#nuingiliath

[fatepowered]

@nuin-giliath ( from here )

He couldn't breathe, pain was burning through him and as he gasped for air and struggled to get free, Mairon jumped, his eyes opened and they were burning, as he pinned Glorfindel to the floor, saddling him, a hand around his throat and the other lifted up into the air, nails long and sharp as claws, but then he heard a voice telling him that it was just a dream, that it was over. Slowly, Mairon's eyes returned to normal, the claws reshaped back to his elegant fingers and he could not help it when he sobbed with relief as he fell against the elf's chest, hands covering his face, tears falling freely from his eyes and was hyperventilating unable to shake away the fear of being hurt and unable to do anything about it. He could not care what the elf thought of him, his panic was too real and memories haunted him as if it was happening to him all over again.

Glorfindel did nothing to defend himself against Mairon as he was pushed to the ground. He trusted the reassurances he uttered to bring his lord out of his panic, and fortunately for him, it does. Mairon's talons shrunk to fingernails, and Glorfindel sat up, reaching for the other almost instinctively.

He didn't expect Mairon to crumple into his chest, sobs causing the Maia's body to tremble. But, his own response was instant, strong arms wrapping around Mairon in an attempt to comfort him, ground him, reassure him. He understood that Mairon must be haunted by many things... while he could not protect Mairon from all pain, he could at least hold him, and hold him he does.

Gently, Glorfindel reached a hand up to stroke Mairon's hair, as soft words are whispered into his ear. His own breathing was slow, measured, to coax Mairon's breath into matching his. " It's alright. I am here. "

[celeborn-of-doriath]

Although gentle, Melian's hints about wanting to know more of the slaying of the Teleri were persistent and it felt exhausting to dance around the subject so she fell into a deep silence and left, hoping to have a moment of peace to clear her head.

It was not always easy to keep silent. Memories still haunted her days and nights, but even if she wished to speak about it, she couldn't. It was not just her own fate on the line but of so many others. That was a weight she did not want to carry, at least not tonight, as she walked outside into the warm summer night and a flash of silver, sparkling in the moonlight, caught her eye.

Galadriel came closer, with her bare feet and heavy heart but tried to smile, although the pain was bleeding through. "Is there something that keeps you up at night, Prince Celeborn?" she asked in a mere whisper for it was so quiet and everyone else seemed to be resting, and sounds traveled far for the keen ears.

ーー He'd been surprised to see her out at this hour. Despite the perfect weather and myriad glittering stars the summer sky boasted this evening, most of Menegroth seemed to have preferred solitude this night. All the better for him, he'd reasoned. He had much to think about and he preferred to do it in quiet, away from others.

The Noldorin princess however... well he certainly wasn't about to shun HER company. She'd been the talk of Menegroth ever since she'd arrived , and he knew his Aunt had taken a particular interest in her. But, aside from formal introductions, he'd refrained thus far from making her acquaintance. There would be time later, he'd reasoned, to get to know her on his own terms, and he hadn't wanted her to think him merely another of the many men who seemed captivated by her beauty. She was beautiful. And he had certainly noticed, perhaps more than he wished to admit. But there had to be more to her than beauty, and he had been waiting to see what it might be.

❝ Princess. ❞ He inclined his head to her with a respectful nod. ❝ I am drinking, ❞ he replied, raising the silver goblet of wine he held, ❝ and thinking. ❞ He offered her a welcoming smile. ❝ In truth, I have always preferred the night to the day. It seems to be when my mind is most inspired with ideas. ❞ Unless he was mistaken, she looked a bit put out, as if something might have upset her. ❝ Please, ❞ he gestured to the blanket upon which he was reclining, a twinkle of humor in his eyes, ❝ join me if you like, and tell me your thoughts, or, if you prefer to forget your thoughts, I would be glad to distract you from them. ❞

[alightindarkplaces]

cont. @nuin-giliath

Frodo laughed gayly and shook his head as he took a seat beside him. "It's only clogged, isn't it? You smoke more than anyone I've ever met, and I've never seen you do more than tap it out. Unless you can do some magic about it, I suspect it needs a good cleaning." He watched Gandalf with bright curious eyes, hoping he really would do some magic about it, but knowing still that he probably wouldn't.

[dominusluxuriae]

Mairon's power was growing, one of the side effects of being free and not forced into a role as he had been before, but this came with it's own problems and Lord Melkor, helpfully provided some of the forbidden books. The young Maia hoped that these will help in channel his magic and not have it burst out of him when he was least expecting, for example, when he was feeling particularly intense emotions.

As he was skimming though the books, bent over the large desk in the war room, his rings shimmering in the golden light of the candles as he forgot himself into the long night, as everyone was asleep. Or so he thought. And a certain strangely worded spell caught his attention and he murmured it as he followed the words on the page with a pointy nail.

Just as he read the last line, a soft breeze slipped by him and the silk of his robe clung to his legs and hips, making his breath catch in his throat and stood straight, eyes wide and sensed there was something watching him. He turned, hoping it was Melkor but... it was not. He raised his hand, hoping to pin the intruder into place and snarled, "Who are you and how did you get in here?" and his eyes shifted towards the door, which was closed, just as he left it.

Men were made to be played with. Elves, dwarves. Humans. But gods? Amidst the darkness there was indeed a presence. Something dark as large wings unfurled with a 'whip crack' of a tail. Each second there was a sensation of warmth in the room as if he crawled from a volcano himself. Long dark horns curl back against his head as he looked over Mairon's form. His eyes as red as blood.

Sharp claws reach out for the feminine appearing god. His fingers snap and cracked as he spoke.

"A little godling..fresh for me~" he purred as he purposely ignores the question he asked. His teeth bore sharp as he came closer. "Why have you summoned me?" He asked curiously as the heat seemed to rise in the room. As if a warm fire was warming up the room. The scent of sweet strawberries escaping its lips.

[admirableringmaker]

“I’ve  spent  so  long  fighting  this,  pretending  I  could  live  without  you..” / from Melkor

“Lord Melkor.”

Almaren was a beautiful place, but one with little privacy. Yet somehow, Melkor had a knack for catching him alone, where none of the other would know that he had come. It disturbed Mairon, and yet intrigued him. Why should he not have the attention of the greatest of the Valar? He had always felt his skill had been overlooked.

“Why do you say these things to me?” Pale eyes fixed on him, wary, but curious. “I am no different to my brethren. You have maiar of your own.”

A lie – he believed himself to far above his brothers and sisters, but he was not foolish enough to reveal it now.

[shredsandpatches]

like a well-regulated abbey or ghosts of departed quantities, please? 🥺

Secret for Ghosts of Departed Quantities: All of the rude things Henry remembers his father saying about his psoriasis are, verbatim, things my mother has said to me about mine.

Secret for Like a Well-Regulated Abbey: well, I've already told everyone the boring story of how I got reamed on yuletide_coal for this fic, and not even because of the fic but because of the tags and someone who recognized me and whose friendship with me had just ended disastrously. Also, I've got all the birthdates wrong and hadn't realized that the story of Mary and Henry's imaginary first son had been debunked, but that's not secret because you can see them if you just, you know, read the fic.

So here, because I didn't actually link it in the notes, here's a recording of the "Nay, Ivy, nay" song I used in it.

[nebylitsa]

Also, extremely important: what do you think of an AU where people from the WOTR are caught in the plot of 'Dracula'?

EXCELLENT QUESTION. honestly i see the words “wars of the roses au” and i instantly smash that like button. it could go one of two ways: the plot of dracula, but it takes place in the 15th century (which is plausible, seeing as the count is from an ambiguously medieval time period himself)

richard iii being like “hell yeah i can vibe with this dude”

henry vi feeling bad for dracula bc he doesnt want to hurt anyone, not even a vampire :’^(

dracula trying to make sense of the tangled mess of late medieval english dynastic politics (in the book he reads - among other things - train schedules, to improve his english and enhance his ability to blend in with victorian society; here he’d spend hours poring over genealogical tables, growing increasingly more frustrated because who the hell CARES who has the most royal blood flowing through their veins? its all blood anyway! precious, delicious blood...)

eleanor cobham and the woodvilles being accused not of witchcraft, but of colluding with vampires

cardinal beaufort becoming a vampire hunter by virtue of his religious vocation, stuffing the sleeves of his cassock full of consecrated hosts and extra large crucifixes

the princes in the tower disappear and of course its dracula’s doing. and then he adopts them because damn it, he may be an amoral vampire warlord but he cant stand to see these sweet, precocious children being used as pawns in a selfish political game

margaret of anjou and warwick each trying to cut a deal with dracula to get him to bite them and give them vampire superpowers, so he gladly bites them both

anne neville saying fuck this and going over to dracula’s side because are you tired of being nice? dont you just wanna go ape batshit??

or...

dracula with the standard 19th-century setting, but with a ragtag team of morally compromised megalomaniacs rather than a crew of light bound by the Power of Friendship

henry vi is an unassuming, soft-spoken solicitor and margaret of anjou is his badass educated New Woman wife. when henry goes to transylvania he immediately realizes his host is a vampire, but he just doesnt want to say anything because That Would Be Rude

margaret thinks vampires are cool (and respects dracula’s brides for exercising their Girl Power), but god damn it she’s the only one who gets to push henry around like that!

warwick is the shiftiest, least trustworthy van helsing ever. he isnt even all that invested in beating dracula and goes over to his side halfway through the story

the york brothers are the three suitors: edward is a dashing cowboy, george is a neurotic doctor addicted to drinking chloral, and richard seems like a quiet arthur holmwood type of guy, but deep down he’s kinda fucked up

anne neville is richard’s beloved fiancée who dies mysteriously and comes back as a horrific vampire, but richard’s like “jokes on you im into that shit”

in the 1931 dracula they partially merged renfield and jonathan together (mina has a husband in the movie, but his name is john and he has little to do with the jonathan in the book) so im gonna do the same thing here. henry has a nervous breakdown during his trip to transylvania and margaret finds him in a remote convent, in the grip of delirium and amnesia. sometimes hes completely unresponsive; at other times he raves about blood and eats bugs. after a stay at dr clarence’s asylum (which is admittedly not very humane by modern standards), henry slowly begins to recover enough to tell his story, though his mind is never truly the same again

thanks! <3

(feel free to add more ideas to this au - this is just what i could come up with but there are so many possibilities)

[beardofkamenev]

OTP meme, Catherine/Owen: 7, 16, 26 and 47.

AJKLDFJJDJKJKSJDKFAJKS THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE!

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Owen for sure. While Catherine probably made the ‘first move’ in their relationship, she’s much too dignified to use cheesy pick-up lines on Owen lol. Historically, Catherine was a patron of poets such as John Lydgate, so I think she would take a more romantic approach to these things (an early copy of Lydgate’s Temple of Glas describes the poem as “a very pleasant dream made at the request of a lover” — with the “lover” possibly referring to Catherine). I can imagine Owen purposely trying to get under her skin by bombarding her with cheesy pick-up lines, which she pretends to hate but secretly loves.

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Catherine. I feel that having already been widowed once, Catherine would be very overprotective of her new husband. Gotta protect him from the melanoma! Also, I think women in general are more fastidious about things like skincare and applying sunblock? A lot of guys I know don’t give a fuck about sunblock because of perceived notions of “strength” and “manliness”, which is dumb because you will never be stronger than UV rays lol. But societal expectations regarding conformity to gender roles would have been much more enforced in the 15th century, especially for men like Owen. And sun in Wales compared to France? That man definitely didn’t apply sunblock without his wife forcing him to.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Hhhhhhhh. I find it hard to believe that anyone who does this would survive to adulthood lol (then again, my first flatmate did this and she’s still in the gene pool last time I checked). If I had to pick out of the two, I think Catherine would be the more likely to do this? Perhaps she accidentally left a fork in the microwave the first time she used it because she was a ~princess and a ~queen so was used to an army of servants doing everything for her. Owen, on the other hand, was her former servant so he’d definitely know how to operate a microwave properly.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

MY HEART. Tbh, I can actually imagine both of them being the first to say it? The little we know about Owen’s personality suggests he was rather bold and wasn’t just a meek and mild servant (well, he definitely wasn’t if he married THE QUEEN). And in Temple of Glas, he’s the one who gathers the courage to speak to Catherine. Personally though, I think Catherine was more likely to have told him she loved him first. There was a huge status and power imbalance between them, and I don’t think that some random Welsh servant could have gotten away with making romantic advances towards the Dowager Queen of England if he wasn’t sure of her feelings first.

As for how it happened, I assume it happened in private with no one else around? Perhaps it happened as Elis Gruffydd suggested, during a secret nighttime rendezvous with Catherine dressed incognito. In those circumstances, I guess there could be absolutely no doubt from either of them that their love was reciprocated <3

(The OTP ask meme is still open!)