#the-accursed

[jvstanothernormal-blog]

@the-accursed

“You know your face? It’s all bluuueeee...”

She’s mildly concerned.

[algrimthestrong]

"I almost feel an apology is in order and yet-- it's never quite been my style. How is Nastrond, by the way?"

If someonehad told him that he would meet his end on the frozen fields of Niffleheim,cast into the selfsame hole the Accursed hadclimbed out of, Algrim the Strong would have dismissed such warnings as idlethreats. Yet here he stood, eyes lowered to the frozen ground in abject horror,listening to spiders chittering and mandibles clicking. His tongue came out to tastehis lips, meeting skin as dry and brittle as parchment. The wind was harsh andunforgiving, whipping his hair into knots. Though it was not the bite of thecold that stung the most, nor was it the notion of serving a sentence inMalekith’s stead. Or Waziria’s.

Too late had he come to realise that he’d been but a tool to his lord. A tool thathad outlived its usefulness. A lifetime of loyal service had earned him naughtbut scorn and mockery, leaving him a broken shell of his former self to be discarded and replaceduntil his successor, too, would be damaged beyond repair. Body drained ofstrength and mind torn asunder by bleak despair and hopeless resignation, a feebleshake of the head was the only response he could muster.

[algrimthestrong]

//This is a little something I wrote for @the-accursed who is having a rough time dealing with incompetent doctors and a longtime illness. Stay strong, dear. Ilu.//

The sun peeked its golden head over the horizon, bathing the quiet land below in mellow shades of rosy pink and powdery blue. Birds were chirping their merry song, welcoming the new day as if trying to convince the realm’s citizens that all was well and the atrocities of war were but vestiges of a bad dream, slowly dissolving in the morning mist. Yet, the calm that lay over Alfheim was deceptive. There was a sense of quiet dread in the air, an aura of dark foreboding that rolled in with the breaking of dawn.

It was the day of the Accursed King’s wedding.

As it was often the case in the morning, the king’s hair was a stubborn, tangled mess, and it fell to his advisor to ensure that the soon-to-be ruler of all elves was in impeccable shape for the coming ceremony. Pale brows tensed in concentration and lips pinched into a thin, tight line, Algrim ran the brush through Malekith’s hair, relishing the way those silky soft tresses feathered over his palms with the languorous grace of a lover’s caress. He could not help but marvel at the delicate nuances of colour, ranging from the shimmering white of freshly fallen snow to the ethereal silver gleam of starlight.

No words were passed between them, and none were needed. Algrim worked in silence, combing out the knots and tangles with unwearied diligence. Every now and then, he looked up from his work to meet Malekith’s gaze in the mirror. The marriage, he knew, was a means to an end, a mere charade. A forceful takeover disguised as a consensual union - and yet it was a far more preferable solution than having to watch the Accursed slaughter his way to Alfheim’s throne.

Algrim set the brush aside, gently gathering Malekith’s smoothed-out tresses in his hands before dextrous fingers were parting the glossy curtain of hair to divide it into three sections. Starting at the crown of Malekith’s head, he began braiding the king’s hair with practised ease, deftly weaving the lustrous strands into a long, sleek braid which he then proceeded to tie off with a ribbon of black velvet.

After taking a moment to survey his handiwork with a critical eye, Algrim nodded for Malekith to rise. “Well then, I suggest you be on your way, Sire.” Smiling, he reached out to tuck a stray wisp of pale hair behind one blackened, pointed ear. “You had better not keep your bride waiting—” his tone was sharp with sarcasm, “—lest she fall out of love with you.”

[meandthewarriorsthree-blog]

captured

Starter call for @the-accursed Sif hauled herself to her knees as best she could with her hands bound behind her back, flung before the dark elf. She spat blood at his feet, her eyes dark with hate and anger. She had thought she was taking all the necessary precautions when entering his territory on a scouting mission, but it seemed it was all for naught. "Malekith," she growled his name, though fear had her sweating underneath her armor. "I am honored you would deal with me yourself."

[algrimthestrong]

@the-accursed / Continued from here.

the-accursed:

Kicking his feet over the side of his throne, Malekith flashed Algrim a devilish smile, “What use can they be, Algrim, save keeping their Queen company in her moment of need– and generous as I may be, such a notion contains too much sentiment for me to entertain.” With a lazy flick of his wrist, and a burst of scarlet light, a goblet materialised in his hand, that he went on to take a lengthy sip of Alfheim’s finest wine from. “I am King of both the Elven Realms now– two servants are of little consequence now”

Algrim cleared his throat quietly. “I think you might have misunderstood me. It is not the heads I disapprove of, but their placement. You just said it yourself - you now have the entirety of the Elven nation under your command. If you ask me, the head of a servant may make an adequate adornment to a broom closet, but to the throne room?” Algrim shook his head, tutting softly.

His gaze then drifted to the goblet that had just materialised in the king’s hand, silver brows lifting in alarm. “Isn’t it a little... foolhardy to consume that concoction? I vividly remember the day you returned from Alfheim complaining about allergies and whatnot, and now you decide to drink their wine...?” His tone was gently chiding. “That does not seem like a very sensible thing to do, Sire.”

[vesallkyn-a]

-casually posts shitty photoshop jokes here with no explanation-

@the-accursed, @itakemyselfsupercereal

listen to this for best effect: X

[the-ever-changing-mask]

‘ There’s no smoke without fire. ‘

“And you’ve followed the smoke right back to me.....delightful.”  He snapped closed the spellbook he had been idly perusing and set it aside, emerald eyes raking across Malekith’s body with an amused smirk. 

“I have missed your....diabolical company, dear Malekith.”