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abrazimir · 1 year

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The image that people have of Boromir is so curated, but all of them are true to his nature in one way or another, they are all a part of him. To Lords, courtiers and scribes and the servants of the Steward’s house, Boromir is noble, calm, busy and distant but always courteous and practiced with polite smiles, it is not expected to see him in society or debate much, but when they do he is appropriate but focused, all know and respect his priorities and understand that he is always working to their interest. Of course, he has his detractors, especially amongst the more academic and faithful quarters of the nobility, and he is a polarising figure when it comes to more complex matters of both religion and society, but his foundational reputation is well solidified. He is an unshakeable stone of a public figure, he might as well be a stone in Minas Tirith’s walls rather than a person for the position he occupies in people’s minds.

To the Solders who fight with him, he is theirs, their warden to touch and to touch them back, fundamentally entrenched with them and beside them, heaving them out of danger as many times as they do the same to him, the leader of their murmuration, guiding their movements as though they were all one shifting body and yet so much a part of them that it is hard to discern that the command came from him at all. EXCEPT when it isn’t, except in the moments when their morale shakes, when their strength falters, when they need him most and flock to the sight, sound, feeling of him amongst them. The horn winds and the shockwave of it’s effects ripple through them and their enemy both. To Soldiers, Boromir is achingly open to them, they know him as a body, they know his blood, his raw flesh and his hands by touch, everything but his fear or despair. Soldiers may know Boromir’s grit, his brace, his grief and suffering better than even his family, but they have never seen him lost or irresolute.

To Boromir’s family, he is warm, often quiet and happy to simply exist within the lively conversations of others, but sometimes overbearing in opinion. He has a sense of what should be done, how things should be handled and expectations of people that can be high, especially for those eldest sons in other branches of the family. Still, it is not to the extent that he is an unwelcome presence in their gatherings and, whilst opinion of him varies greatly from relation to relation, all agree that he is loved and valued. He brings a reliable and restful quality to most moments, often only breaking his silence to say something that brings a laugh to everyone present, and has the effect of making his family want to divulge whatever is on their mind simply because he is there, quietly, willing to give his honest and reliable answer. He is the keeper of quite a few secrets and has never reacted dramatically to anything he is told. It is a remarkably similar position to Lothiriel’s reputation in the family, hence they often find themselves quietly sat together to begin their usual ponderous conversations.

To Gondor’s populace at large, Boromir is simply a hero. No more or less and with just the expected amount of elevation coupled with dehumanisation, he is a figurehead in it’s entirety, trusted and loved, perceived as the masculine ideal by especially the younger generations. Boromir is touchable to them too, but only in an almost beneficent way, his hand on their shoulder, his commiseration with their grief, his leadership of their communal struggle and defiance, he is both theirs and impossibly distant at the same time.

But to Theodred, Boromir sleeps. He is soft, weary and regretful, he is an open wound of guilt for all the death left behind him. He is wanting, something so incredibly at odds with every other iteration of Boromir that Theodred finds it nigh on intoxicating, inspiring too. The Boromir Theodred knows wants to live. He does not say it still, would never be able to voice it when, even to himself, wanting feels utterly incongruent with the person he is and has always been, but somehow Theodred and Boromir understand it within one another. The man Theodred holds wants to live, most particularly wants Theodred to live and restrains a very bitter anger that he cannot. But whilst that is perpetually true, he is also just a man who loves, he is tactile even as his body aches, he is talkative in a low and thoughtless way, saying whatever little thing comes to his mind, he likes to press his nose as deep as he can into whatever soft portion of Theodred’s body he can find, they communicate in wordless noises most often and, sometimes, he sings for him.

#;;boromircanon #ship: And even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me #about:gondor #IMAGINE BEING JUST MADE OF JELLY thats me

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eohere · 3 years

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So, Theodred's reputation does not recover from Grima's tampering. It went on too long and was spread too widely. Perhaps Grima was shown to be foul in the end, but by 3019 people have been hearing of Theodred's indolent nature and selfish ways from others too. They can’t weedle out all his spies and rumour becomes fact quickly. So Theodred's the first to abdicate. And it's angry and bitter too, he sticks it out for four years, he tries so hard to bring everyone together. But even if more people trust him, even if he has many fervent supporters, all he's doing now is causing more division.

So he abdicates and leaves sometime after seeing Eomer settled. He says he must go because he's still a divisive figure and it's better for him to not be there. But, actually, it is eating him from the inside out. It’s hollowing him, the weight of how much he had to sacrifice for a home that does not want or need him. He needs to be away. And so to Gondor he goes!

It’s the natural step, to crawl to where Boromir is when he is at a loss. But they cannot just start living together, the perception of them as individuals reflects back onto their families and governments, for a start. And that feels like it should still be important. So they both assume that norm and Theodred settles in at Merethond.

And it feels... oh it feels horrible, the necessary distance of concealment. It feels worse than it's ever felt before, when they're watching their families just indulge in weddings and healing and tending their gardens, children on the way. And they're still standing their solitary ground, kept apart. Which was easier when it was a universal struggle to be near loved ones, easier when the reason they had to maintain their reputations was trying to kill them everyday.

But now they're watching these children stumble into love with the ease and nonsense worries of the young, and they want to be happy for them, but all it's doing is turning them bitter and lonely and wanting. It's gutting too, that it feels like peace is making them into far angrier and more bleeding people than war ever did. They have expectations for themselves, positions both official and familial to perform, they were so READY to embrace this new world of theirs, but they just have less and less heart for it all.

They know something must change, but discussions about it seem complex and exhausting and ultimately hopeless for their goals. They don’t see a sensible solution.

And eventually, one night, Boromir just tells him to stay. Theodred is about to pull away and leave and Boromir feels like it’s breaking his heart. So he tells him he wants him to stay. There is no subtle way to leave the Steward’s rooms in the day, and Theodred reminds him as much, asks him what they’ll do then. Boromir tells him he doesn’t know and is too tired to care, just stay for now, just stay here.

And Theodred remembers the first time he heard Boromir want something so brokenly, and he feels a familiar coiling ravenousness rise up in him again. It's a little crueller this time, it feels a little flayed and raw and angry, but it's the same. And he realises it is right that this decision isn't carefully planned, it's right that Boromir wants him to stay and so he just does. It feels like the greatest relief in the world to just do something for Boromir’s sake alone, to just let himself spin entirely on Boromir's axis. And he feels a sense of foundation beneath his feet again, one that he hadn’t known he'd lost until Boromir gave it back. No, he is wanted, someone wants him, in an uncomplicated way, knowing all of him there is to know, he's wanted. He is not homeless.

So Theodred stays and they both agree, almost wordlessly, that they will just stop the pretence. No telling anyone, no worrying over it, what will be will be, they just want to find a place for them here, they have to stop fighting at some point.

#;;ship: and even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me #;;theodredcanon #bro you gotta listen... they're healing #SHH shh be quiet... they're healing shhh its a baby step

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aenngelic · 3 years

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I will protect her at all costs (chapter 2)

Disclaimer: please don’t hate me for it, if you don’t ship them please just don’t read it ok 🥲

contains: slow burn, Sniper falling in love with Kuon, Snipers view/thoughts, sexual fantasies, nudity, lemon stuff overall

It is a very long chapter I’m sorry

Note: please feel free to message me if you have certain romantic moments to include in the story! (Already running out of ideas oops)

It did not take long for us to find a bag of supplies. It was on a coffee table in some sort of lobby area. It seemed as if this building probably was meant to represent some kind of hotel, which I thought was a good thing, because that meant that there would be beds and showers to be found here as well. To our surprise, the bag contained mostly candy, which I wouldn't interpret as a balanced meal. However, the girl seemed to like this finding. It was only a matter of minutes before the chocolate residue stained the corners of my companion's mouth in a brown color. However, I preferred to smoke a cigarette at first and watch the girl devour her own body weight in the form of chocolate.

" This is fantastic! It feels like forever since I last ate chocolate! I faintly remember dieting before I entered this world too, so this must have been probably weeks since I held chocolate in my hand." Kuon said with delight. It was amusing to watch her enjoy sweets. Kuon's carelessness may be a burden at times, but her innocent character makes up for it.

" you partly remember your life prior to this, don't you?"

" Yes, not much to be honest. I'm sorry you can't," Kuon replied in a concerned voice.

"Tell me about it."

She gave me a visibly puzzled look before straightening her back so that she was sitting as straight as a candle on the sofa across from me, staring at her hands somewhat lost in thought. She seemed uncomfortable that I had now brought up this topic. Unfortunately, I could not take back my question. "Well," she began, "to be honest,the life I remember has not been the greatest, I guess." Kuon abruptly shook her head. " That's not true either. I was born into a rich family and had many privileges. My father owned a large company and had very high expectations of me from the very beginning. One day I was supposed to take it over. I was probably pretty lucky compared to other people. I was probably a big disappointment for him. My character was just not strong enough in his eyes. I also remember not really having any friends either, because I was privately educated. And anyway..." I could literally hear the lump in Kuon's throat as a tear began to stream down the girl's cheek.

" i'm sorry. You know, I didn't really mean to end up crying."

I felt my heart break once again, watching the girl grieve. I was surprised now, though, to find out that this yet seemingly uncomplicated high school student was actually carrying a lot of emotional baggage. I did not hesitate as I jumped up from my seat to calm the blue-haired girl. I really hated it like the plague when she cried. Trying to preserve my Coolness, however, I grumbled, "oh girl. What's wrong?"

I placed myself to her left, and pressed her against my shoulder while running my hand over her hair a few times. There was no way I could bring myself to face her, though. It would be too embarrassing and, after all, I was far from being the Prince Charming who would dry her tears with a silken tissue. Besides, I could not withstand the sight of her teary eyes. So there I sat, a weeping teenage girl wetting my blazer with salty drops of grief on my right, awkwardly staring off into the distance.

"It's, it's..." she stammered, not being able to form a word. "You're the first person I've been able to trust, and because of that, I'm kind of..."

She took a deep breath, "It makes me so unbelievably happy."

Almost for the second time that day, a cigarette nearly got stuck in my throat, but this time I was able to suppress my urge to cough. The girl seemed to really like me. But did I like her too? I would be lying if I said I did not care about her. And if she got killed, I could never forgive myself. It was astonishing how one could form such a strong bond with another person in such a short period of time. However, pouring out my entire feelings in front of her would not come close to the cool lifestyle I was pursuing.

" i'm also happy to have met you, Kuon.", i finally decided to answer after a moment of figuring out how to respond.

Kuon's face, which was still streaked with tears, started to smile again, which made me feel much relieved. However, it took her a while to completely stop her wailing . We remained in this position for a while, until at some point I realized that the girl had fallen asleep. Her head had lowered in the meantime even further toward the ground, so that after some time she was no longer leaning against my shoulder but much rather against my belly. When I noticed this after some time and looked down to the girl, a cute sight presented itself to me. Admittedly, on the one hand it felt nice to act as this girl's pillow. On the other hand, it triggered an immeasurable amount of embarrassment in me. But cool guys do like to take care of girls' comfort, don't they?

Therefore, I decided I'd rather not wake her up and hardly moved at all. I looked out the window to my right, watching the sunset and reflected on certain issues. I was thinking about Rika as well as the two girls we were trying to find and, of course, about Kuon and so many other things until my eyes started to close.

When I regained consciousness, the night must have settled in. Before I could even perceive my surroundings properly, I swiveled my head once to the left and once to the right and let my gaze wander through the room. Because the moon was particularly bright this night, everything around me had taken on a deep blue tone. It was so quiet around me that I could have heard a pin drop. In the next second I realized that I should not have fallen asleep in the first place. Somebody would have had to keep watch, after all! Crap! If an enemy would have come along the way, it certainly would not have been good for me and Kuon. I looked down to my thigh where the blue-haired girl was supposed to lie. I felt her place her head on my thigh at some point during the night, but when I looked down at my thigh, I could not find any girl. Where the hell was Kuon? A rational thinking person, as I was one, could of course assume that my companion did not necessarily have to be in danger, but could also have simply visited the toilet, for example. Nonetheless, my alarm bells started ringing immediately. Kuon was, after all, a young girl who, apart from the "rail gun", did not posses many possibilities for self-defense. So of course I was worried.

Without thinking much, I hopped up from the sofa, on which I had been napping a few moments before. In quick stride I wandered through the poorly lit hallway without really having a clue where I was heading. My head was foggy from the idea that the girl might be in serious danger. A few days ago, I probably would have accepted the fact that she was suddenly nowhere to be found and continued my journey. And now my stomach was already twisting at the thought of her getting in trouble.

Nevertheless, a short moment later, my heart pounding madly from the ever-repeating scenario in my head, I heard a noise at the end of the corridor. A soft, high-pitched humming was heard, drowned out by the pattering of many drops. Light emerged from the crack of a door on the left. Was she taking a shower? The feeling of relief spread through my chest, followed by some degree of annoyance. Why did the girl not wake me up? I took a few steps towards the door, but before I was about to reach for the door handle, I remembered that I should not do so. A gentleman never violates a lady's privacy. So I decided to wait.

I leaned against the local wall, one leg bent. Then I let my thoughts wander, while the pattering of the raindrops in the bathroom right next to me showed no indication of stopping anytime soon. A lady of high society must spend quite a bit of her life showering, I thought to myself. And before I knew it, the image of Kuon suddenly popped up in my head. In my imagination I pictured her body, wondering what it looked like completely naked. A bar of soap running over her plump breasts, leaving traces of foam on her soft, wet skin. A body swinging under the hot rainfall like a leaf in the wind, presenting its vivid buttocks. I wonder if she was shaved? Hardly had I been able to finish this dirty thought of mine and get mad at my filthy thinking when my ears picked up the sound of footsteps in the distance. And they were coming ominously closer.

Damn, I thought to myself and was about to reach for my rifle, only to realize that I forgot it next to the sofa where I had been sleeping. I had been so upset about her disappearance that I could seriously forget the most crucial item for our survival.What was I going to do? For a brief moment I was at a loss. Escape proved almost impossible at this point, since I was at a dead end and I could not force the approaching enemy down with any surrounding objects. Besides, if I escaped, it would only be a matter of time before the enemy would track down my helpless companion. In the next moment, almost instinctively, I reached for the door handle that led to the bathroom that Kuon had still claimed. Perhaps there were objects in the room that were suitable for fighting, or perhaps we could be lucky and not be found, I speculated in the heat of the moment. So I tore open the door and rushed into the bathroom, greeted by a hot haze that took over the entire area.

"Kuon!" I called out in a hushed tone.

Without hesitation, I pushed my way through the door that separated the shower from the rest of the bathroom as if I was walking through nothing. Until that moment, I had hardly given a thought to the circumstances of this situation. But at the latest, when finally the naked body of a schoolgirl jumped into my field of vision, I quickly realized this again. I was just about to violate Kuon's privacy. An obviously shocked girl looked towards me, that from 1 second to the other tried to cover herself desperately.

"Mr.Ma-", she was about to say, but I interrupted her raised voice by pressing my hand to her lips as quickly as possible.

While I was still in the act of stepping into the shower, I flicked the light switch in the same movement so that no sign of our presence could escape from the room. Maybe they would not find us here, I hoped at this point.

"There's someone out there," I whispered to the naked girl in front of me.

" if we are quiet, maybe we won't be found. If we are, then..."

Kuon replied to me with an unintelligible "Mmm" , which resembled the sound of a frightened gasp. My body had pressed so close to hers by now that I could feel the wetness of her skin soaking through my shirt. I had directed my face facing away from her so that I could sharpen my hearing for the footsteps I could hear. Furthermore , I did not want to add unnecessary tension to the whole situation. It was uncool enough to interfere with a naked girl taking a shower even if it was an emergency. My hand was still resting on her lips and even though I was wearing gloves and looking away, I could clearly feel the warmth building up in Kuon's cheeks. She was obviously blushing in this moment. But having her pressed against the bathroom wall while forcing my hand tightly onto her lips and not even keeping a distance of not 2 inches, I could not blame her.

For quite a while, we did not move at all. We listened closely to the footsteps, which came a little closer and finally slowly moved away from us again. Temporarily it was even so quiet in this bathroom that we could hear each other breathing. Kuon's breathing was fast and almost verged on hyperventilation in this situation. Because there was hardly any distance between our bodies, I could literally feel her chest rising and falling in short intervals. With each rise, her breasts brushed my upper body a slight bit. I tried, as always, to keep my composure and block out the fact that Kuon was completely naked. Only when several minutes had passed did my posture loosen and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, we should be safe for now," I stated and let go of the girl.

I flipped the light switch and had to swallow.

Kuon had been naked before too, but it was only now that the danger was gone that I could really comprehend this fact. She had tried to cover her breasts with her hands and had simultaneously crossed her legs, looking down with a shameful expression on her face. However, the concealment attempt seemed to be unsuccessful for her. Although I only caught a glimpse of her appearance before I turned away from her as quickly as possible, I saw her entire beauty for a moment.Her breasts were in relation to her otherwise so petite body, large and plump. She had a narrow waist and perfectly shaped legs, in combination with her smooth, fair skin. And so she shaved, I could still tell. What remained most imprinted on my mind, however, was the look on her face.I of course preferred to see her friendly smile a thousand times more than this face that expressed pure shame. But I could not help but adore the sight of her big sparkling dog eyes looking at the ground helplessly.

My breath stopped for a moment, but then I quickly cleared my throat, my gaze already averted from her, scanning the room for a towel. I tried to hide the fact that I actually wanted to slap myself for the thoughts I was having. Luckily, my embarrassment was not visible through the mask. I had to change the subject immediately before the situation became even more awkward:

"Sorry, Kuon." , I mumbled. I was surprised myself by my harsh tone. It took me a while to recollect the words.

"You should let me know next time you decide to go somewhere else."

"Oh yeah right. I didn't mean to cause any trouble.", Countered the girl who also seemed to be a bit embarrassed. So it wasn't just me who was feeling uncomfortable about this situation. Without giving my companion another look, I threw a towel right over my head at her. I had a precise aim.

" I'm going to get my rifle. I forgot it in all the hurry near the sofa."

Just as I was about to open the door to step out, the girl interrupted my process by grabbing my arm with unusual intensity.

" can you come back here afterwards? Please?"

"That's what I was planning on doing anyway. I'll be waiting right outside the door," I replied, a bit puzzled by this question.

" but I have -." she interrupted herself, shaking her head slightly before continuing.

Then her facial expression regained its former composure, whereupon she gave me her typical, beaming smile. I could tell, however, that she did not mean it honestly. How I could tell that, I had no idea myself though. But did she want me to stay here with her?

" no you're right. I'll hurry up and be done in a few minutes," she said. While she was talking, she wrapped the towel around her body in a quick movement, fastening it in front with the help of a knot.

I had meanwhile turned my gaze back to her. Although Kuon was now dressed, it was difficult for me not to inspect her from top to bottom. Her entire body was still drenched in a hint of wetness, so that her skin was reflectingthe bright bathroom light. It was also slightly red from the hot shower water. I wondered if the red tint to her cheeks was also caused by that, or if I was responsible for it.I could not help but notice the way the towel just managed to hide all the places it was supposed to cover and yet was far too tight. If she bent over, a special view would present itself to me. Immediately I dashed this disgusting thought from my head. If I continued to reduce myself only to her appearance this could end in negligence on my part and I would not be able to protect her properly.After all, that was the most important thing. I also discarded this thought. Had this strange girl really become so important to me? Nevertheless, there was no place for interpersonal relationships in this world.Before I could get any further into this train of thought, I turned away again and finally walked out of the room. I was in need of a cigarette.

#kuniper #kuon shinzaki #sniper mask #yuka makoto #high rise invasion #tenkuu shinpan #yuka makoto smut #yu chan #rika honjo #yuri honjo #sky high survival #sky violation #shinzaki kuon #fanfic

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facewithoutheart · 3 years

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Writer Tag Thing

Thanks @palimpsessed & @mostlymaudlin for the tags <3

Gonna tag @tea-brigade & @sillyunicorn & @martsonmars (even though you said you don't have enough fics to make one of your own, consider this my friendly internet hello)

How many works do you have on AO3?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

299,016, oh man I'm so close to 300,000! Gotta post something soon...

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

2, Harry Potter & Carry On (we are not counting my brief fanfiction.net period back when I was in high school because its embarrassing and I will pretend it never happened beside mentioning it here)

What are your top five fics by kudos?

A Crack In The Wall (Harry Potter)

The Wrong Sider (Harry Potter)

Dancing With Molly (Carry On)

A Christmas Pitch (Carry On)

Two Weddings, No Vows (Harry Potter)

Although it's really not fair to compare CO/HP fics because the fandom size is so different.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Almost all of them, because comments make the sick self-obsessed validation monster inside me squeal and I must prolong the feeling.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

"What Am I Now?" poor baby Draco, and it's even worse because it's meant to tee up the sequel to "A Crack In The Wall" which I find myself increasingly less interested in over time. Maybe I've stuck Draco in the eternal angst of not feeling good enough for Harry? Am I a monster? Eh.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Kind of? On my two most popular fics lol. One because the fic got on the Jily AO3 radar and people aren't always pleased with Drarry over there; the other was an accurate but unwanted dig at a scene of dialogue I wrote. Like, yeah, I knew the dialogue was clunky but I sort of made that a joke? Also my content is free so maybe leave your editor pants at home?

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I still consider my smut 'smut-lite' because I'm not super into graphic descriptions of body parts, and I'm still fairly new to the smut world. Mostly I like how two people experience pleasure through giving it. Also dirty talk.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not really.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I mean, probably Drarry to write, SnowBaz to read. As much as I hate JK Rowling her world is so fun to write in. But I prefer SnowBaz because they're just so soft with one another, and of the two couples I really relate to Simon and Baz.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

An AU where Simon and Baz don't get together at Watford, and Baz leaves for America. Simon discovers he's fancied Baz for ages and makes Penny take him on a trip to find Baz. It's called "The Real Plot AKA Seducing A Vampire" and it's just got some choice lines (which I'm sharing here because this is my game and y'all can leave if you don't like it):

"Penny’s staring at her phone like she’s accidentally matched with a goblin on Tinder (it happened to her once and I’ve never let her live it down) (not that I blame her; goblins are fit, and that’s a hill I’ll die on).

“What is it?” I ask, and, because nothing good ever happens to me, I add, “He’s not dead, is he?”

She shakes her head. “Worse.” Then, looking straight in my eyes, she shudders. “He’s… in Texas.”"

I just honestly can't see where the fic goes besides a delightful scene when Baz runs into Simon at an HEB and saves him from getting the half-and-half tortillas (butter all the way, baby).

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, humor. Mining my life for content and dressing it up in the excitement of someone else's world. Making anything and everything a sexual innuendo.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot, self-doubt. Falling in love with a piece and then waking up one day hating it, rinse and repeat until I want to cry. Posting something and then reading it over and over while being embarrassingly impressed with myself. Too many commas.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

Meh. Unless it's poorly translated Latin masquerading as a spell.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

No comment.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Honestly I love everything I've ever written and posted because I'm full of myself with no apology in sight. But gun to my head probably The Wrong Sider, because it accidentally captured a piece of my soul. Although I could read Chapter 17 and 20 of A Christmas Pitch every day until I died and never tire of it.

#writing #writing kinks

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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CSUAVS prt 33 update... I've been slowed to a crawl, but a cold, video games, allergies, and lack of no itch shall not stop me

Flying the fighter jet was a little lonely. Unlike the Telula, Keith's ship didn't have the same grav-hook system. The hooks they did have were for a smaller pod sized craft, not something with the curved roof and wide span of a fighter jet. Also, his ship wasn't as fast as the fighter jet, meaning he'd left them all behind quintants ago, carrying out the initial part of the plan alone. Zac had written a new program code that would calculate the time differences between the outpost and the planet they'd decided to land on to wait for him. With quintants passing during what would be vargas for him, it felt mean to keep his team confined to such a small space for what could possibly be a movement or even two with no contact. Reaching the entrance to the space that would lead him through to the outpost, Keith had managed to turn the movement long trip into two and half quintants. Taking a moment to stare at the unsuspecting area of space, he took a deep breath to calm his heart. In a few vargas he'd be taken in to custody at the outpost. In a few vargas he was either going to be reunited with Lance, or be the target of whatever nefarious plot was being schemed up. That police chief's cryptic message was still as cryptic as when he'd told him to look into his allies. Allies weren't his problem... Weird arse cults were his problem. Cults that should have died when the head was cut off... or when their second head was cut off. The more he thought about it, the happier he was to wait when it came to blow jobs... not that he'd force Lance into something like that, he just preferred being attached to his dick... Pushing forward on the control stick for the jet, Keith nodded to himself. If he stayed there then he'd never find the answers he and Lance had been searching for. * Landing in front of the outpost, the building was just as unappealing as it had been the first time. Standing in front of the landing space, several armed aliens looked extremely annoyed as they locked eyes with him. Well, Keith assumed they were trying to behind the jet's tinted windscreen. His approach would have been picked up by the outpost scanners and any outgoing signals, that might have made it out past the magnetic waves, were probably now jammed by the outpost. Lance had been the one who knew all of this personally, so without him there as back up, the half-Galra found himself taking everything Daehra and Zak said with a grain of salt. They'd told him that once the control room of the outpost had been captured, he'd be able to notify him over the success of his mission. They'd settled on three quintants for him to complete the mission alone, though that could change depending on what kind of condition Lance was in. If his idiot husband? was too badly wounded, he'd be upping that schedule... Even if that meant escaping without any new information and pissing Lance off in the process. Nothing they could learn was worth the life of the love of his life. Absolutely nothing. Climbing out the fighter jet, Keith raised his hands. He wasn't carrying anything weapon wise and would be relying on his own strength to complete his part in the part. Seeing him unarmed, the officers waiting for him rushed him. Two on each side as his arms were seized and his legs kicked out, his head hanging as he fought to control the impulse to fight back "What are you doing here?! Identify yourself" Identify himself? He hadn't expected that bit. Shoving a blaster in his face, Keith's head was forced up with the muzzle "It's him. The one who caused the trouble last time. Why are you here?!" If this was Lance, Lance would have some terribly witty line "I'm here to blow your outpost up" Raising the blaster out of his face, the man armed the weapon. Apparently he hadn't been witty by supplying most of the truth "We don't have time to deal with rats... Why are you really here?" "Sightseeing. You know, Leandro said this place has a fantastic view" Lowering the weapon, Keith's arms were twisted behind his back as the man brought a hand to his ear, turning away as he spoke into his hidden comms. After a few ticks of asking what whoever in command wanted done with him, anger formed on the man's face at the reply as he turned back to face the group "He's Leandro's friend from Daibazaal. The half-Galra, Keith. Cuff him. They want him in one piece. If he's here, then Leandro will come for him. They are rumoured to be involved" Keith's heart kind of soared, or maybe it have a sideways step and strong thump at the fact Lance wasn't there. But if Lance wasn't there, then where was he? If he was making his way out here, they should have run into him. Th'al's ship should have been picked up on the fighter jet's scanner... Was it possible they'd flown right past each other? Or had the sensors been damaged and not repaired by Acxa? And hold up... how did they know that he and Lance were involved? They hadn't exactly made it public... it was kind of an open secret on the Telula, and a Shiro and Curtis secret on the Atlas... because they both had no self control when they were drunk. After what had happened in the briefing, he doubted Krolia would put her foot in it further... Was this what the police chief had meant about their allies? That there was someone deliberately feeding information to whoever was after Lance? In that case, who? It wasn't his team. Ezor had a big mouth, but she also had a kind heart that she liked to hide deep down. No one on the Atlas had been out to this sector of space. Lucteal and Daehra seemed loyal to Lance... He really couldn't imagine either sibling spilling the gossip. Zac was... Zak. Lance had literally saved his life, and trusted him enough to allow him to design all the ship's security. After what he'd been through, Lance would have wanted to feel completely safe on the Telula. His fragile mental healthy wouldn't have been able to handle anything happening to his team. Th'al was an unknown, but Lance trusted her enough to be with her... so who was left? The three they'd dropped off at the rebel camp... and Tobias. Tobias was... simply there... and he wouldn't be simply there if Lance didn't trust him, same with the others... "Bring him to the cells. They want to monitor him. He's an excellent specimen of mixed genetics" Pushed and pulled from his thoughts, Keith got to his feet. His mind still firmly trying to figure out this riddle. He wanted to trust Lance's judgement. But the little voice in the back of his head decided it needed to pop up and remind him that Lance had been fooled by Klearo. He'd been tortured and... because he'd been too trusting. In that case, it could be anyone from the Telula... No... He and Lance had "broken in" before. "Involved" didn't necessarily mean "dating" it could mean "partners in crime", which they were... But thinking like that, wasn't that too hopeful? He didn't have any answers for all the questions in his mind, annoyingly, Shiro's words came to mind "patience yields focus". He was going to have to be patent, and hope that some kind of focus magically appeared because otherwise he was simply lost in the dark on all of this. Or maybe he could focus really hard in the cell and patience would magically appear. Either way, he should be happier than he currently was because Lance wasn't there with him. With a little luck this would all be over by the time Lance arrived, excellent specimen or not... plus, he had no intentions of playing the perfect and model prisoner should they go to lay hands on him in any experimental way. He doubted that the cells could hold him in, especially if there was a vent in the space, if they were using such low technology as manual handcuffs. Escorted through the front doors of the outpost, Keith couldn't help it as his mind dredged up the memories of the time he'd spent running through the halls in a blind panic with Lance. It seemed like a lifetime ago, yet at the same time, it seemed like only a hand full of quintants had passed. The half-Galra could almost hear Lance's voice in his mind as he screamed over the bloodied room and the man who'd torn his innocence from him. If the mission to find answers over everything wasn't so necessary, Keith would have been happy to throw down right there. He'd be more than happy to reduce the outpost to a pile of burning rubble, along with each member of staff currently inside. It was revolting to think that behind the doors they were approaching parts of aliens were tagged and bagged, ready to be shipped off to eager buyers all over the universe. Dragged to the front desk area where scans were normally performed, Keith jumped as he felt one of the men pull free a sample of his hair. Growling at the stranger only served to make the man laugh, before the leader of the group was grabbing him by the jaw and forcing his mouth open in order to shove some kind of swab inside. Biting down and resisting, the man delivered a hard jab against his sore ribs, Keith opening his mouth to gasp in pain which allowed the swab to be retrieved. "Make no mistake. Your status as a specimen is guaranteed, alive or dead" There was no room for misinterpretation in the man's cool tone. His words deadly serious as he passed the swab stick over to the officer at the desk. In too much pain to focus, he missed the question asked of him, his accidental lack of cooperation resulting in him being grabbed by the back of the head and having his face smashed into thick stone counter twice "Insolent scum. Take him to the back cell. They'll be here for him soon enough" With an aching head, a chest that felt like it was stuffed full of broken glass, and anger boiling in his blood, Keith grit his teeth together as he forced forward like a powerless fool. He could have replied, or thrown his mother's status in their faces, pointing out the fact they'd taken the son of the ruler of Daibazaal, but Keith liked to think he took the higher road by not giving them the satisfaction of a reply. None of any of this had to do with the fact his head was spinning as his stomach rolled, and if he didn't bite down the pain he'd probably throw up on his feet. No. He wasn't going to give them anything they could turn against him, or use to humiliate him further then the damn cuffs he was in. He'd watched and he'd wait, and when the time was ready, he'd do what needed to be done. ** Roused from his near nap state by Lance's wheezing cough Keith moved to kneel, his hand coming up to brush Lance's sweaty fringe from his forehead. His heart had sunk when he'd heard Lance's voice, at first he wasn't sure he wasn't hallucinating his lover's voice until Lance was thrown into the same cell as him. Having been left in the cold dark space, he'd spent most of his time laying on the thin mattress in an attempt to let his body heal as much as was physically possible before they decided to explore how good of a specimen he actually was. There was a small vent in the ceiling above the cell, but it was too high for him to climb up and unscrew alone. Plus, he had the feeling his shoulders wouldn't fit through the gap... His plan might have been ruined, if not for Lance's arrival, despite his desperate desire not to involve his husband. "Lance? Babe?" Coughing and gasping, Lance grabbed for him. Keith wincing as he took a finger to the eye. It was far too dark for Lance to see, even Keith's heightened senses were struggling with the inky blackness of the place. The red flickering light at the end of the hall only seemed to grow further the longer one stared at it "K-Keith? Oh god... oh... fuck... the what a fucking dream" Catching Lance's hand before it dropped back to his chest, Keith intertwined their fingers. The cold metal of the cuffs cutting into the tender skin of his wrist, but Lance needed something to ground him after a bad dream "I'm here. You've been asleep for around 2 vargas or so" It was a half a guess and half... intuition. The Blades would have once easily leave behind anyone running late during a mission, and while things had changed, Keith still found himself mentally keeping tabs on time without thinking "No wonder I still feel quiznak... fuck..." "Are you ok?" Grunting, Keith felt Lance rolling over, Lance releasing Keith's hand to do so. Was he ok? Not really. They were locked away in a cell awaiting being used for experiments until they expire or whoever was in charge of everything came for them "Me? Yeah, I'm alright. I was just thinking" "About what?" "How much of a dumb arse you are" Keith's words were filled with affection, having forgotten that everything was probably being recorded right now "I'm not a dumb arse. I had things handled until you crashed my mission" "I was here first" Lance sighed at him deeply "We are so not fighting. Here, swap with me. You should sleep" "Babe, you're the one who's injured" "Trust me, I'm not going back to sleep" "Want to tell me about it? Your dream, I mean?" "Right now the dream's to get you out of here in one piece. God. I do not want Krolia coming after me" Keith huffed in annoyance. Things felt... like two gears not quite aligned "You were coughing. Like you couldn't catch your breath" "Mmm. It's over now. I really wish there was some light in here" "Lance..." He wanted to pull him into his lap. He wanted to hold his lover tight and feel the heat of his warm breathing body against him. He'd missed him so fucking badly, and the moron had intentionally gotten himself injured. How could not worry? "We're being filmed, so excuse me if I don't want to talk about it and give them anymore ideas of what fun they can have. It's over. I'm awake. You need to sleep. That's all there is to it" Oh... "Ok. Ok. You're right. I just... it was a long phoeb and a half without you around" "Phoeb...and half?" Looking down to his lap, Keith felt... he felt confused by Lance's confused tone. He knew time had gone out the window for him, but surely he had to know it'd been a phoeb "5 movements, 7 quintants and a few vargas... Since you left... I thought about you the whole time..." "Are you sure?" "Yeah. How long did you count?" "I... uh. Thought it was about a phoeb. I kind of lost track of time for a while there..." Lance had lost nearly two movements... How did someone lose that much time?! "You lost track of time? How did you... you... where were you? We went looking for you... I went to Erathus looking for you..." "You went there? Oh man... is that how you wound up here?" "No. The chief of police wouldn't take me in. He was more concerned with you. Did he remind you of Bob?" "No. He always reminded me of Lotor... not that we really talked. He didn't exactly like me. Keith, were you serious about me being gone that long?" Keith didn't see Lotor in the police chief at all, other than his desire to kill the man "Yeah... It was... like losing Shiro all over again, but worse because it was you. We couldn't find you. I couldn't find you. No one had any news. I thought... I was sure you were going to be here when I got here..." Keith voice cracked with emotion, he'd been so lonely without Lance. So many things from his past had come flooding back. All the homes and people he'd said goodbye to. All the times he'd been passed on like he didn't have feelings. "I'm sorry" Lance's voice was low, a hand coming to rest on Keith's shoulder "No. I'm the one who's sorry. She had no right. I had no right. All of it makes me feel sick. I couldn't even look at her without thinking of you... I tried to ask myself what you would do, but I can't say I did good job" "She's your mother. She was looking out for you. I'm fucked up. Really fucked up. My head's all over the place... and I'm dirty. I'm so fucking dirty. I don't think I'll ever be clean, Keith... I don't know how you can be so close to me. I'm not a good person..." Something wet dripped on to Keith's hair, realising Lance was crying, he pushed himself up to sit on the side of the bed, the metal bar hard beneath him "Hey. No. No, you're the most important thing to me in this universe. I was so scared without you..." "I'm sorry. I know I handled it wrong. I know... but it hurt so fucking much... I didn't know what to do. Who to turn to. The voices in my head... it... I didn't want to fall back to the start of everything... but... I wasn't... I'm not strong like you are. I had a heat, and it hurt so much... I couldn't manage my medication. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was so mad at you for telling her. It was the one secret, Keith. One secret" "I know. Lance, I know. I'm so sorry" "I don't want to keep talking about it. Not until we're out of here... I told you we'd talk then... Can you move so I can get off the bed?" "I'm not getting off the bed. And you're not either... I've missed you so much"

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abrazimir · 1 year

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Boromir and Theodred don’t ask if they love their countries more than they love each other, they already know all the answers there are to that question and how they are all simultaneously true; “Yes”, “No”, “Which of the men within me are you asking?”, “It’s how I love you”, “It’s WHY I love you”, “You and she are the same”, “I am loving you as I love her”, “I wish I loved you more than her”, “I wish she loved me as you love me”, “I wish you were the only person in the world who knew I existed”, “Yes I have too, I’m so sorry, I have too”, “Yes, of course I love her more, I would never be so cruel as to love you that much.”

#about:theodred #ship: And even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me #;;boromir #SHHHH!!! I am thinking

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abrazimir · 3 years

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Here is a forever updating list of ‘fun’ arguments that Boromir and Theodred manage to keep hashing out for the entire 30 years of their acquaintance, many of which well predate them being in a romantic relationship;

- Where does a dagger go? Boromir, as a man who semi-regularly has to go to sea and engage in sea-warfare, keeps a dirk strapped to his chest so that if he is tangled in rope as his ship is sinking he can easily reach it and cut himself free. Theodred says this is pirate behaviour and completely unnecessary (if not downright absurd) all the rest of the time one is not on a ship. Which is a lot, he points out. Boromir casually holds daggers between his teeth at times just to irritate him.

- Lacing boots Gondor and Rohan already have widely varying makes for boots, including materials used to make them, but the pair still manage to find specific preferred ways of lacing, belting or binding their boots that they will fight to the death about.

- Sweet bread vs cake One of the cultural imports from Rohan into Gondor were heavy sweetened breads of various types. These were called sweet breads in Gondor. Theodred says they’re all cakes. Boromir can’t stand it.

- to write or not to write Now, this is an interesting one. Gondor is an incredibly literary country, every child is literate. Rohan, almost stubbornly, has refrained from even creating a writing system for their language and is entirely illiterate. Boromir and Theodred prefer the other’s way. Boromir will reminisce on how he’d bloody well prefer everyone just memorised things. Theodred will grind his teeth as everyday he prays he could just write one person a note.

- are swan knights bad riders? discuss Theodred is absolutely scornful of Gondor’s horsemanship and, specifically, the Swan Knights. Boromir consistently has to fight for the idea that the Swan Knights aren’t MEAN’T to be movable, its an entirely different kind of cavalry. Theodred remains frustratingly unconvinced.

- Is it good or bad to be named after someone? Boromir insists he likes the practice of naming children after their forebears or important people from history. Theodred, a man from a culture that seemingly never reuses names on purpose, thinks that’s absolutely bananas. Everytime they’re shot at he tells Boromir to be careful of that wasting disease. This dark humour makes everyone who gets it cringe, except Boromir, who’s very annoyed about how funny it is.

- Your country is a baby 'my country is 500 years old' a toddler. Boromir will call Rohan a child nation sometimes but only to annoy Theodred. ‘Barely out of the cradle’ he’ll say. Theodred will complain about the Thanes being particularly intractable or querulous and Boromir will say something to the effect of ‘Time for Rohan’s nap then’ and he’ll get hit.

- Was Numenor real? Are you sure? This is not genuine but at some point Theodred discovered that there are small but loud sections of Gondor society that believe Numenor didn’t exist and was a fabrication. Since learning this he has decided to pretend he believes them literally just to drive Boromir completely up the rails.

#;;boromircanon #;;ship: and even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me #about:theodred

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abrazimir · 3 years

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LISTEN!! all of you listen to me, 2 of the 110 days Boromir’s journey took, he spent within Theodred’s mustering camp just south of the Fords of Isen. And you need to listen to this, because you NEED to understand the mentality that Boromir brought to the Council of Elrond.

Boromir had been walking alone up until that point, he passed over Edoras, he didn’t want to meet Theoden or alert Grima, and he was walking away from his home and his duty after presiding over the most pyrrhic victory he’d ever known, fully aware that he could return to his city in ruins and his whole family dead.

And when he came to Theodred, who was gearing up to make his OWN last desperate attempt at defending his homeland, also expecting to fail and to fall, Boromir cracked. He asked Theodred to come with him, ‘this is the end Theodred, we will not win anything back anymore, just come with me this last time, as I seek some answers.’ Theodred said he couldn’t, of course, and Boromir nodded and smiled because he’d known that would be his answer. So he said; ‘then say what you wish to say'.

Theodred caught his breath and said ‘Stay here. If it's the end, stay here. Let’s see it through together.’ And Boromir said yes, so fast Theodred was at a loss. He asked, ‘You're ready to give in?’ and Boromir said ‘yes, finally. If you ask it of me.’ And there was a DAY where they just felt that together, wandered about the camp and made their plans and Theodred basked in it for a while. But later Boromir said 'I think you are about to do something cruel to me' as they lay down that evening. Theodred sat up to look at him and told him; ‘Don't give up. Not yet. You aren't ready for it, you are just tired.’

And Boromir agreed and wept as they settled into their comfortable tangle. And when they awoke in the middle of the night before the second sleep, with Theodred’s nose buried in Boromir’s throat, Boromir asked him ‘had it been worthwhile, the moments like this, had the quiet brief living been worth all the rest?’ Theodred had had to take a moment before saying his ‘yes,’ which he apologised for, ‘he'd gotten lost in memory of it all.’

Because it’s the end of this effort of theirs, this labour, it's the end to their quiet living. They've had all they will ever have of it!! And they have to accept it now, they have to speak it now. They've been through such a gruelling year, such a back breaking year that’s hollowed them out with how much loss they've had to just accept. And this is the last real biting loss, the one that makes them briefly falter, allows Boromir to say he'll stay and Theodred to allow him a little while. They knew it was coming but it’s still so sharp, it's still so devastating a blow to their dauntless resolve, because it is the acceptance that, no matter WHAT they do now, the possibilities of a future beyond this war don't exist for them. They exist because of them, but they are for others.

And god they have a rare moment, that hasn’t happened before, where they are angry. It hurts together, they're angry together, about how much they’ve had to give away for something they will never see. They grind out 'damn, I want to live' in this tone of black rueful humour that has them nearly laughing. They look like younger men when they cling to each other in the dark and tell each other ‘I wish I could save you’, and resent the world that means they cant, whilst being grateful for being able to wish otherwise.

Boromir thinks about everything Theodred gave him, the colour he gave, the real life he lived, how much more it had been than he’d ever expected, how much Theodred had made Boromir's life MEAN something to him, not just to everyone else. So that, in the end, he feels nearly privileged to want to guard it, to be jealous of losing it now.

Even in spite of it all, with only their characters, decisions and souls to consult on it, they still choose to part for the last time and to keep trying just a little longer. Because at the very end of it all they came together one last time and asked was it worth it? And it was. You and everyone else I've loved and the joy I felt in my home and in your arms, all of it it was worth the rest. You made it worth all the rest. And it will be worth this too.

And THAT is the mentality Boromir brings with him as he walks into Rivendell.

#;;boromircanon #;;ship: and even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me #Once again I am THINKING

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abrazimir · 3 years

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Anyway um.. Gondor doesn’t need to carry and transport ice from the white mountains much, farmers long ago created special freezing wells with air flow designs that kept all warm air out and cold air in, connected to underground aqueducts from rivers and mountain streams. So in debilitating height of summer ice treats are fairly common fair.

To be clear I thought of and researched this because Theodred spends time in Cair Andros and the heat would KILL him and the image of him spralled on a long seat on deaths door when Boromir presses an ice cold hand on the back of his neck to make him yelp then melt like he’s never been more relieved in his life is- GOOD! It’s very good. I think you’ll all agree.

#;;boromircanon #;;ship: and even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me #about:gondor #;;gondormeta

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abrazimir · 3 years

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When Theodred started looking really worse for wear by age 35 or so Boromir could NOT find a way to tell him how endeared he was by it, so he settled for;

Boromir: (thumbs down Theodred’s cheek) “Jowls in your thirties, hah, my old man.”

Theodred, not looking up: “Aye! I’m a foul and crumbling away old man.”

Boromir: “Yes, and mine.”

Theodred: ... (sigh) “And yours.”

It seemed to work well enough.

#;;ship: and even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me

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abrazimir · 3 years

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I understand that the meme you're asking for is not a general headcanon meme but also I want to read about your headcanons about Boromir's first kiss with Theodred so........ yeah. awgiwjbgm

Ask me Headcanons about literally anything - Always Accepting!

Listen... you asked this question and my head imploded with all the THOUGHTS I have to share so I’m going to try and pair down as much information as possible (even though I deem it all VITAL)-

A lot... happens... between Boromir and Theodred before during and after Eomund’s death (so through their 23-24 yo years). What’s important to understand is that the ‘realising feelings’ part was not that difficult. They were very important friends for each other long before anything else. Boromir knew he was in love with Theodred early on, but Theodred realised he was loved back first. And there was about a year of time where they both silently, quietly, and with some sardonic bitterness, knew the other knew.

Because the issue they actually- ahsd damn fuck there is SO MUCH in this that you need to know, it’s tied to this sense they have of not being made for joy, they weren’t made to succeed, they were here to try, they are made to defy the undefiable and lose because no matter the end, their people and these living homes of theirs deserve to be fought for, it’s an understanding that silently connects them, that they both do accept and they find it deeply aggravating and exhausting for people to claim it is otherwise- it’s still all about love for them, it’s all true, they’re happy to do it, they would have chosen these roles if they could have but!! But that drives them into these personas and mindsets of self sacrifice and somewhat mmm young concepts of hopelessness and effort-

The point is that the difficult part was getting to the point of agreeing that this thing between them, that would be just for them, was worth pursuing, was possible and that such a thing was meant for them. Over the year and during Eomund’s death so much happens and there’s this undercurrent that specifically for Theodred is... a kind of slow angry grief, that he wants this but it would just be adding to their obstacles, that BOROMIR wants this- it’s hard for him.

BUT GETTING TO THE POINT, in midsummer of the following year Theodred comes to the festival at Minas Tirith at the Steward’s invitation (and Theoden’s encouragement, Eomer and Eowyn had to have his full attention and Theodred’s presence was as yet not a fully comfortable one for the two children) AND... Boromir had done this before, but Midsummer requires much more elaborate dress and Boromir had an outfit made for Theodred, in his colours, fitting him and his comfort, and he met him at Minas Tirith’s gates and they hadn’t seen each other a great deal since Eomund’s death and there’s a PAUSE to see each other that neither of them acknowledge and Boromir takes him up to Merethond and they get talking and Boromir shows him the garments he had made and Theodred tries them on and Boromir pulls on the waistband and collar to make sure it sits on him properly and Theodred has a look to him of withheld gutting frustration and- god, under the cut.

And in that moment Boromir thinks to himself ‘I’m going to fix that’. Good decisions are easier to make when it’s for the both of them and there’s a right kind of defiance that he feels when he nears this decision, a galvanising excitement, and when Theodred asks him what he thinks to break the silence, Boromir tells him he is handsome in a tone he’s never used before.

Theodred turns to look at him and he can't look at Boromir without being IN THEIR WORLD with him, in their language and the flow they have together and Boromir's smiling at him, confident, so even if his smile's still a little painful, he looks at Boromir in his own celebratory garb that he wears so confidently and tells him he's handsome too. Which gives Boromir an expression that Theodred likes too much and that neither of them are turning away from, but Theodred’s still got a scowl in the silence before he breaks it.

"No longer ‘unspoken’ then."

"It still is, in technicality."

"I don't see the difference."

"Was it so different before?"

And Theodred can’t help the quirk of his lip and the hand he brings down onto Boromir’s chest that he doesn’t take back. "Glibness doesn’t suit you, be serious, we won’t walk away from this unscathed."

"I am not intending too."

And Theodred is caught by that, a small "Oh." escapes him. Boromir waits but Theodred can't get the words out he's just... looking at him, trying to puzzle through Boromir’s mind. So Boromir takes in a breath and;

"I wanted to kiss you at the gates."

He says with an ease born of relief, just to say it out loud, Theodred's hand is still on his chest and his own covers it and holds it there.

"Am I allowed now?"

Theodred doesn't quite reply before Boromir's leans in. He’s not cautious, he tilts his head and pushes into Theodred’s space and his hand strokes up and over Theodred’s stubble like a man who’s been thinking about doing nothing else for a long long time. Theodred is still, partly on instinct and partly because he is too focused on seeking intent in Boromir’s eyes. But when Boromir pauses, their lips an inch apart, those instincts are gone. And all he can do is relax, mindless and focused, shaking his head in incremental disbelief as his hand on Boromir’s chest fists tighter into his coat.

“You- brave, reckless fool.” He barks in a release of nerves and laughter.

“Yes, finally,” Boromir says in an answering breathless laugh.

They meet in the middle. It is brief, awkward, they orientate, hands stuttering before finding strong, comfortable grips on one another, Theodred’s fingers find Boromir’s curls at long last, he’s been pining after them for too long to let go once they pull away for the first time.

The first rasped question that comes to mind is, “... Did you know… I would-?”

“No, not really.” Boromir answers.

“... Fuck.” Is really the only appropriate response.

“What do you think?” Is asked next.

And there is a great deal he should be thinking about, but all that’s filling his mind is Boromir’s voice saying ‘I wanted to kiss you at the gates’. And it might not be new and he might have thought it himself before, but it’s so meaningful for them both to admit a want. It’s so vulnerable. Theodred hears it with such love, he feels suddenly like he's holding something precious and fragile, secret knowledge of a moment when Boromir wanted. He's heard Boromir want before but those were different, this is just for them. And- god that really activates him in a vital and ferocious way, he wants to hear more, wants to want and admit it. It makes him feel positively ravenous for it, for more moments of Boromir wanting. So he says;

“That I’ve never wanted to think less. Not yet, come on-.”

This kiss is longer, exploratory, and something to easily get lost in. A relief. Eventually Boromir’s back is against a wall and both princes are dishevelled with wanting grasping hands. Theodred has to laugh, more confident, invigorated. This has tapped into his bitten, fierce determination, this dogged manner he has where if he’s grasped something then he’ll get it done. He suddenly has living, breathing energy.

“I feel so bloody young.” He grumbles, because he does. And he can’t remember the last time he felt this kind of nervous fluttering discovery.

“... We are young.” Boromir breathes eventually, between his near panting breaths.

That isn’t so funny, just too true, despite how false it feels. How it almost rankles them both to acknowledge, considering all they had seen and done and been. All the dead boys and men they’d shucked to become men that were needed. What on earth was young reckless action doing appearing to them now? And yet it’s also right because… their youth has always belonged to each other.

As a thought it sobers them enough to give everything space to breathe. BUT THAT’S ENOUGH!! Oh my god!! This isn’t even finished- fuck, I suppose Skells has the right to make me show my whole ass like this, goddamnit, anyway.

#;;ship: and even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me #mercysought #;;asks #;;drabbles #asks #;;boromircanon

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abrazimir · 5 years

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starters from PROMETHEUS BOUND by aeschylus ||| Accepting @shieldarm sent: “you can be softhearted.” (is théodred just out of earshot ?? probably)

Theodred was five and a half paces behind him, just a little to the left, just close enough to hear his dark laughter but not enough to hear why, just one turn and five and a half strides away.

Which was fine. The blazing fire pits at Meduselde’s centre chased away every single chill Boromir had acquired on the road. The sensation of the heat beating against his cheek was almost reminiscent of midsummer in Anorien, when those plains would truly earn their name as sage filled the air. No sage here in this Rohir winter but the seasoned applewood logs were fragrant enough and making him even drowsier than when he’d first arrived not two hours ago. Too drowsy by half. He would have to wait until tomorrow night to tell Theodred about that song he’d heard the last time he passed through Arnach, and Forlong’s revised version too. A shame, he would have laughed better.

But that was still, fine. Grimbold was getting steadily drunker in front of him and the lady Eowyn. As he usually did! Before they rode abroad. It was a humorous diversion in particular because Grimbold had a pleasant voice but a foul tongue. Very funny, even if Boromir often had to quench the urge to steer Eowyn away as Grimbold’s recitals became ever more blue the more mead he drank. Theodred would know it too and no doubt take great delight in Boromir’s silent inner moral and cultural dilemma… if he just wasn’t five and a half paces away.

The annoyed tension in his chest was stalwartly ignored. It had been ten years already, they weren’t melodramatic young men anymore! Moping over- what? Lack of attention? Affection? Absolutely not. He was just tired, he reasoned, and the usual routine for his arrival in Edoras had been broken this time. Lead up to the halls and presented to the King, instead of Theodred meeting him at the gate so they could meander that way themselves. They were creatures of habit, that was all it was.

The disgruntled sigh he gave was not very loud or large, but obviously still too exaggerated for the Lady Eowyn to not notice. Her glance up was enough for Boromir to meet her gaze. What a gaze, just eighteen and yet already bearing such a stare. He opened his mouth to answer her silent query with a usual easy half truth,

“I am only road weary, Eow-”

His focus was snatched away mid-sentence, there was that laugh again! Sardonic and repressing and grim. He saw Theodred standing in a circle of Thanes with his father and that new advisor of his opposite him. It all set a concerned and frustrated tension to Boromir’s jaw, but he flicked back to Eowyn as soon as he recalled himself. Not soon enough.

Something complex passed over Eowyn’s features, something Boromir could not decipher. She looked Theodred’s way too, calculating. Grimbold’s chattering continued over them but he seemed to know that he’d lost his audience. And so no others saw the White Lady touch the cuff of Boromir’s tunic, nor heard her pensive but decisive advice, words that brought him up short, his brow arching just a little, squinting.

“You can be softhearted.”

There is a pregnant pause. She holds his gaze admirably as he frowns at her, trying to judge what is transpiring in this moment between them. In the end he can find no answer other than the obvious.

There were… many questions that passed through his mind, along with the little wearied and boring panic that he tried to stifle. How long she had known; had Theodred told her; what would she do; had she told anyone else? And he could not deny the doomful weight to his stomach at all of them. But once his catastrophizing was done and he had visibly forced his muscles to untense, the more pertinent question came to the fore; what did she mean?

“... And why do you say that, My Lady?” He asks in an attempt at casual inquiry.

And, even if there is no malice to it, she looks at him like he’s a fool.

Perhaps he is, he concedes. What had they said to each other, so long ago? I want to take heart in you, we can bend for this. Just this. He felt at times he’d spent all the softness his heart could give on that one concession to his austere drive. What would he do, if he had it all back now?

Detach from Eowyn at this moment, most likely, give Theodred a clap to his shoulder as he passed.

And when he eventually followed him to his room, Theodred would find him asleep, sat up on that cushioned seat but turned for him to drop against his side. And he’d awaken and Theodred would grouse over his late arrival and he would reply that ‘if you only kept the roads better...’ which would allow them to replay that argument for what might be the fortieth time but pretending to care as if it was the first just so that he could hear Theodred’s taunts in answer to his own jabs. Until he was just too tired and Theodred would call him an old man as they both staggered to stand and he would tell him he had a song for him and Theodred would say, ‘Tell me tomorrow’ in that edging tender tone he had and then- stars- to sleep! Thank all fates for the winter when his own body heat was a blessing not a curse and they could settle into their proper practiced tangle. Theodred wouldn’t remember to tie his hair, Boromir would find it in his beard before morning.

The sudden sense memory hit him so hard he had to blink it away. The unruly yawning yearning that came with it was not dismissed so easily. He tried to return Eowyn’s somewhat exasperated expression but something demanded he look Theodred’s way once more, perhaps they could do that.

But a single eyeful of the new black-haired, black-minded and suspiciously shadowed man at Theoden’s side reminded Boromir of why they definitely could not.

Why was it that, even as the world and his priorities demanded his feelings mellow, they only grew all the more poignant? That Theodred’s absence in his mundane everyday had only grown more painful with time? The nature of love, he supposed, in defeat.

And so he finally broke that dreadful silence he’d left Eowyn in with another strangled sigh, dragging a hand over his beard as he spoke a very poor reply. “Not today, not this time.”

#;;asks #tumblr user shieldarm was like 'we're gonna give the erran exactly what they want'#and then she did!#I cannot tell... if this is very bad and agonisingly expositional or not #I have been sitting with it for days so HERE I was my hands of this #about:eowyn #about:theodred #ship: And even though this life this love is brief I've got him to carry me #shieldarm

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