#elvish-sky asks

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

astarion ancunin hcs {pt. 1}

once he's comfortable with you, he adores non-sexual physical intimacy

playing with his hair will calm him down almost instantly

he's protective and possessive, so he'll keep a hand on you at all times, usually on your back

loves when you initiate any kind of physical contact

always asks to do something before he does, in either a sexual or nonsexual context

he's easily jealous and can sometimes get very possessive; for the first time in 200 years, he has someone who genuinely loves him and he hates the possibility that he might lose you

that possessiveness is obvious when he marks up your neck with bites and hickeys

if he feels like his place in your relationship is threatened in public, he will not hesitate to touch, hold, or kiss you in front of whomever is making a move on you; after some bearing of fangs, whoever it is usually scuttles off very quickly

he definitely feels very undeserving of you and your love and has his days when he's convinced you're going to leave him for someone better when you get the chance, or that he's keeping you from; that insecurity lasts for a very long time

constantly buries his own feelings, so you have to coax them out of him and teach him how to set boundaries and stand up for himself

astarion absolutely LOVES bathing together; he can be very vulnerable with you without sex being expected when you bathe together and it absolutely helps him regain some control and bodily autonomy

he loves gifting you things: jewelry, clothes, weapons, little knickknacks he sees that remind him of you

his elven ears are so sensitive and he absolutely will whine involuntarily when you brush your fingers over them (either on accident while you're touching his curls or on purpose)

speaking of which, astarion loves having his hair played with, it's a huge comfort to him (and another form of physical touch that isn't inherently sexual, so it's one of the ways to ease him back into being intimate and physical)

sexually, he's very switchy; some days he wants to be in control and giving you all the pleasure you deserve, but other days he's more than happy to let you take the lead and love on him

he loves staying up late to have deep talks and watch the sky (sun or moon and stars, it doesn't matter which to him)

cuddle this man. all the time. he's absolutely a cuddle bug. if you don't cuddle him while you go to sleep, he'll be very huffy, and you'll wake up to him curled up around you anyway

he also likes to be the little spoon sometimes, once he's comfortable with you seeing and being wrapped around his back

he will sew everything for you instead of teaching you to do it; he likes being useful in some little way for you (inspired by @aethes-bookshelf's post here because I saw it and went "you are absolutely right")

he commonly speaks to you in Elvish whether you understand it or not; it's absolutely a comfort to him, especially when you start picking up words and understanding some of what he says

contrary to the performances he puts on, astarion is a very gentle lover when he can finally be comfortable and genuine with you. he's quieter, softer, he takes the time to learn you and himself, he lets himself enjoy it; he learns to become a taker, not just a giver

he likes to hold you, however he can, and at the very least always be touching you. an arm around your waist or shoulders, a hand on the small of your back, holding your hand or twining your pinkies together. he can't be touching you, he's standing so close to you that he could be touching you if he moved a centimeter more

he likes to hug you randomly; one of his favorite ways to do it is to come up behind you while you're cooking or talking to someone or looking at yourself in the mirror to get ready so he can surprise you by putting his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder

astarion has a habit of kissing your neck whenever he can, sometimes it's a way to let you know he's hungry, other times when he wants to be intimate, other times just to remind you he loves you

on the same hand, he doesn't always say 'i love you' but instead makes it known through his behavior around you (and the fact that he's constantly looking at you like you are his whole world, because you are)

on the nights when you can't sleep, he reads to you until you drift off because he knows you find his voice soothing

he likes tucking his head into your neck and shoulder when the two of you sleep (which he finds out he actually likes doing every now and then)

the first thing astarion does when he wakes up is pepper you with little kisses on your shoulders, collarbones, cheeks, and forehead

when he's nervous and with people he's okay with knowing that, he'll reach for your hand and touch your fingers to calm down and ground himself. if you wear a ring or multiple rings, he'll play with those

astarion loves it when you call him by a nickname, either a shortened version of his name or a pet name. if he's fed recently and had enough blood, his cheeks will turn this adorable shade of pink when you call him "Star" or "my love" or something similar

how he wakes up from a nightmare changes constantly. the worse the nightmare, the worse his reaction when he wakes up. sometimes it's just a little gasp and his eyes flying open, sometimes it's a yelp and tears, sometimes he's crying before he even wakes up; but every time, his biggest comfort is to cling to you until the panic fades and then curl up in your lap (you've learned to light a candle or summon lights with magic when he wakes up from a nightmare; the shadows make him feel worse)

when you fall asleep outside of bed, he picks you up and carries you to bed and tucks you in—all without waking you

if you are injured at any point and there is no certainty that you'll pull through, he panics. he stays at your side the entire time, even if the smell of your blood is driving him mad, and holds your hand and talks to you, often begging you to wake up, to come back to him, to stay with him; more than once, you've woken up to find him with tears streaked down his face

every time you wake up from an injury and he realizes it, either because he's watching you or because you say hi to get his attention, he smothers you in kisses

once he's no longer starving, he likes to feed from you very slowly, to take his time and enjoy your taste; now that he's promised food, he doesn't feel the need to rush. feeding becomes very sensual, intimate, and personal for the two of you after that

he also loves leaving bites and drinking from you in places the others won't see; it makes him incredibly giddy to know that you let him bite you in places only he will ever see

if he's taller than you, he loves to kiss the crown of your head whenever he can

he will sew up your injuries whenever you need his help with it, even if the sight and smell of your blood makes him salivate

he loves touching your body to see how you react and lets you do the same to learn his own likes and dislikes

matching. outfits. he loves it, loves seeing people realize that you wear the same material and colors and realize what it means. he's very smug when people come to the realization that you're together

he frequently gives you his shirts to sleep in

if you are apart from him for any amount of time, expect to be tackled with a hug the minute you are reunited again

when you have the time, he likes to just lay in bed with you and relax together, half-asleep and cuddling and sometimes mumbling to each other pt. 2 coming soon

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldur's gate astarion #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #fluff #angst #astarion fluff #astarion angst #neil newbon #astarion neil newbon #astarion hcs #case's headcanons #astarion ancunin

[dearsnow]

THE MOON WILL SING

- the moon hums a tune only elvish ears can pick up. (legolas x gn!human!reader, fluff, idk if you guys will be able to understand the symbolism but it makes sense to me…)

word count: 576

a/n - this is my first legolas piece :) it’s not the quality i would like it to be, but i came out of a writing slump not too long ago so 🤷 it is what it is <3 much thanks to @minaturefics for inspiring this 💕

For once, the night is peaceful. The birds are chirping, as are the crickets, and the trees are swaying to their tune. There are creaks and chitters, crackles and buzzes and the occasional snore from the fellowship sleeping so close to you. The forest is alive, and it is the greatest thing you have ever heard. The melody is softer than music and louder than thunder, existing in a sort of beautiful in-between. The world is perfect, you think. Nothing can compare. And, of course, the world gave you the elf sitting quietly next to you.

“Could you not sleep either?” You whisper, not wanting to disturb the woodsy strums filtering through the wildlife around you. Legolas shakes his head.

“It is a heavenly night.” He whispers back. “It is times like these when I can hear the moon sing her quiet song.” His figure is illuminated by starlight, casting his features in an otherworldly glow. In that moment, he looks ethereal. He picks a fallen leaf between his fingers and smoothes it with a gentle touch.

You look up at the sky, and he looks at you. “What is she saying?” You ask. 

He takes a breath, his words forming clouds in the air. “Something joyous in words I cannot begin to understand.” He places the leaf down, grasping your hands in his. “She tells me something, in thought.” He murmurs, looking deep into your eyes. His own are like pools that forever draw you in. “She tells me that I love you like her.”

You are stunned for a moment. You know he likes you, as you do him, but love is another thing entirely. It is something you feel in kind, though you have not found the words to express it until now. You grip his hands back, searching for something to ground you in this moment. All you can find is soft palms and the stars urging you forward. “And I love you like the sun.” You choke out. There is something so beautifully tender in his gaze. “You may ask the sun in the morning, though. I am sure they will say the same.” He laughs gently and quietly, a melodious sound.

“I will be sure to.” He reasons. He reaches out to cup your face in his palms. “You must rest, meleth nin.” His fingers swipe over your cheekbones.

You hesitate. “I would not want to on this comely night, unless you slept as well.” He squints at you, the action just barely visible in the night.

“I need not to, though I will lie with you if that is what you wish.” He smiles. His smile is one you have adored since the moment you met him. You have adored him since the moment you met him, and this midnight interaction is proof enough. There will never be another being so suited to you as he.

“I wish it.” You say quietly, tone hopeful. He nods just once and wraps his arm around you, slowly pulling you down to the plush forest floor. 

You stay like that for a long time, with his touch sending fire through your veins as his breath lulls you to sleep. The swaying forest and the beaming moon look down on you. Though it is too hushed for you to hear, the moon will always sing her song to deaf ears. And, of course, Legolas will always be there to sing it to you.

Taglist (misc): @skeletonfromthecloset

#solar eclipse. #legolas x reader #legolas greenleaf #legolas #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #lord of the rings #lotr imagine #lotr #lotr x reader #lotr elves #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x y/n #lotr fluff #lotr fanfic #lotr fic

[not-so-lost-after-all]

Moments before the disaster

Astarion and Tav having supposedly the last chance to have some fun time together AKA the missing opportunity to go on a date.

Inspired this amazing piece by the talented @lirotation This is not your Amaara but I hope you don't mind ;)

Tagged: @spacebarbarianweird

***

His heart was lighter, she knew. It's been two tendays and something since he gloriously murdered Cazador, that prick who ruined his life, and they both were giddy. Amongst all the violence around, it was perhaps the only comforting thing, Esipre thought.

They both knew it's only question of time before he'll have to return to the shadows - if they survive at all - and they had an unspoken deal to make the most out of it.

They made love almost every night and sometimes it felt like her legs are shaped around his hips and her breasts were always sore. "He would make a fine consort if you're the type to be addicted to dick," Minthara raised her eyebrow and Esipre just shook her head and laughed.

She gave him her blood once, the most she could effort. As always it felt like falling into the cold water and then heatwave thanks to his touches. Her eyelids were already heavy when he kissed her and he tasted like smoke and brandy and the iron in her blood. She rolled her hips and sighed when he filled her up and then Astarion whispered something in elvish while brushing her chin and neck with his lips. Sometimes she woke up to him curled around her like a cat. One morning she watched the first rays of sun coming through the window and through the tip of his pointy ear before waking him up by kissing that ear.

The two of them were always the last to go to sleep and the first ones to get up, just shortly after sunrise.

But the time was almost up. Tomorrow or the day after that, she thought. Their merry band was well prepared and Esipre tried to keep their spirit high the best way she could. She was strangely calm about what they're about to do, she wasn't more sure about anything in her life.

When Astarion asked her about it, she shrugged. "Of course. But being afraid was never of any use to me. I'm done running."

"That's my girl," he grinned and nodded.

"Truth to be told, it was you who inspired me to not run away just because it's the easiest way."

He looked at her, bewildered. "Easy now, darling..."

Gods above, she loved all of him but it always made her heart flutter how precious he was whenever thrown out of his element.

"Anyway, this may be our last chance to have fun. Come with me?" Esipre smiled at him. She offered him her hand and Astarion immediately took it.

First thing first, she stole a bottle of red wine from a street vendor while laughing at his stupid jokes. Astarion was simply standing nearby, enjoying the show. "I could say I'm shocked about your criminal behaviour, you villain, but that would be a lie," her vampire rewarded her with a high pitched giggle. He stole two iron cups in a short few minutes...

The were walking along the waterfront and watched the last returning fishing boats.

They heard a scream from a dark alleyway and then a Sharran cultict running from that direction. She blasted him with a firebolt, then dramatically bowed like an illusionist when two temple guards were thanking her.

They were sitting in the shade of an apple tree in the park, with Astarion's head in her lap. The sun was already low in the sky, its light golden. They heard some female voices calling their kids for dinner. She wrinkled her nose as one of the buzzing bees briefly stopped in front of her. Esipre sipped a bit of the wine from the cup and laughed as Astarion was gossiping about Shadowheart. The moment was like the last day of summer, sweet and melancholic at the same time.

"What is it, darling?" Astarion noticed her unfocused eyes.

Esipre didn't want to ruin the mood but then decided to simply tell the truth. "I just wish to freeze this moment in time."

"I don't. I'm just happy there's something always changing in my life now, after two centuries of doing the same with the same outcome."

"And you can deal with anything, I'm aware of that." Astarion was the strongest person she knew but telling him that would make his ego the size of the moon. Though he wasn't so sure how well he's going to take the ending of his love affair with the sun because that surely won't come gently. But she left that unsaid.

Esipre caressed his collarbone with her finger. "You're still warm from the sun," she smiled.

There was a hint of something darker, painful in his ruby eyes but it almost instantly faded. Astarion then took her hand and kissed her wrist. "Just an illusion anyway. I can perform the same trick using't heat from the fire whenever you want to."

Esipre was a bit tipsy which always made her say things she would probably regret saying otherwise.

"Provided we'll survive. I... may not be some serial killer you can swoon over or a young girl who you'd have easier time to wrap around you finger..."

"Don't," he moved a finger across her jaw. "How many times do I need to tell you you're perfect everytime?"

She hapilly giggled. "...but I think we've still had a great time together. Just so you know." Becase you may not want to see me ever again if we survive tomorrow.

"Look," Esipre pointed at the last small part of the sun disappearing on the horizon with childlike wonder.

"I can only see you," Astarion continued watching her, now sitting next to her.

She turned to him, then they both closed their eyes. "Three. Two. One," she whispered to the last rays of the sun.

The kiss was teasing and playful and long like they have all the time in the world. "That choice was painful, you know that," he said when their foreheads touched. "It'll be even more. But for moments like this I wouldn't have it any other way."

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion fluff #my writing

[yve-barr]

Promise braids -part 2

Just wanna say I hate this so much but y'all deserve something.

Part one is here 👇

https://www.tumblr.com/yve-barr/721480354297495552/promise-braids?source=share

I might right a part 3 but honestly part 2 took a lot out of me.

@goose-gremlin love you gurl! Tysn for hyping this up for me❤️

@maeriel-arnosel you too 🤗

I'm so sorry everyone else who wanted tagged it's just not working 😞

Warnings: legolas, injury, shitty writing on my part, adult theme?, lil rushed, violence, smut, public sex,

When the time came for you both to rise from the floor and say goodbye you felt your heart sink into your stomach. So little time had been spent between you two.

You both walked to the door, a fresh braid in your hair.

"I shall miss you my love," you whispered to him in elvish.

"as I shall miss you," he hugged you tight and snuck kisses along your neck.

Then he joined Gimli and Aragorn outside.

"you know I happen to own a certain cloak that makes the wearer completely undetectable to those she does not wish to find her."

"and what about an unbetrayed heart? Because I happen to be in need of one," you sighed.

"no I don't however I do have a spare horse if one was to need it."

"I can't go with you," you looked him dead in the eye.

"why not?"

"because he needs to know I'm safe," you replied honestly.

"then stay safe with him," the old wizard smiled, and you returned it.

"he wouldn't let me leave," you could feel giddy butterflies in your stomach.

"then wait for us to be out of sight then head northwest."

"thank you," you grinned before dashing off to gather your things.

By the time you had everything together and changed into riding clothes the others were well on there way. Checking you had everything you glimpsed the bow legolas had trained you with many years ago.

Grabbing it you brought everything outside.

Just as you packed everything onto the horse Gandalf had left you, you heard a horn blowing of in the distance. Your stomach dropped.

The orcs had arrived.

Your heart in your ears you quickly mounted your horse and directed her north west.

You could hear the beginnings of fear as screams rang through the town.

You felt sick to your stomach as you kicked your horse's sides and galloped off.

Praying you'd made it out in time you glanced back at the town which was gradually being ingulfed in flames.

You let out the breath you'd been holding.

You rode faster up the steep hill, when you turned around you saw them the orcs unlike any you'd ever seen.

Bigger, stronger, scarier.

They had swords the size of ponies and spears to match.

The archers had bows the size of saplings. The arrows as sharp as broken hearts.

The same arrows that were souring through the sky.

Quickly you forced your horse faster, but not fast enough.

You could hear the others. They had stopped in a valley with a lone tree near the edge and a small stream gurgling around.

There chatter blurred almost as much as your vision as you slipped from your horse. Hitting the ground with a thud.

***

Legolas turned his head picking up his bow as he went.

"what are you doing?" Asked Aragorn.

"I heard something," legolas answered simply.

Quietly Aragorn, and Gimli followed him.

Then legolas saw you lying on the ground your breath coming in uneven gasps.

"Y/n," he rushed towards you dropping his bow and arrow to the ground. He picked you up in his arms.

Then he saw the blood streaming from the arrow wound in your lower back.

"She's hurt," Aragorn called to Gandalf.

"Bring her to me," Gandalf called and legolas sprung to his feet almost running over to the wizard.

Your eyes fluttered open as legolas placed you down on your stomach.

"I have something that may help," said Gandalf and he took a small bottle filled with a clear liquid out of his pocket.

"will it hurt her?" Legolas asked.

"extremely," replied Gandalf. "I need to access her back."

Legolas undid the laces at the back of your dress top, leaving your back exposed but he made sure your breasts would be mostly hidden.

"elavate her head and chest so she can breath," Gandalf said.

Legolas shifted so that your top half lay across his lap, his legs crossed.

Then Gandalf removed the cork from the bottle and poured a little of the liquid onto the wound.

It smoked and sizzled. And you screamed.

Legolas tried to comfort you by holding your hand and stroking your hair but it did nothing.

Pain racked your body as the liquid entered your blood stream and ripped its way through your entire being.

Gandalf flinched away momentarily before pouring more liquid onto the gash.

You screamed louder.

"STOP!" You screeched. "PLEASE!" Legolas bent over you holding you tight to him.

Gimli turned away and Aragorn stared at the ground.

"please make it stop," you whimpered tears stinging your eyes.

Gandalf looked at you simpatheticly.

Your wound had disappeared leaving nothing but a faint red mark.

Legolas tied your top closed and sat you up in his arms cradling you into his chest.

"I'm sorry my love," legolas muttered to quietly for anyone else to hear.

"why did you leave?" You murmered before losing conciousness.

Legolas felt tears escape his eyes for the second time that day as he sobbed over your unconscious form.

When you awoke you were on a fine white horse with someone riding behind you.

As the horse jostled you about you felt yourself sliding right but the person behind you quickly righted you pulling you into his chest.

"legolas?"

"I'm here," Legolas replied from behind and stroked the side of your face with the back of his hand.

"where are we going?" You asked sleepily.

"into the mountains," he answered leaving a sweet kiss on your neck. "Don't worry you will be safe there."

"Your leaving me?" You turned to look at him.

"We have to my love," he whispered his name for you in elvish.

You sighed and looked at your surroundings, you didn't want to argue with him right now.

You could see the level path gradually steepening, higher and higher until it disappeared amongst the trees.

Once you had traveled for what seemed like hours you reached a small cave in the mountain side. The cave extended about 5 meters back and 3 wide.

Silently you all dismounted your horse's.

"here we are," said Gandalf jesturing to the cave.

"and I'll be safe here?" You asked unsure. Trying to resist the urge to cling to legolas even with his hand in the small of your back. Especially with his hand on the small of your back.

"yes," said Aragorn, "no one will pass through here and if they do they shalln't see you."

"ok," you smiled and you took your small amount of luggage with you into the cave.

"oh and y/n, if someone does happen to come this way do not make a sound. Even if you are bleeding out onto the ground do not let anyone find you. They cannot enter this cave unless they see or hear you. You understand?"

Slightly taken aback you agreed and the company moved on.

"GOODBYE!" Called Gimli and legolas waved.

Wishing legolas was there you searched through your bags for the book you knew you'd packed, as it was your favourite and you had often spent whole nights with your nose stuck in between the pages.

Finding said book you settled down in a small alcove at the back of the cave with your bags resting beside you and began reading.

The story was on old one written by the first elves to travel to middle earth. It was about valinor, a place so pure that many elves were now traveling back to it.

Alas you could not return, not because of your human father. But you could settle for your imaginery version.

You would love to hear how it was now but no elves ever returnes from valinor.

The last thing you heard before drifting of to sleep was a horn blasting through the still silence.

When you awoke it was mid-day and the sun was streaming into the cave.

Rubbing sleep from your eyes you looked out at the lone tree gaurding the exit to your cave you saw shadows moving across the entrance.

Stiffling a gasp you shot back into the alcove.

You could hear bustling around outside before it all went silent. Peaking around the rock you could make out vague shapes lingering by the door.

Hurriedly you ducked back down reaching for the double recurve bow at your feet.

A voice came from outside and you let out a shaky breath collapsing your head into your hands.

"I swear she was right here," said Gimli.

"She was, she was right here," added Aragorn.

"maybe something happened?"came gandalfs voice.

"hopefully she's close by," said Gimli.

You made to stand up but froze. There were four shadows, three voices.

Legolas was there but hadn't spoken.

Silently you sat back down.

"where is she?" Gimli asked.

When you realise your name hadn't been mentioned you thanked your lucky star you hadn't walked out.

"where is she?" Gimli's voice asked again.

It wasn't them.

"probably gone," said Gandalf.

Suddenly you felt a sharp twing of pain in your head and you massaged your temple.

"I can feels it," whispered a wet voice.

Clasping your forehead you curled in on yourself. Wishing for the pain to end. You could feel your consciousness disappearing.

"it's in here," rasped another.

Then you heard the twang of a bow string and the thud of an arrow finding its mark.

Then three more times, before silence.

The throbbing in your head stopped and you straightened your back. Tempted to peer around the corner you shuffled further back against the wall.

You could hear footsteps outside quickly closing in.

"Y/N! Y/N ARE YOU OK?" Came legolas's frantic voice.

You peeped around the wall of the alcove and saw him walking inside the cave.

"yeah, I'm here," you called back meekly.

"oh thank god," legolas rushed to your side and knelt before you, "are you alright are you hurt?"

"no, I'm fine," you replied truthfully and he sighed in relief.

"I was worried."

"where are the others?"

"they sent me ahead, they are just coming," he said but his eyes didn't meet yours.

"legolas?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I ran ahead when I saw you weren't alone "

He helped you to your feet. Then he peaked outside seeing that the others were quite far off legolas turned back to you.

"we have five minutes," he said before slamming his hand beside your head and pulling you into him, kissing you agresively.

Melting into him you trailed your hands up his side's, resting them on his cheeks.

Legolas pushed your back up against the wall, his hand which was previously gripping your waist found its way to your breast, slowly needing it.

You moaned into his mouth and you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip before he took it in-between his teeth and rolled it around.

You pulled him impossibly closer and rapped your arms around his neck.

Panting he stopped gazing into your eyes. His own filled with longing.

"I love you," he whispers you tried to reply but he silenced you with his mouth. You gasped and opened your mouth wider, this must have been what he wanted because seconds later he had his tongue in your mouth.

The sounds of footsteps haulted your kiss.

"Y/N!" Called a voice much to close.

"I thought you said five minutes?" You whispered to legolas. He merely shrugged and walked out of the alcove.

"we are here!" He called out and suddenly Aragorn was upon you checking you to see if you were ingured.

"are you hurt?" He flustered about you.

"I am unharmed Aragorn," you assured him and pushed him back.

"I told you so," said Gimli as he hobbled up to you a humungus grin on his face.

"what bet did you win?" You asked him cheerily.

"Forty three!" Cried Gimli before he turned to see if Gandalf had arrived.

You turned to legolas for an explanation.

He merely looked at his feet and mumbled "one, it was one point," before sneeking his hand into yours looking for simpathy.

You gave it, squeezing his hand tight and rubbing your thumb across his nuckles.

Aragorn watched this exchange closly.

"so you two are really close then?" He asked.

"oh god yeah," you smiled back. "We're like siblings."

"Ah Y/n you are alright?" You nodded in response to Gandalfs question, "good, then we must make hast too Isengard."

"wait what about me? Legolas said I shan't be going to Isengard?" You pointed out.

"oh did he?" Said Aragorn. "Legolas failed to mention that."

All three looked to legolas sternly.

"in my defense," legolas trailed off unable to think of an excuse.

"well I suppose you could stay with the woman if Rohan," suggested Gandalf.

"Then I must stay aswell, harm befalls her whenever I leave," legolas objected.

"yeah, or legolas who is needed could go and I can fight with you guys?"

"No way," they all responded in unison.

"Tch," you tutted and walked too the entrance whilst the others discussed what to do with you.

Hopping down over rocks you walked further away. Following a small burn trickling down next to you.

That's when you heard it a rasping choking sound. The throbbing in your head returned.

"Gots you," gurgled the thing at your feet.

"Legol-" you tried to call out but you fell to your knees the pain in your head intensifying.

As the thing slowly crawled towards you, you kicked out landing a solid kick to its eye making it squeal in pain as it rithed around.

"Help," you cried a lot quieter but the thing at your feet heard.

"No helps for you," it said before lurching forward knocking your head against a rock. Blood poured into your eyes and you fumbled around for a weapon.

Finding a loose rock your turned to the creature bringing the rock down around its head. In the back of your mind you heard the twang of an arrow. But the creature seemed unbothered as it sunk its teeth into your calf.

You screamed an ear piercing scream and attempted to kick off the thing. Holding your rock more tightly you brought it down a second time this time hitting its jaw.

With a sickening crunch the creatures eyes flicked up to yours.

"Fiesty it is," a mix of saliva and blood pooled on your leg. You squeeked and tried to shuffle backwards but the pain in your leg was unimaginable. "Oh it's not leaving, it's not leaving," it laughed.

"Yes she is," cried Aragorn bringing his sword down splitting the creature's head in two. You let out a weak gasp.

Catching your breath you let your head fall back against soft moss.

"Thank you, I owe you one."

"You owe me nothing," he said pulling you into a tight imbrace.

"Where's legolas?"

"You know he heard you scream and ran out with naught but a single arrow and his bow."

"Then why is he not here?"

"Isn't it obvious, he missed,' Aragorn gestured to a singular arrow in the wood of a tree a few feet away.

"Oh," you said momentarily forgetting the pain in your leg but it was remembered harshly when you attempted to move.

Cursing Aragorn lifted you up holding you tight against him.

Tears soaked your cheeks as you cried in agony.

Aragorn started to run back up the mountain. Calling out as he did.

The blood loss would have knocked you unconscious but the pain kept you awake.

The cold stone of the cave floor did nothing to cool the hot pain searing through your body.

"Y/N!" Legolas knelt next to you but didn't touch you.

"Legolas," you reached your hand up to his face and he held it there.

You could hear gandalf ordering the other two around but your pain deluded mind didn't register it, you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"Y/n I so sorry, I should have brought more arrows I should have helped more," his tears streaked his fave and landed on yours.

"It's ok, it's not your fault," you could feel someone wrapping bandages round your leg and you squeezed your eyes tight shut so you didn't scream. "Can I go with you know?"

"I am never leaving your side again."

"Thank you."

The road was rough everyone was tired as you trekked through marsh and forest alike.

You were camping out in a small gorge fire crackling and spitting.

***skipable smut from here till the next cut***

Everyone lay a few meters away from were you and legolas were sitting, all fast asleep.

You were proped up against a tree whilst he was leaning on your shoulder.

You were quite a bit away from the others so it came as no surprise to either of you that they hadn't heard you yet.

Legolas's hand was buried beneath your skirt, 'checking your bandages'.

His face was nestled in your hair his fingers working a silent apology on your clit.

You struggled to stay quiet his long fingers spreading your wetness around your folds.

you squirmed slightly and he picked up the pace rubbing circles around your sensitive bud making you whimper.

His fingers moved faster as you ground your hips against them desperate for more.

His other hand moved from your thigh up to your breast slowly massaging it and pinching at your nipple.

Wet squelching sounds erupted as he slipped his finger inside your soaked entrance quickly adding a second as you clenched around him.

His fingers pumped in and out of you in time with his hand on your breast making you moan and grip his thighs your legs spreading outwards.

He slowly let go of your breast his hand joing his other between your things only this one drew slow circles around your clit.

Your breathing quickened as his hands worked you faster.

suddenly you came letting out a silent moan.

He kept going through your orgasm until you had finished and her slowly pulled his fingers out of you and popped them in his mouth sucking them clean.

****end smut****

silence rung loud through the clearing broken only by gimlis uneven ear splitting snore.

The moon was high in the sky casting long shadows, and the cold air hung like a weighted blanket.

you fell asleep leaning against Legolas his breathing luling you to sleep.

Even with the ground poking you uncomfortably his arms were like a weighted blanket on your thoughts.

#legolas greenleaf #legolas fanfiction #legolas x reader #legolas #lotr fanfic

[strawwritesfic]

Legolas x Female!Elf!Reader: Adore

Summary: Gimli had better just get used to the fact that he’ll never understand Legolas completely. 

Rating/Tags: All (Gimli & Legolas; post-Return of the King; Mirkwood Elven Guard!Reader; some lingering Dwarves vs. Elves tension; pipe smoking)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Adore

Good was finally ending one long, uncertain journey to start another with a certain end. Better was a journey of companionship and seeing sights one could not rest for on the first. Better yet was being an honored guest in your companion’s home where your kin had once been prisoners and little else. Still, Gimli felt, one could grow tired of elves–and dwarves could grow tired of them more quickly than anyone, warm welcome or no. Better than all the rest was quiet, stars peeking through the Mirkwood trees, and a chance to get at his pipe.

Legolas’s feast would continue on for many hours more. No one could celebrate like his people. For all Gimli knew, he could rest for the next night and day and wake to continued revelry. There would be time enough for him to return. 

Gimli settled himself comfortably against the base a wide tree trunk to smoke at his leisure. He took his first breath in of sweet-smelling smoke and was in the process of blowing it in rings toward the leaves above his head when a slender figure stepped silently past him into the nearby clearing. Eyeing the figure's back, Gimli wondered if Legolas realized that he was there. The sound of singing continued in the distance behind them, but Legolas’s back was to the celebration, his head turned up to watch the sky.

Five minutes of that, and Gimli decided he had had more than enough. Patient dwarves might have been, but friends had no need to be patient with the sudden oddities of a friend. He cleared his throat. 

“Do you plan to join me, or do you intend to stand there like an Ent for the rest of the night?” Gimli asked.

Legolas made no sign that he had heard. 

Snorting, Gimli put his pipe back in his mouth. Now that he thought about it, this behavior of Legolas’s was nothing new. They had left Gimli’s family in high spirits, but as the road wound on toward Mirkwood, Legolas grew more and more introspective. The silent rides atop their horse had nearly driven Gimli to insanity, but he had hoped that coming home would lift his friend’s spirits. Clearly nothing had happened except to make Legolas seem less communicative than ever. 

Gimli ran a hand down his beard. Perhaps going back to the food would not be so bad. It would save him sitting there worrying fruitlessly over Legolas.

Just as Gimli made to put out his pipe, Legolas turned, stepping again toward the feast. Then his eyes fell on Gimli. Gimli blinked once at him. Whatever Legolas was thinking about, he did not want to share it with him. The elf blinked back, and his lips pulled up into a vague smile. He changed direction and soon was close enough for Gimli to touch.

“I had not realized you had left the celebration already,” Legolas said.

Gimli only squinted in reply. Was Legolas so truly out of sorts that he had missed Gimli entirely? Had Gimli been more familiar with any elf other than this one, he might have spoken with one of those here of his concern. As it was, all he could assume was that this was normal behavior for an elf and that coming home had turned Legolas more normal somehow.

“Aye,” Gimli answered gruffly. “I had thought my greeting five minutes past would have been enough warning for you, but I suppose you might have got into a bit of that Elvish wine.”

To his great surprise, the wan smile on Legolas’ face faded further. His eyes turned again to the stars. “Forgive me, my friend. My thoughts are elsewhere.”

This did not entirely discount Gimli’s suggestion that Legolas was simply drunk. Really, though, that would not explain Legolas’s silence over the many miles. Wherever his thoughts were still, Gimli was not wanted.

“Blasted elf,” he grumbled, though there was some good-nature in his tone, for at least Legolas was sorry. Mirkwood had not reclaimed him so much that they were no longer friends. “How about you tell me where your thoughts have been for the past fortnight? Perhaps that will make me more inclined to forgive you.”

“The past fortnight?” Legolas repeated. Gimli was pleased to see that this had at least got Legolas’s attention back to present. Legolas blinked again, then he let out a small sigh. “My thoughts are ever elsewhere, I suppose.”

“That is not an answer, of which you are well aware.”

“I am.” Another sigh. Though Gimli would not admit it, his attention was piqued. In all their time of knowing each other, Legolas had never acted in such a manner. “I am sorry, Gimli. I have been worried about returning here for so long that I did not realize that you had noticed my concern.”

“Concern about what? Either tell me or do not. So long as I can rest this evening knowing you will be leaving this place with me in due time, so much the better.”

Legolas’s smile turned sad. He did not look away this time, yet Gimli felt somehow that Legolas was no longer looking at him but rather through him. 

“What good does it do to dwell on that which will not be?” Legolas asked. “It only makes the absence that much more apparent, speaking of it more so to those who were otherwise ignorant of the absence to begin with.”

“The absence of what, pray tell?” 

It rankled, Gimli realized, knowing that Legolas wanted to keep secrets even after all this time. There had been no holding back during their visit to Gimli’s family. Legolas had been treated just as a dwarf, a dwarf prince even. Gimli had been treated well by Legolas' family, too, but he hardly cared about the niceties of elves when there was only one elf he truly cared about remaining in Middle Earth. 

“Spit it out, Legolas! Have we not been together long enough to speak frankly to one another?” he said.

“I do not mean to keep you in the dark. It is only that I received bad tidings from my father this night. I fear that coming home might have done me more harm than good. There is but one thing I hoped for on the way here, and now I know there is no chance of it happening.”

“You are more difficult to interrogate than an orc!” Gimli bemoaned. He threw up his hands in defeat. A long night of singing it was. “Keep your secrets, Legolas. I need them not. I only hope that you will be back to your old self by the time we make ready to leave.”

Legolas smiled a bit more sincerely at that. “I do not intend to speak in riddles, Gimli. It is only that–”

A snapping branch interrupted him. 

Gimli’s hand went straight to the ax at his hip, but Legolas was even faster, his bow strung and arrow drawn before the sound came again, louder and faster. There were still elves close by, but this was closer, and not everything in Mirkwood could have been fixed by Frodo and Gollum’s deed. 

Gimli could hear Legolas breathing in the dark; his own breath sounded too loud in his ears. They stood together like that for several minutes, ears straining as the snapping condensed into swift footsteps. A straggler rushing to the party?

No. Just when Gimli thought that danger might be upon them, a young woman burst into their clearing. She was so out of breath, so obviously exhausted, that it took him half a minute to realize that she was an elf. Thankfully, it took him less time to understand the look Legolas gave her–and therefore the whole of Legolas’s behavior this night and those before. The bow fell immediately to Legolas side, and there was something in his gaze that Gimli had never seen before.

“[Name],” Legolas breathed.

There were many odd things about this elf. Never had Gimli seen one so tired, not even Legolas after taking down an Oliphant. Stranger than this, however, was your reaction to Legolas. Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but at the same time, you lifted one hand to your mouth.

“Legolas?” you asked.

Legolas joined you in a single bound, leaving Gimli to stand on his own once more. This time, Gimli did not feel the faint burning of frustration in his veins. No, this time Gimli felt nothing but amused. He hid a smile in his beard as he leaned back against his tree. He had not been sent away, after all, and this was something he most certainly wanted to see.

“My father told me that you were away on patrol, too far away to get here in any short time,” Legolas said in a soft voice.

You stood just a little away, as though frozen to the spot. When Legolas continued to look at you expectantly, you looked down for one moment before looking back up at him. 

“I was,” you admitted, then: “I am. They told me you were here, and I…ran.”

That much, Gimli felt, was obvious. 

Perhaps Legolas did not feel it was so, because he lifted a hand to gently cup the side of your face. “You’re warm."

“I ran as swiftly as I could.”

Legolas let out a soft laugh. 

Laugh? To think that all this time, Legolas was mooning over some woman in the forest. Gimli did not know whether to be annoyed or entertained. Both, he decided in short order--short enough order, in fact, that you and Legolas were still busy staring at each other in the dim starlight by the time Gimli had come to his conclusion.

“Does my father know you’re here?” Legolas asked.

“No, and there are so few of us left to look after the border. I should not have left, but–I had to see you.”

Legolas beamed. 

What could Gimli do but clear his throat? Much more of this presentation and he was likely to fall ill. Thranduil would not take that kindly, he was sure. 

The two of you practically leaped apart at Gimli’s interruption, though to both your credits, each of you recovered quickly enough. The familiar crease of the brow that appeared whenever Gimli first met an elf appeared on yours as well. This smoothed away as Legolas stepped over to him. Gimli suspected shock, as was common when anyone came to know if his and Legolas' companionship.

“[Name]," Legolas said, placing a light hand on Gimli's shoulder, "this is Gimli, son of Glóin. He is my closest friend, and it is to him that any thanks are owed for my safe return.”

Frowning, you looked first at Gimli, then slowly returned your gaze to Legolas’ face. Gimli expected it to stay there, but soon you were looking at him again. Then you inclined your head toward him. “Thank you, Gimli. For keeping him safe when I could not follow to do so.”

“My pleasure, Lady [Name], and it is a further pleasure to know of your existence.” 

It was Gimli’s turn to grin. His doing so made Legolas smile as well. It was a nice change from the consistent frown he had worn of late. You simply threw Legolas an appraising look and came nearer to take his hand. 

“He needs looking after, this one. I appreciate any help that you are willing to give,” Gimli added.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Legolas beat you to it. Unsurprisingly, his attention was elsewhere once more: “You said my father does not know that you are here,” he said, leaning closer to your face. “If you were to join us, he would know for sure. I would hate to subject you to his displeasure, and yet…”

Gimli could tell Legolas wanted to leave his welcoming party. Well, it was not as though Gimli could not sympathize. He hated to be left alone with Legolas’s friends and family, but this seemed a more important reason to run off. 

With a shake of his head, Gimli waved you and Legolas toward the deeper recesses of the forest. “Go on. I shall make your excuses for you.”

There was the briefest return of Legolas’ smile. “Thank you, Gimli.”

You two did not wait for him to wave you away a second time. Gimli watched until you disappeared into the tree boughs across the way. As he turned back to the feast behind, it was with a considerable weight gone from his shoulders. Legolas would be fine. Furthermore, if–and Gimli certainly hoped it so–you joined them as they headed onward toward the sea, maybe you would prove better at conversation than Legolas had proved to be.

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #second person pov #one shot #challenge fic #request #lord of the rings #lotr #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas x y/n #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x y/n #lord of the rings reader insert #legolas reader insert #lotr reader insert

[husbandhoshi]

jeonghan + 2am + cute🥰

[2:00]

“i don’t think this is a good idea.”

the night that blankets hwaseong is buttery and lush, moon hanging over the sleeping city like a ripe apple.

"have i ever had good ones?" jeonghan answers plainly, and he waits for your nose to scrunch up in annoyance before he smiles.

it's a habit, much like the way he matches your stride, the way it feels right to walk beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

it reminds you of when you were children, walking with pinkies linked through the wildflowers, except now he's at least two heads taller than you and a lot funnier.

"what if someone sees us together?”

jeonghan chuckles, deep and intimate, and takes his baseball cap off to plop it on top of your head, pushing the brim down to your eyes.

he has a big ass head now too, you think, but you keep that one to yourself.

"better?"

"you know that's not what i mean."

“who would say anything? we know everyone here.”

and that shuts you up because he’s right.

you wore the city like your second skin. borne into you, the laugh of the ahjumma who owned the jjampong place, the glitter of july-ripened strawberries, the titters of old folks feeding the gulls.

you never thought jeonghan would leave all that behind until the tuesday six whole years ago he said was going to seoul to become an idol.

“did you miss me?” he asks.

like crazy. like i’d never missed anything more, you want to say. instead you swallow down the lump of crazy chewed up words and think of something more normal to say.

it’s not like you hadn’t talked since he left.

have you eaten? he would text you. other times, like my last instagram post or you’re a fake fan.

only once: how big is the moon in hwaseong? are you looking at it too?

there was a time you couldn’t imagine hwaseong without your best friend. for a moment, it was like a ghost town, haunted by the boy who picked up bugs on the ground and always let you have the last bungeoppang, even if it was filled with red bean (his favorite).

but it seems he’s outgrown his shadow. he stands tall and expensive, and even the hat on your head seems like it costs more than your car.

and yet, you hear his old man groan claw its way out of his chest, and you feel as though nothing at all has changed.

“ya, are you actually ignoring me? did i fly a thousand something miles out here to get ignored?”

it’s another habit, what jeonghan does next, but you can swear the stars drop out of the sky—he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, made strong and lean by time.

it jerks you into a moment seven summers ago, when you’re you and jeonghan is just the gangly boy next door throwing rocks at your window, and you forget for a moment how woefully plain you feel next to your best friend turned celebrity.

“sorry,” you laugh, gathering your bearings. “of course i missed you. i even got weverse or whatever.”

he rolls his eyes in a way so dramatic, you would almost delete the app off your phone if it wasn’t for that smile, a traitor to the cool front he always has.

“i missed you too.” he says it easily, simply, as if all of this was just foreplay.

“it must be a lot quieter here than in seoul, huh? and the food is—”

“no, i missed you.”

he stops in his tracks, elvish features almost offensively attractive in the fluorescent streetlight, to look at you.

to look at all of you, not just the you who bandaged his knee when he was learning to skateboard for the first time, but the you who answers his anxious late-night calls, the you who greeted him at the airport with that dizzyingly warm smile, the you who stands before him now.

and it’s you who he takes into his arms, hesitantly, then all at once, as if he’s dreamed about this for ages (he has).

he takes off the too big hat, holds the face he knows so well in his hands, and kisses you under the hwaseong moon, finally not so far away.

(“you think the paparazzi got their pictures?” he jokes between kisses, knowing full well your audience consists of a raccoon and maybe the weird guy who owns the liquor store across the street.

“we can give ‘em another one.”

he’s never one to argue with a good idea.)

#sorry it kinda fell off the rails at the end #🫶 #also sorry it’s LATE i went out to eat and then started watching this terrible show #ask #anon #mine #jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x reader

[yourlocalfriendlyhobbit]

Imagine: Elrond (RoP)

Pairing: Elrond x (human) Reader

Part 2

Warnings: None.

Gender neutral, no hair/eyes/skin colour mentioned. might be a little OOC.

A/N:

I love the show so much, and Elrond just stole my heart the second he appeared on screen <3 ! he’s just so cute!

I kinda got carried away... and i have almost 0 writing skills. you've been warned.

also, english is not my native language, i apologise for any mistakes. and i tried to add some elvish in this, but i’m not sure if i got the translation right...

○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○

The sun was barely peeking behind the horizon when you started to wake up. The slightly open window of your chambers allowed the smell of the morning dew on flowers and grass to enter the room, and the faint breeze coming with it caused goosebumps to appear on your arms. You pulled the covers around yourself a little more, wishing nothing more than to go back to sleep before ultimately having to get up to attend to your duties. In your half asleep state, you didn't hear the door slowly opening, or the light footsteps approaching your bed...

Elrond had started the preparation for his journey when the moon was still high in the sky, and having almost finished, he decided to sneak into your room to wake you up. He was to leave in the evening, and you wouldn't be able to see each other for a month at best. He was determined to spend as much time as possible with you today.

Swiftly, he entered your room, and walked to your bed where you were almost asleep again. A small smile tugged at his lips. He crossed the room without a sound, and sat next to you, careful to not startle you. He reached out to touch your face delicately; his fingers grazing your cheeks and forehead. After a few minutes, he decided to gently wake you up, he leaned in and placed small kisses on your temple, muttering sweet nothings in between each kisses.

It took you a few seconds to realise what was happening; to realise your lover was beside you, giving you affection. In your opinion, there was no better way to wake up.

With a sigh, your eyes fluttered open and you were greeted by the handsome face of the elf who stole your heart. You rolled on your back and smiled at him, taking the hand that was touching your face in yours.

“Good morning...”

“Good morning my love. Did you sleep well?”

You hummed while nodding your head.

“Yes, but I could have used an hour or two more, though.”

He let out a breathy laugh. You sat up and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for your journey?”

You asked as he gently rubbed the back of your head with his free hand.

“The preparation are almost finished. Someone else will take care of what’s left. I just wish to spend the day with you.”

It was no secret that the both of you hated being apart; when he had to leave for a long period of time, he always looked for a way to get you to join the travel, that way you were by his side, and he could subtly show you off to the world.But his time, he couldn’t bring you along...

“I have to help in the library today.”

You reminded him.

“Do not worry about that. I made sure they wouldn’t need you...” 

He really had planned everything. Not that you were complaining.There was nothing you loved than to spend a day with him. Especially since you wouldn’t be able to for some time.

“Then, why don’t we lay down for a while longer, and then we’ll enjoy the rest of the day until you have to leave?”

You suggested, pulling away from him. He kissed your forehead, and smiled.

“Very well, meleth nin (my love)”

You moved to give him some space to lay down. Once Elrond was comfortably settled on your bed, you cuddled up to him, resting your head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and took your hand that was resting on his chest in his. his warmth was slowly but surely lulling you back to sleep, but before sleep could fully take hold of you, you heard him whisper:

“Melin le (I love you)”

You woke up two hours or so later. Elrond was awake too, he probably didn't sleep at all. Je gazing lovingly at you, like he always did when he looked at you. With a sigh, you sat up and leaned in to give Elrond a kiss. You both got out of the bed and he left the room to let you get ready, telling you he would wait for you on a balcony down the corridor. You went to the bathroom attached to your chambers to wash up quickly. Once finished, you went back to your room and got dressed.

You didn't waste any more time and ran out, almost slamming the room behind you, to join Elrond. You found him, like he said, on the balcony, looking out at the sea, a serene smile on his face. You knew he heard you coming but that didn't stop you from running into his back to hug him. You both laughed as he took your hands in his, turned into your embrace and kissed your forehead. He then let go of your right hand and led you out to start your day together...

...

The day was spent laughing, talking about anything and everything, sharing kisses and words of love, in the meadow where he always go when he wants to be left alone. Time passed to quickly for both of you, as you had to walk to the gates of Lindon to meet with the other elves who would be travelling with him.

When you arrived, everything was ready for his departure. Elves were busying themselves around the horses and the carts, not paying attention to you two.

Elrong took both your hands in his when you stopped walking. He looked deep into your eyes and kissed your knuckles.

"Are you sure there is no chance of me going with you?"

You asked him, for what feels the thousandth time, and even though you already knew the answer.

"Sadly no. I've pleaded the High King many times, but the answer remains the same."

He looked as saddened as you. You huffed and looked behind him far into the distance, at nothing in particular. Elrond held your chin between his thumb and index finger and turned your face to his, so you could look into his eyes.

"Do not be upset my love. I don't like the idea of leaving when you feel like that..."

You smiled as best as you could. It was but a sad smile, knowing that you would be alone for a month, as most of the elves usually ignored you. A single tear feel down your cheek at the thought, and Elrond was quick to catch it with the pad of his finger. He let his hand rest on your cheek. He just looked at you, as if it would be the last time he saw you. Then, he kissed you. The kiss was passionate and full of love. He didn't care at all if the others saw; they didn't matter for him. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. You could faintly hear the elves around you, talking and giving orders... What snapped you both back was the one that said that it was time to leave. But you didn't moved one bit.

"I guess it's time to say goodbye..."

You said.

"I'll be back before you realise, my love, do not worry."

He gave you a bright smile to try and cheer you up a little. You put your hand on his, that didn't leave your cheek. You smiled bak at him, and then kissed his palm. He was about to say something else but once again, an elf insisted it was time for them to be on their way...

"Melin le, nin elena (I love you, my star)"

"I love you too"

...

You stood in the same spot you were when he left, you just turned around to look at him slowly going in the forest. A few steps into it, Elrond turned around to look at you. He gave you a small wave and turned back around to catch up with the others. You watched them until they completely disappeared into the forest.

You didn't know if he was right, if this month would go by quickly, but Lindon surely would be quite dark to you, without your lover to brighten your days...

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DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS!

#lord of the rings #lotr #the rings of power #rings of power #lord of the rings rings of power #elrond #elrond peredhel #young elrond #robert aramayo #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings x reader #lotr imagine #lotr x reader #rings of power imagine #rings of power x reader #elrond x reader #elrond peredhel x reader #young elrond x reader #x reader

[leahsflwer]

Hobbit Preference - “You holding their hand” ♥️

Warnings: Nothing really..

Kili -

You and Kili had a love hate relationship from the start and you promised that you would never need his help. But when you were all running from the trolls, you happened to grab his hand as you were not as fast as him. He looked back at your hand gripping onto his and he flashed a cheeky smile, pulling you along and when you finally stopped he squeezed your hand tightly to get your attention.

“What? You held my hand” he shrugged

Fili -

As Thorin spoke of the plan you were slightly scared and grabbed onto Fili’s hand. He was closest to you and you needed to hold onto something. He noticed your sudden action and peaked at you taking in your body language, understanding how you were feeling in the moment. He pulled your hand closer so he was holding it with both of his large hands, keeping you warm.

Thorin -

You wanted him to understand elves more and stop his hate towards them, of course that would be impossible so quickly. You knew it wouldn’t happen after your rant and just held both his hands, looking in his eyes and asking him to at least think about it. He was flustered by the action but just stared at you. You let go and walked off to Bilbo, his eyes glued to you and thinking on what you asked of him.

Legolas -

He was up late looking at the stars and you knew he needed to sleep. So you got up from the rock you leaned upon and walked up beside him. He didn’t notice until he was taken from his daze as he felt you hold his hand. You had freezing hands and it made him look at you quickly. You asked him to sleep but he just smiled and held your hand.

“Stay with me for a while. The stars are brighter than usual. Tomorrow will be a good one, it’s what the sky tells us tonight”

Thranduil -

He was in a bad mood questioning why you were standing there in front of him. You tried to ask him to realise the dwarves but he wouldn’t budge with the idea. You talked and talked but felt ignored. So in all the confidence you had, you grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes. Begging him in a mature manner. He was shocked that you were brave enough to even touch him. But oddly he wasn’t angry, he felt soft and finally nodded.

Bilbo -

It wasn’t hard to see how scared Bilbo was about going in a room with a dragon. It scared him to his core. You knew this and grabbed hold of his hands on the stairs, smiling at him in a comforting way. He stared in confusion, but slowly understood and felt safe with your touch. Nodding and going in, feeling ready to face a nightmare.

Bard -

He was confused when he felt a soft and gentle touch on his hands. Looking away from the water and to his hand, yours on his as you leaned over the boat. He felt happy but also scared. He had lost many people he had loved and was scared, he wanted to cry in joy but kept himself together being a strong guy and just looked back towards the sea letting the boat guide you back to lake town.

Galadriel -

She spoke of her terrible past and told you about how it flew into her mind everyday even while she slept. You felt upset and sad for her. Grabbing the gorgeous elf’s hand, rubbing the back of it with your thumb. She was flustered at the action but smirked at you, lifting your hand up and kissing it.

Elrond -

He was explaining to you the plan in the elvish language while the others are their food. He pointed at a few things on the map, to help mention them to the others once we set off on our journey. He was not to be there and help so he had to make sure you are ready prior so you are not hurt or killed. You appreciated all he had done and laid your hand on his which laid upon the desk. He turned his head to look at you and got slightly flustered to see you smiling up at him, he just nodded and smiled to himself.

[luna-redamancy]

Hi Luna! I know I've been gone a long time so if you don't feel like writing this I understand❤️

What about being from our world and suddenly finding yourself in Middle Earth, but besides English you know another language that don't exist there (Ex I'm Swedish, but any language is good), so everyone is kind of baffled and intrigued by it, maybe you try and teach them a song or just a few words too? You can choose if you want to do a short story (pairing of you choice as usual) or just like a headcanon with how different characters react, the important part is you having fun❤️

Hello, lovely! Don't worry at all about being gone, I'm glad you had a chance to step away and step back whenever you felt ready! I hope you enjoy this:

“Jobbig,” You murmured below your breath, annoyance running through you as you were instructed to go get firewood for the eighth time. Usually, the schedule switched among all the Company members, rotating on who did what so no one felt like they were being singled out - until now.

Setting your pack down, you rolled out your back. It wasn’t the worst task, but it wasn’t the nicest. The scenery definitely improved your feelings about it, getting to wander through wildflowers and mushrooms as you picked up the wood ranging from small sticks to large logs and fallen oak branches. 

“What was that?” Bilbo inquired as you turned to leave. 

“What was what?” You asked, raising a brow. 

“That word, it didn’t sound familiar,” Bilbo looked so lost, brow furrowing and his nose scrunching as he wracked his brain. Elvish? No, not as tricky, and it definitely didn’t sound as harsh as Dwarvish Khuzdul. It didn’t sound like common-tongue either. 

“Jobbig?” You repeated, realization dawning on you as Bilbo nodded. 

“It’s not Eng- common-tongue,” You corrected yourself, remembering how their ways of referring to languages were different than your world. 

“What language is it?” This got the Company intrigued, halting from their tasks as Bilbo questioned you. They knew relatively little about you, and since finding out that you weren’t of this world, they were suspicious of your intentions. Now was their chance to discover more.

“It’s the language of my homeland,” You explained, a rueful smile growing on your face. “It’s called Sweden, and the language is called Swedish.”

“You’ve never spoken it before,” Ori piped up in the background.

“Well I’m the only one here that speaks it, it would be kind of useless to,” You shrugged, “It just slips out every now and then like–”

“Jogib-” Kili attempted, accidentally interrupted you as he tried to mimic the word you spoke. 

“Jobbig,” You gently corrected, your grin turning gleeful as he successfully said it the second time.

“What does it mean?” Thorin now questioned, a curious expression covering his face. 

“It doesn’t really have a direct translation, like I imagine many of Khuzdul words are,” You began, feeling flustered with all of their attention on you. “It’s a descriptor of a task?” You struggled to explain, “When a task is tiresome or tedious, Jobbig.”

“Jobbig,” 

“Jobbig,” 

“Jobbig-”

Each of the members said it, one by one, a thoughtful look on their face before Balin chimed in. 

“Would you mind teaching us more, if you are comfortable sharing?” Dwarves were secretive about their daily lives, religious customs, and especially their language, so they knew above all how important it is when someone shares a piece of their cultural puzzle. 

“I would be delighted to, Balin,” Your grin was infectious, even having Thorin cracking a smile. 

Tags

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[another-lost-mc]

That Medieval Fantasy AU Lucifer fic you wrote has got to be one of my favorites. Would it be possible to ask for more of that AU? Maybe some of the interactions between meeting and the point of becoming official, or what life is like as someone courting dark elvish prince Lucifer?

Many thanks, write at your own leisure <3

Allow me to ramble about this AU because I adore it so much!

I have one more installment planned that is told mostly from the brothers' perspectives as they try to figure out why their big brother is acting so strange. It also delves into their kingdom's history, Lucifer's relationships with some of his siblings, and how that comes into play when they all finally meet the Alchemist (Reader).

Oh, and I have the introduction written. It's below the cut if you'd like to read it. It takes place just after Lucifer meets the Alchemist in the mines. [It may change before the final release but I think it sets the stage pretty well!]

Enjoy! 💙

Lucifer storms through the palace towards the council chambers where he knew his brothers were already waiting for him. He’s not known for being late, and more than one brother raises their eyebrows questioningly when he enters the room.

“Where’ve you been? We’ve been waitin’!” Mammon complains. 

Asmodeus covers his mouth with his hand. “What happened to your clothes? Is that blood?” 

Lucifer’s cloak is dripping from the rain, and there’s obvious dark stains on his clothes from bloodshed. His brothers all sniff and wrinkle their noses at the faint hint of copper that wafts after their oldest brother like a cloud; the scent of death lingers around him.

“Cerberus was attacked by a nest of plague spiders near the western border.” Lucifer explains as he unhooks his cloak and drapes it over a chair. He runs a hand through his hair, wet from the storm that broke through the sky before he could make it back. “Why haven’t the patrols taken care of those pests already?” he asks, glaring pointedly at Beelzebub, his brother responsible for overseeing the region’s defenses.

Beelzebub crosses his arms over his chest where he sits at the table, a half-eaten plate of food in front of him. “You said the nuisances were far enough into human territory that it was their problem, not ours,” he says defiantly, quoting his brother’s reasoning when he gave the order. 

Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose and realizes he’s right. It was easy to defend their forest from wayward travelers looking to cause trouble, but he knew that the foothills were not so lucky. He hoped that the rumors were untrue, or in the very least, that the humans living in that region would be able to take care of it themselves.

He remembers the large, plague-born spiders and how easily they were able to overwhelm Cerberus. He thinks about the human that would’ve died trying to save him, if Lucifer wasn’t able to locate them in time.

He glances down at the bandage wrapped around his forearm. He knows the spider’s scratch is already healed. Despite his elvish heritage and accelerated healing, he found himself speechless when the human approached him so fearlessly, so eager to help that he couldn’t bring himself to refuse their offer.

He nearly shudders when he remembers the way their fingers felt on his skin.

“Reinstate the western patrols,” he tells his brother. “The infected wildlife are a menace that the humans in the foothills are ill-equipped to deal with.”

Beelzebub salutes and resumes eating. “I’ll take care of it after our meeting.”

Lucifer sighs. “If there’s nothing else to discuss, this meeting is—”

Satan pipes up suddenly, eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes his brother’s arm. “Were you hurt? Why are you wearing a bandage?”

That got everyone’s attention. He tried to angle his body and keep his arm from view, but it was too late. “It’s nothing,” he grumbles with annoyance as Satan steps closer for a better look. Satan tries to pull the bandage off him, but Lucifer turns his body and knocks his arm away.

Satan frowns and sniffs the air. “It’s treated with some sort of healing potion,” he states wonderingly, and he’s visibly impressed. “Who gave you that? I’d like to discuss the recipe they use for their elixir. It doesn’t smell like any of the potions we make in the palace.”

Lucifer shakes his head and ignores the question. “Don’t you have more important things to worry about?” He gestures around the room at his brothers who are watching him with expressions that range from bewilderment to amusement. He growls in frustration and leaves, slamming the door behind him, and the others glance at each other.

“What was that about?” Leviathan asks nervously. He can’t remember the last time he saw Lucifer so worked up about something.

Beelzebub chews the last bit of his food and points at Asmodeus across the table from him; he’s admiring his nails and humming a jaunty tune. “Why do I have a feeling you know what’s going on with him?” he accuses his brother with narrowed eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Asmodeus asks in a sing-song voice. “Lucifer’s in love with someone.”

Belphegor lifts his head off the table and frowns even in his sleepy state, while Mammon spits out his swig of wine. “Whaddya mean, like, romantic love? Him?!”

Satan taps his chin thoughtfully. “He was in human territory today, and he was gone longer than expected. Perhaps he has a lover there?”

Leviathan scrunches his nose and Beelzebub leans forward on his elbows conspiratorially. “I wondered why he changed his mind about the patrols. I argued with him about it at first, but he refused to budge. He was convinced it wasn’t our problem to solve, until today.”

Belphegor yawns and scratches the back of his head. “How do we find out for sure?”

Mammon slams his palm on the table. “It’s obvious, ain’t it? We follow ‘em and see what he does.”

They all nod in agreement. Lucifer is their leader and more importantly, he is their brother. Whoever hoped to win his heart needed their approval, too.

#jes.replies #series: enchantment

[entishramblings]

The Innocence of Brutality Pt.2 [Legolas/F!Reader]

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

A.N: so here is part two! please let me know what you think!

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader is Rámaitë Mahtar, a warrior spirit race, and she meets the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring. 

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the Rámaitë Mahtar is not canon as I made up Rámaitë Mahtar. Also, all elvish was translated from a translator site—it may not be accurate.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: nudity (not sex), mentions of war, mentions of torture, violence, fluff

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

The Innocence of Brutality Masterlist

"So," Pippin began the next morning. "Who's gonna wake her?"

The fellowship stood in a line in front of (Y/N). Various expressions of worry, concern, and irritation upon their brows.

"Legolas," Aragorn stated simply.

"Why me?"

"She trusts you. She told you her name."

The elf sent his friend a glare, for that excuse was becoming annoying, but regardless he cautiously approached the winged woman.

He squatted down in front of her. "(Y/N)," he stated simply.

No movement.

"(Y/N)," he repeated.

No movement.

"It is morning. You must wake."

He lifted his hand. He knew he was going to regret this. He gently tapped her foot.

Instantly, those brilliant, curious, (e/c) eyes flung open.

Within seconds, Legolas was pinned facefirst onto the ground with her on top of him.

Yup. He regretted it.

Each member of the fellowship drew their weapons, well, except the hobbits who ducked behind their friends.

Gasping for breath, Legolas spoke. "(Y/N), please."

Instantly, her grip upon him loosened. "Legolas," she stated simply, no inflection upon her tone. With that, she stood up and began walking towards the embers of last night's fire, her wings knocking into Aragorn and Boromir. She didn't seem to even care that their weapons were drawn. Instead, she plopped down upon the log once more.

Legolas groaned as he rolled not his back, looking up at the sky.

The rest of the fellowship disbursed to gather their belongings, but Aragorn stood above the elf grinning. "Got the wind knocked out of ya, Princeling. Looks like you finally met someone who can put you on your ass."

"Shut it," the elf groaned.

Aragorn chuckled as he moved to help his friend up.

As Legolas was pulled onto his feet, he let his eyes drift to (Y/N). "Aragorn," he began. "I think she has what most men have when they see war."

"A murderous skill set?" he joked.

Legolas shook his head. "No, no. A haunted mind."

Aragorn raised his brow in question.

"Her wrists. Last night, I saw them covered in bruising. And her behavior is strange."

"Well, she is not of this world. Of course, it is strange."

Legolas sighed. "I know that, but strange in the sense of fearful...in a way. Jumping at touch as if she expects something worse. Turning at sounds that are a bit too quickly. And those damn eyes...She is always examining everything. I think she was tortured wherever she was before this."

Aragorn inhaled slowly. "Maybe there was some truth to what Gandalf said. Maybe she is dangerous."

Legolas' brows pulled downward, his eyes drifting to the wizard. "Whatever he knows, he doesn't want to share it."

The group was ready to continue their journey after a quick breakfast. So, they set off once again. The winged woman seemed to just follow along as if she had nothing better to do, which was entirely possible considering her circumstances.

As they went along for the three days, (Y/N) continued her curiosity.

She stayed relatively near Legolas or the hobbits, but she would only ask questions when she was beside the elf. Her questions, however, were her pointing to random objects as she walked and simply saying one word: "What."

He would answer.

First, (Y/N) pointed to a little creek. "What," she said.

He raised his brows, unsure at first, kinda lost aimlessly in his mind. "Hmm?"

She frowned at his lack of attention. She tugged on his sleeve and pointed once again. "What."

"A creek or river," he said. "It's water. It's what we drink."

She squinted. "Creek. River."

He nodded.

"Why men?"

He frowned, not understanding.

"Why men in river?"

Legolas squinted at the water. He saw no men. But, he saw a flash of orange. Then another. Fish. He suppressed a smile. (Y/N) had likely learned from their conversations that they were men. She probably generalized that to every living being.

"No. That is a fish."

"Ahh. A fish."

He nodded. "Yes."

The second example of her learning took place when a cluster of birds flew above them.

Immediately, that precious giggle spilled from her mouth. She grabbed Legolas' sleeve as she pointed to them. "Birds!" she recalled from their first conversation.

He smiled back.

The next couple of weeks consisted of this but progressing rather quickly. In no time, she could speak in almost full sentences. She had learned by listening, watching, and trying. Not to mention Legolas' help. It was rather scary, to some, Legolas assumed. But he loved it. He loved how she wanted to learn. He loved how intelligent she was—how intelligent she must be in order to learn so much so quickly. He could tell, however, that Gandalf didn't like it. The wizard sent the elf looks of discontent whenever he would teach her new words...or just in general. The elf didn't know why it was all such a bad thing. She seemed...harmless...almost.

That 'harmless' ideology soon changed though.

The fellowship had been crossing through an open plane with little coverage, and it was here when they were ambushed by a party of orcs. Not many, just under twenty, but enough to have them worried.

As soon as the first orc had been spotted, someone shouted. It was undetermined who did yell the warning, but that mattered not. They immediately surrounded the hobbits and pulled out their blades. It was too late to evade the beasts.

As the orcs then started yelling and snarling, the fellowship began making the circle tighter, ready to defend. It was at this time that (Y/N) was roughly shoved into the circle with the hobbits. And she didn't necessarily like it.

Those damn curious eyes of hers were wide as she absorbed every detail around them. She took in the terrain, the creatures before them, and the fear of her companions. She was trying to figure out what exactly was happening. She didn't understand, well, not at first, but as soon as Legolas fired the first arrow and the orcs began to charge, she knew.

The men she traveled with yelled battle cries as they too began swinging their weapons at the orcs.

She pushed past Legolas, determination upon her brow.

"(Y/N)! Get back!" Aragorn called out.

Instantly, Legolas' head snapped in her direction. He had not realized she slipped past him. Usually, he was pretty good at noticing her wearabouts—which wasn't necessarily hard because she was always hitting shit, and people, with her damn wings.

"(Y/N)!" he shouted.

But it mattered not.

The woman began to advance upon the orcs, her wingspan wide and held proud—despite the still healing injury.

As the first one neared her, she smacked it with her wing. It went flying backward about fifteen paces. It probably would have gone further if it hadn't knocked into two other orcs and took them down, but alas, shit happens. Quite unfortunate for the vile beasts. And even more so when the three of them stayed in that heap upon the soil–not even a groan sounding.

Another orc came at her. (Y/N) reached both her hands forward when he was near and she ripped the axe from him—as well as his arms. She threw the entire wood and flesh medley to the ground, ignoring the screaming coming from the creature. However, her palms were wrapped around his neck in seconds. A loud snapping sound then echoed in the open area.

It was brutal.

The orcs, now seeing her as a threat, started to target her. She, however, began to tear them apart—quite literally.

The next one that got close...well, his heart went missing. If you could even call it that. (Y/N) reached her hand through his chest and tore it out. She then squeezed it in her palm until it splattered everywhere.

Another orc approached her and she slammed her wing into it, knocking it to the ground. She then brought down the feathery mass and impaled the orc with its end. Black blood spluttered and sprayed.

Legolas' lips parted as he witnessed this. He quickly sliced the throat of an orc before turning back to look at (Y/N).

He had touched those wings. They had felt soft and comforting, not sharp and ready to impale through flesh and bone.

By the Valar–

At this point, almost every orc was charging her, and the fellowship was picking off the contorted, bloody, and barely alive bodies that she sent flying their way. Really though, driving their blades through the mangled orcs was a mercy at this point. It wasn't that they didn't want to help with all the fighting. It was that they didn't need to help.

(Y/N) bashed and broke every single one of those evil beasts. She used her whole body as a weapon. She needed no sword or knife. No bow or axe. She used her hands, feet, nails, teeth, and wings. She pulled them apart, ripping limb after limb clean off.

The whole thing was finished in a matter of minutes.

It was....horrifying.

(Y/N) turned back to face the fellowship, who stood frozen in awe, fear, disgust, surprise—every emotion possible, really—as they stared at her.

Coated in black, oozing blood, her form was buried in the death and decay she caused. She, however, was smiling with the liquid dripping from her mouth and skin.

She approached them, stepping on corpse after corpse. And with each step, she chanted one word. "Dead, dead, dead," she said, her feet squishing into puddles of body parts. "And more dead, dead, dead!"

She, still grinning, walked right up to Frodo and patted his head thrice. "Safe," she stated simply, happily.

With that, she turned on her heel and continued in their previous direction.

Parted lips of shock and apprehension were worn on every fellowship member's face, but still, the men began to follow her.

Aragorn leaned towards Legolas. "Not thinking she is so innocent anymore, are you?" The Ranger walked on, not waiting to hear Legolas' response. Regardless, he didn't have one.

As Gandalf huffed past the elf, bumping into him slightly, Legolas was jolted back to reality.

"Gandalf," he called out, jogging to catch up with the wizard. As his pace fell in step with the old man, he spoke again. "Gandalf, I–I believe you."

"Stupid elf," he mumbled. "You should have believed me from the start."

"Mithranduil," he said. "I want to know. I want to know what you won't tell us."

The wizard raised a wiery brow at him.

"Who is she? How is she—how is she—"

"So innocent yet so brutal?" he interjected, finishing Legolas' sentence.

Legolas nodded.

Gandalf exhaled through his nose. "You really want to know, elfling?"

"Yes. I do.

Gandalf huffed as they continued walking. "The Rámaite Mahtar came before me–before the Maiar. As I said before, there was a world before ours, not complete and not long-lived, but it existed. The Valar created them, the winged warriors, to destroy an evil that clung to the lands. And they did but at a great cost. They destroyed everything. They burned the world entirely–all good, all evil. They see no difference. They just killed. They killed every living thing until there was nothing but ashes."

Legolas frowned. "What happened to them?"

Gandalf sent a wary look (Y/N)'s way. "The Valar imprisoned them. Morgoth as their jailer."

"What? Why?"

"Why?!" Gandalf snapped. "Did you not just hear what I told you?"

"I did, Mithrandiul. I did," he replied calmly. "I just...I don't understand. Why didn't the Valar teach them? I mean, look at (Y/N), she can learn. She's learning so quickly!"

"She is learning our language and our behavior, but not the difference between good and evil. That she cannot learn. She only can kill."

The blue-eyed elf looked down. "I do not believe what you speak. I think there is more to her than just warrior."

Gandalf only huffed in disagreement. "That is because you haven't yet heard the worst of it."

"The worst of it?"

"The Rámaite Mahtar that was the most bloodthirsty, cruel, and vicious. The one inscribed into stone as barbaric and heinous. The one most feared. She was called (Y/N)."

Legolas stopped in his tracks, the words hitting him like that of an orc blow.

Gandalf still moved ahead, but the elf did not.

He stood, as still as a deer, trying to process the information.

It couldn't be so...It couldn't.

"Gandalf," Legolas called out weakly. "What–what would have happened if Sauron found her first?"

The wizard turned back to him, sending a warning look.

Legolas didn't need him to speak an answer. He knew what the wizard thought. He thought that they would soon find out. He thought that Sauron would take their winged warrior and she would instantly comply—that she would instantly kill them.

The elven Prince let his gaze drift to (Y/N), the most vicious of the Rámaite Mahtar. She was currently skipping with the hobbits, holding their hands and swinging their arms. Their laughter and giggles rippled through the air, drifting back to Legolas. Her blood-covered smile shown just as radiantly as her wings.

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

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#lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #legolas #legolas fic #Legolas fanfic #Legolas fanfiction #LOTR fic #LOTR fanfic #LOTR fanfiction #fic #Legolas x reader #Legolas/reader #vayawrites

[i-was-bored-so-this-happened]

Greensleeves Chapter Eight: The Lost Art Of Keeping A Secret

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: N/A Wordcount: 4.1k

As the party find a routine, things seem to settle down. Then Xaph learns what killed that boar. And what's bothering Gale. She shares her own burdens.

Read on AO3 Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gale and Xaph don’t get their quiet moment, not for over a week. Their night watch schedules don’t line up, and the House of Hope has provided them with enough food for over a tenday so there’s no need to forage. No one protests when Gale cements himself as camp cook, and he listens attentively when Xaph talks to him about mushrooms, when Wyll shows him how to decoratively cut fruit as though for presentation. Even Lae’zel starts to wean off her gith rations. The party figures out their hierarchy. Xaph has slipped into a leadership role. She manages to keep them on task and she knows how to navigate the land. She’s smart, and she has good instincts, and it’s working so far. Wyll is invaluable, a seasoned adventurer who does an excellent job of keeping tempers below boiling point. More than once he has to separate Lae’zel and Shadowheart like spitting cats, and that’s where Astarion comes in. He and Shadowheart bitch to one another in Elvish and they’re as secretive about their personal lives as ever but it gives them an outlet and no one can begrudge them that. Xaph takes Lae’zel to a dead tree and lets her take out her feelings on it. Joins her, sometimes. The rift between races is eased, if not yet quite erased, and the party at large begins to find their rhythm. The nightwatch rota is set and solid. The only true rule is not to schedule Lae’zel and Shadowheart together, not until they burn through the fighting frictions between them in daylight hours. Everyone has learned how to erect and collapse their own tents, though it still takes Astarion a while, and that rest time is precious and shouldn’t be wasted. Time spent around the campfire feels precious too. It’s around their food they begin to understand each other and build trust. 

One night, Xaph is restless. She’s caught in limbo,not quite awake and not quite asleep. The worm is exploring her brain and she just can’t get comfortable. Eventually, she wedges an arm under her head so her horns don’t dig into the ground and closes her eyes against the stars, determined that the worm is not going to take another night of sleep from her. In the end, this struggle might be a good thing. She’s only just barely asleep when she senses it. A presence. Not far away, either. Close. An animal, perhaps, tempted by the smell of food. A light-footed goblin scout. A vampire, she remembers the exsanguinated boar. When her eyes open, she’s still not sure what she’s looking at. Astarion. Pale as the moon against the night sky. His red eyes look down into her green ones, both sets equally surprised. Fangs an inch away from her throat.

“Shit.” He knows that she knows, but Xaph acts before he does. She moves instinctively, bringing a leg up to hook it over his hip and rolling until she has him pinned and her arm is braced against his collarbone. When he lifts his hands her tail snaps forward and smacks his wrist and he obediently holds his hands above his own head. He knows she’s stronger than him. “If you wanted to be on top, darling, you only had to ask,” the words are familiar, every jab he ever has is said as though he and his combatant are between sheets, but the tone is a little off, “Listen, it’s not what it looks like.”

“It looks like you’re a vampire.” Xaph says plainly. 

“Alright, so maybe it’s a little bit what it looks like.” Astarion admits. Is he…pleading? Desperation does not suit him. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.” Xaph eases her weight off him, and again his eyes widen in surprise as he scrambles into a seated position.

“Talk.” Does she trust him? Yes, yes, she thinks she does. He’s scared, and he’s still close enough that she can grab and overpower him.

“I just needed…well, blood.”

“That was your kill, wasn’t it? That boar.” She does trust him. Trusts him to have her back in a fight, and that’s what she needs.

“I’m not some monster. I feed on animals. Boar, deer, kobolds. Whatever I can get.”

“It’s not enough, is it?” Xaph asks, “You couldn’t even hide that boar.”

“The pig was fucking heavy!” Astarion cries, taking offence and throwing his hands out, but he sighs. “You’re right. I’m too slow right now. Too weak. If I had just a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.” Yes, he’s pleading. She doesn’t know how to feel about it. A strange sensation charges through Xaph’s veins. He’s opening his mind to her, like Lae’zel had. He’s opening up. She was starting to think he couldn’t do that. He’s letting her in. She accepts, but tentatively. Letting him lock her out at any moment, but he doesn’t. Their worms connect with only minimal squirming. The memories are full of cracks and they shake. Scared. She’s seeing through his eyes again and none of the faces are clear, but there are dark eyes at the centre of all of them. Commanding. And he’s compelled. He can’t resist. But he doesn’t get to choose what he eats.

“That’s who you were talking about. The one who liked to play with people. Your master.” Xaph says, hushed. His ears relax, the very tips drooping. She didn’t know elf ears could move like that. Never paid enough attention to them, she supposes.

“Yes. Yes, I ate whatever disgusting vermin my master picked. So you can see why I’m slow to trust you,” he hesitates here, as though he’s not fully comfortable with his next words, “But I do trust you. And you can trust me.” Xaph watches him. She keeps her hands on her knees, palms up and open. 

“I do,” she tells him, and she knows she does, “I believe you.”

“Thank you.” It’s the most genuine gratitude she’s ever heard from him. “Do you think you could trust me just a little further? I only need a taste. I swear.” It makes sense. To feed from her, asleep and unknowing or awake and willing, would expend far less energy than chasing something and having to hold it down until it stops moving. He’s hungry. He’s in pain. He’s in need.

“Alright.” Xaph says eventually, and he’s surprised all over again. He’d expected her to shove a stick through his ribs, slice him open with his own dagger. The surprise pinches Xaph’s stomach. How long has it been since he was trusted? “But not a drop more than you need. I rather like life, whatever of it I’ve got left.”

“Really?” There, for just a moment, his confidence falters. The smooth veneer that covers his words shows a single hairline crack. “Of course,” he recovers quickly, “Not one drop more.”

“What do I do?” Xaph asks. Astarion gestures towards the bedroll,

“As you were. More comfortable, you see.”

She obliges. She has the upper hand should things go south. She lies on her back, as she had been, arm wedged under her head. Astarion hovers above her, going back to his own pose. He’s high on his knees, and each hand presses into the ground by her shoulders. She has the upper hand she has to remind herself. She’s not used to feeling like prey. The fangs are like shards of ice in her neck. Cold isn’t a familiar experience. Tiefling blood runs hellfire hot. It doesn’t hurt, not exactly, but it’s not pleasant either. Numb pressure on her neck, and a draining sensation. She can feel her pulse in the roof of her mouth, and then it starts to recede. To fade. Lightheadedness punches in. She punches him, pushing her fists into his shoulders until he detaches himself from her neck. He’s out of breath, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Xaph’s blood. She can’t say she’s ever experienced this before. Her hand goes to her throat and finds twin puncture wounds, just like that boar. Her hand comes away coated red.

“Amazing,” that single word carries more weight than every syrupy pick-up-line he’s tried combined, “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel…happy.”

“I should hope so,” the night air is freezing against the bite marks, “I’m glad I could help.”

“Raphael was right about one thing. Your heart does bleed something awful. Not that I’m complaining.”

“I look forward to seeing you fight. Maybe you’ll win our next duel.” Xaph says, and it’s refreshing to hear him laugh. She wonders if her blood will bring colour to his cheeks.

“If you’ll excuse me. You’re invigorating, but I need something more filling,” Astarion says this somewhat dismissively, but he doesn’t turn away from her until she nods and settles back on her bedroll. Maybe now she’ll sleep. She sits up again to retrieve the blanket that had been tossed to the side when she’d launched herself at Astarion, and she sees that he hasn’t fully left yet. His back is to her, but his head is turned to the side so she can see his lips moving when he says,

“This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

***

Gale doesn’t sleep any more than Xaph does, pain chewing at his ribs and the muscles of his chest. Eventually, he rolls over and tugs the flap of his tent open to let the sunrise in. He can’t bring himself to move any further, not yet, so he lies on his stomach and lets the sun warm him up. Watches the rays of light dapple through the leaves on the trees. Xaph is already awake. She’s tied a burlap sack that must be full of rags and leather scraps to a branch, and is practicing with her bow. She’s still working on getting her arm in, and she can be found practicing most early mornings. Her stance is impeccable. She’s barefoot, as she tends to be in camp, her trousers slung low on her hips. She isn’t wearing a shirt, just her smallclothes. Red fabric that covers her chest and little else. Gale can see every muscle in her back moving, tensing, releasing. She’s strong. Could she lift him, if she wanted? The pink light of dawn is tinting her skin lilac. The skin of her back, her arms, is fascinating. There are raised lines, small spots. Freckles everywhere. Everywhere? No. Don’t. He has to move. He can’t lie here and watch her and let his mind wander. He manages to pull himself up into a seated position without making too much noise, though several muscles he’d forgotten about clench in complaint. 

Astarion enters the picture, the frame made by the blue fabric of the tent. His skin shines in the sun. His shirt is unlaced, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. He must say something, because Xaph turns her head to look at him as she lets her last arrow fly. Astarion gestures, and she raises her bow again though she frowns at him. She pulls her bow to full draw and he slides his hands over her shoulders as though to adjust her position. Down her arms, along every bump and ridge. Gale doesn’t know what to make of it, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the interaction and he fumbles for his clothes blindly. Xaph turns, shaking Astarion’s hands off her, and relaxes her own arms. She shows him how her fingers are positioned on the string of her bow, and Gale can’t quite tell but he thinks he sees her fingers flutter as they change position over and over again. Her gaze is fixed on her fingers. Astarion is watching her face. She smiles. She never shows her teeth, they’ve noticed. Astarion’s head tilts to the side. Then he puts his arms on her shoulders again. He pushes, turning her. Turning her to face Gale’s tent. Red eyes have found him. He’s been caught. At least he’s found a shirt to pull on before he’s dragged out of his tent.

“Don’t skulk, wizard.” Astarion calls. Xaph hisses something at him about not waking the others, hitting his shoulder, but he just smiles back at her. Down at her, he’s taller if you don’t count the horns. She elbows him and Astarion stumbles dramatically, hands clutched to his stomach as though she’s stabbed him. They talk a bit more, and Gale thinks he hears think about it, Astarion, as he ducks out of his tent. He’s managed to wrap his shirt around himself and tie it, but he’s struggling with the ties at his wrists and he doesn’t want to conjure a mage hand just for it to flicker in and out of the air. That would be one too many embarrassing missteps. First getting stuck in a rock, then freezing in combat, and then to fail at a simple cantrip? No, better to leave the ties trailing. When he reaches Xaph her back is turned to him as she pulls her arrows from her makeshift target. She leaves both her quiver and her bow against the tree. Navy, three or four shades darker than the rest of her skin, stripes her stomach. Previous battles scar the skin of her limbs. There’s a mark on her neck, but he can’t quite make out what it is. A small pile of fabric by the tree turns out to be a robe that falls past her knees. Deep green and patterned with yellowing ginkgo leaves. The ranger allows herself some luxuries then. 

“Shall we walk?” she asks, extending an arm to the woods. The sleeve of the robe is a handwidth wider than it needs to be and as she moves various sections of her abdomen are shadowed and highlighted. “Astarion can handle the watch until someone else wakes up.”

Xaph meanders away from camp, careful not to be walking with Gale rather than ahead of him. Something about this feels soft and timeless. The party don’t spend the majority of their time in simple clothes, and when they make camp it’s Xaph and Lae’zel who have the least qualms about shedding layers. Not Gale. He sits by the fire and tells stories and lulls the camp to sleep, but always wrapped up in purple robes. She didn’t know the shirt under his robe was the kind he has to fold about himself and tie at the sides. It ends halfway to his knees, not yet tucked into his trousers. The neck is a wide v, a shape she knows, but there’s a mark in the skin she hadn’t noticed before. Part of a circle, wispy. A tattoo. The wizard can be surprising when he wants to be. The silver in his hair is turned gold by the dawn, and the brown of his eyes reveal hidden depths in the light. He could weave enchantments with a squint of his eyes alone, she thinks.

The bank of the Chionthar is only fifteen minutes away. Trees rustle above their heads and the river rushes beneath their feet. Xaph settles cross-legged on the bank and lets her tail dip into the water just to feel it. Successfully tempted, she reaches out and lets her fingers slip under the surface. The water of the Chionthar is clear here, though she stirs up some mud with her fingers. Gale finds a low, nearby rock and sits. In silence. He watches as she devotes herself to feeling. The end of her sleeve is falling into the water but she doesn’t care. Her hair is loose and falling over her shoulder. Sunlight, pale yellow, dances on the river. Ripples where she makes contact. Sets her hair alight. A stranger could mistake her for a naiad if they stumbled upon her like this.

“It’s a wonderful morning.” Xaph whispers, her words a lily pad alighting on the river.

“A picture.” Gale agrees. Neither of them voice the next part of the sentiment. How many more mornings will they see? This morning, this sight. Immortalised in their minds for fear it might be their last. In another life they might be seeing it memorised in paint. Rather, Gale would see it in paint. Xaph may have seen the real thing. Felt the cold water against warm skin. Breathed the fresh air, nearby moss. She shuffles to face him, wiping her hand dry on her trousers before she presents it to him.

“Here. Let me tie those.” She offers. He leans forward after a moment’s hesitation, letting Xaph takes his hands into her lap. She smells of ginger. Their hands have touched often enough that the contrast of colour is no longer off-putting, but Xaph doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to how soft the skin of Gale’s palm is. She’s all too aware of her claws, as though she’s liable to tear him open. As though he’s made of silk. But he trusts her. He said so. She finds one set of ties and brings them high above his wrist. “You wax poetic about my virtues, Mr of Waterdeep, as though you have none of your own.”

“I can’t imagine what-”

“Shush.” She tells him, pushing a thumb into his pulse. She doesn’t expect him to listen, but he does. When she pushes, his fingers curl in on themselves. His veins are almost purple in his wrist.

“You’re a good man. You helped me without even knowing me. You calm Lae’zel and you take Shadowheart’s jabs,” when she looks up from her fingers it is directly into his eyes and they’re like pots of honey as light shines on him, “We trust one another, but we haven’t been entirely honest with each other, have we? And we are not in a situation that is conducive to keeping secrets. You intend on being honest with me, so I will be honest with you.” She leaves Gale’s wrist, now wrapped in the cuff of his sleeve, and moves onto the other one. Once she starts to work on that knot she looks up at him again. She’s offering him a trade, and he’s going to take it. He’s going to take it, but it still takes him a beat to get the words out.

“You see, I have this…condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly,” Xaph’s brow furrows, but she doesn’t interrupt, “The specifics are rather personal, but suffice it to say that it is a malady I have learned to live with - though not without some effort.”

“Does it hurt?” she asks then. The back of his hand is flush to one of her palms, and the fingers of her other hand have stilled and curled around his wrist. The combination of contact and words soothes, if only superficially.

“Yes. Yes, it does. But one must take these things one step at a time. What it comes down to is this,” here he goes, all or nothing. Well. Not quite all. Not yet. “Every so often I need to get my hands on a powerful magical item and absorb the Weave inside.”

“Raw magic? Why?” 

“I can say no more on the matter. Not now, anyway. Just trust me when I say it’s all of vital importance. It’s been days since I last consumed an artefact. Since before we were abducted. By that I mean it is imperative that I find and consume the Weave at the earliest possible juncture, and I need your help to do so.”

“Where do we find these artefacts?” Xaph asks. We, that’s a positive. She finishes the knot at his cuff and settles her hands in her lap.

“As luck would have it, Faerun is full of them. Though I do feel obliged to point out that items of power tend to be in hands of power. There will be danger involved. Or great cost.”

“That sounds about on track with our lives at the moment,” Xaph admits when it’s clear that he’s done, “It sounds draining. Unlike anything I’ve ever heard of. Mind, I’m not primarily a spellcaster,” she pauses, then shifts so her palms are open to his again, “You ask me for help. I offer my hands.” Gale thanks her in as few words as he can manage, which is still a good dozen more than most people would use, and Xaph prepares to uphold her end of the bargain.

“I told you I’d had brushes with the infernal before. I’ve met Raphael more than once. He did offer me a deal, like I said, but that was only a year ago. Ten years ago I was messing around somewhere I shouldn’t have been, and Mephistopheles noticed. My family’s from his line, you see. He thought I’d found something - to this day I don’t know what - and he handed me over to his son to get the information out of me. Raphael had his fun with me but he knew I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I convinced him that I would be more useful to him alive than to his father dead.”

“You signed a deal.” Gale realises aloud. She’d told Wyll she hadn’t.

“Not in the traditional sense. It wasn’t a contract for my soul, no devil could convince me to part with that. It was a contract for work. Twenty years commission. I owe him one job a year, no questions asked. In exchange, my family and I are sheltered from Mephistopheles.” She ends her story there, staring at her tail in the river.

“Like you told Lae’zel. Your people aren’t compliant. You’re survivors. And you survived.” Gale lets his hand find Xaph’s. His fingers circle her thumb, not wanting to cross any sort of boundary he’s unaware of, but her fingers curl around his hand and squeeze. “You outmanouevered an archdevil and talked a cambion’s price down from your soul. Frankly, Xaph, I’m impressed.” A smile flickers. Her skin is warm and textured and he lets his hand sit in hers until she pulls away and starts to fiddle with a ring on her pinkie finger. It’s a plain thing, that ring, a copper band that only holds a single stone. An opal, he suspects, from the ever-shifting colours of it. He’s never seen her without it, but now she takes it off. Slowly easing it over the knuckle, leaving a strip of skin that is a slightly paler blue than the rest of her, hidden from the sun. She holds it out to him without a word. He takes it, though he’s a little confused as to why he’s being asked to examine it. Was it a gift from Raphael? Could he even use that word for such a thing? He knows the answer the moment he touches it. This ring is stuffed full of magic. It sits in his palm and he passes his other hand over it. The ring levitates, then drops.

“This is a ring of sending,” sending stones. Rare, powerful magic. Smiths in the Sembia region used to set them in gold necklaces. No mention of Sembia comes without mention of Netheril. “Where did you get this? If you don’t mind my asking.” Pain makes his manners something of an afterthought, but Xaph doesn’t begrudge him an answer,

“My mother made it,” she’s rubbing the join between her finger and her palm, “She made two pairs. One for me, and one for Quahala,” her sister, the one that lives in Waterdeep, “So that no matter what plane we were on, we would never be lost to her. Spell went a bit wonky a couple years ago and she couldn’t fix it. Only works when it wants now, but it does still hold magic.” She had been heard crying and cursing a few nights ago by Wyll and Shadowheart. Was this the reason? Had she been wrestling with the ring, trying to reach her family?

“I know it does,” Gale closes his hand around the ring, just for a moment, to strengthen his resolve. Then, “This is a precious thing to you. I can’t accept it.” When he goes to give her the ring back, she pushes his hand away.

“Take it.”

“Xaph-”

“Gale. It doesn’t work, and it can help you. Take it.” She insists. Compassion. Sympathy. She can’t bring herself to smile. It feels like she’s giving him her whole finger, ring still on. He tries to say her name again, but the soft sound of it is drowned out by a yell in the distance.

“A vampire?”

“Oh shit.” Xaph stands and brushes her trousers off.

“I’m sorry, did Lae’zel just say-”

“She did. Well. Uh. We all have our secrets. Astarion’s is that he’s a vampire, and it seems he’s decided to tell the whole camp without me,” her words are rushed and panicked now, and their sanctuary is broken, “Excuse me, I need to make sure they don’t kill him.” Xaph races away without another word. Her robe billows out behind her as she rockets back to camp. Gale is left sitting on the rock, her ring burning through his palm.

#rae's writing #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 #bg3 oc #rae's ocs #xaph [tav] #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #lae'zel #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion #astarion ancunin #raphael #bg3 raphael #greensleeves

[tanoraqui]

Trick or treat! :D

From the outline document of Maker’s Marks, the au where Celebrimbor swears an Oath and gets sent back to fulfill it. Unfortunately, I’m unlikely to write more of this any time soon…but I do open the scene-sprinkled outline sometimes and gently, wistfully pet it.

Faramir had expected there to be singing, in the casting of a great Elvish spell. Instead, Celebrimbor just took a steady stance facing east and threw off his grey cloak, and with it, some much greater shield - and suddenly, he shone, not just in his eyes but in his hair, in his very skin. Faramir had thought he knew great power before - his father was mighty in spirit and will; and he had glimpsed a deep well in Mithrandir once, when the wizard let him; and once, he’d been caught in a riptide in Dol Amroth, and nearly drowned.

This was most comparable to the riptide. Except surely Celebrimbor was a forest fire, rather than anything of water. It was suddenly extremely easy to believe that this was an elf who had known the time before sun and moon.

[“Celebrity Status” by Marianas Trench is playing]

Faramir, experiencing his first fuck-you–tier Calaquendi: what the fuck what the fuck

“Hey, Annatar!” the shining legend shouted in a dialect of Quenya so ancient that Faramir had only ever seen it written, with a tone like [“You’re on the wrong side of the river” (The Mummy)]. “I’ll show you Fëanorian pride.”

He dropped gracefully to his knees and slammed his hands down on the metal strip - and the starlight blazed out from his hands and streaked down the line in both directions, and in every direction from each intersection until only a second later, the whole pattern was blazing like a constellation fallen to earth.

The Nazgul screamed as one, and streaked toward them through the dusky sky.

Celebrimbor collapsed like a dead man.

There was a sudden blaze of light from the distant fortifications, followed an instant later by the most bone-chilling screech yet. But the monstrous wraiths were far away again, so it only took Pippin a moment to rally his spirit and squint at the light, which showed no sign of diminishing. It wasn’t really bright, he thought, but compared to the darkness it was almost blinding.

“Is that the shape of a star, do you think?” he asked Beregrond.

[Gandalf voice] “Fool of a Noldo!”

#runawaymun #ask meme #lotr #celebrimbor #my fic

[powderpinkprincess]

Can't do it [Legolas x human! reader]

I think this one is my longest so far 🤔

Description: Legolas comforts you

tw: mentions of war

Heavy raindrops fell from the sky.

You looked up and all you saw were the grey clouds covering the sky. Misty darkness was all around you, and there was no way out now. You inhaled the thick air deeply. It couldn’t fill your lungs enough. Your hand wandered to your sword. You felt slow. Anxiety gripped your chest and you forced yourself to breathe in again.

Your eyes wandered to Legolas and Aragorn in front of you. They were talking in Elvish so quietly that you barely heard them. Not that it mattered as you spoke no more Elvish than ‘Mae govannen’. On your better days, you could even add ‘mellon nin’. Too bad you didn’t have enough Elvish friends to actually use the sentence. As if Gimli was reading your thoughts, he grumbled at your side.

 “The politeness is appreciable. I feel so honored by them waiting for us and involving us in their conversation.”

You chuckled. It didn’t bother you as much as it used to. You learned that Aragorn and Legolas had much more experience than you did, so there was no point in involving you anyway. You were tired enough to just be grateful for a moment of peace. It was enough if they found out something safe and filled you in later.

Suddenly, Legolas stopped. He placed an arrow on his bow before you could even comprehend that something was happening. He glanced around. You could practically feel his focus on his surroundings. Elves had this strange ability to hear and see things no one else could, so when you listened and heard nothing, it didn’t surprise you. Gimli opened his mouth to speak, but Aragorn raised his hand to silence him. When Legolas sharpened all his senses to find out what he heard in the distance, it was not smart to talk near him as he found it unpleasingly loud.

You even held your breath as you stared at his face, hoping to see any kind of a signal to know if you were in danger. His eyes were so blue. His soft features now looked stiff with concentration. Even in this humid darkness, his hair held a light, sparkling shade of gold that you admired. Next to him, all of you looked so dirty and ugly. At first, it really bothered your sense of confidence that you felt like an Orc when you saw him, but now the feeling melted into simple adoration.

Therefore, when Aragorn gestured to you to come closer, you were still staring at Legolas, not noticing the hole in the ground. You landed on the ground with a thud, and unwanted tears pricked your eyes when you felt the sharp pain in your left ankle. Now you were entirely doomed.

 “I’m sorry,” you whined as you looked up at your companions. Legolas lowered his arrow, and Aragorn reached out a hand toward you.

 “Are you hurt?” the ranger asked with a frown. He pulled you up and sat you on a rock by the pathway.

 “I can walk,” you insisted quietly, though your voice held some uncertainness. You twisted your ankle badly when you fell. Shame and guilt filled your heart. Shame, because if you could take your eyes off Legolas for merely a minute, you would have noticed the hole. And now your companions had to deal with you, too.

Aragorn untied your boot without a question and his eyebrows rose.

 “I do not think you will walk,” he shook his head. You glanced down, noticing how your ankle already started to swell.

 “How did you not see that hole anyway?” Aragorn asked, looking back at the obvious sight on the path.

Your cheeks reddened.

 “I do not know,” you lied immediately, hoping that he will let his question unanswered. He looked slightly amused.

 “I will carry you out. Legolas, how much we have left?” he turned to the Elf, whose expression was unreadable to you. Did he know why you fell? You would die if he did.

 “Not so much. I can already see the end.”

 “Another five hours or so, then,” Gimli mumbled sarcastically. You could tell he was already done with this forest as much as you were. He leaned on his axe, panting slightly. Keeping up with human-sized creatures over a long distance was not the easiest thing for him as his small legs needed to carry him almost as quickly as he was running. You found it really funny when Legolas sometimes turned back to him saying something like ‘come on, Gimli, we need to hurry’, not knowing if the Elf was really that clueless or simply was just teasing the Dwarf.

***

Aragorn ended up carrying you until you reached your spot for the night, which you found impressive. Legolas volunteered to do the first night watch as he needed much less sleep than any of you did. You adored his heart. He stayed up significantly more than the rest of the small companion, even if he could just let you all split the watches equally. Aragorn told him to wake him up on time when it was his turn, though at this point of the journey everyone knew that Legolas would let him sleep in longer. Seemingly the sleep deprivation did nothing to the Elf. He slept three or four hours a night, which was enough for him to function. Moreover, there had been a rough night when you all could not stop to rest, and he did not seem to mind that either.

You fell asleep almost immediately when you got the chance. In the middle of the night, you were awoken by your bladder, and you winced at the thought of pushing off your blanket and finding a bush in the cold darkness. However, nature was calling you, there was nothing you could do against it.

You felt absolutely horrible. Your ankle hurt a lot and you were miserable. Being away from home was always so much worse in the darkness. You glanced up at the stars. They kept shining, no matter what. They held the same light months ago as now, when a war was about to start at any given minute. A war. It was unfathomable to you. You grew up in peace. Even if you would survive a battle somehow, who knew what came after? And what would happen to all the people you loved? You were too small and weak to save them all. Hell, you could barely even protect yourself. Merely the thought of it gave you a feeling of anxiety that led to tears. You were terrified.

You limped back to your blanket, wiping your cheeks and sniffling. You nearly screamed when you saw a shadow moving right next to you.

 “It is just me,” you heard Legolas whisper on your side.

 “Why on Arda are you still awake?” you questioned. Your heart was still racing, and you blew out the air to calm yourself. Elves walked so quietly that your human ears were unable to hear their footsteps. Legolas had scared you quite a few times already.

 “I do not need as much sleep as you do.”

The faint flames of fire gave you a sight of his form. You forced your eyes to see him better. His presence always comforted you.

 “You are crying,” he noted the obvious.

 “I am not,” you replied, and then sniffled again. His lips curved into a small smile. You turned your head away.

 “Why are you crying? Does your ankle hurt that much?” he asked, his eyes puzzled. Not only you had never seen him shed a single tear, but you had never seen him suffer any sort of an injury, either. He could not understand you, yet he tried to put the pieces together, and you found it adorable. You chuckled and wiped your eyes again.

 “No, it really does not. I am just- A little homesick, I guess,” you admitted finally.

Silence fell between the two of you. Legolas took a step closer to you, scrutinizing your form, his eyes deep with thoughts. He did not really know how to comfort anyone that was crying. Elves barely even cried, you knew that. As his glance found yours, a question slipped through your lips.

 “Legolas- Does anything ever scare you?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but then he closed it. You were not sure if he got what you meant behind the words. You were not sure what kind of an answer you looked for, either.

 “Like- The war. Does it scare you?” you breathed out.

 “Of course it does. I am pretty sure it scares everyone that has any living spirit in them here on Middle Earth. Even the trees feel different, you know. They grew silent.”

Here he was, talking about the speaking trees again. Another thing you could not understand. You inhaled sadly, and looked away for a second before finding his blue irises again.

 “What do they sound like?”

Legolas put his palm on your forearm, gesturing towards the fire. You grabbed your blanket and sat down on the ground. He followed you.

 “It is not really a sound. It is more like- A feeling,” he replied to you, deep in his thoughts. “I do not really know how to explain. You can feel them with your whole body. Like the resonations of music maybe. Some are vibrant, some are slow and sad. And these days, lots of them are just silent.”

Before you could speak, he continued.

 “It is not shameful to fear something so devastating. And for you, maybe even unknown.”

A new wave of tears clouded your vision.

 “I do not think I can do this all,” you choked out. Legolas hummed.

 “You would be surprised to see what the race of Men could endure. You are stronger than you think.”

 “Legolas, I have no magical powers, I can not see the enemy coming from miles away, and I have not lived thousands of years to gain enough experience for a battle. I know nothing. I am nothing like you,” you admitted bitterly, this time letting the tears run down your face. Your heart hurt too much to move.

 “You do not even have to be,” the Elf shook his head. You could feel his stare on your face, but you refused to look at him. “Elves do have the experience, but humans have the ingenuity. Your lives are short, therefore you are able to adapt like no one else. You all are strong enough in your own way. Otherwise, the race of Men would have not survived among all the other creatures of Middle Earth.”

You said nothing.

 “And you are my friend, Y/N. If I see that you are in trouble, I will not hesitate to help you out, I promise you. There is no need for those tears of yours. You are safe as long as you are with us.”

His words made your chest feel warm again. Yes, you were still terrified, but the uncertainty felt much less excruciating with someone like him by your side, and you were truly, entirely grateful for that.

#legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas thranduilion #legolas fanfiction #lotr #legolas imagine #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #lord of the rings #legolas x oc #legolas x reader

[insomniaruler]

Two weddings and a couple wishes for a few more

Their first wedding was Jimmy’s favourite. It was a beautiful day with white clouds drifting lazily across a cerulean sky. It was Truce Day, when once a week people would meet up somewhere and take record, hold funerals, and forget about the wars and petty disputes for four hours. And it was in this moment of peace their wedding was held.

Ren and Jimmy stood at the alter. Both dressed in their least blood stained clothes, Joel stood at Jimmy’s right side, as best man. Grian played a slow march on a set of pan pipes he’d dug up from somewhere. And Scott began to walk down the aisle just behind Scar, who was making an impeccable flower Boy. Scott was gorgeous, daisies, poppies and bluebells were threaded through his hair and his suit was a soft blue.

Looking at him brought tears to Jimmy’s eyes, somehow Scott was real, and had chosen Jimmy. When Scott reached the alter Ren started his speech. “Enemies and Friends, dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to witness the union between Jimmy Solidarity and Scott Smajor who have somehow found true love in this dark world. So, Scott Smajor do you, take Jimmy Solidarity to be your lawlessly wedded husband in sickness and in health, in wealth and desolation, from Green to Red, till death do you part?” Ren asked turning to Scott. “I do.” Scott said, tears sparkling in his eyes.

“And Jimmy Solidarity do you, take Scott Smajor to be your lawlessly wedded husband in sickness and in health, in wealth and desolation, from Green to Red, till death do you part?” Ren continued, turning to Jimmy. “I do.” Jimmy whispered looking softly at Scott. “Then with the power invested in me as the King of Dogwarts, you may kiss the Groom.“WOOOOOO!!!!” Joel cheered and wolf whistled as they kissed.

—/—

The second was somehow even less official. If you looked there’d be no records of these two even Interacting on positive terms. But somehow they found each other again.

This wedding was Scott’s favourite. They stood facing each other. Flower crowns on their brows. Far lighter then any crown either had to wear. “Have I told you how much I’ve missed you?” Jimmy muttered. “Not quite enough sunflower.” Scott said laughing at the light pink colour Jimmy flushed. “By the Cods then. I have missed you so much it hurt.” Jimmy said seriously, hold Scott’s face in his hands. Scott leaned into the touch smiling at Jimmy through his eyelashes. Scott snorted in a very un elvish way.

“Well then… Codfather Jimmy Solidarity, do you take me, Scott Smajor, King of Rivendell to be you almost lawful husband. In sickness and in health, through rich and poor, from King to pauper, till death do us part?” Scott asked holding Jimmy’s hands. “I do.” Jimmy said smiling broadly. “Scott Smajor, King of Rivendell, do you take me, Codfather Jimmy Solidarity to be you nearly lawful husband. In sickness and in health, through rich and poor, from King to pauper, till death do us part?” Jimmy asked. “I do.” Scott said smirking. It was hardly official but that was okay.

Their first date, the day after they married as to go find enough gold to create to wedding bands, one inlaid with diamonds the other with emeralds. Scott frowned over the rings of metal, a fine diamond carving tool clutched in his hands as he carved two poppies and a combined crest into the inner side of each ring. “Here you are Sunflower.” Scott said handing Jimmy the ring. “Love you Petal.” Jimmy said leaning onto Scott.

—/—

Scott looked softly at Jimmy as he walked proudly around his town. Looks like his stupid idiot had done well for himself this life. The town may have been plain but it was a far cry from the monstrosity of a hobbit hole from The First Game. Scott sighed leaning on the boulder. Jimmy hadn’t Remembered quite yet. It was always a switch up. Last time Jimmy Remembered him and the Game when he dawned the Cod Father Head. He only Remembered when his antlers started to grow in.

And it seemed this time he was the first to Remember his husband and the lives they lived over and over again. By the gods he missed his Idiot… he just had to wait, Jimmy would Remember soon enough.

—/—

Jimmy looked off the top of the Mansion looking at the shining sea, where Scott was living. Sighing sadly he wondered how he was. They’d barely even spoken this season. And then Scott was the only green left. Jimmy didn’t know why he couldn’t say ‘love you to’ to the man he’d shared countless lives with. Perhaps he had another curse on top of his Canary curse. The ‘Can’t fucking talk to your husband who you’re about to hunt for sport because the watchers stuck you in a fucked up murder game curse™️’

“Jimmy! We get it! You miss your husband and you’re having angst time but if you’re not fishing your not helping!” Joel yelled, waving his sun glasses.

#empires smp #empires s1 #empires s2 #3rd life #limited life #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands

[secret-fungi]

Moonlit Garden

Pairing: Tyril x F! elf MC (odelia)

word count: 2k (i tried so hard dudes)

Rating: e

Category: Fluff and smut (ik it surprised me too)

warnings: sex

Summary: Tyril shows mc what he's done in their absence.

a/n: im not good at smut dont come at me im fragile

Tags @lawrencebarkley @choicesficwriterscreations @desired-love-

Tyril pulled yet another weed from his plant as Odelia walked up, a smile on her lips as she took in the garden. “I didn’t think you were the type.” she says “Neither did i, but in your absence…” he trailed off “busy hands, my father suggested.” he adds with a huff. 

“Mal and nia had kids, and you… made a garden.” she says with a fond smile on her lips. “Flowers are a bit like kids, they have different needs, must have food, water, proper care…” At this she covered her mouth with her hand in a poor attempt to stifle her laughter. 

“Haven’t been around many children, have you, Tyril?” “Of course I have, I’m excellent with them.” he brags, rising to his feet. “Somehow, I don’t trust that.” she teased. “You don’t have to believe, you could join me at a festival, all the little children love me.” “The one at Riverbend doesn’t count.” “why not?” he asks “because you’re the second elf they’ve seen and unlike me, you’re….” she paused, taking in the smile on his lips before smiling herself. 

“A real elf.” She says He arched a brow, taking off his gloves carefully. “You’re a ‘real elf’, too.” he said. “Not like you. I didn’t even know I could do magic, and I can't do fancy undermount fireworks, I didn’t know any elvish curse words… I am not rich.” She lists making him laugh, the deep timber was rich and smooth. It rattled her bones and sent a chill down her body, the warmth settling in her core.

“Is that what makes one a ‘real elf’?” He asks “It’s your culture, and it's all just arcane rituals to me.” she explained, finally standing face to face with him. “It’s your culture too.” he assured. She gave him a sharp look but didn’t press the matter farther. “Will you show me your garden?” she asked 

With a grin he offers her his arm. “The pathway is beautiful, what is it?” “moonstone.” he replied “this is the evening rain lily, above us is glowing Wisteria, it lights up to attract prey.” he explained with a grin. 

The garden was beautiful, full of color and life, the path circling around a pond full of fae fish and all sorts of lovely creatures, the stop of the pond decorated with glowing water lilies and blossoms that had landed into the water. Trumpet shaped flowers hung from above, a blossoming orange tree stood tall off to the corner near the stone fence. 

“These are called Four O’clocks because-” “They bloom at four o’clock?” she guessed. He gives a nod before showing her another flower “nightshade.” he said “why would you want something that could kill you in your pretty garden?” she asked. He gave her a look like she wasn’t quite up to speed with what was infront of her, but with a smile he continued on. 

He went on, pointing out Lava Iris, a blossom with yellow, orange and black petals, 

Moonflowers, white little things that almost seemed to give off an ethereal glow. Black pansies and flowers in a rainbow of colors that had petals shaped like hearts. Pink and red carnations, and a strange plant. 

“I’ve never seen this one before.” “It’s called bleeding heart.” He informed. “Doesn’t much look like a heart.” she said. “A broken one, maybe.” he replied, leading her to the center of the garden. To flowers that looked like the night sky, all lit up with stars.

Picking one from the bush and offering it to her he smiled and said “And here is my favorite, NIghtblooms.” 

The Garden was his love letter to a woman he didn’t know would return, his ode to a mage that came and went and came back again. 

Odelia looked at the flower in a stunned silence, realization dawning on her as she stared at it, then back up at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked “why’d you plant Nightblooms? Why are they all nightblooming?” she asked. 

He smiled at her, raising his brows and tilting his head to the side. The woman flushed as he laughed. “That’s why Adrina said I should see it.” she said, pressing her hand to her warmed cheek.

“My father said that this wasn’t what he meant when he saw the nightblooms, but it is the pride of undermount.” he said with a proud grin.

“People come here to honor a hero that was lost for a while.” he added. 

Suddenly the woman bursts into tears, as if she couldn’t contain them in her any longer, surging forward in an instant and pressing her lips to his, her arms coming to rest on top of his shoulders, her fingers digging into his hair.

He lifted her up with ease and she wrapped her legs around his hips without hesitation. Without breaking the kiss he walked towards a stone bench and sat on it. 

“Rough landing.” she muttered into his lips. “Couldn’t see,” he said before capturing her mouth again. 

Her hands encased his face as they kissed. Both of them tried to one up each other with how much love and desperation you could put into a kiss. 

And though it was officially a tie, both of them were convinced that they were the winner. 

“Tyril.” she cried out with a kiss to his cheek. his name had never sounded sweeter. “Darling.” she said with a kiss the other cheek, “Dinvalir.” she said with a kiss to his jaw. “A’mael.” a his to his neck. 

“Kilvalir.” he rasped out, his grip on her hips tightening. She pauses, her head falling onto his shoulder. “What have I done to deserve you?” she wonders. “I wonder that myself, the most beautiful person that I've ever seen, and out of everyone you chose me?” He marvels “You’re perfect and I can't believe you love me.” he admits. She lifts her head to look at him, her cheeks flushed and a horribly fond look on her face. “There is no one else, Tyril.” she said, her fingers moving to free him of his clothes. “It’s a public garden.” “No qualms, right?” she asked with a grin. 

“You’re a bad influence.” he said, his own hands working the ties of her shirt.

He kissed the freshly exposed skin of her shoulder as she played with his hair.

“You’re beautiful.” he said, pressing a kiss to the center of her chest, his hands reaching to massage the other. He leaves open mouth kisses on her throat and across her breasts, leaving his marks as he did.

her hips rocked against him as he worked, pretty little cries came from the woman that nearly drove him mad with need.

“I need you.” he almost begged, lifting her from his lap to rid himself of his pants, she simply gathered her skirt up, a tent of sorts.

“Say it again.” he said “Dinvalir?” “That i’m the only one.” he clarified, “how could there be anyone else?” she asks as she sinks down onto him,

The couple share a gasp, a coil tightening in their stomachs. 

She is so lovely, painted in love bites, flushed, her full lips swollen and parted so that her song could escape from those lips like honey.

He moves his hips to meet hers, his hand sliding under her skirt to find a treasure. 

His eyes sought hers, when his hand met her core, her eyes half lidded and dazed with desire.

“Tyril!” she moans into the air, at once moving forward to silence herself with his lips. 

Her hands roamed his body as if they had no home, then settled against his chest like it was made for her, one hand gripped his bicep and the other stayed over his heart.

They’ve had many kisses, desperately urgent, heated kisses that they snuck whenever they had a moment alone, chaste kisses, as thank you or to soothe a wound, jealous kisses. You name it. 

But this was something else entirely. Desperate and frustrated but with all the care and tenderness of the chastest kiss.

a muttered chant fell against his lips, too out of sorts himself to register the three words she repeated like a prayer.

Her hips moved to meet his, they set a pace neither could keep up with for long, Her nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his arm and his hands leaving his fingers prints on her bum.

 “There's just you, There's no one else.” she swears breathlessly, trapping his response with her lips to his.

He loved her, fully, completely. it was all consuming, this feeling that overtook him when he saw her, flushed and glowing, breasts freeing themselves from her top, almost begging him.

He broke the kiss, and captured her breast in his mouth.

“you’re so gorgeous for me.“ he rasped out, his voice low and rumbling, horribly affected by their actions and the sound of it sent electricity down her spine, leaving her tightly wound and just aching for that last thing to get her to the top.

He moved her to lay on her back, her hair falling loose from its braided prison.

“I love you.” he swears, his lips pressed against her chest, his hips working to meet hers that were slightly lifted to meet him.

She arched into him as he kissed the skin above her heart.

“You’re so- beautiful.” she said, reaching to tangle her fingers in his hair. “The most beautiful.” she rectified upon seeing his arched brow.

“There could never be anyone else for me.” he said “when with every beat of my heart it spells out your name, when my love for you is etched into my bones-  very soul there could never-“ “Tyril!” she cried, trembling 

“Kivalir.” he replied, holding on to watch her come undone, taking every detail in before he fell.

The term of endearment seemed to set her off, she melted beneath him as he came undone above her.

When the denizens of Undermount asked Tyril what the missing hero was like, he couldn’t find the words, all his feelings got trapped behind the lump in his throat.

Still they asked, and so he planted a orange tree, so that they might smell her, he planted nightshade, as it too used it’s beauty as a weapon, carnations to tell of his devotion, and lilies to tell of her joyful soul, Bleeding hearts to declare his love, and Nightbloom to tell her name, and for every night she was away, he set a blossom to the water, a nightbloom adrift, and prayer repeated.

“My love for you is like this garden, it shall not wither in the winter, and neither shall my feelings.” he swore, and the other took it to heart.

Every word he said she believed, maybe foolishly but no one had ever done what He had seemed to do easily, a public love letter was on a whole other level than begging a lover to hold her hand in the sunlight.

When she thinks back to the mayor’s son, promising forever while looking for his boots, and with age or maybe distance she understood that she was asking him to be something he wasn’t, and that maybe they loved each other but what they had wasn't love.

and then she thinks to Tyril, much more at stake than an angry father, the way he loved her would harm his quest to restore his house, she’ll bring disgrace to his house, but still he fell into her.

Still he erected a garden full of hearts and I love yous for all of undermount to see, because he loved her.

She realized she had asked all her lovers to be Tyril, even before she met him, she wished them to stand a little taller, be a little more romantic. She’d ask them to walk in the way he did, smile in the soft way he did, all in the name of the feeling of missing someone she hadn’t met yet. 

and from the moment she saw him, there was something in the back of her mind that said “This is it.” 

at the sound of his voice, the glare he wore felt so familiar, like she’s known him from the beginning, that in all her lives she’s sought after him.

Kade always used to say that she’d follow blue eyes off a cliff. The color always pulled her in, leaving her hypnotized. The mayor’s son, the village girl, a traveling merchant, she could never say no to them, and if she was more romantic, or maybe just braver than she is now. she’d admit outloud that some part of her, the part of her soul that was his was searching for him in all of the faces she came across. Desperate to find him but only knowing the color of his stare.

They both made a promise unbeknownst to the other, to love each other till their hearts gave out. Tyril made a secondary promise that after the afterglow fades and their bones resolidify to plant a million flowers.

#blades of light and shadow #bolas 2 #playchoices #pb bolas #tyril starfury #bolas tyril #fic writing #my fic #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #blades fic #choices blades #bolas fic #choices fic writers creations