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chunksworld · 11 months ago

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Double Fantasy

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: Apologies for the long hiatus, ya boi was busy with life. Also, thank you @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading. ————————

“My room. I’m giving you 15 minutes or we’re never doing this again.”

Kim Minji be damned.

You hate how every ounce of self-respect you have flies out of the window when it comes to her, as if you’re nothing but an outlet for her carnal desires (as she was to you). And perhaps you are—maybe it was just part of your delusion to think that she perceives you differently than the hundreds of men that shamelessly ogle her. That she views you more than just that guy that fucks her so good she struggles to keep that mouth of hers shut. But who are you to complain? Every encounter with her leaves you starstruck, wanting for more, tongue tied—as if she commands an unquantifiable amount of gravity that leaves you speechless literally and figuratively. As much as your brain is telling you that she’s dangerous, that everything that’s happening between the two of you can jeopardize everything you’ve worked so hard for, it’s the thrill that keeps you coming back time and time again.

I mean who would’ve thought that the two top students on campus would be engaging in such unholy acts? Not when everyone (your professors included) think of you two as the embodiment of the values that this very institution was established upon. The beacons of hope that would serve as inspirations for the rest of your peers, that through hard work they can attain the level of success that you two have. That couldn’t be any more farther than the truth however. Certainly your after school hookups with her inside empty classrooms, behind the bleachers, and inside the gym showers would beg to differ. But it’s not like you have any morals, that disappeared eons ago when you found yourself down this treacherous path of self-destruction in an attempt to alleviate the stress that comes with such expectations and responsibilities.

On the surface their perception of you two is true; students that constantly receive top marks in every subject and find themselves involved in as many activities and clubs as possible. Racking up awards was just second nature, as you would always receive the highest recognition much like she did over the years. It was only natural for a rivalry to spark between you and her; a byproduct of your competitiveness and your desire to come out on top. It was friendly at first, you would congratulate each other and encourage the other to do better next time. But it soon became ugly, the once wholesome banter turning into horrifying insults that you wouldn’t even think to come out of your mouth—needless to say you both became jealous of each other, of how successful the other one became.

You could say it was a petty affair, one that was exacerbated by the fact that everyone was pressuring you two to continuously be the best—a mental strain that proved to be too much. It was something that only happened behind closed doors though, everyone still thought you had an amicable relationship with her when everything was actually already falling apart. Yelling and screaming and arguing, truly an ugly sight. You would often talk about how you couldn’t stand how condescending she was towards you every time you made a mistake and she in turn would talk about how much she hates your ego. But it also involved even the smallest of things including how you thought her boyfriend was a dick because she would rarely see him (she claimed he was busy all the time but you knew better).

And with two extremely combustible elements in constant interaction with one another, an explosion was bound to occur. After months and months of arguing, it finally happened. It was midterms week and you two were extremely stressed (it didn’t help that you were only getting on average two to three hours of sleep and consuming an unhealthy amount of energy drinks). Oh, and that dick of a boyfriend she had broke up with her. She was inconsolable to say the least— but when you brought up how much you didn’t like him and blamed her for dating him in the first place like the asshole you were, that's when things took a turn. You know you fucked up, that it was a line crossed and that such words should have never been uttered. But instead of receiving a resounding slap on the face, you found yourself kissing her.

Or rather, Minji kissing you. And any sane person would react by trying to pull away in shock but you couldn’t find yourself doing it. Perhaps this was something that was bound to happen. All of those arguing and bickering, maybe it was just a ruse. The urgency, the passion, the look of desperation in her eyes; they told the story. Maybe it was the caffeine, maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was something more. Whatever it is, she needed you as much as you needed her. She was coming off a terrible breakup and you, well—you would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t find her attractive because who didn’t? There’s a reason why she’s rejected at least half of the male students, and you definitely don’t miss the way some of them would glare at you because of how suspiciously close you were to her.

In that aspect, a part of you considers this a small victory; especially when she grabs you by the collar and pulls you in deeper, as if the thought of letting you go would be the end of her. It was intense and as much as your senses were firing from all cylinders, your brain was telling you that this wasn’t right. You were supposed to hate her, she was your mortal enemy. What would everyone think? That the two top students were hooking up with—close the fucking door before I change my mind. Right. Every rationale you may have had was gone in an instant. The prospect of a classmate, a member of the maintenance crew, or worse—a staff potentially catching the two of you never crossed your mind. Not when you had her bent over the desk at one point screaming you’re fucking me so good and don’t stop while you rearrange her guts. Or when you had her pinned against the wall and pumped her so full of cum that she finally gave you her number after because she wanted you two to do it all over again.

Did the room reek of sex? Sure. That’s why she’s made it a habit to bring a bottle of air freshener to mask the scent during your subsequent “study sessions.” And were people starting to notice how you two would frequently stay up late despite not always having a busy workload? Definitely. But you could care less. In fact, nothing else matters. You were addicted to her in more ways than one, not romantically however. That was something she made abundantly clear the day after—clearly she was one to establish boundaries which you respected. Yet here you are, frantically putting on some nice clothes and making yourself smell nice with that twenty dollar bottle of perfume that she hates. Fuck it, why even bother? Your clothes will be thrown to God knows where the moment you enter her place anyways. At least put on a face mask, especially since you’ll be sneaking your way to her dorm once again and you don’t want another close encounter with the security guard.

Fortunately there wasn’t any problem, your disguise actually worked this time around but you still have to be cautious. It’s a quick elevator ride yet it takes forever, maybe it’s because you two haven’t had sex in the past two weeks and you’re just dying to get a taste of her again, to feel her irresistible body against yours. Look around before knocking on the door three times and fortunately you didn’t have to wait any longer. Minji hastily pulls you inside and grabs you by your hoodie for a kiss—immediately you get a taste of her favorite cinnamon lip balm. Her strength (which still surprises you to this day) forces you to move backwards and you find your back pressed against her door. Hands roam each other’s bodies and you groan as you feel her fingers cup your bulge. Fuck, why are you so hard already?

You’re not one to just let her do what she wants so you avoid her chasing lips to plant yours on her neck, biting and nipping on her smooth skin while your own fingers creep underneath her shirt. “D-Don’t fucking mark me. I—shit—I’ve got a presentation tomorrow.” Minji finally speaks and you would’ve gladly granted her wish but with the way she’s leaning her head back, it didn’t seem like her words were matching her actions. Much more so when you grab on the hem of that same shirt and pull it up and she willfully raises her arms so you can remove it. And before you even get the opportunity to appreciate her body, your sweatpants are already being pulled down. Help her out by kicking that obstructive garment away; in fact you end up removing your hoodie as well which only leaves you with your boxers on and it barely conceals your raging desire for her.

“This is your fault. Your fault for making me wait so damn long.” You don’t miss the way she bites her lips at the sight of your bulge, even as you make your way further down with your mouth and proceed to mark her collarbones and her cleavage. Her deft fingers continue to distract you however, pulling your boxers down and wrapping her cold digits around your throbbing and pulsating cock. The effect on you is immediate as you can do nothing but lean your head back and groan shamelessly. Minji smirks, especially because this is one of the only few times she has the upper hand on you; when you’re just putty in her arms and rendered breathless by her actions. It gets even worse when she slowly begins to pump you, drawing more precum out of your tip with how badly you just want to ravage her.

“You poor thing.” You can feel her hot breath against your ear, sending more shivers down your spine as she’s decided that it’s now her turn to leave marks on you. It’s apparent that Kim Minji is just as possessive as you, even though neither one of you wants to reveal your dirty little secret to everyone. “Guess you couldn’t last that long without me, huh? Were those pictures I sent not enough?” Of course they weren’t, no amount of thirst pics of her in her underwear can satiate your endless lust towards her. Nothing can replace her hands, the way she can just work you to submission and make you so impatient. “I can’t blame you.” Her teeth sink into your jugular like a vampire. “I’ve been thinking about how much I want you to rail me into the bed, to make me moan so fucking load, to make me choke on your cock. Will you do all of that for me?”

You’re ashamed by how much that turned you on, as if a switch has been flipped inside you. You don’t miss a beat and lift her up by her waist which makes her squeal; her legs wrap around you while you carry her towards her bed. No more foreplay, you almost throw her onto the bed before yanking her shorts and her panties in the process. They’re discarded along with the rest of your clothing somewhere in the room. Her bra follows suit as well—you can’t believe she’s had it on for this long. “Fuck, you don’t know how much I want to put a load in you. Until you’re filled with so much cum that all you can think about is my cock.” You spread her long legs open and it’s clear that everything she said is true; her clit is puffed and her inner thighs are already drenched with her juices.

Kneel in front of her and carefully position your length inside her. “Gonna fuck you now.” Through gritted teeth, Minji nods; her fingers gripping your biceps while her legs are already pulling you in. You sink into her further and further, drinking her moans and whispered curses until you bottom out inside her. She still feels so good, so tight, so warm. You have to silence her mouth with a kiss because her moans are increasing in volume as you gradually increase her pace. “So, so fucking good. You’re gonna drain me dry.” Feel her nails digging into your shoulders and back, you’re definitely going to feel the sting of the scratches she’s leaving tomorrow morning but that’s not your concern for now. A bite of your bottom lip further confirms that she’s in an equal state of euphoria and you respond by continuing to fuck her with the same pace and intensity.

You’re careful not to make the bed creak but that’s fortunately an art that you’ve already mastered given the circumstances. But even with her luscious thighs wrapped around you, it’s not enough to have her drunk on your cock, you want her to beg for it like her life depends on it. You pause for a brief moment much to her verbal disappointment before pressing her legs against her chest to effectively fuck her in mating press. You know it’s her favorite position because an uncharacteristically loud moan escapes her mouth the moment you resume your fucking, your fingers gripping the bedsheet for support. “F-Fuck! Please, keep fucking me. So—damn—big!” You’re going to have to kiss her again because she’s slowly losing her grip on her surroundings, only focused on how much you’re pounding her into the bed.

“This is what you wanted, right? I bet not even your toys can fuck you this deep.” Minji doesn’t answer but her body responds for her; a particularly deep thrust has her clinging on to you for dear life. Her breasts pressing up against you and followed by the rest of her body. Bury your face on the crook of her neck, inhaling her addicting scent as you can feel her tightening ever so slightly around your cock. It’s becoming more of an effort to thrust inside her now, especially when you’re fucking her balls deep with every motion of your hips. Only broken sentences and curses are leaving her mouth at this very moment, along with shameless moans of your name as if she’s not afraid to reveal to everyone just how much the model student is getting dicked down by her fellow model student.

Maybe she isn’t. Maybe that’s part of the thrill after all, the aspect of getting caught. But that’s not your worry at this moment; not when that said model student is beginning to tighten even more and her breathing is becoming more hurried. You pull away to look at her facial expression and it’s painted with nothing but lust. The way her face is misted with sweat, her eyes closed, and her mouth open. It’s clear that her orgasm is just right around the corner. “C-Coming! I’m so fucking close, don’t you dare fucking stop.” You don’t care that your abs are burning, that’s what those 7 AM workouts in the gym are for. It’s for moments like these, when her nails are damn near close to breaking your skin and tears are starting to well on her eyes. It then becomes your goal to break her, like you always do during these sessions.

And it’s during another particularly deep thrust that her orgasm hits her like lightning, her pussy becoming unimaginably tight as if she wants you to join her in her euphoria as well. She’s almost crying, her body twitching uncontrollably as you pin her down to the bed. Tears eventually do fall due to the overwhelming pleasure, that makeup that you’re only noticing now is completely destroyed. Her juices begin to soak your length and the sheets underneath. She’s biting her lips so hard that it’s starting to bleed, get rid of the blood by giving her open-mouthed kisses. But you’re so focused on helping her come down from her high that you don’t realize that you’re about to explode as well, Perhaps you might, because you’re starting to throb madly as you continue to fuck her through her powerful orgasm.

You spread her legs as far as you can, pistoning into her with no abandon. More of her juices stream out and you’re almost apologetic because of the mess that she’s going to have to clean up. But it’s really hard to focus on anything else when her pussy is still pulsating, continuing to urge you to join her in her orgasm. “Need your cum inside me, don’t you dare pull out.” It’s not like you had any intentions to in the first place, not when her suffocating warmth is begging to drain your balls for everything it has. The tension is building, rising, culminating—one animalistic growl after you bottom out and you’re pumping ropes and ropes of semen deep inside her. It floods her walls, it overflows, and you just can’t stop pushing it as deep inside her as possible. To make sure that her womb is completely filled with your cum and nothing else. It’s downright euphoric, the way her name leaves your lips like it’s a mantra. The way all of it triggers a smaller, second orgasm from her—truly wringing you dry.

It takes minutes for your movement to come to a halt, and by then your orgasm has completely subsided and so has hers. You feel her arms pull you in for a kiss, a much slower and passionate one compared to earlier. As if she’s saying thanks, because her voice is probably already gone. Or perhaps she’s just preserving her energy because if there’s anything you know about Minji, it’s that one round is not enough for her. If that’s the case then you better get a quick rest. Pull out of her and watch your excess semen drip out of her and down to her thighs. It’s truly a sight that you’ll never get tired of time and time again. Even more so when she takes a finger and takes a sample of your combined juices. It doesn’t take too long for your cock to become fully erect once again despite your orgasm just mere minutes ago.

There’s no time to contemplate though as Minji saves you the trouble because the next thing you know her perfectly shaped ass is raised and facing you, her arms bracing herself on the bed as she clearly shows you what she wants. “Need you to cum in me again, can you do that for me?” There’s no more time to waste, take a glance at the bedside clock and it’s already way past midnight—any noise at this hour would further alert people. You quickly kneel behind her, positioning your cock once again inside her pussy but this time in a much swifter manner. But despite all of the lubrication she’s so much tighter in this position. Grab on her ass for support and leverage as you begin to thrust, it’s a sight to behold that is her curves and back covered with sweat and her hair becoming a disheveled mess.

She’s much more silent this time, thanks to the fact that her moans are being muffled by the pillows. This slow tempo also gives you time to recover, though it’s clear that she wants you to be rough with her once again with the way she’s moving her hips in a back and forth motion. Fine, if that’s what she wants then that’s what she gets. Just thirty seconds is all you need to recover, especially when you’ve got that heavenly view in front of you. You grab her by the arms and pull her upright until her back is pressed against your chest, your hands palming her breasts as you suddenly increase your pace. It’s your favorite position because not only is her body pressed against yours but you can view everything about her up close—her ruined mascara, her swollen lip, the dried tears on her face.

Your fingers slowly creep up to her neck as you fuck her with all of your remaining strength, quieting her with more kisses—also because you just love kissing the hell out of her due to how irresistible and soft her lips are. She might’ve had another orgasm already but you’re too far gone, too caught up in chasing your own that you don’t notice. Either way, it only takes ten minutes this time for you to unload whatever remaining load you had (which is surprisingly a lot considering that when you pull out, a copious amount of semen is dripping out of her now swollen pussy once again). Now you’re truly spent, crashing on her twin sized bed that can barely fit the two of you so you always end up cuddling post sex. And as crazy as it sounds, this is the part of this whole ordeal that you’re oh-so-afraid of. Will she hear how quickly your heart beats when her head is resting on it? Will she find out that you’re slowly starting to wish that there was more between you two? Despite the fact that it’s an incredibly terrible idea that could have major implications in your future?

“Take me out to dinner first.” Minji is the first one to break the silence and the words that come out of her mouth completely terrifies you—it almost makes you jump out of the bed.

“What?”

“I’m not stupid.” Minji looks up to you, then places a gentle kiss on the hickey she left on your neck. “We’ve been hooking up for five months and you’re telling me there’s no way you haven’t fallen in love with me yet?”

Maybe you have.

Then you remember how angry you felt when her boyfriend broke up with her and you couldn’t do anything about it; you just wanted to barge inside her room and hold her in your arms and apologize for being such a dick and you couldn’t. You wanted to tell her that she deserves better because she truly does, but whether it was you that deserved to take that place in her heart you didn’t know. You were mortified at the thought of your relationship only remaining at such a stage—even though she made it crystal clear that she didn’t want anything to develop between you two. But it’s all in the past now—which begs the question: have you truly fallen in love with her? It only takes one look at those eyes and the way her lips curl upwards and how she fits so perfectly in your arms and how you wish you could be with her forever and how it all completely fucks up your equilibrium.

Yeah.

Of course you have.

#newjeans smut #minji smut #kim minji smut #male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #smut

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elronds-meleth-nin · 2 months ago

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Lemon Cakes

I just...I had an idea and I was emotional about S2E7 (beware spoilers!!) so I wrote a thing. We're not taking S2E8 into account, and we're assuming Brimby managed to escape from Eregion. Anyway, enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Celebrimbor (RoP) x Half-Elven Healer!Reader

[A/N: This contains mild references/innuendo so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, yearning, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, minor descriptions of the same, spoilers for RoP S2E7, crying, kissing, both think their feelings are unrequited but they're very requited, nudity, mild references to male anatomy.

~*~

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts and fears that I didn't bother noting where I was going. All of Eregion was safe, so it didn't truly matter which pathway I took. However, it still would have been wise to do so.

Wisdom wasn't exactly the foremost concern in my mind at that moment. Court whispers, idle gossip, occupational politics...those had unfortunately taken center stage as I hurried through - was I in Eregion's gardens? Grudgingly, I supposed that the hedges were a dead giveaway that I'd somehow wandered into them without realizing. I'd been drawn to them countless times over the decades that I'd lived in the city. Ending up there should not have been a surprise.

My mind dwelled - foolishly, perhaps - upon my worries. How was I supposed to ignore what they were saying? It wasn't as if the other healers were trying particularly hard to hide the fact that they despised me for my heritage. After all, in their eyes a Peredhel - one of Half-elven descent - could never do as well as someone who possessed only Elven blood. I'd trained under several of the best healers known to Elvendom, but still that was not enough for the wagging tongues attached to judgmental minds.

All I wanted was to help heal the injured, but because of my status, I was relegated to organizing supplies and sweeping the floors of the infirmary. Had I been given the chance to prove my worth and demonstrate my training, I might have been able to advance further. As it stood, however, I only had a few of the common families of Eregion who trusted me enough to tend to their wounds and ailments.

Despite my situation, I made an effort never to complain. I took what opportunities were offered and made do. After all, if I had complained, not only would I have been seen as ungrateful, but I would've been proven to be, in the eyes of those who disliked me, even weaker than I was already perceived to be. I was allowed to remain in Elven territory. Should that not be enough for one lowly Peredhel?

That didn't stop me from feeling frustrated, though. Overhearing the last of the other healers' insidious comments after a long day was what broke my resolve. As I wandered through the maze of shrubbery, hot tears rolling down my cheeks, I hated that I'd let them bother me this much. Was I truly so weak-minded that I could not handle a few insults? Surely, I must be.

"Are you alright?" A warm but tentative voice called, and I tried to quickly wipe away my tears. Whoever had been kind enough to check on me didn't need to be bothered by a weepy Elleth.

"Yes, of course," I called as I posted on a faux smile and turned to find– "Lord Celebrimbor! Forgive me, hir-nin."

I began to drop into a low, deferential curtsy, but a gentle hand grasped my shoulder, stopping me.

"Please, my lady, there is nothing you have done which requires an apology." Having only seen him from a distance, I'd never spoken to Lord Celebrimbor before. I hadn't expected his voice to be so kind. I looked up, and he smiled at me.

I had never been looked at with such radiant warmth in all my life. Words utterly failed me. I should have said something - anything - but I could not seem to speak.

The light of the setting sun created a golden aura around Lord Celebrimbor's head, making him look like a heavenly being sent by the Valar. For a moment, I forgot all about my frustration and grief.

Those closest to him must scramble for even a few moments with him. How could they not? The greatest of the Elven smiths was also the most attractive Elf I'd ever met.

"There we are," he murmured as my eyes met his. "Would you perhaps like to join me?"

For the first time, I noticed he was holding a plate of lemon cakes. He'd likely come out to the gardens to relax with a sweet treat, only to find a distraught mess instead.

"O-Oh, thank you, my lord, but, truly, I do not wish to intrude," I stammered, but he let out a gentle laugh that made my heart twist in my chest.

"I will not force you, of course, but you should know that I would welcome your company," he said, glancing between myself and the lemon cakes. "Over the years, I have found that something sweet can help lift the spirit. Besides, I don't think I should eat all of these myself. My tailor would be quite cross if he had to replace my entire wardrobe."

I doubted a figure like his could ever be diminished by the insignificance of a few lemon cakes, but the need for friendly companionship was so great within me that I allowed myself to take his not-so-believable excuse at face value.

"Only if you're certain, my lord." His smile widened, and he eagerly led me to a bench nestled between a pair of pink flowering dogwood trees. Once we were seated, I finally took a moment to observe my companion. Wearing deep blue velvet robes, delicately embroidered with beaded leaves and vines, Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion sat beside me with all the gravitas and dignity of a king. His gaze was as soft as his touch had been upon my shoulder.

But he was a lord, and one of the most skilled Elven smiths in history. I was only a Peredhel. No matter how handsome I found him, common people like me did not end up with nobility.

Distracting me from my sobering thoughts, Lord Celebrimbor offered me one of the little iced cakes. I couldn't help but smile at the slices of candied lemon decorating the top.

"I must admit," he murmured as I gratefully took one, "that sweets are somewhat of a weakness of mine. The bakers whose establishments I frequent across the city have become rather aware of the fact that this variety in particular are my favorite. I fear they quite effectively know how to convince me to part with my coin."

That fit him quite well, in my opinion. The brightness of the citrus, the sweetness that tempered the flavor...nothing could have suited his personality more fully. Those cakes were light and sunny, as was he.

After we'd eaten in peace for a time, conversing quietly between ourselves about everything and nothing, Lord Celebrimbor looked at me curiously.

"If you don't wish to discuss it, I promise you are under no obligation to do so, but is there someone to whom I should speak in your defense?" I looked at him in askance, and he gave a small smile. "'Tis heinous behavior to bring such a lovely lady to tears. If there is someone who requires a stern speaking to, please consider my services in that department most humbly offered."

His gaze was so earnest and concerned that I had to avert my own lest I tear up again. None had ever offered to come to my defense before, opting instead to suggest that I grin and bear it, or that I develop a thicker skin as comments like that were to be expected for one of such low, unworthy birth.

"You are very kind, my lord, but, truly, you needn't trouble yourself." I barely dared to look back over at him after a moment's pause. "After all these years, I should have developed a thicker skin."

Celebrimbor wiped his fingers on his handkerchief and leaned a little closer to me, clearly engrossed.

"About what, my lady?"

I hesitated. It was perhaps vain, but I did not relish seeing the kindness in his eyes melt away when he realized with what sort of person he'd been conversing. But there was nothing for it. One did not simply ignore the Lord of Eregion when he asked you a question, especially not when he'd been kind enough to offer you food, comfort, and company. As much as I wanted to run, I remained seated.

"I am Half-elven, my lord," I nearly whispered, dropping my eyes to my lap where I was wringing my hands nervously. "My heritage is...somewhat of a common topic of discussion, especially with regards to my abilities."

"Abilities?" He asked gently, and I nodded my head.

"I am a healer, my lord. I was trained by some of the most skilled Elves I have had the fortune to know," I elaborated. "Truly, I do not mind helping where I can, and if it were a simple matter of my skills not being necessary, I would not be quite so frustrated, but..."

I trailed off, unsure of how to express the rest of my thoughts without sounding pathetic and childish.

"...But you've been overlooked because of who your parents were," he finished sounding somber. "My lady, I am truly sorry that you have had to endure such unjust treatment. None should behave so dishonorably, especially not here in Eregion. After all, in Lindon, our High King's herald is Half-elven. Ability has nothing to do with blood, as my people should be aware. I daresay you've likely heard some unworthy remarks, as well, for which I can only apologize. My people should know better."

I expected pity or disdain when I finally dared to look up at him again, but instead, I found only a reassuring smile and warm eyes skimming my face.

"Thank you, hir-nin, for your kindness. There was no need for you even to speak with me, much less be in my company, but I am so very grateful that you did."

Celebrimbor's smile widened, and he caught one of my hands between both of his. I couldn't help but marvel at how large they were, and how strong the calloused pads of his fingers felt. He must work quite diligently at his craft.

"It has been my honor, I assure you."

He paused, looking unsure as if considering whether he should say what was on his mind.

"Do you know, my lady, I have seen you walking in the gardens before. I should have wished you a good day or stopped to say at least 'good morning,' but I...well, I did not wish to intrude upon your peace," he said, and I looked at him in awe. "You always seem so relaxed when you are amongst nature, strolling through the starlight. Oft in the evenings, I take a break upon the balcony of my tower, and I have the loveliest view of the moonlight cascading down upon you."

He'd seen me before? I hadn't been aware that he knew of my existence, much less remarked upon the walks I took to clear my head.

"I wish I had mustered my courage earlier, however, since I cannot change my prior cowardice, I would like to focus instead upon the future. Might I have the honor of knowing you better?"

How could I have possibly refused? Why would I? That evening had been the start of a friendship that I'd never expected to have. Celebrimbor was always courteous and warm with me, allowing me to see his forge and discussing his work with me.

He never admitted to any involvement, but I suspected that he was the reason why barely a week after our initial conversation I was allowed - finally - to put away my broom in the healers' halls and begin treating patients. Even the cruel whispers and rumors died down to only the most occasional instance.

The Lord of Eregion shared my joy when my skills were begrudgingly praised, delighting especially when one of Lindon's visiting generals bore witness to my work. He was so pleased with how I'd patched up a small squad of his soldiers that I'd received a letter of thanks from the High King himself by royal messenger not long after the general had reported home safely.

Celebrimbor had been so excited for me that he'd sent his smiths and apprentices home early and opened a bottle of wine in celebration. That night, it had been particularly difficult to tamp down my growing admiration for the gorgeous Ellon who'd been so kind to me. Undoubtedly, he'd never feel more for me than friendship, but my heart did not seem to grasp that particular fact. When he finally walked me to my door and bid me sweet dreams, I knew for certain that I was doomed to love one who could never return my feelings. I was content, however, to simply be around him.

As the years passed, I slowly climbed the ranks of Eregion's healers, eventually earning the grudging respect of my peers, and the one person who had believed in me from the start seemed no less proud of me than he had from the beginning. It was not uncommon, of a free evening, to find me curled up in the uppermost room of Eregion's tower, discussing my lord's latest projects or ideas, or sharing herbal tea and something sweet from one of Eregion's bakers.

Eventually, after about a century's residence in Celebrimbor's city, and after having spent about three quarters of that as his friend, he summoned me to his tower during one of my shifts in the healers' halls. That, in itself, was not uncommon. He and his smiths were rather prone to accidents, especially given the nature of their work. Celebrimbor always asked for me personally, and as this time was no exception, I gathered a bag of medical supplies and hurried to see what might have happened.

The Lord of Eregion had been quite consumed by his latest project, and, though it was a rare occurrence, he had not discussed it once with me. I'd thought it strange that he was being so secretive, but after all, he was the Lord of Eregion first and foremost. He owed me no explanations. I thought nothing of it.

When I arrived, however, instead of seeing the forges blazing and the smiths all chattering about their work, I found only Lord Celebrimbor seated beside one of the windows, holding a letter in his hand. His forges were stone cold, and a sad, worried sort of expression played across his face.

"My lord?" I called quietly, hovering in the doorway. I felt as though I was intruding upon something private to which I ought not be a witness, but he had summoned me. I could not keep him waiting. At my quiet question, he looked up and plastered what I easily recognized as a forced smile across his lips. "You asked for me?"

"I did, mellon-nin," he said, gesturing for me to come closer. "Come, sit with me."

I did as he asked, setting my bag at my feet and looking at him curiously as I perched beside him on the divan.

"Are you hurt?" I could see no evidence of an injury, but he'd hidden them quite well before.

"Oh, no. No, forgive me. I hope I did not worry you," he said patting my arm gently. "Actually, this morning I received a rather important letter from High King Gil-Galad."

Silently, he held the folded parchment out to me, and I accepted it carefully. The King's seal was unmistakable upon the outer fold. My eyes skimmed the neat, swirling hand in which he'd penned his missive, and I had to reread it twice before the meaning fully sank in.

Wide-eyed I looked over at Celebrimbor whose smile now reached his eyes. He still looked rather sad, though.

"The High King wishes me to come to Lindon?" I asked feeling rather stunned. "But...why me?"

"From what I understand, he has heard many positive things about you and your skills as a healer from his soldiers and several of his friends," Celebrimbor said as I handed the letter back to him. "He wishes you to train a group of healers so that Lindon will be in good hands as Eregion is."

I was speechless. Only just managing to keep my jaw from dropping, I blinked uncomprehendingly a few times.

"You come highly recommended to him. In fact, he asked for my opinion, and I told him the truth: that you are one of the most skilled healers of your age that I have ever encountered. Your bedside manner puts your patients at ease, and you are able to tend their wounds calmly and skillfully," Celebrimbor continued, setting the letter aside and grasping my hands. "There is no one better for the position, I assure you. You will excel in Lindon as you have here."

Finally forcing my voice to work again, I found myself stammering.

"I...Did the King specify how long I would need to remain there?"

"He said it might take two years, perhaps three," he answered, and as if he could read my thoughts, Celebrimbor tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes. "Eregion will still be here when you return. In any case, it was not a request. It was an order. You shall need to leave in the morning."

"That soon?" I asked feeling nerves start to bubble up within me. I was excited for the opportunity, of course, and honored beyond words that Gil-Galad had asked for me personally, but...the thought of leaving Celebrimbor and my home at such short notice frightened me.

My lord's arms wrapped around me, drawing me into a tight embrace which I returned wholeheartedly. Burying my face against his shoulder, I savored the feeling of being so close to him. I would not get the opportunity again for a long while.

"Stay here with me tonight," he murmured against my scalp, and I nodded my head silently in agreement. The pair of us barely let go of each other, and when we awoke cuddled together on the divan with the morning light streaming across our sleepy faces and rumpled clothes, there were no sufficient words to express all that we felt at this forced parting.

The final glimpse of Eregion's gates as I passed through them atop my horse, flanked on either side by guards, felt terribly final.

Lord Celebrimbor and I had corresponded via messengers since my arrival at Lindon, but shortly after his new forge had been built, his letters had all but ceased. I tried not to let my heartbreak show, but the High King, who had quickly caught on that my feelings for Celebrimbor were slightly more than friendly, noticed immediately.

After one of my meetings with him discussing the progress of his healers-in-training, he called me to a halt as I prepared to take my leave. His herald - my new and very dear friend, Elrond - was still there, but courteously acting as though he could hear neither of our voices as he packed away a stack of parchment.

"My lady, I have no doubt that he is simply caught up in his work," Gil-Galad said as he offered me a softer look than I was accustomed to seeing upon his regal features. "Given how Lord Celebrimbor has spoken of you in the past, he would not give you up so frivolously."

If only I believed he was right. Oh, I did not believe Celebrimbor to be cruel enough to do so, by any stretch of the imagination. I did not, however, believe myself to be important enough to deserve his attention, even after so many years of friendship.

Instead of voicing such concerns, however, I merely thanked the King for his reassurance, bowed my head respectfully, and went back to my duties.

A few silent months later, however, Elrond sought me out in the healers' halls and led me to an urgent meeting with the King. Beside a small table stood High King Gil-Galad and one of his commanders.

"Thank you for coming, my lady," the King said ushering me to a seat. He dismissed his commander, and I looked at him in askance. "I would not normally trouble you, but I'm afraid this concerns you."

I glanced up at Elrond and found a concerned, slightly guilty expression on his face.

"My lady, we believe that Sauron is in Eregion," the King said, and I felt as though I'd been slapped. "His goal is to create rings of power similar to the trio we already have. Naturally, to do this he would need a skilled smith..."

He trailed off, allowing me to come to the conclusion myself, and when I did, my stomach churned.

"Celebrimbor," I breathed, and he nodded his head.

"We are gathering our armies now, preparing to defend the city against another threat, but as we do so, we will also attempt to remove Lord Celebrimbor from Sauron's influence." Much of what the King said afterward was a blur. When he came to my particular duties as a healer, I paid close attention, noting all the preparations which would need to be made rather rapidly.

Before Elrond could leave, I dragged him into a hug and made him promise to be safe. Not long after, the rest of Lindon's army departed, and I was filling my time with work to distract myself from my fears.

Waiting for the High King and his soldiers to return was tantamount to torture. I had friends who were risking their lives in this conflict, of course, but even more than that, the fate of Eregion terrified me. The city had been my home for nearly a century, and I was naturally concerned for its people, but I was even moreso for Celebrimbor.

If I dwelled for too long upon that distinction, my own selfishness closed around my throat like a vice, forcing conflicted tears to well up in my eyes. When I thought of his kindness and all that he'd done for me, however, I found it easy to blink them back. I could not find it within myself to feel guilty for my concern over one so gentle and warm.

So, I waited with the other healers, giving orders where I could for casualty preparations, ensuring all of the supplies were well-ordered and accessible to all of us. Our patients would have traversed a long road home, victory or no, and we did not wish to prolong their discomfort any more than was necessary.

Horns blared at the gates a few days later, and we rushed out to receive the soldiers, injured and exhausted as they doubtless were. Fear scraped away inside me when I contemplated how many might have been lost when I saw how somber the mood was.

Tamping down my personal feelings, I moved with the swarm of healers, pulling aside all who were injured and beginning to treat the most serious problems first. We'd been working for only a few hours when a hand landed on my shoulder.

Elrond, dirty, defeated, and utterly bereaved stood at my side.

"Mellon-nin," he breathed, and I wrapped my arms around him. He embraced me fiercely, silent sobs wracking him as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. "Eregion..."

My heart constricted at his tone.

"The city fell," he mourned, and I felt a rising sort of panic.

"Did any escape? The people? The soldiers?" I asked, hesitating before I added, "Lord Celebrimbor?"

His nod against my shoulder brought tears to my own eyes. When he pulled back, he took a deep breath to steady himself.

"The High King wishes to see you. Immediately. You will want to bring supplies with you," Elrond murmured, but I caught sight of blood-soaked fabric peeking out from beneath his armor. I waved one of my best healers over.

"Thank you, mellon-nin. I am glad beyond words to see you returned. I'll go to the King now, but you are not to leave until your injuries have been seen to. No arguments, darling herald."

He gave me a damp smile and acquiesced to my demand after stealing another quick hug.

Tucking into a bag everything that I would need to treat potential injuries inflicted upon the High King, I rushed down the corridors on the heels of the soldier sent to guide me. He would not have sent for me unless it was serious. Instead of finding the King inside, however, he was just outside the door speaking with one of his guards. Gil-Galad dismissed both guards almost as soon as I arrived.

"Thank you for coming with such haste," he said, and as I took him in, he looked dirty, bruised, but otherwise unharmed.

"I was told you required a healer, Your Grace."

"Not I, though I did send for you. Your patient is within. You needn't knock," he said gesturing to the door to his guest's rooms. I made to go inside, but he caught my elbow, drawing me to a gentle stop. "My lady, I should warn you...'tis Lord Celebrimbor."

My heart nearly beat out of my chest with worry.

"How bad is it?" I rasped, and the High King's expression softened.

"Breathe. It is not life-threatening." I nearly fainted with relief, sagging heavily against the wall and allowing my eyelids to flutter shut. Gil-Galad placed a comforting hand upon my shoulder. "He was being held and manipulated by Sauron. He was chained to his forge with unbreakable restraints. The only way he could escape was to...remove one of his thumbs."

My eyes snapped up to meet his in utter horror at what Celebrimbor had been forced to do simply to preserve his own life. Finally, I forced myself to draw a steadying breath.

"Is there any swelling? Inflammation?" I managed to ask, and the King shook his head.

"No, there have been no complications thus far," he said, but he hesitated a moment. "I called for you, not because of the severity of his injury, but because he needs you. He rested only fitfully in his saddle. He called out for you...wept in his sleep."

Me? He'd called out for me?

"You are the greatest comfort he could have, my lady. He may not yet know that he has your love, but he needs it nonetheless."

I straightened as heat spread across my face. Gil-Galad had known of my feelings for Eregion's lord for some time, but we'd never discussed it so openly before. Oh, certainly he'd eluded to the subject before, giving subtle hints and encouragement when our correspondence effectively ended, but this...

"Thank you, Your Grace," I said in the steadiest voice I could manage. I hoped he understood that I didn't just mean for the reassurance. When he bowed his head and took his leave, I faced the door, steeling my nerves as I pulled it open–

And my breath froze in my chest. There, kneeling upon the ground in the middle of the floor, staring out into the sunlit garden, was Lord Celebrimbor. He seemed not to notice my entry. Closing the door behind me, I walked slowly over to him. Seeming both penitent and relieved, Eregion's lord remained stationary as the golden light of day poured across his skin. Dirt, grime, and dried blood covered him, but he was still the loveliest sight I'd ever laid eyes upon.

"My lord?" I murmured quietly, setting aside my bag as I knelt beside him, and with a slow blink, he roused himself from whatever thoughts had so captivated him. Slowly, he turned to face me, and amidst the dirt on his face, there were tear tracks.

His lips parted in surprise when he saw me, and when I offered him a gentle smile, he lifted his uninjured hand, caressing my face as if he could not believe that I was truly there.

I leaned more solidly into his touch, closing my eyes against the rising emotions within me, and a broken sob of my name tore from his lips.

"Y-You're here. You're real," he croaked as he began to weep. I drew him into my arms without a moment's hesitation. Clutching at me as if I might disappear, Celebrimbor fell to pieces in my arms. I could do no more than whisper reassurances and press gentle kisses atop his head.

An Ellon as sweet as he did not deserve to feel as terrible as he clearly did. The urge to smite Sauron - to rend him in half with my bare hands - grew with every tremble of my lord's frame beneath my hands.

In fragments, he spilled the story to me, explaining all that had happened between himself and Sauron - including how he found fragments of one of his letters to me in the corner of his forge where the manipulative bastard had thrown it. Hushing Celebrimbor's subsequent apologies, I ran my fingers gently through his hair, trying to soothe him.

Eventually, his tears dried up, his breathing became steadier, and he lifted his head from my shoulder. Without thought, he cupped my face with both hands. A grimace twisted his features and he began to whisper shame-filled apologies as he pulled his injured hand away.

I caught his wrist carefully, and pressed my own fingertips gently against his lips to silence him. Celebrimbor looked stunned even as his cheeks reddened.

"Have you forgotten that I am a healer, my lord? You needn't apologize. I have seen and treated much worse." His shoulders dropped a small measure at my reassurance, and I turned my attention to his poor hand. At least the cut had been clean. It was already beginning to heal quite nicely, but it would still need a little help. "Truthfully, this is doing quite well. Might I make a suggestion?"

"Anything," he breathed, and the sincerity in his eyes tore at my heart.

"It would be wise for me to give this a preliminary wash, then cover it in a protective layer so that we can get the rest of you clean. Afterward, I should be able to patch you up much easier, but only if that is agreeable to you," I said, but he was already nodding his head.

"Yes. Yes, entirely agreeable," he said beginning to smile tentatively again. "I shall humbly submit to any treatment you think is necessary."

My breath hitched in my throat. How could he still be so trusting even after everything that had happened? I vowed to myself that I would never abuse his trust. I loved him too much to even consider such treachery.

"Let me fetch a basin and send for a bath to be drawn, and I shall be right back," I promised, and he drew a shaky breath as I stood.

I was only apart from him for a few moments, but when I returned with the basin of water and the supplies, he looked up at me like he'd never been happier to see me. The joy radiating from him even beneath the dirt and dried blood covering his skin relaxed a ball of tension that had resided in me since I heard about the threat to him and his city.

He was here. He was alright. And Sauron had not broken that which was most important: his spirit.

Setting everything beside us, I laid a towel across my lap and gently pulled his sleeve back past his elbow. Shuffling a little closer so that neither of us would strain ourselves in the reach, I began to clean his wound, as well as his arm so that he needn't get it wet during his bath.

As I worked, we fell into a companionable silence that was only broken when a few strands of hair fell into my face having escaped my hair ribbon. With a touch lighter than a smith should ever have, Celebrimbor moved them behind my ear, his large, warm fingertip brushing over the point.

He'd never done that before.

I looked up to thank him, and I was taken aback by how close we were to each other. My nose was barely an inch from his. I swallowed heavily, forcing my heart, racing though it was, to remain silent.

"Thank you, my lord," I whispered. His breath caressed my skin, and I forced myself to look back down and finish my task. He did not need to be bothered with a childish infatuation. Why, oh why was professional distance so difficult to maintain around him?

Wrapping a few protective layers over the freshly cleaned wound, I tied it off carefully. It was a bit looser than I would normally make a dressing, but it was only meant to last long enough for a bath.

A knock sounded at the door as I finished up, and that, thankfully, was the announcement that it was ready - apparently the speed was thanks to High King Gil-Galad's foresight. He'd ordered the water drawn and heated when he sent for me, to be delivered when I asked.

Once we were both on our feet, however, Lord Celebrimbor seemed to freeze, nerves playing across his features.

"Is something amiss? Are you in pain?" I asked, but he'd shown no sign of it thus far. He drew a deep breath, his cheeks turning a bright red.

"You needn't do this if you...if this causes you discomfort, I'm certain I could manage." He sounded so embarrassed. At my confused expression, however, he elaborated. "I do not wish to be improper. To force you to see...well, more of me than is decent."

The precious man. Was that all he was worried about?

"There is no need for shame," I murmured, "in my occupation, nudity is as common as leaves on trees. I shall touch you no more than is necessary, and the moment you wish for privacy, you need only tell me, and you shall have it."

Celebrimbor seemed relieved, which wasn't surprising since Sauron had been holding him captive. I doubted he'd been left alone for even a moment.

"I...do not wish to inconvenience you, but I...don't think I..." he stammered as he tried to compose his thoughts. "Washing might be difficult on my own. I should be able to do some myself, but the rest..."

Holding his good hand with my own, I gave him a gentle smile.

"It is no inconvenience, and you should not be made to feel guilty for daring to ask for help." After a brief hesitation he nodded his head.

"In that case, thank you, híril vuin. I would be glad of your assistance," he said allowing me to lead him to the bathroom.

Carefully, I untied the laces of his tunic, easing the fabric from his injured side and apologizing every time I even expected him to twitch in discomfort. His bare chest ought not to have surprised me; he was used to laboring in his forge. His defined musculature was well-earned. Once he was down to just his leggings, he blushed brightly, and he asked if I might step out while he got into the bath. He would still need help washing, so I would need to return, but I could easily grant him that.

"Thank you, my lady. I realize that it is silly for me to ask, but..." he shrugged and trailed off bashfully.

"It is not silly, especially if such a simple thing would help you feel comfortable. Oh, by the way, have you eaten today?"

"I believe so, but...several hours ago." Nodding quietly to myself, I formed a plan.

"Then, I shall have some food sent up. I'll just be in the other room, so when you're ready to wash, call for me," I ordered, and he nodded his head. "Do not be afraid to ask for help should you need it before then."

I expected him to protest, but he agreed easily, allowing me to pat his bare shoulder before I stepped out.

Locating the servant that Gil-Galad had assigned to us, I asked for a dinner tray, along with a plate of lemon cakes and a pot of herbal tea - a sweet combination that I knew Lord Celebrimbor favored.

Though the cakes would not heal his thumb, they were exactly what he needed to lift his spirits. Something familiar that might bring him some comfort.

Ducking back into the bathroom when he called for me, I saw that my patient now lay with his eyes closed and his head resting against the rim of the tub behind him. Injured hand aside, he looked like one of the Valar lounging after a battle - a beautiful, larger-than-life figure in resplendent repose. I almost hated to disturb him.

He'd clearly managed to clean his face and part of his upper body, but his hair and back needed a little attention, along with his right arm. As I approached, I did my best to keep from looking lower than his neck, staunchly ignoring the part of my mind that was too focused on how good he looked while wet.

I moved a stool beside the tub and picked up the washcloth that he'd draped over the rim. When I looked back up at him, Celebrimbor's eyes were already watching me as a small smile stole over his lips.

"May I touch you, mellon-nin?" I asked, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb the calm spell that seemed to have fallen over us both. Had his pupils blown wider, or was that my own wishful thinking?

"Of course, you may. You, of all people, need never ask," he murmured.

"If you want me to stop at any point, tell me, and I swear to you–"

Celebrimbor grasped my hand.

"I know, mîr-nin," he said leaning forward until his damp forehead could meet mine. "I trust you. You have never hurt me, nor would you ever do so."

Drawing in a shaky breath, I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut. He'd never called me his jewel before. Surely, that was a sign of his exhaustion. Celebrimbor always had become softer and more prone to displaying platonic affection when he'd worked for too long, ignoring his own growing fatigue. As much as I wished it had meant more, I knew it never would, but as our breath mingled in this stolen moment, I felt a flicker of hope.

When we eventually pulled far enough apart for me to help him wash up, I tried to focus on the task at hand, rather than the feeling of my lord's muscles beneath my soapy fingers. Although, admittedly, I did allow myself the indulgence of giving him a small scalp massage as I washed his hair, combing my fingertips through his locks until not a single tangle impeded their flow.

Eventually, the water lost its heat, and I fetched a bathrobe and some towels from the side, bringing them closer for his use.

"If you would like me to step out..." I began to offer, but Celebrimbor shook his head.

"No. Truly, I should not have sent you out before. I was...Well, I feel much more like myself, now," he said, "and I have never been afraid of you seeing all of me. You know more of me than any other."

With a gentle smile, I moved the stool I'd been sitting on back to its place in the corner, draped a towel over my arm, and offered my lord my hands. He didn't hesitate to take them. Once he was on his feet, I glanced down to help him step out of the tub and–

Where toned thighs met, I was not at all surprised to see that his endowment was as attractive as the rest of him. And suitably sized.

My eyes met his, and I had no doubt he could tell I'd looked. Professional distance aside, I couldn't help giving him a mischievous smile.

"As I said before: you have no reason to be ashamed," I murmured, hoping that he could hear that which I was too afraid to say - the opinion which I, a mere healer, had no right to hold.

In no time at all, Celebrimbor was dry and wrapped in a soft set of silk robes. We thought it best, as he would be recovering from his ordeal for the next few days at least, to forego higher maintenance garments.

"Lemon cakes?" Celebrimbor asked as he took a seat on the divan that I'd moved farther into the sunlight - he seemed to savor it before. He looked between me and the tray as if attempting to solve a problem. "They're my favorite, but...how did you...?"

I couldn't help but smile as I crushed some herbs in a mortar and pestle, adding in some oils to bind the mixture together.

"You mentioned it the day we met," I answered. That day was one of my most pleasant memories, despite how it had started. The scent of dogwood blossoms still lingered in my memory as sweetly as perfume, lulling me back to that day as gently as a spring breeze.

"But...that was decades ago. Why would you remember something so trivial?" He asked, and looked up at him. Disbelief colored his features along with something softer - something I'd never dared to imagine seeing upon his face.

"Because it's something about you," I admitted as my heart hammered in my chest. Dropping my gaze back to the herbs, I tried to act as though I was still completely focused on creating the poultice my lord's hand required instead of my poor racing heart. Dropping my voice to a whisper, I both hoped and did not hope that he would hear me. "Everything about you matters to me."

Carrying the mortar and pestle over once I'd gathered myself, I took a seat beside him and lifted his injured hand.

"Forgive me. This will sting for a moment, but the oils should soothe the pain away quite quickly," I stated. With all the care I could muster, I scooped out part of the light green substance and dabbed it ever-so-lightly upon his wound. He didn't even flinch as I worked.

Truly, I should not have been surprised. Celebrimbor was a smith. He was used to injuries, even if they were not on par with...well, this. I'd set a broken bone in the same hand merely a decade before I was sent to Lindon, and even then he'd only let out a slight hiss of pain. Pride stabbed through me. Of course he'd escaped Sauron. How could he not with such strength?

My vision blurred as I reached for the gauze and cloth that I was meant to be covering the wound with, but I didn't truly process that I was crying until Celebrimbor brushed my tears away with his uninjured hand.

"What are these tears? Am I not meant to be the one in pain?" He asked giving me the same sweet smile he'd offered the day we met.

Turning just far enough to kiss his wrist, I tried to reassure him.

"I'm not in pain. I am more relieved than I have been in all my life." That was far too close to an admission for my taste, but after coming a hair's breadth from losing him, did I really want to stay silent for much longer? Carefully, I began wrapping his hand, ensuring that it was not too loose or too tight.

When I tied off the end over his palm, however, it occurred to me that after all he'd been through, Celebrimbor did not need a declaration of that sort after such a harrowing experience. He just needed a friend to be there with him. As that was all I would likely ever be to him, I smiled up at him and asked him how it felt.

"Perfect," he murmured in a lower, slightly rougher voice than before. Had I caused him more pain? Was the mix of oils wrong?

No. No, breathe. I'd treated Lord Celebrimbor before, and though he was the embodiment of kindness, he would've told me if something felt wrong. Perhaps he was tired? Yes, that was it. His long journey must be catching up with him. I'd noted the same when he was in the bath, so surely that was the only explanation. Carefully, I wiped my hands clean.

"We should change this in the morning and again before you go to bed tomorrow," I murmured, forcing out the professional advice that was so familiar to me. "We'll carry on like that for a few days, and see how you are healing as time progresses."

"As my healer wishes, but..." Celebrimbor trailed off, pausing as if he was considering whether to speak or remain silent. "You're...not leaving yet, are you?"

There was something vulnerable and frightened in his eyes now, something fragile that I was quite sure might break if I did leave. Instead, I smiled at him and shook my head.

"No, my lord. I will stay here with you as long as you wish," I promised, and his shoulders sagged in relief. After setting aside my supplies, I poured his tea how I knew he preferred it, and in the peace of Lindon's golden sunlight, we chatted as we used to. Since our correspondence had been so rudely prevented by a certain dark force, we filled each other in on all that we'd missed.

Celebrimbor insisted during that time, that I help him eat those lemon cakes. By the time the sun had begun to set, we'd even sent for a second pot of tea.

Amidst a lull in the conversation, Celebrimbor covered my hands with his own. My eyes flicked up to his, only to find him looking at me as if I'd hung the very stars in the sky.

"Is something amiss, my lord?"

"I should have told you years ago," he whispered. "I was a coward for so long. I only made it back here - back to you - by the sheerest of luck. I very nearly lost my chance entirely."

"After all these years, 'coward' is not a word I would ever think to call you," I said, but he shook his head.

"But I am. I have been so afraid that I would ruin the rapport that we've built," he insisted. "I am a coward, because I could not tell you until it was very nearly too late. I think a part of me hoped that if I could create something worthwhile...something to change Middle Earth, I would be worthy of risking the admission."

"What do you mean, mellon-nin?"

"My tunic!" He blurted, and at the alarm in his features, I startled.

"I don't understand. What about it, my lord?"

"Has it been taken away to be cleaned yet?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"No, my lord, I haven't had the chance, yet. I can do so now," I said, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank the Valar! No, don't take it yet, but...would you bring it to me?" Without hesitation, I hurried over to the table where I'd laid his clothing and pulled out his rumpled tunic. The stained green velvet had clearly seen better days. I sat beside him once more, and he folded the top inside out. Just inside the neckline, there was a small, concealed pocket. From within it, he pulled a velvet drawstring bag.

Discarding the tunic carelessly on the floor beside him, he took a steadying breath and offered me the bag. I accepted it cautiously, in case whatever was inside was fragile.

"This was the only thing I wanted to sneak out of my forge. The only thing that really mattered besides the nine," he said sounding more nervous than he had for most of the night. Darting his eyes between the bag and my face, Celebrimbor's tongue wetted his lips. "I meant to give it to you before you came to Lindon, but...I wasn't sure if...well..."

He trailed off and swallowed nervously.

"I feel fortunate to even have the opportunity to tell you, late though I am," he murmured. "Please...open it."

Carefully loosening the drawstring, I tipped the contents of the bag gently into my palm. Gleaming silver inlaid with the purest, brightest diamonds I'd ever seen sparkled up at me. Setting the bag aside, I lifted what I thought at first was a necklace, but upon its unfurling, I realized it was something entirely different.

"My lord, this is much too beautiful for one of my station," I protested looking up at him in awe.

"Nonsense. A circlet of a static shape would not adapt well if you wanted to wear your hair in more than one style. Such an adornment was a pleasure to make...for the Lady of Eregion," the last part of his statement came out as a whisper, and I froze. "I-I realize that title would not be applicable now, because Eregion is no more, but...I still wish you to have this. E-Even if you do not feel the same affection for me that I do for you, I still believe it would complement your beauty–"

My lips met his, cutting off his rambling. How could he think I would not want him? After all this time, after a century, I would've thought that I'd failed to hide my feelings quite spectacularly on several occasions. Lingering embraces, rather obviously adoring looks, spending practically all my time with him in his study and his forge - I had not been subtle, mentally berating myself on countless occasions for overstepping my bounds.

"I love you," I blurted as soon as we separated. "Since the day we met, I have held no other in higher regard. But...my lord, I am only Half-elven. You deserve so much better than me."

"Ridiculous. Of all the people I have encountered, you have done something that no other has: you have filled a hole in my heart which I did not know existed before we met. You have given me more to look forward to than just my work and my duties," he said cupping my face so gently between his strong, calloused fingers. The softness of his smile, the lines adorning the outer corners of his eyes - everything about him was so open and vulnerable that despite all the decades of accumulated doubts and fears, I believed him. "Meleth, your light chases away even the darkest of shadows. I love you, and I would spend my life with none but you."

When his lips claimed my own, he tasted of citrus, sugar, and courage. The next morning when High King Gil-Galad asked me to report on Lord Celebrimbor's condition, he noted the gleaming silver atop my head with a conspiratorial smirk and ordered me back to my patient's side. For his health, of course. If he called out a quiet congratulatory wish as I left, well, who could comment upon the thoughts of kings?

~*~*~

Elvish Words:

mîr-nin = my jewel

híril vuin = beloved lady

hir-nin = my lord

meleth = love

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @horta-in-charge @gandalfthepimp

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #celebrimbor x reader

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thistlearts · 1 year ago

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It's so funny how some puriteens tell people to "go seek therapy" if they are proship, and have taboo kinks or defend people who have taboo kinks. Because in reality of professional therapists (not in antis fantasies abut how therapy actually works) this would look like this: Proshipper goes to therapy. Therapist: How can I help you? What bothers you? Proshipper: Someone on the internet said that I need to go to therapy because I ship age gaps and incest. And sometimes the characters I ship are abusive towards each other or others. They can be even serial killers or monsters. Therapist: Does that make you feel like you want to do all those things IRL? Proshipper: No, of course not. Therapist: Is anyone doing this to you IRL? Proshipper: Not as far as I am aware. Therapist: That's totally fine to have taboo erotic fantasies. But I would suggest we talk about your boundaries and why you allow strangers on the internet to give you unsolicited advice on your mental health over personal things such as kinks and erotic fantasies which harm no one and don't involve anyone but you and fictional characters. N.B. This is of course a joking oversimplification of how therapy works, but if someone thinks a professional therapist would essentially try to shame their client for sexual fantasies, they are delusional. P.S. I was told in the comments that the word "delusional" is often used as a mean to insult people with mental problems. I apologize that it might come off as such. English is not my native language and as far as we use this word's equivalent in my tongue is in the meaning "to be mistaken about something, since you only have an illusion of a fact not an actual real experience with it". It has nothing to do with mental health, but only with someone believing a perceived reality that is not correlating with facts due to lack of knowledge/experience.

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wraithdance · 28 days ago

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I wanna touch on a couple things I noticed from the asks that are being sent regarding the current discourse. About a month ago I received this ask, wanting me to 'name, names' after I made some generalized post about something or another (probs racism per usual because that's been consistent)

What I don't make clear outside of the vetted and trusted people I speak to daily, is I usually send messages to the person I'm talking about in hopes to advise that something was not hitting. I’ve blocked a couple ppl whenever I feel like my point was dismissed because I don’t got the time baby

Occasionally, I'll do anon if I'm just not in the mood for potential issues if the ask gets answered publicly and the reason for that is what I'm about to show you.

This is an ask my mutual @kyletogaz got after expressing frustration about the situation/lack of apology and so is this and this. And this is a link to @ungodlybre post on all the asks she's gotten in the last few days after she commented on a post about the Mace fic. I just received an ask a few seconds ago yall can look at as well

This is the post my friend/mutual kiko made that I reblogged and essentially got the ball rolling on the current convo about how Mace/black characters are depicted in fiction. Kiko has been one of the few other poc people providing links and information on what the issue is with the fic.

I noticed the glaring tonal difference in how non black people like Kiko, who originally brought up the issue, are in comparison to the black female bloggers that I referred to earlier, after they expressed frustration about the new crop of fandom shit.

I couldn't find the ask that @/Fulltacs (a non black person) answered when asked about why the writer was getting heat, but I read the ask and it was actually pretty respectful towards fulltacs, while being incredibly dismissive/rude when referring to Bre (@/ungodlybre)

I've seen several of my white mutuals repeat in their tags/posts the issue about the fic and what not. I have yet to see them receive the kind of directly antagonistic asks from anons who claim to be black/poc with the intent to shut down or convince us to stop talking about the writer. I’m not gonna get into digital blackface or blackfishing but I have my doubts on these anons being racially black.

Overall this is all an example of something called racial gaslighting but specifically misogynoir

Misogynoir is a form of racial microaggression towards black women where race and gender meet. It usually stems from implicit bias, which is the reason why people had a problem with the fic in the first place. Not the damn kink. or even the unwitting use of an anti black slur.

The continued dismissing about word use/forgiving the author and the overall vitriolic tone asking these black women to educate or saying things like: ' You are a bully’ ‘shut up because it's not that big of a deal’, ‘the writer tried or I'm black and-' is just an example of how black women are spoken to on and outside the internet and why many of us have chosen to not directly say anything about racism outside of private messages.

It’s why Kiko and the mutual that dm’d @/auspicoustidings are latinas who’ve chosen to address the situation as an act of solidarity when Jess (kyletogaz) and I were excited to read the Mace fic and were unsettled by it

"the intersectional nature of Black women’s identities triggers a particularized stereotype or trope of the “Angry Black Woman” and explains how this trope is often invoked in aggressive encounters to deflect attention from the aggressor and to project blame onto the target." - A quote From this article

“racial microaggressions are subtle and everyday slights and insults that can include insensitive comments based on an array of racial assumptions … as well as the minimization or denial of the racialized experiences of people of color.” - From this study on Perceived Gendered Racial Microaggressions Experienced by Black Women.

I don’t have the time or the desire to do a crash course on misogynoir and the ways implicit bias shows up in real life and fandom. What I can say is if you need or want the visibly/vocally black people in this fandom to shut the fuck up right now, while non black people (including the author) are being afforded a sense of kindness/assumption of innocence and well doing for speaking up, than you are apart of an anti black problem

Those black bloggers said innocuous shit like “long suffering sigh” or “hate to see it” and are still getting hate and that is the reason we are saying many fics about black characters like Kyle who is often disregarded, make us uncomfortable . This kind of bias is a dog whistle only those who have been raised black/poc see irl and it’s present in the way people write fics.

My ask is for people to take a second and really ask yourselves if you think this is a safe space for Black/non black poc people to educate on racist tropes in writing and then I wanna know if you even realized that before I said something

#racial gaslighting at is best #with its sister misogynoir

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504py · 9 months ago

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Yandere Prussia Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, no use of Y/N, NSFW, murder, kidnapping mention, stalking, long post ahead!

we're SO BACK JOE. i apologize in advance if i write him strangely 😭😭🙏 but here it is! come get y'all juice!! slowly coming back to hetalia, so my inbox is once again open!!! hope y'all like it!

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

How the relationship started...

Gilbert is a very competitive man, and he can't help but be attracted by challenges, even if those challenges are ones that he himself proposes and the other party is completely unaware. This is what has unfortunately happened between you two, and it all started when you rejected his advances towards you.

I apologize for saying this, but I feel that Gilbert is a bit of a "nice guy". He saw you initially as just some pretty person he could fool around and flirt with, but you, obviously, saw right through his act, and said something that stuck with him.

"Are you normally this pathetic?"

He's taken aback, and his red irises shake a little.

Of course, he's used to insults being flung his way, what with how he acts, but a shot to how cool he perceives himself to be would stick.

His white brows crease his previously smirking face, before snapping back.

"Well fuck you too!"

Gilbert wouldn't have any contact with you following this interaction for a long while, and while he tries to forget you and erase you from his memory, you and your words have been laser-burnt into the creases of his brain. You and your damned smile when you look at anyone other than him, the softer tone your voice takes when you talk to other people, versus how your voice seems to have been drained of all enthusiasm and feels like it's a knife dripping with venom when Gilbert talks to you. Why didn't he deserve that nice treatment, too? Was he not even deserving of a small smile from you? He wants you to like him, too. He wants to be the person you like the most; to be the best.

Which resulted in him showing up at your door one evening with flowers and your favorite takeout.

Why does he know your address and why does he know your favorite food and flowers, you ask? Don't worry about it (He was obsessively stalking your social media during the month he was gone).

Gilbert apologizes to you, he sounds sincere, and like the oh-so kind person you are, or maybe you just wanted the food and flowers, you let him into your home.

Expectations...

Gilbert is a very insecure man. His only expectation is for you to look at only him and to love him only. Perhaps he wants you to love him the same way he loves you, obsessively, but he does like the challenge.

He feels like, maybe, if he can fully prove himself to you one day and have your validation, only then can he truly see himself as worthy, as the best for you.

He would have a lot of tunnel vision when it comes to you. To Gilbert, the rest of the world doesn't matter, because you are his whole world. He does tend to look pretty stupid because of it sometimes, but he couldn't care less.

You want him to cook and clean around the house? He'll do it.

You want him to change up his style even if he doesn't really like it? Of course he will!

You want him to carry all the bags while you're out shopping? In a heartbeat. Plus, he gets to show off his strength too. He'd carry you too if you allowed it.

Even if he tries his best not to come off as cocky, he really does like showing off. Being with you has sort of domesticated him, so he'd be a lot more shy about making a show of himself.

I think he'd act like this irregardless on if you accepted him as your boyfriend or not, if anything, I think he'd be even more of a doormat if you refuse to accept him.

He'd get crazier and crazier with his attempts to prove himself to you, such as buying extravagant gifts, doing anything and everything under the sun and moon for you, hell, he'd even legally change his name if you didn't like it.

If you still don't accept him despite everything he's done, I think he'd snap and just take you. He'll keep you with him so you won't run away and he can have as many attempts as it takes to prove himself to you.

But I imagine you'd cave from the guilt and persistence, and eventually accept him. At which, he'd literally scream from relief and happiness and swing you around, before realizing how rough he's being with you and hurriedly putting you back down and apologizing.

Yet he still has that wide toothy grin the whole time, and he keeps petting your hair and holding your face in his hands adoringly. It feels that, from that moment on, there would never be a moment where he'd be unhappy ever again, and he'd never allow you to be unhappy either as long as he's around.

It is genuinely very hard to make this Gilbert upset, because there are very few things that do...

Punishments...

Gilbert really hates it when you express any sort of affection towards anyone or anything other than him.

Yes, anything. He gets jealous if you show too much affection over his dogs or fawn over them too much. I'm seriously saying this, I think he'd later show up with a collar around his neck, crawling on the ground and rubbing his head against your thigh like a mutt. This could either come off as comedic or attractive depending on you, but either is a win in Gilbert's book, since at least he's got your attention now.

If you have any personal toys of your own, he'd get kinda emotional and ask you to throw them away, then ask what they do that he can't. In some time (and by that I mean later that night, maybe even right away), he'd prove that he can provide you with so much more pleasure and relief than those toys ever could.

Probably even to a fault, he'd keep overstimulating you and forcing orgasms till he was satisfied, till he believed that it was drilled into your brain that only he could do these sorts of things to you. And, also, that if you make him jealous like this again, it'll be another one of these long, torturous, sweaty nights...

I guess these aren't really punishments to a lot of people, because in my book only one thing could make him so genuinely upset that he'd be anything other than doting towards you, and that would be flirting with someone else. He'd try to deny it, but then he'd be inconsolable and crying for weeks, having nights where he'd be begging you to say that it never happened, or that the other person meant nothing to you.

"They r-really mean nothing to you? You mean it, babe?"

Then an idea pops into Gilbert's head, one that makes his heart rate pick up and his pupils dilate.

He kisses you, says that he loves you, says goodnight, then he'd be eerily... calm for the next few days. Usually he'd be more skittish and closed-off following whatever you did, but now he's acting like nothing ever happened.

Until one day, he shows up with that other person, bound and gagged, and a gun.

"G-Gil, what is thi-"

"They mean nothing to you, right?"

"Y-Yes, but-"

Then the gun fires, and it happens so quickly that you can barely process it.

This is only a hypothetical scenario, if you were ever to do something like that. It'd be really easy for Gilbert to slip into a psychosis and believe he was doing the right thing by murdering someone.

If anything, he sees it as another means of proving himself.

"There's no one else who would kill for you like I could."

All in all, he isn't easy to anger, but unfortunately I can't say the same thing about him and murder...

Rewards...

Luckily, as long as you're fully loyal to him, all you'd have is a boyfriend who is doting to a total fault.

As long as you've got a good tolerance for cringe, being with Gilbert should be relatively stress-free.

Gilbert's love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch. You could imagine what the two combined would be... Yeah, he's got a huge praise kink.

But as for ways he shows his love towards you, it's definitely acts of service and gift giving. He lilkes gloating a lot, and that's especially true when it comes to the two of you.

He enjoys showing you off. He likes buying gaudy things for you and himself– a huge fan of matching outfits– and taking you out on flashy dates. If you're comfortable with being posted on his social media, best believe he'd be spamming his with you ALL the time. Even if you're not being physically being shown, he'd write about you in his tweets, captions, and stories constantly.

"CHECK OUT THIS EPIC BAG I GOT FOR MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!"

And around twenty-eight people respond like "Didn't you just get them one the other day??"

If you're one to hop between interests and hobbies a lot, or just have any hyperfixations in general, best believe Gilbert will be fueling them LOL.

Gilbert can be really overbearing with his affections, but to him it's just because you deserve it so much. Only the best for the best, right?

He can't help it either, the most rewarding thing he's ever felt is that feeling he gets after he gives you a gift or does something for you. You get this adorable look on your face, smiling at him like he was the stars in the sky and singing out the sweetest compliments and thanks. It's all so worth it.

Normally I'd delve into what Gilbert would love to receive from his partner in return, but in all seriousness, I really do think all he wants is praise and your sole affection.

Like Alfred in my last headcanon post, Gilbert is really noisy, but I think he'd willingly make an effort to change that for you. Not because you asked for it or anything, but just cause, this way, he can appreciate all the tiny little things about you even more.

He realized this, when, one day, he noticed you frown a little before you smile. He wonders why he's never noticed this, and he realizes it's because he closes his eyes right when he starts to laugh. He starts to wonder what other little details about you he's missing out on, so he watches you more carefully in that effort.

Inadvertently, this has made him more calm and quiet since he's so concentrated on you. He likes it, though.

I think, what punctuates Gilbert's character here, is his willingness to change and bend for love's sake.

He does say he loves you very often, to the point of it being annoying sometimes, but he sincerely does mean it. He doesn't say it as just fluff.

However, you'll feel it most with the way he looks at you.

"You have a mole on your back. Did you know that, babe?"

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

(art used is mine, so please do show it some love on my blog as well! thinking of starting a taglist?)

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geraskierfanficprompts · 6 months ago

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Prompt 39

Geralt is standing above the unconscious bloodied body of his beloved, Jaskier. The mage Geralt was tracking down to kill had meant to blast Geralt, but Jaskier had tackled the mage and things got ugly. The mage chuckles, eerily, and prowls closer. "So the mighty witcher has a weakness after all. Perhaps it'd be best if I do let you both live. Eternal sorrow is far more delicious than a passing trifle." And Geralt falls unconscious. He relives his entire life through flashes of memories, though they're all cruel and wrong. Things happen differently, skewed and twisted. The first time he meets Jaskier, he punches him in the stomach. Jaskier is standing beside him, near a body of water, as Geralt insults his voice. His passion, his livelihood, his reason for living. Jaskier standing outside awkwardly as Geralt fucks Yennefer. Geralt can see him in his peripheral, and yet he doesn't stop, nor even have the decency to pull the curtains, he just continues. Soon enough, the blur of colors at the edge of his vision disappears as Jaskier runs into the distance. Geralt however thinks that the worst memories are the quick three-second flashes of him just endlessly needlessly insulting Jaskier throughout their decades of companionship. It's not banter, it's not teasing, it's just abuse. Then Geralt is suddenly on a mountain, and he's yelling at Jaskier. "If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!" ... Nevermind. This is the worst one. Geralt is sick to his stomach. Jaskier's eyes widen, and begin to tear up. His face pales of blood, he looks like he's about to faint. His lip even quivers, the way it does when he's well and truly devastated. And Geralt did that to him. "Right.. Uh.. I'll get the rest of the story from the others. I'll see you around Geralt." But then he wakes up in Yennefer's hut. "Where's Jaskier?" he asks immediately. "That bard you hated? The one that followed you around for a few years? I don't know. It's been years since you've even thought about that wretch." He explains that this is wrong. That he loves Jaskier. He adores him. And she tuts sympathetically before explaining that it was a spell the mage put him under. Fake memories of a life where he paired up with the bard. She mimes gagging at the sentiment and he feels hot with anger. As if Jaskier is such a bad choice of romantic partner. He storms out of her place and races off to find his bard. He needs to know for sure what their standing is, and even if he has been cruel, he can at least apologize to the poor bard. "I don't know what to do, Yenna!" A bandaged Jaskier shrieked as the afformentioned witch examined Geralt for the fourth time that hour. Geralt lay comatose in her guest bed, under some sort of spell. Every once in a while, Geralt frowns or winces in his sleep, but that's all they can get from him. "He hasn't woken up since we were fighting the mage." She has a feeling she knows what sort of spell it is. A very cruel trick to play. The mage was smart enough to trust Geralt's self-flagellation. That upon waking from a fake world he perceived as real where all he did was harm Jaskier, he'd most certainly distance himself from the real Jaskier in fear of becoming the version of him in the curse. The mage was dumb enough however, to not think of how far Jaskier would go to save his beloved.

#this might be my fav one yet lol #i like this prompt :)#geraskier #fanfiction prompts #geralt x jaskier #geralt x dandelion #witcher fanfiction #geralt loves his bard!#the witcher #writing prompts #requited unrequited love #friends to lovers #yes i DID make the mountain Geralts worst nightmare and all a figment of his own imagination under a curse #its what she deserves #the she is me #gerlion #yennefer is just a friend #geralt jaskier yennefer polycule isnt my jam but i respect it #i just like yenna being their bitchy gay friend more PAGWHAPWHAWPGH #i just think jaskier going into geralts fake world and having to reassure his witcher that geralt ISNT the monster netflix made him out to #woudl be cool and gay and cute adn sweet and i wish someone would write it pretty please #yes just the end could be the prompt but i must explain my WHOLE VISION thus the very long prompt

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misc-obeyme · 10 months ago

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Hi cc💕 could I request some mammon fluff headcanons 🥺🥺

Hi there, anon!

Of course you can, my friend. I'm sorry it took so long! But I actually feel like this turned out pretty okay? It's definitely fluffy at any rate. And what can I say, I love Mammon. I still don't know what it is about him.

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Mammon

Warnings: none

Everyone knows that Mammon is down bad for you. Even though he tries to play it off, he can't truly hide it from anyone. He will bluster and try to maintain his cool guy persona, but the reality is that no one is fooled. And the minute you're alone with him, it's like he becomes a different demon.

Mammon is a troublemaker, but he's also fun. When you first meet him, he's always scheming to find ways to make some fast Grimm. But as time goes on, he starts scheming about the best ways to make you smile. He comes up with some elaborate date ideas, taking you places that he thinks will impress you, constantly trying to outdo himself.

Despite this, he also enjoys a simple hang out. He'll take you in his car and just drive around the Devildom. He surprises you by stopping somewhere remote with a beautiful view of the city and the stars. Any time he wants you to himself, away from the chaos of his brothers, he asks if you want to go for a spin. You know this eventually leads to steamy make out sessions on the car hood because Mammon has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

He's overprotective sometimes, but it makes you feel safe so you don't mind. If he ever feels like you're threatened in any way, he will immediately get between you and whatever the danger is. You have to talk him down occasionally, when a perceived insult from someone makes him start throwing punches.

Mammon likes to touch you. He needs the physical reassurance of your presence. He's always seeking out your hand or putting his arm around your shoulders. Even just sitting close to you is enough, your legs pressed together. If he can have his arms around you, he will. In quiet moments, when you're alone, he'll hold you as close as he can. He'll bury his face in your neck, taking in the feel of you, his grip almost desperate like he won't survive if he ever lets go.

It's at those times when he also finds he can't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. Words that he would never say where anyone else could hear. Words that he's kept bottled up for too long. Words that when he finally says them, he realizes he needs you to hear them. You listen and it's like stream of consciousness, almost incoherent, but there's no question that every word is about how much he loves you. About how important you are to him. About how he can't stand being apart from you.

He might even apologize. He knows it's his greed that makes him like this, too needy, too clingy, only wanting more. More of your time, more of your attention, more of your touch and your words and your soul - more of you. He might need your reassurance. Please, MC. Please tell him that ya don't mind. You hafta understand what ya do to him.

You do understand. You tell him as much, as often as he needs to hear it. You hold him close when he wants your touch. You stay beside him when he wants your time. You always answer when he calls you, always focus on him when he's with you. It turns out you've fallen just as hard for him as he has for you. Both of you are so lost in each other it starts to feel like nobody else even exists.

In those rare moments when you are apart, you can almost feel that red string of fate tying you together. When you enter a room that he's in, your eyes find him before anything else. And he's always looking right back at you, a bright grin on his face. When you're thinking of him, your D.D.D. will ding with a message where he's just saying hi. When you're in the human world, it feels like the universe is conspiring to bring the two of you back together.

Mammon will take you to parties and buy you expensive gifts that he worked hard to earn the Grimm for. He will make you feel like you've won the jackpot every day of your life. His favorite thing is to hear you laugh and to laugh with you.

He doesn't bother to think about how human you are. He has told you simply that he just wants to love you while you're still with him. Don't worry about the future. Not when he can have you right here, right now, safe in his arms.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #omnb #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfic #om headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #om mammon #obey me mammon x reader #om mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #om mammon x mc #misc cozy comforts #misc writes

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thehistoriccemetery · 9 months ago

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Minthara’s New Dialogue

I’m pissed about Minthara’s new dialogue when Durge chooses to deny Bhaal, and I’m making it everyone problem.

Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.

———————————————————

Minthara stood outside the door to Durge’s new room at the Elfsong Tavern. Up until that night, they’d been sharing the room that now belonged only to Minthara.

It was late, but she’d found herself completely unable to relax. She didn’t sleep, but even her attempts to trance were only filled with regret of what had happened the previous day. Durge, lying dead on an alter of Bhaal before her. The rage that clawed its way up her throat. The way that rage shot out of her when Durge’s body had come back to life.

Her words had been cruel; hypocritical, even. But even that did not explain the regret and remorse that plagued her now. She didn’t know why, but it possessed her entire being. She was able to think of nothing else but that moment, played over and over in her mind.

She had never been one to hand out apologies. Even when she knew she was in the wrong she never sought to “make it right”. Why should she care if someone was pissed with her? Everyone in her life had been disposable. Everyone except Durge.

That is why, she supposed, she had come in the dead of night to darken her former lover’s doorstep.

She lightly tapped the door with two knuckles before cracking it open to checking to see if Durge was still awake.

They were, as she suspected they would be. Sleep was a rarity for them even on the best of days. Minthara stepped into the room without awaiting further invitation.

“What do you want? Have you come to berate me further?” The words came like a spit of acid. “Perhaps you have come to cull the weakest soldier from your ranks. Well I think I’ve had quite enough of your commentary for one day. Leave me.”

Minthara stood, rigid and unmoving. She has expected nothing short of fury from Durge, and yet she was still taken off guard.

“I have come to offer an apology,” she swallowed. “My behavior today was unacceptable, regardless of the circumstances and for that I apologize.”

Durge laughed. “When Scratch gets into the camp supplies and eats all the salami, it is ‘unacceptable behavior.’ What you have done to today is nothing short of monstrous.”

Minthara shifted slightly. She didn’t have a response prepared.

Durge broke the silence. “I thought you, of all people would understand. A deserter of both the spider queen and the absolute who found her power in godlessness. A lost child of House Baenre, the most powerful house in the underdark. And yet you see fit to lecture me about inheritance and power that I failed to collect at the cost of my own freedom. I thought maybe after all the nights you spent with me, sobbing against my urge to spill your blood you might understand why I must be rid of him. But I see now you’d rather have me a powerful slave than as I am.”

The room was silent again. Durge did not look at her, settling instead for continuing to arrange the room that would now belong to them alone.

“You know, perhaps if it had just been an unjustified outburst, I could have forgiven you. I could have looked past the hypocrisy, the accusations that defying my father made weak and unworthy,” they spoke again. “Perhaps if you had only called me stupid and weak, we could be allies once more. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? You couldn’t just insult what you perceived to be a lack of power, you had to make me feel used. As if this entire relationship was purely a tactical ruse.”

Minthara’s mouth worked faster than her mind. Before she could even think it through she blurted, “even now you cannot deny what a powerful force we were together.”

The words made Tav snap their head around to look Minthara in the eyes. “Don’t you dare try and dismiss my feelings with talk of strategy. I will not deny I was that I was drawn to you for the same reason you were drawn to me: because I thought you a powerful ally. But I do not share my bed with people just because they are ‘powerful allies.’ I do not learn about their favorite dishes and go out of my way to gather rare ingredients. I do not black out my own windows just so our home can be an oasis of darkness in this all too bright world. I do not rub their back and whisper sweet words to them as I hold them through nightmares. And I sure as hell don’t risk my own life in 1 on 1 duels with my own sister just for the sliver of hope that they could walk through this world a little less scared!” Durge’s eyes brimmed with tears and their bottom lip quivered. “You were so much more than a ‘powerful ally’ to me, Minthara. I did not love you because you were a matron of house Baenre. I did not love you because you were on the council of the dead three. I did not love you for the power I sought to gain from you. I loved you because you were my Minthara. My love for you may not have been a force that would save the world, but it did not make it less real or important. Power is not the only thing worth having. I would have gladly died by your side if it meant I could do so knowing that you loved me as I have loved you. If death was the only place we could be together, my dedication to you would not have faltered.”

Minthara stood in shock. She couldn’t not bring herself to move for fear that she may collapse onto the floor in a pathetic pile of tears.

“You will go to bed alone tonight, the bed we once shared, and you will sleep by yourself. And when you long for the comforts of home, you will not wake to find arrangements of mushrooms at your bedside. When forgotten moments of the past creep into your mind, and you reach for someone to hold you, you will find nothing but empty air. You will be alone and you will find it is not my ‘power’ that you truly miss.”

#I know deep in my heart she loves durge regardless of their choices #I’m gonna stay pissed about it #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 minthara #minthara #minthara x tav #minthara x durge #bg3 durge #durge #dark urge #bg3 dark urge #minthara baenre #minthara x dark urge #bg3 spoilers

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stale-trash · 3 months ago

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It's Albedo's birthday, and it is Friday the 13th....allow me to humbly suggest creepy Albedo on this blessed day

cw: yandere, voyeurism

GN reader!

A/N: was in a bit of a rush to put this out on time so uh ignore anything that makes no sense (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

I interpret Albedo as rather reserved emotionally. He isn't unfeeling, he just doesn't share much of what he is feeling to those not closest to him. Unless you can perfectly analyze his mannerisms, you wouldn't even know that he's upset or happy or troubled unless he explicitly tells you.

Most wouldn't call Albedo cold though; mysterious is their adjective of choice. He is holed up in his lab, conducting experiments day in, day out like any genius of his stature should.

That's why most give him some grace when he inadvertently insults them with that pleasant voice of his. You can't fault the guy, he spends most of his time in the middle of nowhere - it'd be weirder if he did remember how to properly socialize.

Albedo isn't a fool, he is acutely aware of how he is perceived. He doesn't bother changing it because it's convenient for him.

Especially when it comes to pursuing you.

He can observe you to his heart's content without consequence. From staring unblinkingly at you whenever you run into each other to suddenly noting down your responses, there is little stopping him from treating you like an especially fascinating specimen. Whenever he toes your bottom line too much, all you need is a bashful apology and an empty promise to break the "bad habit".

You get used to it, just like everyone else in Mondstadt. Yet, you can't shake this feeling of...wrongness about him. His stare isn't that one of innocent curiosity but one that burns. It's a stare you can feel from miles away with how it burrows beneath your skin, demanding to know every single thing about you.

It's a stare that desires to strip you bare.

Once you notice it, you can feel it whenever you're alone. It's as if there are thousands of those cerulean eyes trained on you. Sometimes, the sensation vanishes as fast as it arrived, and other times, it follows you for hours. It doesn't matter if you are in the safety of your home - curtains firmly drawn, windows bolted shut, and doors triple locked - or are out and about, it always finds you.

It somehow gets worse whenever you attempt to undress. You can feel it increase in intensity as if encouraging you to continue. You can feel it roaming your skin like a thousand hands. You can feel it memorize every single feature and meticulously transfer it to paper for your viewing displeasure.

You don't know what's worse: the crime, knowing the perpetrator, or the perpetrator knowing you know.

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milla984 · 1 year ago

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A Million Reasons

Summary: after a phone call from Penelope, Reader teases Spencer about a potential love interest and things don’t go exactly as planned.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff with a little angst

TW/CW: a little bit of angst, brief mentions of food, self-doubt, mentions of anxiety, kissing

Word Count: 1.2k

Thank you @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read this!

The following work is my entry for @andiebeaword's 3,000 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge (prompt n. 12) and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

Spencer scooped out of the paper cup what was left of his ice cream before he finished recounting the events leading to the arrest of the unsub the entire BAU team had been successfully tracking down in Seattle during the past few days.

“He’ll be charged with ten counts of murder, one attempted murder, and unlawful possession of multiple weapons. He’s facing ten life sentences without parole.”

“Way to go, Justice League!” you cheered, enthusiastic.

He tucked his hair behind his ear with a cute chuckle. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow so you caught a glimpse of his wristwatch reflecting the light of a lamp post standing along the edge of the walking path; from the bench you were both sitting on you could see the illuminated dome of the US Capitol rising up against the dark mid-summer sky.

Despite being within walking distance of a major street in the southwest quadrant of Washington, the park was quiet and uncrowded and the nearby gelato shop was one of Spencer’s favorites.

You took the last sip of your drink, acting very casual. “And that’s all that happened?”

He shrugged, unsure about which crucial information could have been missing from his story since he was under strict instructions not to fill you in on the most gruesome details of the cases he’d worked.

“Uhm, graphic descriptions of tortures and mutilations are not—”

“I’m talking about a certain homicide detective… the one you gave your number to…?” you explained and his jaw dropped instantly.

“What?!”

You nudged at him with your elbow. “Garcia called me from the Original Starbucks in Pike Place. I couldn’t tell if the hype was about your new admirer or being there.”

“I don't understand how this is such a big deal!” he blurted out in a high-pitched voice. “She showed an interest in what we do so I gave her my card.”

No profiling skills were required to detect his firm intention to avoid discussing the matter, yet the words came out of your mouth like a river in spate.

“Any chance it wasn’t only a professional interest?”

The way Spencer looked at you, disappointed and hurt, hit you worse than a punch in the liver.

“What’s with you, guys?! Are– are you all so invested in my personal life because you’re convinced I’m chronically unable to have one without your help?” he snapped, something you’d never seen him do.

“I’m s—” you tried to reply, even though he was still too angry to let you apologize and cut you off again.

“Or maybe it’s that I’m no Derek Morgan, so why would someone even notice I exist, right?”

“Seriously?! An IQ of 187 and this is the best inference you can come up with?” you snorted, upset by the subtle insult he’d thrown at you - even if you had to admit you deserved it.

His brows furrowed. “Then why did you bring this up?”

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry. I truly am,” you admitted, “and the Derek Morgan type is not the one I’d go for, just so you know. I don’t think that people hitting on you is funny or weird, it’s… I’m just surprised it doesn’t happen more often. There, I said it.”

He remained silent for a while, quite aware that Penelope’s inability to keep her mouth shut generated from genuine excitement about what she perceived as good news; sharing such personal information with you meant you had been put to the test over and over and, in the end, deemed worthy of her trust.

The peaceful atmosphere around you served as an amplifier for the sound of splashing water and Spencer indicated the fountain at the center of the large, round basin in front of you with a jerk of his head.

“I read a book about the architectural history of D.C. on the way back. This piece was created for the 1876 Centennial International Exhibition in Philadelphia, the US Congress acquired it in 1877 and placed it at the base of Capitol Hill. It was dismantled in 1926, then it remained in storage until 1932 when they moved it here.”

The pedestal held three twin iron-casted sea nymphs wearing wet tunics, with their arms raised above their heads to support a shallow vasque; on top was a group of kneeling child tritons, and the base was decorated with turtle-like aquatic creatures.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled.

The fact he’d for sure started and finished said book in less than fifteen minutes was among the 999.999 entries in your list of reasons to crush over SSA Reid. And so were his three PhDs, his crooked ties, his passion for Star Wars, chess and Halloween.

“I don’t talk much about my private life. Especially outside of work,” he confessed after a pause. “A lot of times I have a hard time discussing personal issues—”

“Spencer… you know you don’t owe me an explanation, right?” you rushed to clarify.

He nodded and you did the same in response, to confirm you had no intention of pressuring him into opening up if he felt uncomfortable yet you were also ready to listen to anything he had to say; even in dim light, you could see the sadness veiling his beautiful hazel eyes.

“Garcia was being Garcia, with her ‘look at the world through rose-colored glasses’ scenarios. I gave my card to a homicide detective to discuss behavioral sciences, it was just what it sounds like. But I understand where she’s coming from, I never told her…”

Your whole body tensed up, courtesy of a rush of anxiety triggered by the possibility of him being already involved with someone he had never mentioned, not even to his closest friends; you wondered if he could hear the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Luckily for you, Spencer didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m trying to come to terms with something I’ve been feeling, for weeks now. And I’m worried, because of what happened in the past and I can’t let go of…” his voice broke a little, so he swallowed. “Deep down I’m afraid I'm not the type of person who gets to live out happily ever after.”

Refraining from hugging him on the spot and holding him close to your heart had gotten increasingly difficult lately, so you settled for a peck on his temple in a clumsy attempt at a comforting gesture.

You feared the worst when he looked at you for a moment that seemed to last forever; you certainly didn’t expect him to lean forward to cup your face in his hands - big hands. With slender, elegant fingers he tenderly brushed over your cheeks.

You both held your breath, waiting for the distance between you to vanish until your foreheads touched and the tips of your noses rubbed together.

“... are we really doing this?!” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

You smiled. “Don’t make me wait for another six months.”

Spencer squinted, an indication he was browsing countless data stored in his memory, then he eventually pinpointed the exact moment you fell for him and squeaked in surprise.

“Christm—”

You pressed your palm on the nape of his neck, guiding his lips over yours for what you both had been longing for.

Reason number 1.000.000: Dr. Reid was one hell of a kisser.

@thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #friends to lovers #mutual pining #idiots in love #my gifs #milla writes stuff #andies3kwritingcelebration #for the first time i don't hate the title!#fun fact: the setting for this one is a real place in d.c.

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lindentea · 6 months ago

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Analysis re: Full Moon and conflict resolution (or not)... spoilers ahead.

The fact that we got an episode showing a healthy, supportive, and-- most importantly-- communicative relationship (Fizz and Ozzie), immediately followed by an episode showing a very unhealthy and very non-communicative relationship (Blitzø and Stolas)... yeahhhh that really stood out to me.

(Sidenote: It absolutely warms my heart that Fizz is so much happier and healthier now!! And he and Blitz have a warm and affectionate friendship again!!! aaaaaaaa!!!)

I'm wondering if Apology Tour will start with Blitz talking to Fizz and/or Moxxie, since Blitz has actually opened up to both of them and apologized to/reconciled with them (he explicitly apologizes to Fizz in Oops and indirectly apologizes to Moxxie in Truth Seekers). I also find it interesting that both of those above apologies/reconciliations started with a fight or conflict.

In Moxxie's case, the truth gas initiates their conflict. They spill their guts to each other in person first, then their insecurities are pulled right out in the open for them in their individual hallucinations. When they come to, they have a quiet heart-to-heart.

In Fizz's case, it starts first at Ozzie's as a verbal conflict, and then in Oops it continues with taunts that escalate into a physical fight (when they are captured by Striker). What I particularly noted about their argument during the later shootout is that even though they start out yelling at each other in anger, they gradually clarify facts and express their perspectives and feelings, until the climax of "I DID CARE!!" (...which always makes me cry btw). And then Blitz actually says the words "I'm sorry." And although he admits/explains that it was an accident, he doesn't try to make any excuses or lay the blame anywhere else. That is huge for him!!

Back to Full Moon... When Blitz starts yelling and angrily shouts his feelings (however rational or irrational they are, however hurtfully they are phrased), he is trying to gain any kind of control over the conversation. He is trying to have a conversation at all. And fighting about it (whether physically or verbally) might be the only way he knows how to initiate that. Someone else on here noted that fighting seems to be a sort of default(...? not sure how to phrase that) way of resolving conflict in imp culture-- as we see with Millie and Sallie May in their short.

And, quite obviously, but very importantly.... Stolas is not an imp. He isn't familiar with that form of conflict resolution, nor that form of communication. At all. All he knows is Stella screaming at him and insulting him.

Stolas shuts down at the end of Full Moon because Blitz's screaming and insults trigger him after of all those years of Stella's abuse (Stolas' response to which is entirely valid and understandable). Both Stolas and Blitz perceive the other's response as a rejection, both of them are triggered by the other's response. It was depicted in an intensely realistic way-- hurt people hurt people-- people speaking completely different languages with their very different traumas and trauma responses, tbh. Neither of them is more wrong than the other. It's a heart-wrenchingly accurate display of traumatized people who care about each other, yet unintentionally hurt each other... buhhhhhhhhh FEELINGS.

#helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss #stolitz #stolitz full moon #helluva boss full moon #helluva boss truth seekers #blitzø #fizzarolli #moxxie #helluva boss oops #helluva boss analysis

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shieldofiron · 7 months ago

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When I first joined this fandom in late 2022, I had some traction with some stories. And some people reached out to see if I wanted to join a discord server that was owned by a person who at the time had over 1000 followers and posted quite frequently. She was popular, though she presented herself as much more popular than she was. Let’s call her Z.

I did not connect with everyone there, in fact I was uncomfortable for reasons I will go into in a moment, but there were some people I really did connect with, and I stayed to be close to them. And then one day, my closest friend there was kicked out of the space with little to no explanation. He begged the mods and Z, formerly his close friends, and was blocked. I combed the server, but I couldn’t find anything that he did that in my opinion was worth kicking him out. Then he began losing followers and receiving many hurtful and upsetting anons on his tumblr. Angry, because I suspected they had something to do with it, I stopped posting in there and later left. I was disgusted that this was going on and they were acting to my face like it wasn’t, and still sucking up to me about my stories. He said he was worried about me believing him, believing that whatever he did, he didn’t understand what it was. But having witnessed Z’s behavior in her server I had no problem believing it was her and her friends.

Z used to find fanfiction or art of ships that she didn’t like, and @ everyone in the server to come look at it, despite knowing it was extremely distressing for some members. If you protested that you had no issue with these ships in fiction but that maybe you didn’t want to see that on a Tuesday at work in the general chat, Z and her closest friends would harass you (me) to say that it was bad, and evil. She often called for people to unfollow these artists, or block users who she had found and showed to us without any participation on our part. Despite this she frequently became interested in dead dove subject matter, but it was always ok when she did it. Boundaries did not exist to her, except for the boundaries of her taste and how she thought the world should be. Z would routinely make jokes about sensitive subjects like trans rights, and let's just say it felt like it wasn’t her place. But don’t worry, Z would say, I have friends who are [joke she had made] [from country she had insulted] so it’s fine. There’s only so many times you can hear a joke like that and not wonder why it’s being made over and over. If you were offended, everything was a joke, or there was something you didn’t understand.

This server was a deeply uncomfortable space. Many times I felt harassed over my politics, over my opinions in fiction, and it was often easier to just swallow this. When I met my friends there, they showed courage standing up for themselves and I am so glad that I found them. With them, my experiences of this fandom lightened enormously. Z and her friends had made me so paralyzed, paranoid and unhappy. I had been afraid to even talk about my race however tangentially. I was afraid to make posts against anti behavior, because they had so twisted the way I thought the Billy fandom would perceive them. Thankfully I do not think that the majority of the fandom agrees with her views.

Z apparently has been presenting harassing my friend as a misunderstanding. Perhaps the misunderstanding is that she thinks any of this is harmless. Misunderstandings can be overcome, discussed, apologized for. If someone is confused, you can explain, you can be civil. There was no discussion.

Z made no effort, except to further talk about him and others behind their backs. She never reached out to clear anything up at any time. Her excuses when she made them were frankly shocking. And she never explained to me why my friend was so dangerous, but hid behind fake apologies and more popular friends, lying to my face like things were all good. My friend made a post when he felt safe with her username and the username of another person who harassed him. My friends that I kept from that server are the bravest people I know who understand that reputation means nothing if you can’t look at your own actions with conviction. And Z went away for a time.

Until I earlier this year, I was invited to a very large Billy server. Immediately I was confused by a user I had seemingly never seen before who had me blocked. It was Z, with a new name. She had me blocked until she saw me interacting positively with a very popular artist. Then I somehow became unblocked. Which was very interesting. I came to find that she was very close friends with them or tried to be. She appeared to be very close with the owner of the server too.

I was obviously wary but who knows. People can change. I really believe that. Unfortunately I do not believe that she has changed yet.

All of her old behavior was back as was my paranoia and fear. And it appeared that, emboldened by her friendship with the owner of the server and others, she felt safe going even further. Here was finally what she had craved, a large platform and popularity to continue her previous behavior. I later came to find out that the owner of the server had her own issues with bullying others, twisting the truth, and other, much more serious things. They showed the same character that Z always did, sweet to my face and sour behind everyone’s back. Yet again people said that they worried they wouldn’t be believed. They were afraid of the fandom famous people who were their friends.

Perhaps it’s just me, but if I had been called out in the past for bullying a trans person online I would distance myself from any appearance of transphobia or bullying or lying. Not Z. She in fact announced that she would bully the mods and “everyone” in the server when people joined. I am not paraphrasing, she said he was a bully so often that it was almost comical. She openly said she was an anti when someone confronted her over AGAIN trying to publicly shame authors and create mass unfollowing campaigns. There were no or minimal consequences for this. She would casually bring up the same old jokes and dogwhistles that she used to, uglier with time, and to me pathetically stripped of anything that could have excuse them.

Nobody told me these things. I saw it with my own eyes. But still, somehow, she was the hero, the popular beloved person in every story. I was afraid because she had very powerful friends. Or at least she pretended she did. Because she was friends with a server owner who hurt people I cared about. I am still afraid now. But I’d rather do it afraid for my friends than watch this happen.

I would give up every stupid note on every stupid meme if it meant trans people, and all vulnerable people, felt safe in fandom spaces. I am tired of dishonest communication and trying to play some stupid game I never fucking cared about. If some popular person wants to crush me like a grape for believing my friends, they can go ahead and do it already.

Everybody wants to be liked, everybody wants to be believed. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be liked. But I’m done waiting for people to believe me or like me. I’m done waiting for people to wake up and take a look in the mirror. To explain and to deign themselves to listen. I believe in my friends. I believe my eyes, and I believe in my own convictions. That’s enough for me.

I believe people can change. I hope they do. But I hope they do away from vulnerable people who they can hurt carelessly.

I’m not blocking you. Clean up your own mess.

#fandom wank #but is it tho #harringrove #fandom discourse #applewillowstone #flashwaves #harringrovepolls

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tiredofthehumanlife · 6 months ago

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So we’re all trans?

Barbie dolls: t4t!Jegulus x genderfluid!reader

Word: 3.3k ish

Summary: James and Regulus are nervy to tell you they’re trans while you are nervy to tell them you’re genderfluid and hilarity ensues

Warnings: Lightning McQueen, Shrek, Spiderman, and Peter Pettigrew mentioned, James is a kale freak, I talked like a lot most of which was not necessary, mentions: shots (testosterone), getting vaccinations, cheating, domestic homicide, medieval torture, your experience with genderfluidity(it’s going to be a word for today) might not align with mine but i kept it as vague as possible, a bit of a Disney channel moment but just like ignore the cringe baby it's fine it adds character, you place your hands on your hips but it's not like “you place your tiny baby girl hands on your voluptuous hips in girly frustration” yk so it works for whatever gender you're feeling🩷, insecure feelings in gender identity, everybody is worried the other is going to break up with them bc they’re trans so it's like hypothetical transphobia, you wear pants, jamie used once, yeah i think thats it please read the author’s note i want to cover all my bases to make sure this doesn’t have unintended messages right okay cool

A/n: I'm going to use the small text bc I'm going to be yapping a lot so I apologize to all the bad vision freaks(I can't see two inches in front of my face) right so I just wanted to say that both James and Regulus had medically assisted transitions (that feels like a right phrasing) reg had top surgery, James takes puberty blockers, and they both take T I just wanted to say that you do not have to take anything or do anything to be valid in your trans identity some people can’t afford surgeries and some people don't want them and everybody is valid (except for those people who are like “me when the trans guy with triple d’s gets mad I mess up their pronouns” they can suck my 12-foot long dick) I just wanted to say this because I didn’t want someone to read this and feel like they don’t count because they didn’t follow these two rich boys’ paths okay awesome

request: right here dickhead

James and Regulus have been dating for years. Strangely enough, they had been taking care of each other since day one. It was truly simple, once they moved in together their acts of service quadrupled. Suddenly James was sitting with Regulus on the edge of the bathtub, gently removing his chest tape. Regulus decided chest tape wasn’t enough, and James was reaching the shelves over Regulus’ elbow height for him. James became a supreme master at making soup while Regulus was in recovery from his top surgery. Eventually, Regulus was healed and extremely joyous. He was wandering around the house with his shirt off just for the hell of it. Regulus was prancing down the porch stairs to get the mail in only his James’ plaid pajama pants and cat slippers.

James was lucky enough to have loving accepting parents. He started puberty blockers early on and eventually, he swapped them out for testosterone so he neglected the want and or perceived need for a top surgery. James, after having years of practice, lost his uneasiness towards the injections. Regulus, however, was extremely terrified of needles. As a kid, he was practically breaking Sirius’ hand from his grip when he needed to get his vaccinations. Before he met James, Sirius would do them for him. Now, Regulus would stand in the kitchen covering his eyes with his forearm and turning away as far as he could. James would inject the shot as fast as possible, rewarding Regulus’ bravery with 80 kisses on his cheek and ice cream.

They were out to their friends, but it wasn’t exactly something mentioned frequently. It didn’t really matter all that much. Barty would call you a dickhead no matter what was in your pants. Marlene was similar but her go-to insult was ‘ bitchey-bitch-bitch-stupid-face’, friends only of course. You can’t have that insane unfiltered language out with strangers. Lily loved everyone, closing off every single phone call with ‘I love you’ even if it was customer service.

Peter was similar although instead he thanked people by saying ‘I appreciate you’. He once mentioned how he was working at a restaurant having a horrible day. He was yelled at more than thrice in a row, and he was certain if someone called him one more bad name he’d burst into tears. Then this woman came in, who appeared to have met the first dinosaur, and she was so kind to him. When she left she said ‘Thanks, baby. I appreciate you.’ And he sobbed in the freezer. Peter immediately engraved it into his dictionary. All their friends knew, but it was like knowing their favorite letter; it’s nice to know but that information doesn’t really come into play very frequently.

Then they met you. Regulus had dragged James to the bookstore. James loved going to the bookstore with Regulus. Regulus liked wandering for hours. He liked scanning the backs and summaries inside the front cover. James liked the bookstore mainly because Regulus liked it. He also liked looking through the cookbooks and workout guides. Sometimes when the story was empty he’d head towards the kid section, squeeze himself into one of the tiny plastic chairs, and do the puzzles. Eventually when Regulus would finish looking, a hefty stack in his arms, he’d find James. Usually, James would brag about how ‘those dumbasses’ had nothing on him. He finished eight puzzles in under a minute. Regulus would remind him the puzzles had six pieces each.

That time was different though. James had looked through all the cookbooks, finding one he liked. James looked at a few of the workout books, getting bored when they said something he didn’t agree with. He finished all the puzzles made for toddlers, and yet his boyfriend still wasn’t done. It was odd. So James went on a search for Regulus. He checked the poetry section first, no Regulus. He went to the fantasy next, no dice. James stalked up and down every aisle. His ears perched up at the sound of Regulus’ voice. It was a bit strange, Regulus didn’t usually volunteer to socially interact with anyone. James assumed he got trapped into small talk, rushing to his boyfriend’s rescue.

James found Regulus actually grinning with a stranger. James didn’t even know he could do that. Regulus was holding a book open, letting you lean to look over his shoulder. You both looked more than excited to finally meet somebody you could talk to about your favorite book. The more James looked at you, the more he understood why Regulus was so happy to talk to you. Delectable was a nasty word to use to describe a person so James opted instead for extremely stunning. Eventually with Regulus’ book opinions and James’ cheesy flirting, their couple grew into a throuple.

Your relationship is a little fresh now. In the way that you had no idea what either of their pajamas looked like but you knew exactly where their spoons were. James and Regulus weren’t entirely sure if you would accept them with open arms if they shared every part of them, including their favorite letter. They stayed silent for the most part, letting you stay ignorant just this once.

You were harboring your own skeleton in the closet. You haven’t told them you are genderfluid, and you haven’t told them how many frustrations that caused. You love who you are but for fucks sake could it be just a smidge easier? Your secret was weighing on you. It was all you could think about while you were out with your two amazing boyfriends. If you told them they could disprove and break up with you on the spot. They could also accept you but an overthinking mind never seems to be optimistic.

Your boyfriends seemed to notice your mood change, worried now you might’ve put together a couple of context clues and realized maybe they aren’t cis. What if now you were disgusted by them? James squashed that idea when Regulus voiced it, though it still lingered with him. Regulus knew James was just trying to relieve him of his worries but Regulus still appreciated his attempt.

Finally, the camel’s back broke and you were heading straight to their shared home. It was edging towards their bedtime the sun had set a couple of hours ago, fully relying on their warm lamps. They both had changed into their matching pajamas; plaid pants and Spiderman t-shirts. Regulus had slippers with tiny cat ears on the top and little cat faces on them. James however had Lighting McQueen slippers that lit up when he took a step. They were cute when he first got them but the novelty wore off rather quickly and now Regulus complains that James’ shoes give him a headache. Regulus settled into the barstool behind the kitchen counter with his reward ice cream. James leaned against the counter across from him, slurping very loudly on his smoothie. James jutted it out to Regulus.

“Want some?” Regulus looked up at James with a raised eyebrow.

“James, if I ever say I want some of your kale and banana smoothie, I give you full permission to assassinate me. Preferably quickly.” James pouted, pointing the lip of his glass back towards himself. Regulus rolled his eyes and took another bite of his ice cream.

“You could’ve just said no, also what did we say about suicide jokes?” James said, pointing over his shoulder at the small whiteboard on the fridge that said ‘6 days without a suicide joke’ in James’ handwriting. Regulus dropped his spoon back into his bowl, feeling particularly peeved at the unjust accusation.

“No, no. That’s not suicide, that's homicide. Two entirely different things. You can’t dock my streak just because you didn’t find the joke funny.” Regulus stuck his finger at James. James pushed Regulus’ finger away, leaning forward to steal a kiss from him. James pulled away, taking another sip of his smoothie as Regulus took another spoonful.

“No offense, babe, but I’m not sure if I know anyone who would find domestic homicide funny,” James added, with his straw still in his mouth. Regulus scoffed.

“That’s because you have lame friends,” James’ jaw dropped in offense at Regulus’ words. “Barty would find it hilarious, and Dorcas would find it mildly amusing.” Regulus retorted, grinning like he won their game. James pressed his lips together in disapproval. As he was opening his mouth to continue the verbal play fight, a knock on their door interrupted him. They both shared a look of confusion. James shrugged, leaving his smoothie on the counter to get to the door.

“See but Barty finds The Pear of Anguish funny,” James argued, his slippers lighting up on his way to the door.

“Barty’s a masochist, I’m not sure what you were expecting when you took him to that museum,” Regulus muttered into his bowl as James peered out the peephole. James hummed in a confused tone, opening the door to find you. You were not in pajamas and you looked rather stressed.

“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” James asked, worry lacing his words. He moved back letting you step into their foyer. Regulus looked up at James’ words. He doesn’t usually greet the door-to-door salesman like that. Regulus quietly joined you two at the door, he understood James’ greeting now but didn’t understand why you were visiting them looking so frazzled. You looked them both up and down, slightly pausing at James’ shoes. You shrugged your coat off, placing it on their coat rack. James found it at a thrift store and Regulus repainted it.

“You two look dashing.” You muttered as you straightened your shirt. Regulus glanced down at his pajamas, suddenly feeling slightly judged. He crossed his arms over the very large print of Spiderman.

“James picked it out,” Regulus whispered, trying to ignore the stinging on his cheeks. James’ chest puffed out, taking a wider stance and pulling at the end of his shirt so you can see the picture better.

“Aren’t we cute?” James said, confidence making him smile brighter. You nodded.

“Yeah, gotta love Spiderman.” You squished your lips together. Even with your words seeming relaxed your nerves were spreading to Regulus. James seemed to taste the uneasiness in the air.

“Are you alright? If this was planned I would’ve gotten you a shirt.” James reached over, rubbing Regulus’ shoulder to give him silent support. You nodded, staring at the ground to take in a deep breath.

“Right yeah. Sorry to drop in on you guys, but I think we need to talk.” You said, giving yourself a breath to steady yourself. Regulus felt his stomach jump into his throat. It felt tighter now, his heartbeat reaching his ears. Regulus glanced over to James, finding he was already looking. James gave him a tiny smile that Regulus could tell was forced.

“Yeah absolutely.” James brightly said, gesturing towards the living room. You lead the way. Regulus moved his hands to the back of his neck, trying to soothe himself. James noticed, grabbing both of Regulus’ shoulders to rub them, waddling behind Regulus. James kissed Regulus on his temple. Regulus reminded himself that even if what he thought was happening was happening, he’d still have James in the end.

Regulus and James settled on the couch, holding onto each other for emotional support. You started pacing in front of them, walking from one end of James’ favorite rug to the other. James intertwined his fingers with Regulus’, letting Regulus fiddle with them in his lap. It was better than biting his nails. ‘I should get a whiteboard for nail biting’ James thought to himself before zoning back in on your rapid pacing. Regulus’ eyes were following you with panic behind his head movements. Your anxiety was dripping out through your hands, slapping them together over and over again. James was starting to worry that Regulus would get hypnotized moving his eyes back and forth like that.

“You know, darling. I learned the hard way that anxious thoughts are like burps; better out than in.” James offered, hoping it would soothe you a little. You paused your pacing behind the coffee table, turning to face James.

“Did you just quote Shrek?” James clenched his jaw, feeling caught. James saw Regulus turning his head slowly to look at him out of the corner of his eye. James let out a nervous and breathy chuckle.

“It’s good advice,” James muttered, slipping further down the couch. You sighed and faced them both. You held your hands behind your back. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Right okay so I need to come clean to you two, I’ve been hiding something for a while now. It’s been stressing me out a lot and I think I would rather risk our relationship than have to go through this alone.” Regulus squeezed James’ hands tighter. James had flashbacks to Regulus getting a shot at the doctor's office.

“Is there another person?” Regulus abruptly said, cutting into your steady breathing time. You looked up at him shocked, quickly shaking your head.

“Oh, no, no, no. No. I would never do that. I would never cheat on you guys.” You quickly rushed out, like Regulus might implode if you didn’t get it out fast enough. James moved to make a fast joke, pushing a small bit of the thick tension out the door with a broom.

“I haven’t been cheating. Have you, Reg?” James asked with a pained grin. Regulus knew his tactics, joining in to shove some of his anxiety behind a potted plant.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Regulus felt himself let out a strained laugh that came out more like a cat hacking up a hairball. You looked at them both with a worried look. Regulus wanted to settle your nerves, giving you his shining smile. Which was just him showing his teeth with dead eyes. You took a step back, holding both your hands up.

“Okay well don’t do that.” You whispered. Regulus relaxed his face. You shivered, shaking out your worries through your hands.

“I’m just going to say it. It’s a lot of words so maybe just sit quietly and let me spill.” You looked up at them both for their agreement. James sat up straighter, giving you all of his attention. Regulus kept his wide, slightly unsettling, eyes on you. You gave them both an awkward smile.

“I’m genderfluid. Which if you don’t know means my gender kind of flows through like all of them. I’m kind of worried about telling you this because I’m not entirely sure if you’ll still think of me the same.” Your voice cracked. You let out a breathy chuckle wagging your finger towards the ground.

“Oh you cheeky mother fucker, pull it together.” You whispered to yourself. You pushed your shoulders back, speaking again. “And it’s just a little frustrating and confusing because the whole time I’m just second-guessing myself. I just feel like no matter what I do I’m never a hundred percent confident in myself. It’s like I’m sitting there wondering-“

“wondering if you’re valid or if you made it all up?” Regulus asked, somehow making his eyes wider. You looked away from your fiddling hands to stare at him quizzically. You whispered the tiniest agreeance, James was shocked he still heard it. James decided to speak up and comfort your frustrations.

“It’s alright that you feel that way, darling. You’re entirely valid. We’ll love you no matter what, unless it’s murder-“

“Well-“

”No matter what. I want you to be your happiest, whether that be doing naked cartwheels in the backyard or making a fort under the kitchen table. Man, woman, something else, a nice mixture of both, I’m here for you. Confusion and frustration happen all the time it's alright. I think it’s important to just make sure you do whatever makes you happiest for that moment or day.” James explained. As he talked Regulus watched your shoulders sink with relaxation. Your anxious eyebrows slowly retreated back to their resting place, the worry lines on your forehead dissapeared again. James let out his own sigh, glad he got to relax his partner again.

“And on a different note, I’m trans myself so I support you on extreme levels,” James added, giving you a bright smile. Regulus scoffed next to him.

“Oh, you’re trans? Not we’re trans?” James clutched his pearls, reeling back to look at Regulus.

“Well, I’m not going to come out for you. I don’t know if you’re comfortable doing that. It’s not my story to tell.” James said, shaking his head at Regulus. Regulus muttered a few choice words at James under his breath as he turned back to you. You looked to have a million math problems in your head.

“So if we could just wrap back around, you’re both trans?” Regulus and James nodded at your question in sync. You sighed, looking around the living room. You placed your hands on your hips in exasperation.

“Just to clear everything up for those at home, I’ve walking around for weeks anxious up the wazoo for absolutely no reason?” Regulus and James glanced at each other.

“yeah.”

“it appears that way, yes.” Regulus watched you groan and drop your head in your hands.

“To throw my two cents in, it’s totally valid to feel a little discombobulated. Gender is hard and often it’s difficult to figure out what you’re truly feeling, it took me years to realize I wasn't nonbinary. It’s entirely okay that you feel like this.” Regulus said, releasing James’ hand from his grip. James’ shook his hand out, finally getting feeling back in his fingers. You gave Regulus a small smile.

“Regulus, love of my life, can I please eat your face?” Regulus smiled at you, nodding his head. You quickly made your way around the coffee table to lightly peck Regulus’ lips. You moved past Regulus to kiss James as well. You squeezed yourself between the two of them. Regulus rested his head on your shoulder, moving your hand to play with in his lap. James pressed himself against you, smushing his cheek against yours.

“I'm the love of your life too, right?” James asked, his words rolling onto your cheek. You hummed.

“Yes, Jamie.” Regulus interrupted your sweet moment.

“James, do me a favor and go get my ice cream.” James let out a loud gasp, jumping out of his seat and jogging towards the kitchen.

“My smoothie!” You wrapped your arms around Regulus, kissing his temple.

“I wasn’t insulting your shirt before, by the way.” You whispered into his hair. Regulus nodded against your arm.

“Is his smoothie worthy of stealing?” You muttered as quietly as you could so James didn’t hear you. Regulus let out a snort.

“Oh fuck no.” Regulus said before adding “I’ll give you a few bites of my ice cream.” You gasped, smacking a kiss to the apple of his cheek.

“You’re so kind.” Regulus groaned at your words.

“Not really being kind. It’s my reward for being brave, as James said. And I know that was probably scary for you so technically speaking you do deserve some of it. It has nothing to do with me it's just like the rules.” Regulus said, trying to cover up that he might actually have a heart.

“Right, the rules.” Regulus hummed. James soon returned with his smoothie and shockingly two bowls of ice cream. He handed one to you and one to Regulus. You three sat on the couch as you finished your sweet treats and smoothie. Even though technically speaking your reward was already given to you, Regulus’ spoon would randomly stick out toward you. You thanked Regulus with a peck on his cheek after each spoonful. Eventually, when his bowl was empty your spoon would jut out towards him, he was quite brave coming out to you today. James seemed to notice the food sharing, offering up a sip of his smoothie. You and Regulus both grimaced at him in sync before turning back to your bowl.

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