of a roaring fire. 

“Please, feel free to partake. It might be your last supper, after all,” he gestures broadly toward the table. 

The fog of lust in Tav’s brain finally clears. She shakes her head to decline, she’s read enough fae smut in her life to know to never accept a meal from magical strangers. Tav lets go of Astarion to face the man with strange powers, her hands assertively placed on her hips, her chest puffed slightly out to make herself seem taller.

“I appreciate the offer of hospitality, but would you be so kind as to take us back to where we were?” 

Astarion can hear her pulse quicken, smell the fear beginning to seep through her pores with her polite refusal. 

“Without hearing my offer first? Fine- I’ll be quick about it and get to the point. You and your misfit group of fellow adventurers have been infected with illithid parasites, no? I wanted to offer an alternate solution. I could have it gone if you are amenable to my terms. Just like…that.” He snaps his fingers, smirking at them as the lights of the building flare and the house rumbles.

“I hope you weren’t expecting any final decisions tonight. I’m not going to make any deals with anyone without talking to the rest of the party first. We make big decisions like these together, those are the rules, even if I did make them up,” she shrugs out. 

“Take all the time you need. Try to cure yourselves, shop around if you must, it matters not to me. Just keep me in mind when all is lost and you’ve nowhere else to turn. I’ll be there when your luck runs out.”

He snaps his fingers again.

Tav and Astarion are alone again, underneath the stars. 

“Now, where were we?” 

Astarion wastes no time drawing closer to her again, hands coming up to stroke gently down the side of her face. Tav watches as the mask falls and he suddenly freezes, takes a ragged exhale, and curses under his breath. He looks like he is in pain with his eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched. 

“Are you alright?” she gently inquires, reaching out to him in concern. He captures her hands in his, pressing a hungry kiss to the pads of her fingers.

“Why don’t you go back to camp? I need a moment to myself to get some air, clear my head. I’ll see you later, I’m sure. Sleep tight, darling.”

Buzzkill Notes from The Author:

Trigger warning for Chapter 13: If you guessed the next chapter is Astarion's Cazador nightmare, you guess correctly. I've had this 85% written for weeks. I have a version of it that's messed up, and then a version that is just straight up Dead Dove Territory.

Any feedback on what you would/would not want to see is appreciated!

I'll be tagging any future Dead Dove chapters with a "DD" in front of the chapter name. Give you the D so you don't have to read about it if you don't want to? Eh? EH???

Tav doesn't know what's going on between Gale and Astarion so she's doing the gas-lighty manager thing where she assumes both parties are at fault and tells Gale to work it out with Astarion. Gale agrees to it because he wants Tav, and Tav can't assert herself with Astarion because she's a chronic people pleaser.

The other fanfic I've seen use "Useless as tits on a boar hog" is Feeding Alligators, it's funny as hell, and you should go read it if you haven't already.

Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/51118204/

Astarion is having another flashback when he claps back at Tav! It won't be the last time he has one, I plan to use them as a plot device in the next few chapters.

While we know Raphael is a devil, Tav initially assumes that there's some Fae BS happening. Astarion did the smart thing by not telling them their real names, and they both did the smart thing by not eating the food on the table. Resource below is for 5E and says food and drink is okay when invited, but IRL it's hella not.

Source: https://www.gmbinder.com/share/-M1wy4a3RZ6sP1twCZDt

"Green around the ears" is a malaphor used by President Obama during the 2008 debates with John McCain. It's not my favorite presidential malaphor, and I hope I'll get a chance to put it in an upcoming chapter. 

Source: https://malaphors.com/2012/08/08/green-behind-the-ears/

"As it turns out" is one of my favorite ways to set expectations with people instead of saying "Unfortunately". There's something about setting a negative tone that can sour an interaction in a customer service setting. Source is not where I learned it, but I'm always happy to refer to the unhinged world of LinkedIn blogging.

Source: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/another-common-question-why-however-unfortunately-list-mary-shores

[routeraven]

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[loving-lucissa]

since i personally hc that regulus is narcissa’s favourite cousin and vice versa, how do you think he would react to being an uncle to narcissa’s kid(s) — i personally see him being all awkward at first but then he’s just having so much fun spending time with them that when narcissa comes to collect her kids regulus pretends he doesn’t know where they are so they can stay for longer

A/N: I don’t think I’m good at requests, tbh. I don’t think I wrote this the way that it was meant to be, but I hope it’s still enjoyable to read 😅

Standing in front of the doors of Malfoy Manor, Regulus shifted awkwardly. His mother had owled him earlier, telling him that his cousin had birthed a son – Draco. He really wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that information, but he thought at the very least, he should probably introduce himself. So, he had gone out and bought some congratulatory flowers for Narcissa and picked up a little stuffed dragon for the family’s newest constellation before dressing in some formal robes and making the short journey to Wiltshire.

He let out a sigh, jostling the presents in his arms and knocked on the large door. The door soon opened, a house elf waited patiently, asking him what he needed.

“Umm, I’m here to see Narcissa.” Regulus fumbled, trying to muster up some confidence but clearly struggling.

The elf gave a little nod and asked him to follow as he made his way up the stairs and down the long hallway. Regulus followed close behind, noting how quiet everything seemed. He had never really been around a baby before, but he imagined that they cried or made some kind of noise. He also noticed a few healers scurrying about, packing tools and other materials into bags. The letter from his mother had been hours ago, so he was a little confused as to why healers would still be hanging around, but it must be a normal thing.

“My mistress is in there with the new baby,” the elf informed, stopping in front of a door he could only assume was the master bedroom.

“Thank you,” Regulus said to the creature, watching as if bowed low and ran off with tears in its eyes. He took another moment to collect his anxious feelings. After all, he wanted to make a positive first impression. Once he felt slightly more calm, he pushed open the door, ready to meet his new family member.

The sight before him was not what he was expecting. He stood in the doorway, frozen. Narcissa was laying in the middle of the large bed, looking tired, yet totally serene. Her husband, Lucius, a man he knew as both stoic and ruthless, laid beside her, his head leaning against her’s. He wore a smile, yet looked like he was about to cry or had been crying, Regulus really couldn’t tell, but they were both gazing down at a tiny bundle in Narcissa’s arms, totally unaware of anything happening outside their little bubble. Suddenly, all the anxiety he had fought off before entering the room was now rushing back. This was a very private, very intimate moment that he was interrupting and he felt very unwelcome, but what was he supposed to do? Should he back out? Announce himself? Was he supposed to keep looking at them or avert his gaze? What was the right thing to do?”

“Regulus?”

Narcissa’s questioning tone snapped him out of his thoughts. She was looking at him curiously, but her face still held a smile that made him smile as well. However, he began to feel overwhelming dread as his eyes moved to Lucius who was staring at him almost menacingly. He saw that same look on Lucius during raids and the fact that the older man was giving him this look made him want to cower away, leaving the family as they were.

“I– My mother said that...umm, I brought these for you,” he stammered, holding out the flowers, but not daring to enter. He looked down, noticing the stuffed animal in his other hand, “Oh…and I-I got this for Draco.”

“Your mother told you Draco was born and you decided that now would be a good time to show up?” Lucius growled, his eyes narrowed.

Regulus looked around nervous, not wanting to make eye contact with Lucius again, “Umm, ye-yeah. I…ugh, I wanted to meet him.”

Narcissa hummed, “People normally show up the next day. You know, having a new baby is a bit of an adjustment.” Regulus nodded, silently cursing his mother for excluding that little rule from her letter. He bowed his head and lowered his arms in defeat, before moving to back out of the room. “But you’re already here, so do you want to see him?”

Regulus stopped in an instant, looking back up at Narcissa and giving an excited little nod. He quickly moved to the side of the bed, peering over as Narcissa unraveled the bundle to reveal a tiny blonde baby. Truthfully, he wasn’t all that exciting to look at. He wasn’t moving much, other than the small rise in his chest every now and then and he looked wrinkled, like someone had just left him in the bath for way too long.

“Do you want to hold him?”

He looked up from the tiny baby to look at his cousin, a nervous, but polite smile on his face, “He’s very small. I don’t want to hurt him.”

Narcissa let out a sweet laugh, “Lucius said almost the exact same thing, but I promise, you won’t hurt him.” She kept the baby in her left arm and raised her right to gesture towards the plush chair off to the side of the bed, “Pull that chair over and Lucius will place him in your arms.”

Regulus glanced up at Lucius again, who still looked rather annoyed that he was there. He was pretty sure that if he didn’t come up with some sort of excuse to leave, Lucius would kill him. On the other hand, if he refused to take the baby and Narcissa took offense, Lucius would also kill him.

“Shh, it’s okay, love. Here, go to Daddy,” Narcissa cooed, handing the infant to Lucius.

Regulus quickly tossed his gifts on the bedside table and scrambled over the chair, pulling it closer to the bed. He took a seat, watching the new father walk around the bed to stand in front of him. It was so bizarre to see Lucius with a baby. Somehow, he seemed even more proud than he normally was, which didn’t really seem humanly possible. Watching him look at that child, it was like nothing else mattered. He would do anything, be anything for that tiny bundle in his arms and from an outside perspective, it was almost terrifying! Regulus definitely didn’t want to be perceived as any type of threat, for fear that he may not leave the room alive.

When Lucius finally stood in front of him, he held out his arms, ready to scoop the newborn into a firm hold. Lucius was quick to direct him in a calm voice so as not to upset his son, “Just support his neck with one hand and cradle his body with your other arm.”

He took the direction, carefully cradling the baby in his arms. He was amazed for a moment at just how light the little guy was. It felt like there was barely anything to him. He brought him closer to his body, to try to get a better look when Draco’s eyes suddenly opened, his grey eyes blinking a few times as if adjusting to the light before closing them again and letting out a few whimpers. Regulus looked up, very concerned about what was happening, but Lucius was quick to react. He took Draco back out of his arms, before adjusting him and laying the infant onto Regulus’ chest, bringing the boy's arms up to cradle the small baby once more.

“Don’t be so afraid of him, Regulus,” Lucius said with a light chuckle, “Baby’s can smell fear.”

“I think it’s a little hard not to be afraid…I mean, he is the mighty dragon, after all,” Regulus joked back, earning him a smile from the blonde man.

Regulus sat there, getting more comfortable and even snuggling the infant for a bit. Lucius had moved back to the bed, sitting by Narcissa’s side. He could tell that Lucius was concerned for her, now that he wasn’t focused on him or Draco anymore. Thankfully, neither of them had talked to him about the actual birth of their son because he didn’t think he really wanted to know the details, but it must have been difficult judging by how exhausted Narcissa was and how little she was willing to move.

When Narcissa had told him almost a year ago that she was pregnant, Regulus knew she would make a great mom. He had grown up with her and she had always been there to comfort him and offer soothing advice when needed. Lucius, however, he had doubted. Sure, he knew Lucius loved Narcissa, he had never been able to hide his intense feelings for her, but outside of that, he never really cared for anyone else. Seeing him today, however, was almost a blessing. Even though he was terrified, he knew Lucius would always be there to protect his family and little Draco would always be a priority in both of his parents' lives.

He shifted his gaze back down at Draco, feeling a warm sensation overtake his body. This tiny baby, not even a day old, was so incredibly loved. When he heard that he was a boy, he was slightly concerned that this tiny human would soon be crushed by the responsibility of being the heir of a great house. That somehow, duty would take over and force this child into a lonely existence of lectures, lessons, rules and obligations. But the longer he stayed here, cradling this little miracle, it felt nothing like he had ever experienced growing up. This was nothing but pure, genuine love that he felt.

“Are you okay, Reg? Do you want me to take him?” Narcissa asked. She must have noticed him spacing out.

“What? Oh, no! I think he’s gotten comfortable and I would hate to move him,” he chuckled, rubbing the blonde baby’s back. Maybe that was a lie. Perhaps he just didn’t want to give up this tiny bundle of happiness for even a second.

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Since it’s the day of Halloween (as the time I am writing this) what Lotura (vld) headcanons do you have when it comes to them celebrating Halloween?

Hi, anon! Thanks for the note, and Happy Belated Halloween! I love this ask! Hmm, maybe Lotor and the paladins head to Earth after Allura gains powers at Oriande. They discover that they will arrive at the Galaxy Garrison on October 31:

Pidge is the first person to recognize that they’re returning on a holiday. Lance and Hunk join in on the excitement, which prompts a culturally curious Lotor to ask about this “Halloween.”

Lotor is deeply fascinated by the holiday’s origins in Samhain and in the belief that the barriers between worlds lose strength.

Coran recalls that Altea had a similar happenstance in the phoeb of Wilum, during which he once spoke to the ghost of his Pop Pop Wimbleton and briefly reunited with his old pet, Fluffy Stardancer Wimbleton Smythe.

Allura and Lotor take the holiday very seriously and decide they should dress up in accordance with Earth tradition to avoid any issues with interdimensional beings or ghosts. Pidge and Hunk assist in developing costumes for them.

Given the lack of time and ease of translation, the paladins help Allura and Lotor dress up as elves. Both of them are confused as to why this is a fitting costume until Allura remembers that Earth doesn’t have people with pointed ears and magic except for in their myths and legends.

Someone is getting a costume made in part out of drapes, and Coran is happy to help sew costumes in accordance with the paladins’ understanding of medieval dress.

Pidge thinks Lotor could pass as a dark elf/drow from D&D.

Allura gets a set of fake fangs and giggles, flitting about because she thinks she looks so tough with fangs, but really she just looks baby.

Lotura and the paladins have a Halloween movie marathon while they get ready, and Lotor discovers that romance is still his preferred entertainment genre. He does find murder mysteries interesting, though, and attempts to guess whodunit before the movie ends.

Allura is still too delighted by her costume and fake fangs to pay attention to a movie.

Upon landing on Earth, no one initially suspects Lotor and Allura are actually aliens. Lotor and Allura are perceived as having dressed up as the Faerie King and Queen, and they are both very delighted by this game of pretending to be humans pretending to be inhumans.

Both Lotor and Allura love the candlelight and bonfires associated with Halloween, and they walk together across the town festival hosted by the Galaxy Garrison, simply enjoying the ambiance.

Lotor enjoys pumpkin carving more than Allura does because carving gives him a chance to produce life-like renderings. Meanwhile, Allura isn’t impressed with how squishy and wet pumpkins are on the inside. She squeals if she has to touch the inside of a pumpkin to help carve one, but she finds the perfect little purple candle to place in Lotor's carved pumpkin.

The Lotura pumpkin is a carving of Lotor's cat, Kova. Lotor places it very proudly on the ledge along with the other pumpkin carvings from the paladins and cadets.

Lotor’s favorite Halloween treat is caramel popcorn because of the yummy, sugary/salty crunch. Meanwhile, Allura discovers a deep enjoyment for chocolate and mint candies.

While the younger paladins go trick or treating with other cadets at Galaxy Garrison, Lotor and Allura people-watch and roam about. They still end up with bags of candy from Garrison Officers for having “such great costumes" and winning the pumpkin carving competition, and they trade and barter with each other for their favorite candies quite seriously.

Lotor buys a commemorative spoopy sculpture made by a mysterious artist named AJ LoCascio.

Lotor and Allura both coo over sparkly Halloween lights but accidentally knock over and then eviscerate a prop skeleton for scaring them.

Lotor dares to lightly tease Allura over their costumes as the Faerie King and Queen, and Allura blushes over the implications. With enough warm cider in her, she might tease him right back.

It is cold on Halloween, and Allura snuggles closer to Lotor for warmth. Lotor shares his cloak with her.

Lotor and Allura have difficulty removing their costumes for the evening because they enjoy the pretend life they have through their costumes. That for once, they have no major responsibility to attend to besides pretending to be humans in disguise.

Both of them end up with delightful Halloween pajamas with which to commemorate the holiday.

[ladylouoflothlorien]

The Queen’s Gem

Thranduil x Fem!Reader Word count: 1149 Based on this request by @elia-the-bibliophile​ Disclaimer: It’s a little angsty but nothing the ending doesn’t resolve. Also I just want to say the whole thing about,,, second marriages being taboo,,, does not reflect my real opinions,,, it’s just, , , elves man ,   ,       , 

The door to the King’s personal chambers flew open, and over their threshold stalked the King in a righteous fury with his royal robes billowing out behind him. Following close behind was you, caught in a fiery blaze of your own anger that easily rivalled Thranduil’s. 

“You cannot simply walk away from this, or from me for that matter, your royal stubbornness!” 

There was heat in your voice and in your eyes as Thranduil suddenly stopped and turned to face you, his demeanour now icy cold. Had anyone else dared to speak to him in that way they would have been banished before they could even finish their sentence… but not you, never you. Growing up alongside the King as his dearest friend naturally came with such advantages, and what use are such advantages if they are not exploited in full?

“And naturally, I assume, you know exactly what it is I should do?”

His words were harsh, biting, and you knew him more than well enough to understand that the question was a warning rather than an actual invitation to share your opinion. It was the same tone he’d used when you’d asked him if he was really going to go through with the marriage his father had arranged for him. Still, despite the thinly veiled command to shut up, you were in no headspace to back down from the fight first. 

“Actually, I do.”

Thranduil’s eyes flashed dangerously, which you caught, but still you plowed onwards.

“Speak to him as a father, not as a King. You treat him like one of your subjects Thranduil, you cannot be surprised when he does not act like a son.”

Exasperation was thick in your voice as you spoke. It just seemed so simple to you - you didn’t understand how Thranduil himself could not see it. He did - actually - see it, but admitting that to you would mean swallowing his pride. That was something the King had never been good at, even before his coronation. Thranduil fixed you with a frosty glare before speaking again. 

“What would you know of this matter? An Elleth the same age as I with no children of your own. Hardly an expert on parenthood.”

It was a low blow and he knew it, and you couldn’t speak for the sudden lump in your throat. Children required a marriage. Elves only married for love, except in rare circumstances such as Thranduil had found himself in. It was also widely known that Elves did not give love easily. There was only one elf you could have happily married, but those feelings had been pushed aside to preserve the friendship as soon as his engagement had been publicly announced; an engagement that hadn’t involved you. Thranduil’s current status as a widower was immaterial. A second marriage was taboo even for a common elf, but for a King… Thranduil could have - should have - stopped there, but he continued despite the murmur of his conscience telling him not to from beneath his anger. 

“You are not my wife, nor are you Legolas’ mother. It is not your place to talk to me about this.”

You found your voice, insulted beyond belief and extremely hurt.

“I am your friend Thranduil, or I thought I was.”

When he didn’t immediately reply, choosing instead to sneer down at you from his great height, you suddenly saw him as many outside Mirkwood had come to see him. Not as your greatest friend, but as the spiteful and bitter King of a broken, dying Kingdom. The sight tore you apart. You instantly turned to leave. 

You turned so suddenly that you didn’t take your surroundings into account. Directly behind you was the display stand upon which the crown of the Queen of Mirkwood was displayed, for though there was currently no Queen the crown itself was beautiful. Your hip collided with the plinth, which toppled, and the Crown began to fall. Later you would question why such a delicate object was placed on such an unsteady plinth, but in that moment you had only one single thought: fuck.

Not a moment later you found yourself sprawled on the floor with the crown in your hands. Your shaken mind helpfully supplied that you’d thrown yourself at the floor in an adrenaline-fuelled stunt to try and prevent the crown from getting damaged. Clearly it had worked. You blinked and looked up, and when you did Thranduil was staring at you. Oh, of course. He would not want you touching the crown of the Queen. 

“My King… I am so, so sorry. It was an accident, I swear.”

Only on very rare occasions did you call Thranduil your King in a way that wasn’t sarcastic or teasing, and normally when you did Thranduil would flinch - almost imperceptibly, but you always saw it. This time, however, nothing happened at all. It was like he hadn’t even heard you.

“T-Thranduil?”

Still nothing, no reaction. You felt your heart in your throat, but then after a second you realised that he wasn’t actually staring at you - he was, rather, staring at the crown you were clutching in your lap. You couldn’t think of a reason why he would want to stare at it so intently. He saw it every day after all, and you knew it hadn't been damaged because you’d caught it. Suddenly annoyed, you looked down… Everything changed. 

--

Second marriages were a taboo at the best of times, but when the Queen’s Gem was shown to glow in your touch as you held the crown, even the most traditional of Thranduil’s advisors dared not oppose him when he announced his engagement to you. They could not challenge your right to be Queen. That was, after all, what the shining Gem declared. It proclaimed you as a worthy ruler to all who saw its light, and not even the old Queen - fair and just though she had been - had gotten its light to shine in all her many years on the throne beside her husband. So they tolerated the match and the breaking of tradition, though they certainly did not intend to make a habit of it. Legolas however, did not merely tolerate the match, he wholeheartedly supported it. You had always been kind to him, and he wanted his father to have another chance at true happiness. 

Finally being allowed to love Thranduil openly was like coming home. That wasn’t to say that your relationship was perfect - there were still arguments sometimes - but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything in all of Arda. Another benefit of actually being in a relationship with Thranduil was that the process of making up after a fight was now much more enjoyable. The world was not perfect either, the darkness still grew, but standing united together you both knew you’d be strong enough to withstand it until the light returned once more. Forever Tags: @sweeticedtea​ @cd1242​ @strongandfreedc​ @pixierox101​​​​ @jotink78​​​​ @luna-xial​ @underthemoon-n​

[mrsseverussnape]

Love Is You - chapter 11

A/n: hopefully this is gonna be posted… It was very stormy and the power is off for hours because of it. I tried to create a moodboard and i am trying to post it but even my own data is not working very well, the storm was that bad and probably damaged something… I deserve some comments after trying that hard to post that😂

    Christmas was around the corner, but Scarlett wasn't as excited as she used to be even it was her favourite time of the year. She was planning to celebrate it with her kids but apparently, they had other plans which she found out quite late. Sirius has invited Leo and Remus over for a boys Christmas celebration and Carina would celebrate it with her boyfriend's family this year. Actually both of the kids have offered to stay with her but she didn't want to ruin their plans for her own enjoyment. Then Scarlett thought to spend the day with her parents just like the old days but it turned out they have already booked a holiday, they would be in Switzerland during Christmas week. So this plan has cancelled too for her. Normally she wouldn't mind staying alone but on special days she would like to have a company, especially this year she needed it more. Scarlett thought if she could invite someone over for Christmas but she didn't have many friends and the ones she had already married and would celebrate it with their families or they were living in abroad. Then one possible person came to her mind but she wasn't sure if he had someone special to celebrate the Christmas with. But she wanted to give it a try and wrote a letter to Severus and invited him over for dinner.

    Christmas had a special place in their relationship. They have started dating on December, couple of days prior Scarlett's 18th birthday then she has invited him to her house for Christmas break when she found out he would stay at Hogwarts and with that he could meet with her parents. And the best memory of that Christmas was the present that Severus gave to her. He has got her a white British long hair kitten that she fell in love with immediately. Severus has gotten that idea since Scarlett was such a cat lady and actually she was a cat herself as an animagus, also she has told him about her late cat who passed away a year ago. Scarlett has named the new kitten Pearl and she has become basically their baby and in the summer of the same year they got another kitten together and named him Paul. The warm feeling of the memories made her smile, these happy memories has become her comfort zone lately.

    It was the Christmas evening and the kids were ready to leave while Scarlett was busy decorating a cake. Leo and Carina came to the kitchen to say goodbye to her.

"Mum the cake looks delicious but isn't it way too big just for you to eat?"

"I will have a friend over, i won't be alone."

"Oh you didn't mention that. Now we don't feel as guilty for leaving you alone. Who is coming?"

"Professor Snape."

The kids exchanged looks for a moment. They still haven't said anything to her about the trunk so she had no idea that they know about her past relationship with Severus Snape.

"It will be great for you two to remember good old days, I am sure you have missed them. Have fun!"

Scarlett looked at Carina rather suspiciously after what she just said. She was asking and talking a lot about Severus and her lately. "Thank you... Are you leaving?"

"Yep, take care and don't drink much mum."

"Okay mother." Scarlett rolled her eyes at her daughter. "You two have fun and say merry Christmas to everyone from me." She kissed their cheeks goodbye. "Love you."

"Love you too mum, bye!" Carina and Leo both apparated at the same time, leaving Scarlett by herself.

She did the final touches on the cake and put it in the refrigerator to set. Now she needed to get dressed before he came. Scarlett decided on a velvet bodycon dress which is off shoulder and its emerald green colour was complimenting her copper red hair beautifully. She brushed and styled her wavy hair and finally put her signature red lipstick. Scarlett looked herself in the mirror and enjoyed her view truly for the first time in a while. She hasn't dressed up fully for a long time and she has missed seeing herself like this.

    The knock on the door took her away from her thoughts. She rushed to the door and took a deep breath before opening it. When she opened the door and saw him standing there with a winter bouquet and wine bottle in his hands. It was such a coincidence that he has picked a velvet emerald green jacket to combine with his black trousers and shirt.

"Welcome Severus, come in! It is snowing outside."

"Hello." He smiled and entered the house once he lived in together with her, handed her the bouquet and the wine he brought. “These are for you.”

"Ah thank you, the flowers are so pretty!" She inhaled the flowers’ scent.

"Not as pretty as you..." Severus couldn't take his eyes off of her, Scarlett has aged like a fine wine.

She blushed lightly at his statement and looked away from him. "You can directly go to the dinner table; we better eat them before they get cold. And you know what, i cooked everything by myself, no help from the house elf!"

"Today is the big day then huh? You are showing me your improved cooking skills?"

"Oh yes today is the day!" Scarlett giggled while they were taking their seats.

He looked at the small feast that she prepared for them. It wasn't a classic Christmas feast since both of them were vegetarians but everything was looking more than perfect.

"I must say, i am already impressed Scarlett. Everything looks and smells splendid."

"Everything tastes splendid  too, i guarantee." She winked at him. "Help yourself, bon Appetit!"

    After the dinner they moved to the couch with their drinks in hands. Severus has really enjoyed the foods even he admitted that Scarlett's cooking skills have moved from 1 to 5 point. Scarlett was more than happy to hear that because cooking wasn't her best skill at all.

    Hours have passed and they have talked little bit of that and little bit of this, ate the cake Scarlett has baked and listened to some music from the record player. After 4 glasses of wine, Scarlett had an unnecessary amount of courage and suddenly asked him if he had anyone in his life even though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answer. Severus wasn't expecting that question at all but he had the answer.

"No, i don't." Severus finished off the wine in his glass. Starting a new relationship didn’t even cross his mind after their breakup. It was either Scarlett or no one for him.

"How come you are still single? You would make a great husband, i am sure."

Severus sighed and shook his head. "Scarlett, you are the only one who value me, every part of me that i don't even like myself... And i am so stupid that i let you go..." He wasn't planning the say those things but they did flow from his mouth, apparently wine has affected him too. But he didn’t care, if they had to do the talk they would now.

"I didn't want to go, you left me..." Scarlett whispered while playing with the wine glass. He hasn't even given her a proper reason, just left her. "Why did you leave? I deserve an answer Severus... It has been years, won’t you tell me still?”

Severus still didn't want to tell her the reason, he was sure it would make Scarlett very upset but he knew he should eventually. The reason has made sense to him at the time but the moment he broke up with her, Severus has regretted his decision deeply but he couldn't turn back because he has thought she wouldn't want him back anymore after how much he hurt her.

Severus took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, this talk wouldn’t be easy at all for both of them. "I will tell you but please let me finish it before saying anything… You remember that nightmare-like times between us and Sirius… I have visited Sirius when he was at the hospital after his suicide attempt, this was before your dad informed you about it. All he talked about was you and how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. And i thought maybe he loves you more since he tried to kill himself after you cut the ties with him, because of me... Scar i don't know, i just thought that he could give you more things than me and you deserve the best so i decided that you would be happier with him than being with me... Don’t look at me like that…"

Scarlett couldn't believe the things she just heard. She has always thought that he fell in love with someone else or he didn't love her anymore. "Severus, that is the stupidest thing i've ever heard from you... Didn't i show you enough that i was in love with you deeply and i was so happy with you...? I didn't want anyone or anything else but you Severus. I loved you… but apparently you didn’t love me enough…"

“That’s not true…” He couldn't dare to look into her eyes or say anything else, the words stuck into his throat. Now he knew it is a stupid reason but as a young boy it made sense to him. Severus has never thought a beautiful and rich girl like Scarlett would be his friend, let alone be dating someone like him. And there was Sirius, Hogwarts's most handsome boy and Scarlett's lifelong best friend, plus he was in love with her like crazy. Sirius looked like a better fit for Scarlett rather than himself, he never felt confident against Sirius, Severus didn’t have the looks nor the money while Sirius had both. But now looking at Scarlett and Sirius's divorce, it was clear that his thoughts were nonsense because he would never cheat on Scarlett, ever.

"Severus...?"

Scarlett’s trembling voice brought him back to reality from his thoughts. Severus looked into her tearful eyes, she always told more with her eyes and Severus liked that silent communication but now her eyes had an effect of a dagger and stabbed his heart. Then his eyes moved to her red lips and unconsciously he leant into them ever so slightly but he pulled himself back in the next second he noticed what’s he doing, he shouldn't have kissed her even he wanted nothing else. Scarlett was the same; her heart was wanting to kiss him but her brain was saying it's not a good idea at the current situation.

"I better go... Thank you for the dinner." Severus stood up to leave suddenly;  If he stayed any longer, he was scared that he wouldn't control himself and the conversation had a tool on both of them.

Scarlett just nodded, she still couldn’t process the things Severus revealed. "Good night..."

"Good night Scarlett..." And he vanished in the air.

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

[aliypop]

I Don’t Need Your Love

Wordcount: 1,005 

Warning: Angst but Fluff 

A/N: So I figured it was time to get some Astrid and Thor arrangement  backstory, With some fluffy Loki.

"What more do you want!"  Thor growled, his larger form looming over Astrid as she clutched her fist, "I want out of this!" she shouted, "This!" Thor looked at the young woman, a bit confused, "This, us, the engagement!" she stormed off onto the other side of the room. "Astrid, I love you!" Thor grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her closer to him, "You only love yourself, Odin,  that hammer..." she pushed him away, "And my sister..." she mumbled under her breath as Thor scoffed at her. It was true he had place Astrid so low on his concerns that all of Asgard noticed it. "That wasn't your response last night." he looked at the bite mark on her neck, one that still looked fresh.  "I'll admit it. I faked some of it..."  Astrid sighed, " And some parts were enjoyable, but..." Astrid leaned against the golden wall, "My heart wasn't in it." she looked down at her dress. "How dare you lie to your king!" "Do you ever think!" Astrid asked. Her fist in her hair tugging, almost ripping it out.

  "Do you ever stop talking!" Thor nearly screamed, his hand up, making a gesture watching as Astrid flinched, "ASTRID WAIT!" Astrid ran as she threw down her crown and many other gifts that Thor gave her to keep her happy. The only thing standing was her emerald earrings gifted to her by Loki. Walking past the mirror, Astrid couldn't even recognize herself. She was so dolled up as an Asgardian that even she'd believe that this assortment was right. "Maybe I am the problem..." Astrid sighed, sitting by the pond in Frigga's garden using her magic to feed the animals that gathered around her, the serene smell of lavender surrounding her soothing her as she laid amongst the flowers, her eyes red and puffy,

"You deserve someone who values you." Astrid jolted up from her sleep, focusing her powers to blast the intruder, "It's only me..." Loki sat beside her, dressed in his usual green armor. His pale hand rubbing circles on Astrid's cheek, still feeling the dampness from her tears, "You deserve someone who won't make you cry." he sighed, "Someone who doesn't cast you aside." "Who knows your secrets." Astrid smiled, leaning into his touch, "Who you love as a best friend." her hand gracing his beautiful features, her dark brown eyes staring into his sea-green ones, "Darling, we haven't been friends since..." "The day we met." " Yet you've blossomed into a beautiful woman." Loki kissed her forehead as Astrid smiled, "But you, sometimes are still but a worm and an icky bug of the bottom of an elf's shoe." he smirked as Astrid pushed him the two falling into the thick Asgardian grass, "And you are still a beef witted scrub." Astrid laughed, "and the son of a snake." Loki pretended to look shocked the two play fighting in the garden just as they used to do when they were little.  Crickets sang sweet lullabies as lightning bugs lit the path, the sun kissing the horizon, waiting for its lover the moon to arrive.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Astrid shouted, looking behind the rose bushes and under rocks for Loki. She even pulled out a carrot in case he decided to pull the horse trick again. "If I were a Loki..." she mumbled, "Where would I hide..." she looked behind the tree as she heard something rattle from it. A green serpent slithered down next to her on one of the limbs watching as Astrid made eye contact with it. "Haha, very funny, Loki..." she tapped the snake as it hissed at her, Astrid blasting at it as she tripped over something scaley and green wearing horns. "AH!" "Astrid, I'm right here." Loki laughed, his hands on her hips, "What in Odin's beard was that thing..." Astrid asked, clinging onto him, " An Alligator..." he chuckled, ushering for Astrid to pet it. "Why can't we play a round of the floor is Muspelheim..." she sighed, petting the creature, "Oh, you mean the floor is Surtur's flames..." "No, Muspelheim..."  Astrid grumbled "It's Surturs flame, you benevolent tit-mouse," "Is not!" Astrid snapped. "It is too..." Loki responded, stepping closer, "Is not!" Astrid could smell the faint scent of mint, grass, and books radiating off him. "Is too..." his hands on her waist as he pulled her closer, the smell of grass and roses coming from her as she kissed him, "Is not..." her hands around his neck as he carried her bridal style, "Can you picture it..." Astrid asked, playing with his raven locks, "Picture what..." he asked, taking in her scent, hearing her tone shift the closer they got to the palace. "You and I together..." she looked up at him as his heart sank to his stomach. He knew what Astrid was getting at and, it wasn't like he didn't stay up late scheming how to break an arranged marriage. Astrid was who he wanted to wake up to and not see her have to sneak off before Thor noticed she was his reason and his life. How could he not picture it?

"Us, I like the sound of it." he smiled, "I like the sound of us having a beautiful family, running off to daring galaxies... away from this madness."  he smiled, "Having you by my side to hold and perhaps rule," Astrid blushed listening to him letting his softer side show,

"Waking up to you in my arms..." "Then have it... Have me..." Astrid bit his lip, deepening her kiss, "Tonight and forever, I'm yours if you allow me to be so." her head amongst the soft pillows on his bed as she turned to face him,  bodies in the afterglow of Freya's kiss, their breathing syncing up as she laid her head on his chest. Dark curls roaming free as her hands held onto Loki's, "I suppose this is where you'll leave me, isn't it." "No, this is where I'll stay." Astrid smiled,

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Treat Your S(h)elf

Fly Girls: How Five Daring Women Defied All Odds and Made Aviation History by Keith O’Brien

Others found jobs but got paid far less than men—a fact not lost on cash-strapped employers. It was, one employer said, the only real reason to hire women: “They produce more and demand less.

- Keith O'Brien, Fly Girls

I wish I had read this book when I was growing up as I was in ignorant bliss to the barriers faced by the early women pioneers of aviation. I count myself fortunate that I had a supportive family that despite being conservative only had one ground rule if I was going to do something than see it through to the end. No whining or making excuses. I’m not into cookie fortune wisdom such as turn obstacles into opportunities (however true that is). But when some people tell me I can’t do something I jolly well go ahead and do it.

Describing the feeling of flying is like describing why one climbs mountains. If you really have to ask then you won’t get it. As Louise Thaden, one of the most iconic pioneering women aviators in this book said, “If you will tell me why, or how, people fall in love, I will tell you why, or how, I happened to take up aviation.”

But from about 14-15 years old I was hooked and by 17 I had my pilot’s license. I would learn to fly out in Asia (because we lived there) and in Kenya and South Africa (on family vacations). Flying was the one thing my other ultra-competitive older siblings could not do. They were better than me in almost everything else - triathlons, mountaineering, hiking, polo, horse riding, parachuting - but not driving cars fast or flying. But beyond a childish and immature source of pride I cannot describe the heavenly bliss of piloting a plane over stunning landscapes. I knew early on I wanted to fly as a career and fortunuately the army gave me that path to succeed flying combat helicopters.

My path was much easier because of the women aviators that had gone before me. For pioneering pilots of the 1920s and 1930s, the challenges were enormous. For women it was even more daunting. In this marvellous history, Keith O’Brien recounts the early years of aviation through a generation of American female pilots who carved out a place for themselves and their sisterhood.

Although Amelia Earhart’s story has been recounted numerous times, the addition of the other female pilots makes for a more thorough and enjoyable read that should appeal to readers interested in history, aviation, and women’s achievements.

Despite the sensation they created, each of these amazing women “went missing in her own way.” This is the inspiring untold story of five women from very different walks of life - including a New York socialite, an Oakland saleswoman, a Florida dentist’s secretary and a Boston social worker - who fought and competed against men in the  high-stakes national air races of the 1920s and 1930s — and won.

Between the world wars, no sport was more popular, or more dangerous, than airplane racing. Thousands of fans flocked to multi-day events, and cities vied with one another to host them. The pilots themselves were hailed as dashing heroes who cheerfully stared death in the face. Well, the men were hailed. Female pilots were more often ridiculed than praised for what the press portrayed as silly efforts to horn in on a manly and deadly pursuit. The derisive press dubbed the first women’s national air race “The Powder Puff Derby.”

It’s a brisk, spirited history of early aviation focused on 5 irrepressible women. Florence Klingensmith, a high-school dropout who worked for a dry cleaner in Fargo, North Dakota, and who trained as a mechanic so she could learn planes inside and out but whose first aviation job was as a stunt girl, standing on a wing in her bathing suit. Louise McPhetridge Thaden a girl who grew up as a tomboy and later became the mother of two young kids who got her start selling coal in Wichita. Ruth Elder, an Alabama divorcee was determined to be the first woman to fly across the Atlantic. Amelia Earhart was of course the most famous, but not necessarily the most skilled. Ruth Nichols who chafed at the constraints of her blue-blood family's expectations of marrying into wealth and into high society.

In 1928, when women managed to get jobs in other male dominated fields, fewer than 12 had a pilot’s license, and those ambitious for prizes and recognition faced entrenched sexism from the men who ran air races, backed fliers, and financed the purchase of planes. They decided to organise: “For our own protection,” one of them said, “we must learn to think for ourselves, and do as much work as possible on our planes.” Although sometimes rivals in the air, they forged strong friendships and offered one another unabated encouragement.

O’Brien vividly recounts the dangers of early flight: In shockingly rickety planes, pilots sat in open cockpits, often blinded by ice pellets or engine smoke; instruments were unreliable, if they worked at all; sudden changes in weather could be life threatening. Fliers regularly emerged from their planes covered in dust and grease. Crashes were common, with planes bursting into flames; but risking injury and even death failed to dampen the women’s passion to fly. And yet their bravery was only scoffed at by male prejudice. Iconic  oilman Erle Halliburton believed, “Women are lacking in certain qualities that men possess.” Florence Klingensmith’s crash incited a debate about allowing menstruating women to fly.

And yet these women still took off in wooden crates loaded with gasoline. They flew over mountains, deserts and seas without radar or even radios. When they came down, they knew that their landings might be their last. But together, they fought for the chance to race against the men - and in 1936 one of them would triumph in the toughest race of all. And When Louise Thaden became the first woman to win a national race, even the great Charles Lindbergh fell curiously silent.

O'Brien nicely weaves together the stories of these five remarkable women in the spirit of Tom Wolfe’s The Right Stuff who broke the glass ceiling to achieve greatness.

Between the unreliability of early planes – developed through trial and error and liable to have a wing suddenly sheer off midflight – and the virulent sexism that hampered these pilots’ access to better quality planes and the sponsorship they desperately needed, it was a tough road. A female flier could hardly emerge unscathed – with the possible exception of Amelia Earhart, the one name still familiar today, successful in flight and public persona, until she disappeared.

This book then is a fine testament to their accomplishlments. It’s no feminist screed but a very human story of courage and conviction triumphing over fear and self-doubt. As Ruth Nichols, the most accomplished female aviator once said, “it takes special kinds of pilots to break frontiers, and in spite of the loss of everything, you can’t clip the wings of their hearts,”

Little girls should never have the wings of their dreams clipped for how else can they soar?