#but just a lil bit at the end

[flusteredfools]

How would the boys react to baby bumps with their respective y/ns?

(long post warning - lil suggestive at the end)

Our sweet little Flower Buds ❤

Our tiny little Stars ❤ Be kind to our Flower now little ones

Your Fae husbands always make sure each kiss shared on your lips gets matched with the life growing in your belly. They're even more attentive to you than before, always reaching out to rub or softly pet the growing bump without fully being aware. The increased affection and light touches always makes you chuckle, your silly Fae are already trying to spoil them rotten and they're not even born yet.

They both carry you around more often or help hold the weight while wrapping around you while you waddle to where you want to go when you're in no mood to be carried. Sun not only uses his magic to tune into what you're going through but checks in with the small life inside you just as often.

Putting your lips like that just makes it more tempting to kiss you Heart.

Eclipse is just as affectionate (even if it's not genetically his child growing inside you-yet- he still considers it his) but more stubborn than your husbands. Pouting around the three of them is not nearly as affective as their pouting is around you; often back firing into soft make outs and extended cuddle sessions.

No amount of being a grump over how he's treating you like you can't do anything on your own helps either, he dismisses the complaint with a wave of his hand; assuring you he knows you're quite capable, you've certainly proven it time and time again, but how you don't need to be exerting yourself with something as simple as walking when you're already working on bringing life to a new masterpiece, a priceless treasure.

Your Zora Mates, Sun and Moon, are extremely handsy, the two quickly become giggly bundles of scales and fins whenever they're close to you; stuck to your body in one way or another like they couldn't bare to be away.

Sun practically quits being a swim instructor with the number of times he's canceled his classes to just stay next to you; sending you into your own giggle fits as he nonstop nuzzles his crest into your stomach.

Moon isn't quite as extreme though he does make sure you always have whatever you want or need, helping hold the weight of the Zora eggs growing inside your belly, softly humming or singing to them whenever he can.

With your larger Zora mate, Eclipse, well it's a good thing you're not scared of heights. He lifts you up constantly, almost as if you're exercise equipment for him to use; curling and lifting your form up so he can press soft kisses into your swelling stomach before pretending to release you back down to repeat the cycle until you're struggling to breathe through the ticklish feeling of his affection.

He makes sure you're well taken care of, you've got to eat and rest properly for not only your health but the little mixed race child slowly growing inside.

Your true loves, your devoted guards, Sir Moon and Sir Sun cling closer to you while you're carrying their little miracle; after all they never thought it would be possible for you to carry their child, they simply didn't have the genetics.

And yet, as each new day passes your belly grows a little more, carrying a life that is just as mysterious as it is magical; an unknown mix of animatronic and human, so many uncertainties and questions with no answer, they just have to wait and see how their precious littlest star will be once they're born.

Sir Moon's protectiveness has grown further though so has his love, he cradles and kisses the small life inside you, talks just as much to it as he does you and Sun and makes sure to read the growing bump a new bedtime story each night.

Sir Sun while more clingy than before, doesn't regard everyone as a potential threat like Moon, though he's found his affections for you and your baby bump constantly threatening to make him overheat. Thoughts of filling up the entire annex of little stars born from the love he shares with you and Moon... the large family he's always wished he could have, well how could he not want to make that wish come true?

[sketchy-tour]

Thank you, Remderem!

[hinamie]

domain expansion

[seiwas]

you wear katsuki’s clothes to bed.

among all your cotton and silk pajamas, you prefer the thinning fabric of his faded tees. there are holes in some of them, just a few more seams away from their undoing as they fit far too large on you—but that’s why you love them.

they’re comfy and worn; lived in with love from the man that you love. when katsuki is gone for days or weeks at a time, you find his warmth intertwined within the threads of his t-shirts. when the fabric presses against your back, the bed doesn’t feel nearly as empty as it is.

(though it can never replace him. nothing can, you fear.)

“hoggin’ all my shirts,” he tuts, but you know it means nothing. the roll of white fabric is neatly folded unto itself, its crisp corners unfurling once handed over.

you giggle, shaking off its folds and fitting the hem right over your head. from the corner of your eye, you see katsuki’s gaze, watching you wrangle the fabric over you as the towel wrapped around your body slowly drops to the floor.

he turns away then, a little too quickly, a little too abruptly. if you look at him now, you’re sure you’ll find flushed cheeks and crimson eyes burning in shame for wanting you so inopportunely.

“guess you’ll just have to take me with it then.”

[keii]

late morning

[tragicvampireromanceisland]

anyone else remember this weird little show that toon disney used to air back in the nineties?? inside out focused on the lives of the emotions inside the mind of thirteen-year-old riley andersen, as they worked together to guide her through each day. while essentially just being a workplace comedy, the show quickly garnered praise from critics and fans alike for its unique premise, strong and relatable characters, and positive messaging on emotional regulation for its young audience.

at first, it looked like the show was going to become a staple saturday morning cartoon. season 2 even added four new emotions to the original cast of five! unfortunately, it seemed like disney had other plans. clocking in at 52 episodes, inside out only managed to reach around half of the golden standard of 100 episodes for rerun syndication before it abruptly got cancelled. the reason why has been the subject of speculation in hundreds of online forum threads over the past thirty or so years. but who knows! if we drum up some more conversation about it, maybe we can get a reboot!!

[libbys-braincell-loss]

I'M NORMAL I'M NORMAL I'M NORMAL I'M NOR

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A digital illustration of the cast of Mouthwashing in the style of a Christmas family photo. They are all posing, holding onto each other, and wearing ugly Christmas sweaters. Jimmy is the only one not holding onto anyone, hand shaking near Curly's waist. Jimmy and Swansea are the only ones not smiling, and Swansea is also holding up a large figure of Polle who is also wearing a sweater. Text on the image reads "Happy Holidays, from our family to yours!" in cursive. end ID]

~~~~

it's almost not christmas anymore but whatever. company mandated tulpar family photo

[dawn-moths]

thinking about tomura being tenko’s older brother where they’re perhaps ten years apart. you and tomura first meet when you’re both eighteen, start hanging out as friends, but you’re only vaguely aware he has a sibling when sometimes he says he can’t hang out that particular weekend because he has to “babysit the brat”.

after a while, you’re able to convince him to show you a picture of his little brother. you’re curious if they look alike, and other than a few features like their eye and hair color, you can easily imagine how tomura looked at that age, too. him and tenko look startling similar to each other even with that many years between them.

“sorry…” tomura grumbles through the other side of your phone call one afternoon. “tenko’s soccer practice got canceled and now my mom’s making me watch him while she’s at work.”

he sounds annoyed, almost embarrassed by the fact that, even at eighteen, he has to obey his mother’s requests, but is ultimately contrite about his last minute change of plans having to effect you so often as well.

“it’s ok,” you assure him with your usual chipper tone, fully understanding the responsibility he has. “but, y’know…” you remind him, “if it’s ok, i could always come over and we could hang out while you’re watching your brother?”

you try and hide your eagerness the best you can. the truth is, you’ve been wanting to meet the mini-tomura for quite some time now. tomura always describes him as annoying, as a needy little brat that whines until he gets his way, but the words are never spit with scorn and there’s something soft in his eyes that always gives away the fact that he actually does care.

tomura usually just brushes off your offer, promises to reschedule with you, so you’re prepared to be let down, but that time, after a short pause of contemplation, tomura clears his throat and says, “i mean, yeah, ok. that’s fine i guess, if you want…”

“ok!” you beam, already grabbing your keys. “i’ll be over soon then!” you hang up, grab your bag, and jump in your car.

any time you’ve been over to tomura’s house (which has been few and far between, since your place tends to be the designated hangout given you usually have the house to yourself most of the time) tenko hasn’t been there. he’s been at his aforementioned soccer practice or a friend’s house or some other activity that’s kept you from meeting him.

you’re so curious it’s overwhelming, and as you pull up to tomura’s house he’s already perched on the front step, gazing at his phone until he hears your car approaching. you park by the curb and scamper up to greet him, giving him a hug as per usual, and though he’d sounded sort of defeated on the phone earlier, seeing your smiling face now makes him feel a little lighter.

“hey,” you grin, momentarily holding both his hands in your own down between your close bodies. sometimes you're reminded how adverse to any kind of physical touch tomura used to be when the two of you had first met. even something as simple as a light, playful nudge would make him flinch, cause him to keep a bit more of a distance for the rest of the day.

but over time, you're not sure exactly why but, something changed.

and it was actually him who came to comfort you that time. you'd been upset, had planned on staying in your room alone until the ache decided to pass. but then you and tomura had started texting. he'd sensed something was wrong so he'd called. he'd heard the heartbreak in your voice, told you he was on his way, and not ten minutes later he was sitting beside you on your bed with his arm around you as you'd talked to him about what had happened while you'd cried.

ever since then, he'd gotten more comfortable with your casual, familiar touches, though he still found it easier to touch you than to be touched by you.

“hey,” he returns, then adds with that hint of that sarcastic humor you’ve come to love so much, “you ready to meet the little demon?”

you laugh, unable to not be amused by his melodrama. “oh, c’mon,” you say, lightly batting at his arm. “he’s only eight, he can’t be that bad!”

all tomura offers in response is a muttered, “yeah, well…” before inviting you inside.

as soon as you walk through the door, a little dog comes bounding towards you, running in energetic circles and barking as his tail wags with both curiosity and excitement. you proceed with caution around the corgi, wanting to reach down to pet him but hesitating around the unfamiliar animal.

the few times you'd been over before, tomura had let his dog out into the yard so he wouldn't end up jumping all over you, so this is the first time you're meeting him up close instead of catching glances of him through a window.

"ugh, sorry..." tomura mutters as he reaches down and scoops his dog up, the canine's tail continuing to wag even more once he's secure in tomura's arms. "i forgot to let him out back..." he then seems to realize something, his eyes widening a bit as he does a double take back at you and asks with a little more guilt in his tone, "you're not afraid of dogs, are you...?"

you wave off his concern with a swish of your hand and a crooked smile. you tell him you're not, you were just a little surprised is all.

"it's mon-chan, right?" you ask, slowly reaching your hand out for the dog to sniff.

"yeah. mon-chan," tomura confirms, readjusting his grip on the wriggling animal. "he's super friendly. just, well..." he gives a half shrug as a small grin cracks at one corner of his mouth. "he can be a lot."

"hey, mon-chan..." you coo, your tone turned sugary sweet, and the dog gives the back of your hand a few friendly licks. "awwww, you're cute, aren't you? what a good boy..."

but before you can dote over the dog too much, something catches your attention from the corner of your eye, causing you to shift your view towards the living room that sits off to the side of the main entrance.

and, lo and behold, there he is.

little tenko and his sweet little face that reminds you so much of the older brother you’ve become so fond of.

“hiiiii,” you greet the little boy with a soft voice and a smile. you know kids can often be wary when meeting new people, so when tenko just stares at you with those big, dark eyes you’re not surprised.

“hey,” tomura grumbles to his sibling. “don’t be rude. say hello.”

tenko then seems to snap out of his cautious trance, looking at his brother then back to you before saying, “is this the girl you’re always talking about, nii-san?”

tomura feels his cheeks heat and his ears burn as he sputters out something that sounds like half an excuse, half a scolding before telling tenko to go watch tv and behave. tenko obeys without any trouble and as you pass by through the living room you can see a popular superhero movie playing on the screen.

you travel down the short hall to where tomura’s bedroom lays at the very end, and once the door is shut he seems to become a little less tense.

“i’ll need to make him lunch in about an hour,” he tells you. “but until then…” he flashes you a suggestive smirk and you know exactly what’s coming.

it's one of your favorite things about hanging out together, the way it relieves the tension, lets you two unleash parts of yourself that you rarely let other people see. and tomura's been surprisingly good at it from the start. you wouldn't have guessed at a glance how skilled those hands could be, how coordinated given his usually lax, nonchalant nature...

he tosses you a game controller and you catch it with ease. “wha’dya say we pick up where we left off?” he asks, a hint of darkness to his voice that you now recognize as cold, hard competition.

you feel a look of confidence spreading across your face at the challenge and you reply in a tone befitting of a worthy opponent, “you’re on.”

the next hour passes quickly as you play your guys' favorite co-op game together, leaving you just two points from tying with tomura, and amidst your laughter and playful taunting, there’s a slight squeak as the door creaks on its hinges, little tenko peeking through the thin crack and observing, letting out a quiet gasp when he realizes he's been spotted.

“i’ll be out in a sec,” tomura tells his brother, already knowing what that expectant look means. tenko seems to linger, casting you another glance, and you convince tomura to pause the game.

“c’mon,” you murmur, giving him that guilt-tripping stare that he hates you for being so good at. “let’s go make him lunch and then we can finish this after.”

and it’s that suggestion of we, that suggestion of together, that has him pausing the game and setting his controller aside, standing from his bed to open the door to his little brother and following him down the hall to the kitchen, you close behind.

tomura takes out a tupperware from the fridge and has just popped it in the microwave when his phone buzzes from his pocket. "it's my mom," he states. "gimme one sec." he steps out of the kitchen and begins to wander towards the living room, his voice growing more distant as you hear him pick up the call. you hope everything is ok. but, for now, it's just you and tenko standing in the kitchen, the eight-year-old gazing up at you with that big, curious stare while the microwave counts down the seconds behind him.

"can i have lemonade?" he asks once you meet his eyes and give him a friendly grin.

the microwave beeps and you go to take his lunch out of it. "sure," you answer. but then, a little bit more suspiciously, you ask, "does tomura usually let you have lemonade?"

tenko nods, not giving anything away as you finish plating the other items of his lunch while tomura remains on the phone in the living room. from where you stand, if you glance just slightly around the entryway, you can see him sitting on the couch, leaning forward a bit while he continues to speak with his voice low. you just hope his mom won't be mad that he invited you over while she wasn't home.

it's not like you hadn't been over before when his house was empty, but given this is the first time you've met his little brother, you just hope you're not overstepping somehow. not to mention that, unbeknownst to you, tomura's mom had begun badgering him about meeting you before the end of summer. as soon as she'd caught onto the fact that her eldest son had been hanging out regularly with a girl, she couldn't help but become curious as to what kind of girl she might be.

a bit distracted by your thoughts, you just nod and say to tenko, "ok, sure, you can have some lemonade then."

once his chicken tenders and apple slices and animal crackers are promptly arranged on his plate and a glass of lemonade is poured, you carry tenko's lunch to the table and take a seat across from him while you wait for tomura to conclude his conversation, trying to keep your growing anxiety at bay at any possible problems that may be arising due to that phone call.

you try to listen in, though mostly hear the standard, vague, "yeah. uh-huh. alright," responses from tomura until—

"are you my brother's girlfriend?"

you blink at tenko, taken aback as you sputter over a response to that, wondering for a moment if you merely imagined it. then, once your nervous giggling and bashfulness begins to dissipate, you clear your throat and say, "did tomura tell you that?"

tenko takes another bite from one of his apple slices and says, "no. but he talks about you all the time. he says you're his friend, but i hear him talking to his friends at night when he thinks no one is listening."

you stare at tenko with an intensity you don't realize you're wearing on your face at first, the suspense eating you alive. eventually, when tenko doesn't seem like he's going to offer more, you lower your voice to something closer to a whisper, your gaze darting back to where you can barely see tomura sitting in the other room, still on the phone, and ask tenko, "what do you hear him say?"

tenko, his big eyes moving up and to the right, contemplates that for a moment as he finishes chewing and swallowing his next bite, then tells you, "i don't know exactly. i can't hear what his other friends are saying, but one time i heard nii-san say that you were special." you feel your cheeks heat and again glance over at the back of the boy you've become so fond of so quickly. "he said something about not wanting to ruin anything," tenko continues, reciting the words as if he doesn't quite grasp their meaning. but then, tenko's mouth splits into a mischievous little grin that reminds you so much of tomura, it's honestly a little scary. he says, seeming to find amusement in his next words, "one time, i heard him say you were like his guardian angel or something..."

a childish little giggle bubbles up from tenko's lips, almost as if he finds a cruel kind of pleasure in knowing his older brother's biggest secret, but this information just makes your heart all the more warmer towards tomura.

you'd spent the last couple of months suffering inside your own head about it all— about whether you really meant something to tomura, about if he cared for you as much as you did for him or if you were simply just convenient and would be discarded come any significant distance put between the two of you—

suddenly tenko seems to retract, perhaps sensing your discomfort, so you take the opportunity to clear the nerves and giddiness from your throat and change the subject.

"so, tenko," you begin, trying to straighten out your crooked smile. "tomura tells me you play soccer. do you like it?"

tenko gives a shrug at first, taking another bite of an apple slice that's had the skin peeled and cut to resemble rabbit ears. then he says, "i guess so. but i like watching movies more."

you ask him what kinds of movies he likes, recalling the superhero blockbuster that had been playing on the tv when you'd first arrived, and feel a spark of endearment as tenko's face lights up as he delves into telling you all about his favorite characters and their cool powers.

"wow! you sure know a lot!" you commend him with a beaming smile, and at the compliment tenko's face begins to turn a little red. "do you and tomura ever watch movies together?"

"not really..." the younger sibling sulks, pouting as he peels the remainder of the skin from his apple slice. "nii-san is usually playing video games in his room and my mom says i'm not allowed to play them because they're too violent..." then, before you can tell him that's too bad but one day he'll be old enough to play the same games as his brother, tenko perks back up and tells you, "but sometimes... sometimes nii-san lets me into his room on nights our mom works late and we play mario kart together."

you have to force yourself to stifle a laugh at that. i mean, it's just completely adorable, isn't it? the thought of tomura, who tries so hard to play it off like he couldn't care less about his little brother, like he's nothing more than a nuisance to him, a pest, an inconvenience, does actually take the time to bond with him anyway. at least, when no one's looking.

you tell tenko you also like mario kart, then lean in and add in a playful whisper, "but i bet he doesn't tell you about all the times i've beaten him, does he?"

tenko regards you with blatant skepticism. "no way," he says, as if he's never been more sure about anything in his life. "there's no way you can beat nii-san. he's too good! no one can beat him!"

now you laugh openly, causing tomura to glance over his shoulder just to make sure there isn't too much chaos ensuing in his brief absence, but tenko just looks confused.

"well," you reply, amusement trailing off the end of your words, "he is pretty good. i'll give him that. but unbeatable..." you quirk up one brow and wear a slight smirk for a moment before allowing your features to fall back to normal. then you tell tenko, "just give it time. one day i bet you'll be able to beat him. i believe in you!"

"you behavin' in here?" tomura suddenly appears in the entryway, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he casts his little brother a warning look.

"your girlfriend says she beat you in mario kart, is that true?" tenko blurts out, and you have to force yourself not to tease tomura when his cheeks visibly darken at the mention of you being his girlfriend.

"everything ok?" you ask to defuse the situation a little and put tomura back at ease, but then his look of bashfulness morphs into a look of slight surprise at the sight you and his little brother getting along so well.

quickly, he snaps out of it, and replies, "yeah. she was just checking in," before seeming to notice something awry about the picture here, specifically on tenko's side of the table.

"hey," tomura lightly scolds his brother. "you know mom only lets you have lemonade on the weekends." you immediately begin to apologize, saying that when he asked you thought it would be ok, and feel embarrassed that you let yourself be manipulated by a child, but tomura assures you it's fine before returning to interrogate his little brother who, admittedly, looks very guilty now.

"did you lie to her?" he presses, and for a moment you're afraid he'll make tenko cry. tenko denies it at first and you observe with growing anxiety as the argument between them ramps up a bit.

it isn't until you reach over to place a hand over tomura's, which has been firmly planted on the tabletop as he leans in over his brother, that he seems to simmer down a little.

"one time will be ok, won't it?" you ask him, not wanting to ruin the moment you'd just shared with tenko, feeling like you'd gained a little more of his trust. you use your secret weapon, the one thing tomura can never say no to whenever he sees it— that sweet, pleading stare you give as you gaze up at him, the look that makes his stomach flutter and his head haze over with thoughts he'll be revisiting later once he's alone.

"fine," he concedes, some of the rigidity that had captured his limbs leaving him as he steps away from the table. he looks directly at his brother and concludes with a warning, "but just this once."

you're relieved, and tenko appears to have returned to his prior state of unfazed contentment, but tomura still seems impatient about something.

"c'mon," he says, beckoning you up from the table to follow him back to his room. "we still have a game to finish."

you give tenko a parting smile before humming out an amused, lilting little note, trailing after tomura as you chirp out a mischievous remark of, "are you gonna actually help us win this time? or am I gonna have to carry the entire round again?"

he lets out an incredulous, albeit amused, chuckle, surprising you by throwing his arm around your shoulders and tugging you in closer to his side so you almost stumble down the hallway. "oh, just you wait..." brazen, he murmurs in your ear, his voice low and dark, now allowing the butterflies in your tummy to unfurl their delicate wings and take flight, "by the time we're done with this round, the other team isn't even gonna know what hit 'em..."

and, with that, you once again return to the confined space of his only slightly disheveled bedroom, the tv screen still bearing the scores from your last game. although, admittedly, as you continue to sit side by side, knees nudging one another here and there when things start to get a little too desperate or rowdy, you can't help but find yourself a little more distracted and self-conscious than usual.

because you swear you catch tomura glancing at you in between rounds from the corner of your eye, something softer, something warmer than you're quite used to possessing his crimson gaze.

it's a side to him you've rarely gotten to see, but you hope he'll learn to wear it a little more openly around you as time goes on.

besides, when his little brother had asked if you were his girlfriend, he hadn't quite said no, now had he?

[nocofamilyau]

man wtf is up with him?? (15/24)

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 169

this is it, the dynamic

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[surreal-duck]

live drama adaptations part 2 (prev)

cast reveal and girls movie night 🔥

[gomzdrawfr]

omg i was surprised no one mentioned hanahaki before so ur tags had me 👁️👁️ like hello. nikolai is the perfect target. the angst potential WAY too good. kill him (with love) hehe >:)

The first time Nik felt something in his throat, he brushed it off as a dry cough, he'd probably worked in the hangar for far too long, with all the dust and jet fuel he inhaled, it was only a matter of time, right? Plus, there was something else that mattered more at the moment, Price leaning against his heli, talking about something as the cigar was smouldering between his fingers.

Nik watched John, every small details and motion etched into his memory. It wasn't the first time Nik found himself utterly smitten and distracted by John, enraptured even.

But it was the first time it hurt, for some reason.

Again, his throat and chest felt tingly.

He found out soon, late at night, choking and gripping his chest as bright petals poured out his lips. Golden Marigolds. Soft but vibrant, covering his chest and pillows like autumn leaves.

Marigolds. Of all kinds of flowers, of course it's Price's favourite one.

Then comes the efforts to fix this...disease, some curse. Nik tried to stop loving John, build up those walls around his heart again, looked for another name to whisper in the night, gave hollow prayers and meaningless kisses to strangers he could never care for.

But the flowers kept returning, because in every attempt to build up this wall, John's laugh had already seeped through the cracks, John's name would always echo in his mind even when his name was being screamed out by another.

John Price had already carved a home into Nikolai's heart without ever asking.

It is impossible to stop loving John. Not when he remembered the day they shared their first cigar, not when he remembered his favourite tunes by heart, not when he could map out the wrinkles and moles around his face.

Nikolai knew, that even with all the subtle tease and signals, that Price would reciprocate.

Eventually.

Maybe.

...or not.

It wasn't Price's fault that he didn't love him, it was Nik's own fault for falling, and falling deeper than any sane person would.

It wasn't Price's fault, it was Nik's own fault for being hard to love, too many histories, too many burnt past, too many obscured files, too many [redacted] too many [redacted] too many [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] —

It wasn't Price's fault, it was Nik's own fault for being easy to leave, even though his heart screamed that no one could replace John.

More and more petals would escape the confine of his lungs, a garden of unsaid I love you lays untouched on the ceramic floors, wilting, dying.

Some of them would scatter around the helicopter. John found hem sometimes, but never questioned it, holding the petals delicately, even keeping some to his vest.

Oh, if only he knew.

Breathing became a battle, the flowers grew and grew, choking Nik from the inside. But the taste of the blooms were better than the lingering taste from John's cigar. This self-destruction of loving him, was so consuming yet so soft. A gentle kind of death. A mercy for wanting someone he could not.

"You o'roite? Nik?" Price asked, because with even one glance, anyone could see the paleness around Nik's skin.

"Fine, Captain." Nik lied, because...what else could he say? that he was dying? because of love? because the flowers in his chest of his own making were growing, nurtured by his greed? by every stolen glance and touch?

Nik's heart ached, tear apart from the inside. The flowers kept growing and so did his love. Perhaps if he could get enough Marigolds, he just might tell him how he feels, but for now...for now the flowers flow and wilt.

not proof read at all btw im just winging it from the get go and from what I had for priceraven originally HDAKDJ XD

[quirkle2]

glowing freckles cuz i think that's sick as hell

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 5.2

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 5th snippet, part 2. The fallout of Adar's prior revelation. Celebrimbor has a Gil-Galad moment (disappointment), a Feanor moment (rage), and a mental breakdown. Not neccessarily in that order. Somehow the negotiations turn out okay afterwards.

This is a bit of insanity but honestly, I imagine Celebrimbor would not take it well if he knew Galadriel had told Adar about Nenya's whereabouts, or that Elrond had brought the ring into the uruk camp with him. Plus I feel Brimby is entitled to a lil breakdown by now. He's had a wild few days. (There is some silverscars tenderness at the end too!) (Btw this is be the longest snippet yet, w t h where are these words coming from?!)

"Also. Galadriel tells me Lord Celebrimbor managed to create three rings of great power - great enough to extend the stay of the elves in Middle Earth. One of which was bestowed upon her, Nenya- she confided in me that she gave it away before attacking my camp. That she'd given it to an elf that would arrive with Lindon's army," the short pause, undoutedbly used for dramatic effect, was defeaning. "I assume this elf to be you, herald Elrond."

"And I also I believe that combining the power of these rings with the crown will allow me to permanently rid us all of Sauron. If you choose to hand them over to me."

It was as if somehow, all sound had deserted the inside of Adar's tent. At least, it felt that way to Celebrimbor. Adar's words rang in his ears, endlessly repeating.

As incredulous as he felt, the smith wasn't sure where to direct his attention towards first; the uruk who had more or less just insinuated that the elves should just hand over their precious rings to him, Galadriel who had given away such a strategic advantage, or Elrond who might actually-

The smith first settled his gaze on Galadriel, hoping that Adar had simply picked up rumors or scraps of conversation and constructed himself a full picture from it that might benefit his plans but would not hold up to reality.

Unfortunately for Celebrimbor's sanity, Galadriel looked caught, then stricken, and soon averted her face to the far side of the tent. It was clear that Adar had spoken the truth.

In the back of his mind, Celebrimbor understood what her intentions might have been. He too had expected Adar to be more cooperative, now that the uruk had secured himself the neccessary edge to demand a treaty. He'd been the one to suggest this path, after all.

Telling Adar about the rings themselves might have counted as a tactic to show that the elves had an edge as well, that he should not underestimate their prowess and that they could not just be roped into his own plans and considerations.

But telling him about where Nenya was, endangering Elrond's life in the process-

The smith attempted to diffuse the situation. "The existance of the rings are a well-known fact by now," though he himself hadn't even known until that moment who got to wear them, he couldn't help but think bitterly, "I am sure Elrond wouldn't risk bringing one of the rings into such close promixity to potential danger."

There was the sound of a sucked-in breath on the other side of the table, and Celebrimbor went very, very still.

With an almost pleading, incredulous expression, he let his gaze drift over towards Elrond. Not just hoping, but praying to the Valar that he'd taken the wrong clue from the other elf's noise.

Elrond outwardly appeared unmoved, but Celebrimbor knew his friend well. Judging by the way he had tensed up, the slightly widened eyes, Celebrimbor suddenly knew his fears had not been unfounded - he could see the faint glimmer of a fine, silver chain around Elrond's neck, almost imperceptible against the herald's collar, and the smith's heart sank and dropped into his stomach.

"Please tell me you didn't," the smith couldn't help but ask - one last, foolish attempt to be proven wrong. He didn't care that Adar could hear. He couldn't believe that two of his friends, whom he had considered among the wisest and most noble of his kind, had inadvertently managed to turn such promising negotations so volatile. And that they had heaped even more worries onto Celebrimbor's shoulders in the process.

"Of course not," Elrond replied as he tried to hold Celebrimbor's gaze. But his words convinced absolutely no one.

Least of all Adar, who hummed and appeared to be exceedingly smug has he leant back in his chair.

"Well, well," he drawled. "Looks like we are getting somewhere after all."

As Elrond regained his composure and began to threaten having his riders overrun Adar's camp if he so much as laid a finger on the herald or his friends, and Adar began to press for the elves to hand over the rings so Adar might use the full force of them and Morgoth's crown against Sauron, Celebrimbor found his mind just...detaching itself from the conversation.

He could tell Galadriel was trying to get a word in as well, but it was as if the others were speaking a language unknown to his ears.

His faith in the wisdom and foresight of elvenkind had been strained plenty already, not least of all by the history of his own house. He would hardly call himself a shining example of either virtue, either.

But the current situation really had him question whether this was all the Deceiver playing them for fools, or if they weren't all being fools on their own volition. He had certainly expected more - from the others (including Adar), but also from himself.

The smith realized that he'd slouched down on his own seat and curled up into himself over the table, mouth covered by a hand and eyes wide in horror as the full scale and danger of their current situation began to press down upon him.

Here they were, two armies at odds with one another, and in the middle of that, the smith Sauron had intended to use to further his own plans. As well as one of the elven rings of power. All well within his grasp. All of which could have been avoided, if they hadn't squabbled with one another, if they hadn't been led astray by their own overconfidence. 

Finally, Celebrimbor reached out and pulled over the wine chalice. Instead of pouring himself a glass, however, he felt his own hand wrap around the handle and clutch it, desperately trying to find something to hold onto. And, perhaps, throw across the tent. But that would remain a truth only he himself was to be privy to.

Through the fog of his own worries and a mounting sense of hysteria, the smith could hear a faint voice call out to him. As he wrenched himself back to the dispute at hand - albeit with difficulty - Celebrimbor could see Galadriel's worried face in front of himself, leaning over the table even as Adar's uruk guards tried to hold her back.

Maybe she'd asked his opinion, or maybe she'd inquired after his wellbeing. The smith cared not. He shook his head and closed his eyes as he held up his hand to ward her off. The tent suddenly felt entirely too suffocating.

Not caring about what a sight he would be to the others, Celebrimbor sprung up from his seat. The tent fell quiet as his chair toppled to the ground, and suddenly, the eyes of Adar, Elrond and Galadriel, as well as Vorohil and the uruk guards, were on him.

A manic giggle escaped the smith, who held up a finger and felt his face pull into a grimace of cordial elation that he didn't feel a drop of. "If, if you would excuse me for but a moment, please."

And with that, he spun around and marched out of the tent. He vaguely heard Adar ordering two of the uruk to follow him, but they didn't stop him from stepping outside.

The fresh air was both a relief and a shock to Celebrimbor. He stood outside for a moment, breathing erratically as he felt like he might not quite get in another gulp of air, mind spinning with everything that had happened to him those last few weeks. He felt as if he were drowning as he swam against a current, until suddenly, something snapped inside him.

He almost felt removed from his own body as he started shouting to the skies above. He had just enough propriety left to do so not in a language most of the others would understand, and so he began to curse loudly in khuzdul of all things.

Insult after insult fell out of his mouth - he cursed Sauron and his vile manipulations, he cursed the stubbornness of Galadriel and the carelessness of Elrond, he cursed his own pride and gullibility, he cursed Adar's lack of insight and Gil-Galad's abscence. And then he cursed everything else, from his own house up to and including the Valar and Eru himself.

When finally, the last of his vitriol and bad temper had bled out of him, Celebrimbor almost sank to the ground in exhaustion. It was both as if he'd rid himself of a great poison that had overtaken him, and as if he hadn't properly rested in several months. The latter of which, sadly, could have been true, come to think of it.

As he looked up again, the uruk in the camp had stopped whatever it was they were doing - one of them had raised a hammer above his head and halted in that pose, another had dropped a barrel she'd been carrying, and several had drawn their weapons and pointed it in the direction of the elf in their midst. Celebrimbor couldn't fault them for it - he must appear quite mad, all things considered, and he couldn't say for certain that he wasn't.

When he righted himself, a little flustered, the uruk scurried backwards and away from him. Seemed that in their perception, his outburst had not been that of a pathetic elf wailing about his own misery, though Celebrimbor couldn't guess what they might see him as instead.

"I apologize. These so-called 'leaders' are particularly bothersome today," Celebrimbor said to the uruk in general, then turned around and went back inside the tent - this time, with the determination to somehow put all of this right.

He hadn't come so far, given himself away in a marriage and helped drag nearly everyone to the negotiation table for things to fall apart around him now because of some trinkets he'd made and the foolishness of people who should have known better.

As he stepped back into the tent, he was greated by a variety of expressions, none of them positive - the uruk guards looked either downright frightened or aghast, Galadriel's eyes were opened wide and she was leaning away from the tent flap he'd come back in from, Elrond - who could speak khuzdul - seemed utterly scandalized, and Adar himself had gripped the handle of his sword even as he remained rooted to his throne.

Celebrimbor exhaled a breath, paused a moment, then drew another one in, before he continued where he'd left off outside the tent.

"How is it, when compared to you," he pointed at Galadriel, "the commander of the Northern armies collaborating with our greatest and most dangerous foe, getting yourself captured by our enemy and revealing the whereabouts of Nenya," she flinched, but Celebrimbor had already turned to Elrond,

"you, the herald of High King Gil-Galad himself, who has not only kept that ring but brought it with him into a battle and into the very heart of an enemy camp instead of leaving it with someone else," he turned towards Adar finally,

"and you, who claims he will vanquish Sauron and wants to create a lasting peace, for the wellbeing of his children, but who seems determined to sabotage every attempt at collaboration with frankly ludicruous demands and needlessly cruel ideas,"

he pointed to himself, "that I, who let Sauron himself walk into my city and practically handed him the keys, who was willing to believe his lies because he played into my inflated sense of ego and my pathetic need to outshine my grandfather, might actually run the risk of counting as the most responsible one between all of us, when it should be the opposite?!"

Well, even he hadn't expected that he still had enough fire left in him to start yelling again. He'd be impressed with himself, if this didn't remind the smith of his own grandfather far too much. But perhaps if no one was willing to listen to reason and actually work towards a solution for all of them, screaming people into submission was the only option left.

Judging by the chastized expressions on everyone else's faces, and the way nobody dared to talk back at him, Celebrimbor might have been onto something in this instance. He'd try not to make a habit of it though - suddenly he wished back for Gil-Galad's disappointment and understood the way the high king looked so utterly, completely tired all the time.

With a deep, resounding sigh, his shoulders deflated, and Celebrimbor slowly walked over to Adar's side. The uruk leant the slightest bit away from him for a moment before he regained himself, but even his guards seemed too unsettled to stop the screaming mad elf from getting closer to their leader.

To everyone's surprise, Celebrimbor dropped down on his knees next to Adar instead, and grasped his arm as he looked up at the other. The uruk's face was unreadable, and he still hadn't relinquished his grasp on his sword.

This time, the smith's voice was much softer. "Husband," he started, and Adar's eyes widened. "If you are to join forces with Lindon, their army and yours would be the same. It would be a shared endeavour. Both armies would walk up to Eregion's walls and demand its surrender - and you would march into the open gates side by side with the High King himself."

"It would make no more sense for Elrond to relinquish the ring as it would be for you to hand over Morgoth's crown. If we indeed need both to fight and defeat Sauron, we will do so - together, as a united force. And for that, we need trust."

His gaze turned imploring. "I have made no attempt to desert you since we took each other as spouses. Me and Galadriel walked alongside you to greet Elrond and the other elves, and we did not run or betray you. You have to put trust into the sincerity of our joined efforts for this alliance to come to fruition. Same as they do towards you."

"A lasting peace cannot grow on demands and suspicions. It can only grow on trust."

As the smith finished his appeal to Adar's reason, the uruk's face held a stunned look. His whole attention was focused on Celebrimbor, as if he'd seen the elf for the first time - and well, Celebrimbor supposed in a sense, the other had. He usually tried to keep his own temper in check, too aware of his own heritage and its destructive power.

Slowly, but surely, Celebrimbor could see the uruk's mind begin to work again behind his eyes, as his eyebrows knit and his lips pursed.

The smith held his breath as the uruk detached his gauntleted hand from the handle of his sword, and instead rested it on Celebrimbor's arm. But he didn't try to pry the smith's hand away.

"Please, get up, Celebrimbor," Adar said, unexpectedly gentle. It was the smith's turn to be too stunned to speak as the uruk got up, urged the smith to stand, bent to right his chair, and then carefully pushed Celebrimbor into it, before he poured him some water - not wine - and pressed the glass into his hand. "Rest."

The smith blinked, and then watched as Adar rounded behind him and faced Galadriel and Elrond, who had watched the scene before them with in silence.

The uruk seemed to fight with himself for a brief moment, and then rose to his full height. "Herald Elrond. Please, tell your king that I am interested in joining our forces. Tell him of what we discussed in this tent. Tell him..." he briefly faltered. "Tell him that I have Morgoth's crown, and that I would walk to the gates of Eregion with him and the elven rings. So we can finally be done with the evil that occupies it."

"And so that we may, luck permitting, use our shared victory to build a prosperous cooperation between our people, and my marriage to the Lord of- to Celebrimbor, to help usher in a lasting peace."

With a sigh of relief, Celebrimbor watched as Elrond hesitated, briefly, and then nodded in agreement. "I will return to my king at once and tell him of your proposal. I will advocate on your behalf...and on your husband's."

Celebrimbor was hit with such a rush of hope that his hands began to shake, even as he tried to take a calming drink of water. If one of the others noticed, they thankfully didn't bring any attention to it.