#marriage of convenience even!

[stingrayextraordinaire]

petition to make Disney stop spitting out live-action remakes and give us what we really want: a romcom prequel starring Fergus and Elinor of DunBroch

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 8.1

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 8th snippet, part 1. Adar shows Morgoth’s crown to Celebrimbor. The smith has an idea. Adar lets him run with it.

Celebrimbor might not be a natural fighter, but he’ll still find ways to support his allies (especially his husband). It’s so very hard to write anything about this chapter without giving too much away, so I’ll just say – I tried to come up with a plot for this story, got hit with inspiration, and now here we are. I am so curious to see people’s reaction to this one! (And yes, Celebrimbor playing dice is indeed inspired by @plotdesigner’s fic ‚In My Scar Covered Heart‘. :P)

Celebrimbor hadn’t exactly been eager to catch a glimpse of Morgoth’s crown, to be quite honest. Knowing that it somehow still existed in middle earth and was in such close proximity to him was bad enough. If seeing it wouldn’t remind him of the silmaril or his family’s bloody history fighing the original owner of the crown, it surely would remind him of the maiar who had reforged it.

He didn’t have much of a choice however when, during another round of talks, Galadriel had asked – well, goaded – Adar into showing the crown to Elrond. Who, to her credit, had been rather disbelieving of the crown’s continued existence until then.

All three elves had immediately fallen silent and leant away when Adar had walked over to a wooden chest in the corner of the tent, opened it, and used his gauntleted hand to pull out a menacing-looking shape of darkened metal.

He carried the crown as if intending to place it on someone’s head, holding it with both hands and his arms stretched in front of his body as he came back towards them. Only his tight expression revealed that this was not due to reverence. 

It made sense, Celebrimbor thought – especially when Adar told the tale of how he’d been meant to place the crown upon Sauron’s red hair...and had driven it's spikes through the Deceiver’s shoulder and neck instead.

The coronation had been Sauron’s attempt to declare himself Morgoth’s successor; a position that would have placed all the uruk under his yoke. Celebrimbor couldn’t imagine he’d treated the uruk any more kindly than his enemies, so Adar taking the crown to him and ‘killing’ the maiar had likely been an act of desperation. And love.

No wonder Adar regarded the crown with such a complicated mix of emotions.

Adar placed the crown in the middle of the table, then sat back down to continue the conversation. Glancing at his fellow elves, Celebrimbor could tell that it was difficult for them to keep their attention focused on each other’s words instead of the object at first, but after a while, they managed.

The smith, however, found himself staring at it for the rest of the conversation. He registered some of the words – their talk revolved around Gil-Galad and his intention to visit the uruk camp to speak with Adar directly –, but for the most part, Celebrimbor focused on the crown and its design.

It did indeed look pointy enough to puncture flesh with, if handled with that intention. He could almost imagine how it must have gone – Adar holding up the crown, turning it around to thrust it into Sauron’s shoulder.

A dangerous position to strike from, though, as Adar would have had to leave his middle completely unprotected. But then again, Sauron had left himself open to injury as well. It made Celebrimbor question what their prior relationship might have been like, as both of them had served Morgoth...willingly or unwillingly. And Adar made it sound as if he knew Sauron quite well, to the point that he understood how his mind worked. 

Though it had not made him any less prone to the maiar’s scheming than Galadriel and Celebrimbor had been, the latter silently thought to himself.

He felt an urge to ask the uruk about these things; Adar’s past was still largely shrouded in mystery. But the uruk had avoided any clever attempts of Elrond and more direct goading from Galadriel to reveal more of himself so far, and only offered whatever information he deemed neccessary to defeat their common enemy. Nothing more.

And so Celebrimbor bit his tongue, and settled on waiting (hoping) for a time when Adar might be inclined to share more about this part of himself of his own volition.

The smith’s mind was drawn back to the crown then. It looked to be made of iron, though unusually dark. He tried to parse how it had been made, with what tools and in what conditions, whether any traces of the silmaril or Morgoth had seeped into the metal and still remained there.

He was so consumed with his musings that he startled slightly when Galadriel, Elrond and Adar stood up from the table - their current round of talks had come to an end. Or, at least a pause, it seemed. As Celebrimbor slowly got up, Elrond spoke. "We will bring this proposal to High King Gil-Galad," he looked at Galadriel to indicate he meant the both of them. "If he agrees, he will accompany us into your camp when we return."

"Though, be aware that the king will not come here unarmed, or unguarded," the peredhel added. But it wasn’t said as a threat. It actually rather sounded as if Elrond was just relaying a fact that Adar should just take into consideration.

This, too, was a recent change. It seemed that Elrond was slowly opening himself up to the idea that the elves would indeed join forces with Adar’s army and march on Eregion together.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that, for a few days now, Adar had permitted Galadriel to leave the uruk camp and accompany the herald back on his way to the high king. Which she had initially taken as a way for Adar to test whether or not she would leave Celebrimbor unprotected amidst an army of enemies. But it turned out to be a show of trust instead - that she would help Elrond argue his case, and then come back to spend time with her friend again.

An arrangement that had worked out quite well, in fact; Galadriel had been reluctant to leave at first, but after some reassurance from Celebrimbor, she had. Only for a short while at first, and she had barely gone far enough to disappear from the sight of the guards around the camp, after which she had returned in a hurry.

It had taken a second and a third attempt until she left for multiple hours and came back at a leisurely pace, skeptical but ultimately pleased when she found that Celebrimbor where she’d left him, playing a simple game of dice with Glûg and another uruk guard.

After that, she'd been fine with leaving Celebrimbor and Adar for even longer periods of time, and whenever she returned and found them sharing a meal or conversing, a small smirk stole itself onto her face for reasons Celebrimbor could not quite parse yet.

Adar acknowledged the herald’s words with a humm. "Not unreasonable. Be aware, then, that I will not be unarmed or unguarded, either." This, too, was just presented as a simple fact. Celebrimbor couldn’t help but feel proud of how far they all had already come since the negotiations started.

"Not unreasonable, either," Elrond replied and actually quirked up his lips for a moment. While Adar didn’t return the gesture with a smile of his own, he tilted his head at the herald in a show of acknowledgement.

Elrond and Galadriel were quick to depart afterwards; they wanted to talk to their king, and if Ereinion indeed intended to come to Adar’s camp, preparations would have to be made. The two elves made sure to thank Adar for the food and drink they had received, and spent a moment to say their – temporary – goodbyes to Celebrimbor.

Once they had left, the smith sat back in his chair. "That went quite well," he judged as he gave Adar a smile of elation. "I think we might indeed be close to a treaty now, with the high king willing to walk into the camp to negotiate with you directly."

Of course, talks with Gil-Galad would surely pose their own difficulties. He had neither the fiery temper of Galadriel nor the biting sarcasm Elrond employed at times, but he was certainly not shy to state his own objections, would not back down in the face of adversity, and held himself with the grace and self-assured air – well, pride – befitting a king. Qualities that were beneficial for rulership, but which might clash with Adar’s own stubbornness and sense of authority during the coming talks.

Celebrimbor decided he would cross that bridge when they came to it.

"It did," Adar agreed, picked up his goblet and took a sip from it. He notably hadn’t sat down at the table again, despite the fact that there was still a half-unfinished meal on his plate. Perhaps he needed to walk off the tension. Celebrimbor had certainly seen him pace their tent like a wolf after the first few negotiations, agitated even as he refused to elaborate on the reasons why, before he stormed off to meet with his lieutenants.

The smith could usually guess the reasons nonetheless, anyways.

"You have been quite focused on that thing," the uruk stated, apropos of nothing. When Celebrimbor raised his eyebrows in question, Adar’s eyes briefly settled on the crown before the turned back to the smith. "Is it because of the gemstones it once held?"

Celebrimbor quickly shook his head, "No, I- it’s not that," his gaze wandered back to the object in question, as if drawn there by something not of his own will. "I was actually considering what it might be made of. Or how it was made."

A light snort, and Adar emptied his goblet before he went to pour himself another drink. Water, this time, instead of wine. Ever since the negotations had started to go more smoothly, wine had mysteriously disappeared from the table during talks. Now, the uruk only offered it when he and Celebrimbor were eating on their own.

A fact that Celebrimbor had noted with a wry sense of humor – he didn’t believe Adar needed the wine to endure those conversations. It seemed more likely he wanted to savor it now instead of using it to calm his temper. Which was, in fact, a thought that softened something in Celebrimbor’s chest.

"Iron, from what little I know. It was Mairon who was gifted in the craft of smithing, not I," the uruk shrugged.

Celebrimbor acknowledged Adar’s words with a nod and humm, before he turned back to the intimdating shape in the middle of the table. "May I?" he asked as he pointed at it. At Adar’s slow nod, he extended careful fingers and gingerly dragged the object towards himself.

It felt frighteningly similar to any ordinary iron crown as he held it in his hands. Cold to the touch, and heavy – it would have likely been uncomfortable to wear for long on the head of any mortal being. It also seemed unwieldy, as the smith lifted it and turned it about in his hands.

Even if he didn’t have the strength of a warrior, Celebrimbor could tell this would be difficult to handle during combat. Which, come to think of it, could prove to be a disadvantage when facing Sauron, who was quick on his feet and – judging by Galadriel's and Adar's accounts – quite skilled in battle. If only it was a bit lighter, and perhaps, had longer spikes-

He stopped. Frowned. Then lifted his eyebrows as he stared at the opposite side of the tent, then back at the crown, and finally at Adar.

The uruk, who had let Celebrimbor silently consider the iron adornment without comment, wore an expression of intrigue that quickly changed to one of caution.

The smith sprung up from his chair, and held up the crown. "Would you...if it could be done, would you want me to...try and improve this? For the oncoming battle?"

There was a very long moment of silence. The uruk’s face held some surprise, but for the most part, it had turned to stone. The smith cringed at himself – in his enthusiasm, taken with his own rapidly forming idea, he had forgotten that this was Adar’s best chance at killing Sauron.

Of course, he wouldn’t want Celebrimbor to tinker with it, so close to finalizing the alliance with the elves and fighting their shared enemy. The smith didn’t even know if he could. And yet-

"I am not sure even one such as you might be able to do that," Adar said, slowly. His gaze slipped off to the side as he pursed his lips and drew his brows. His gauntleted hand flexed where he’d propped his arm onto the table.

And then, as he turned his eyes back to Celebrimbor, "But, if that is your wish...you may try."

Celebrimbor must have looked as astonished as he felt, he was sure of it. Especially so when, after a while, he could see a very small grin grow on Adar's face. It was just as unexpected as his permission, and caused Celebrimbor to fluster a little.

The uruk's next words were quiet. "Though, be careful as you do. After Morgoth, none other than Mairon has been able to even put a dent in this thing. Believe me, myself and countless of my children have tried."

Celebrimbor nodded, and pressed the crown to his chest. He noted with unease the the metal was not warming to his touch, but ignored that for the moment. "I am not certain I will be able to accomplish anything with it, either, but- I would like to try, at least. Since so much depends on it."

He didn't say it out loud, but he meant the fate of Eregion and Mordor just as much as that the two armies, and the lives of his friends, his own - and that of his husband. Which would be in such a vulnerable, fragile state if he were the one to brandish the crown against Sauron. The thought unsettled the elf, had in fact begun to disturb him the more he talked to Adar, learnt of him, stayed with him.

'I do not wish to lose him in this battle,' the smith thought. Not just because of the alliance, or what would become of Adar's children. No, this was - affection, as strange as it still was to admit to himself. He wasn't sure if the uruk thought of them as friends yet, but Celebrimbor certainly thought of them as more than allies by now.

With a resolute, determined expression, the smith straightened, and then went to wrap the crown in some rough fabric. He had a hunch Adar's children might not appreciate it if he walked through their midst with that thing on display.

"I'll ask Glûg to accompany me to Gurlak's forge. Would you send for me, if you receive any word from my friends?"

The Lord Father of the uruk made a shooing motion, and finally sat back at the table, ready to finish his meal. "I will. Go- I have a feeling this will take some time," he motioned at the bundle in Celebrimbor's arms, "And I need to prepare myself for what is to come."

Celebrimbor threw the uruk a sympathetic glance. "If you want my advice, it might be a good call to serve wine once the high king arrives. He is rather fond of the drink, and yours should be of a taste he enjoys," he further thought on it, briefly. "Also, green foods - vegetables, leafy greens. Pickles might do, but do not serve only those." He drew a face.

Adar pinched his lips lest they quirk into another grin, but then showed his assent - and his thanks - with a tilt of his head.

Celebrimbor was struck with how little Adar used his hands in conversations; he and his fellow elves were quite prone to gesturing, whereas the uruk was still as a stone for much of the time and usually moved at a slow, almost leisurely pace. The elf pondered if this was due to the fact that he was so long-lived, or if it had other reasons.

"I will take that into consideration. Now, go. I am sure Galadriel and Elrond will be back much quicker than we might expect."

With a smile and another fond look in Adar's direction, Celebrimbor did as he was bid, and exited the tent. Luckily, Glûg was right outside - and judging by his very innocent, decidedly desinterested look, had been trying to eavesdrop. Again. Celebrimbor ignored it and said, "Glûg, please, take me to Gurlak at once."

[firstelevens]

the fundamental things apply

sam/bucky | alternate universe (mr and mrs smith au) | 2.2k | rated g

Two years before the events of outlaw life looks pretty wholesome, between covert missions and saving the world, Sam and Bucky spend their first Valentine's Day together as a married-but-not-actually-married couple.

It’s not completely Sam’s fault that he forgets what day it is. He’s been on back to back missions since he got back from Christmas with his family, and late winter is always so miserable in DC. Everything is gray and wet and icy, and Sam misses the Gulf right down to his bones at this time of year. He’d gone out of his way to spend the better part of the last two Februaries off on missions: Morocco last year, Peru the year before. 

Work is no help either. Most agents spend so much time in the field that the office is usually empty, and if anyone had a conversation that might have tipped Sam off, it happened while he was behind the closed doors of his office, writing up a report on the HYDRA cell they’d been tracking in Norway. He doesn’t clock it until he’s taking the metro home, the women sitting in front of him caught up in conversation about the benefits of a night in versus going to a restaurant on Valentine’s Day.

He feels his eyes widen as he pulls out his phone to check the date: February 14th.

( read the rest on AO3 )

[gojoest]

lowkey had a very scandalous idea earlier this week, still very undeveloped though

[bopbop171]

Tierlist of some of my fav Otome Isekai that no one asked for 🧡

[parcoeurs]

Pre Season Testing 2024 - Ayman Yaqoob

[heich0e]

Please I would love to be kita’s little wife, treated with respect by everyone, doing whatever you want and Kita breeds you every night as soon as you’re married 🤤🤤🤤

oHhHhHhhhHHhHHHH wait this is making me think about oyabun kita making you wait until you're married to take you to bed and it's doing really awful terrible no good things to me

[wonder-worker]

Is it true that Elizabeth of York birth celebrated like she was a son? I have seen some historians say this.

Hi! Yes, Edward IV did celebrate his daughter’s birth as though she was a male heir (“a prince”), iirc as per the Great Chronicle.

While we have no contemporary reports at the time of Elizabeth of York's birth, we know that Luchino Dallaghiexia reported that the birth of Edward and Elizabeth's third child, Cecily of York, "rejoiced the king and all the nobles exceedingly*, though they would have preferred a son'. Wanting a son (ie: an heir) was typical for their time period, likely enhanced by Edward and Elizabeth's unprecedentedly controversial marriage, her very unsuitable origins and his own status as a usurper. The fact that he was described as being "exceedingly" delighted at the birth of his third daughter in a row regardless does support the claim that he would have gone over-the-top to celebrate the birth of his first legitimate** child.

Hope this helps!

*Bizarrely, I have seen several historians and blogs use Dallaghiexia's letter to claim that Edward IV was bitterly disappointed at Cecily of York's birth. I don't understand how historical reading comprehension can be so poor that "rejoiced the king exceedingly" has somehow been rewritten as the...exact opposite of that. With no self-awareness whatsoever. **Edward's illegitimate daughter Margaret - popularly known as Elizabeth for some reason - was almost definitely born before his marriage. We don't know the birth dates of his other two illegitimate children: I think the likeliest conception date for Arthur was in early 1470 (when he was away from court, near Hampshire), but it's unverified; and we know nothing about Grace - which was probably her surname, not her name - other than the fact that Elizabeth Woodville seems to have been very attached to her.

[murasaki-cha]

Well I had some free time today so I binged all released episodes of My Demon

THE FREAKING KISS AT THE END OF EPISODE 8!!!!!! OH MY GOD IT WAS EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED!!!!!

"You are my fate that I cannot deny" LITERALLY STFU JEONG GU WON!!!!

[nostalgia-tblr]

u know, once someone has pointed out the orientalism in most of fandom's depictions of jotun!loki you can never unsee it.

[sergeantpixie]

I love marina to!!! who do you ship her with?

Yay! My girl deserves all the love tbh.

My Marina Ships:

Colin/Marina - Very basic I know but I think it says a lot about what she thought of him that she picked him to be her baby daddy (and it says so much about him that he said he would've gladly married her if she told him the truth, I'm inclined to believe him.) and I'm a sucker okay.

Daphne/Marina - Mostly because they are character foils but also because they are pretty and also because both of them deserved more friends. I like to think they at least write letters to each other still!

Simon/Marina - This is my big reach but I just can absolutely see Simon being absolutely okay with another man's kid inheriting his estate as a big fuck you to his dad. And again, they'd be soooo pretty together.

[fandomsbyladymelodrama]

Calling all Downton and/or Andith fans <3 I've been struck by random inspiration that would scandalize Granny ;)

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 10.2

Of Convenience 10.2

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 10th snippet, part 2. The elves’ and Adar’s protective antics towards their friend and husband are less than welcome, but Celebrimbor wouldn't be Celebrimbor if he just let others decide his fate for him.

Warnings for the mention/very rudimentary description of dead bodies and character injuries on a minor character.

This elf has escaped from Sauron himself, what did the elves and Adar think was going to happen?! Of course our favorite elven smith is not going to let the others have all the fun (danger) of fighting the fallen maia by themselves! Also, Gurlak for the win, because I love her.

To say that Celebrimbor was incensed would have been an understatement. Granted, he already had a plan, and he was fairly certain Gurlak and her troop wouldn’t attempt to talk him out of it, but the fact that his friends had decided that he was better kept behind the frontlines without giving him a say in the matter still stung.

Gurlak was throwing him sidelong glances as they marched back towards the encampment. Though, ‘towards’ was a very lose way to describe it. Celebrimbor had begun to drift off of the path that would lead them back directly some time ago, and neither Gurlak nor her companions had commented on it yet, though they had to be aware.

Cursing under his breath, the elf finally turned to the uruk woman. Finding out that she was both a smith and a fighter had been not exactly been a surprise, and Celebrimbor felt lighter knowing he had a friend by his side. Especially with what he would attempt.

"I cannot believe they expect me to just sit back and watch them walk into danger," he grumbled at her.

Gurlak’s face pulled into a grimace in response. It was clear she was feeling discontented with the way things had gone as well, even if she hadn’t openly protested her leader in that moment. Celebrimbor didn’t fault her for it – the uruk practically revered Adar. The Lord Father likely would have just scolded her and sent her right along the elf.

"It’s a shortsighted idea," she hissed through her teeth, and the elf quickly turned his head fully towards her and raised his eyebrows at her words. "Careless. They’ll need everyone there to defeat him. Adar’s protectiveness towards you blinds him. As it did the elves, but I had less faith in those than I had in him – no offense."

She quirked her lips up at the last part, and the elf snorted and shook his head fondly before he looked at her again. "None taken."

After a brief moment, he spoke up again. His tone was cautious. "What if there was another way for me to get into the city, without Adar knowing or having a say in it?"

Gurlak stopped abruptly as he said this, as did the rest of her group. There were about a dozen uruk she had been allowed to take with her to ensure Celebrimbor’s safety. All of them were looking at the uruk smith as she stared wide-eyed at the elf in their midst.

"I’d ask you why only you know of that option – and why you haven’t told the others," the uruk crossed her arms as she narrowed her eyes at him.

But Celebrimbor had seen the hesitation that came before the suspicion, and let his hope guide him into answering her.

"It’s just a pathway, little more than a sewer. Far too small to lead an army through. And so secret only a few know of its existance – the elven leaders do, but even they wouldn’t have used it. The plan was to openly reclaim the city to avoid any confusion or chance for manipulation in the aftermath," he explained.

A pause. "So that is the idea you were talking about," the uruk finally replied. She still looked as if she was fighting herself, and the orders Adar had given her, but the smirk on her face was back already. "I had feared you would attempt a mutiny."

Celebrimbor pretended to gasp in offense and placed a hand on his chest. "I would never do that," then he briefly thought on it. "Except, one might perhaps consider this sort of a mutiny as well? Though on a much smaller scale."

He stepped closer to Gurlak, and faced her directly. "That is, depending on your reaction to my plan, of course."

She was looking at him with an unreadable expression for a moment. "If I let you go – promise me, like with that sword you forged, you will use this chance to help Adar." She voiced it like a demand, but the look in her eyes was almost pleading.

Celebrimbor smiled warmly at her, and grabbed her hand to squeeze it. He had picked up on the fact that most of the uruk were less prone to touch than elves were, but she grasped his hand in turn and did not flinch from him. "I am doing this to help my friends and him," he held up his free hand when she made to speak again. "But I have to admit that ever since I have gotten to know Adar, I have grown quite fond of him."

He implored her to understand with his eyes. "I care about him. I tried to tell him as much, yesterday, but my words deserted me before I could. I cannot bear thought that he might…I just cannot lose him. Not now. Not to Sauron."

"So yes, I promise you Gurlak – I will use this chance to help and protect him. Not just for the good of middle earth, but because I want, no, need him to live."

Gurlak’s face turned from confusion, to awe, and then finally, to a sort of fond, almost motherly understanding that Celebrimbor hadn’t seen directed towards himself in a long time. Unexpectedly, she cupped his face.

"Hmpf. If he isn’t aware at this point that you care about him, he is a fool."

The elf blinked. "Wha-?" But she did not let him finish.

"Go and save him," she simply said. "Time is scarce. We’ll talk when you return. With him."

She turned towards her companions, and pointed in the opposite direction than the one Celebrimbor had tried to lead them to. With a completely flat tone, she exclaimed. "I think I saw something suspicious in those bushes over there. We should investigate."

Celebrimbor was gaping at her, and then felt his eyes widen as, one by one, the other uruk nodded or smirked at Celebrimbor before they also turned in the direction that Gurlak had pointed to, deliberately casual. "Oh yes, I think I saw it too," another said, equally deadpan. "We should take a look at that."

The uruk woman turned towards the smith once more. "I trust that you will find your way back to camp on your own as we take care of this...danger," she said, and then winked at Celebrimbor before she and the others started walking away from the elf. "Good luck."

"Thank you, Gurlak," the elf breathed. "And good luck to you as well."

With a wave of her hand, she went, and took the other uruk with her. Celebrimbor barely watched them for a moment before he turned around and began to sprint in the direction he knew the secret passageway to be.

Gurlak was right – time was of the essence, and he would not waste it, now that he could still make a difference.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to find the entrance, and he quickly proceeded to make his way through the narrow passage. As he hurried forward while still trying not to make too much noise, lest Sauron had found this secret path and asked the city guard to patrol it, the elf couldn’t help but think back on the conversation he’d just had with Gurlak.

She’s seemed so awfully unsurprised at his confession. Was it truly so obvious, what he felt for Adar? Even if he still hadn’t dared to put a name the emotion he felt?

Affection, he’d called it. Fondness. But did that really serve to describe his own feelings to their fullest extent? His worry of losing Adar? Of perhaps not seeing him alive again?

This was more than the feelings he held for his own friends. Despite the fact that the uruk and him had only gotten to know each other a few weeks ago. But it had been intense weeks and unusual circumstances that had pushed them together, and subsequently brought them much closer than they ever would have been otherwise.

Could he truly be faulted, for falling in love so quickly; so easily?

For that had to be what he was feeling, Celebrimbor was sure of that now. The way his heart had ached after the previous evening, after he had failed to say what he should have. The way he grew warm at Adar’s touch and when the other smiled at him. How safe he’d felt when Adar protected or reassured him.

The elf briefly stopped to hold onto the wall next to him at the realization. He loved the other. And he’d let it remain unsaid as he let the other walk into a deadly fight with Sauron.

Determined, Celebrimbor quickened his step. The passage seemed near endless, with little light to guide him and no way to gauge how far along he was. The darkness and the turmoil of his own thoughts pressed down on him until, finally, he took another turn and almost ran against a door. Opening it made him stumble into a small, nondescript alley.

He’d made it. He was finally back in Eregion.

The smith let himself enjoy a brief moment of elation, both that his trek had been successful, but also that the city seemed to mostly be the same as he had left it. It had not been turned into a warzone, there were no countless dead elves lining the streets and no screams of terror to be heard from nearby places.

The elf continued to walk at a fast pace as he kept to the side streets and quiet alleyways, unsure whether or not his guards would recognize and try to seize him despite the presence of their king in the city.

He managed to avoid any and all other people, thankfully, and followed what cues he could find to where his friends and husband had chosen to confront Sauron.

Or, more likely, where Sauron had lain in wait; waited for them to come to him.

The smith was not the least bit surprised that Morgoth’s shadow had chosen Celebrimbor’s forge, and the tall tower that housed it, as the place where he would confront the alliance of elves and uruk. It seemed strangely apt, the elf thought sardonically while he hurried over.

An entourage of elves and uruk had followed Gil-Galad, Galadriel, Elrond and Adar to the tower. Where Celebrimbor had feared that he’d had to stage a distraction and sneak past, he now found the area around the tower deserted, and countless bodies strewn about the stairs and on the square at the tower’s base, uruk and elf alike.

He gasped in horror at the sight. Those were his own guards, but also elves from the Lindon army and Adar’s children. It looked as if some great power had thrown them about, while some others had clearly been felled by a sword or another sharp weapon.

Celebrimbor briefly squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the sword he carried, before he took a steadying breath and forced himself onward.

The interior of the tower did not look much better; he found even more bodies, but thankfully, some of the people he found were still alive.

"Glûg," the elf whispered, too cautious to raise his voice. The uruk in question was propped against the wall and holding onto his side from which black blood had seeped into his tunic. An elven woman with long, blonde hair kneeled next to him. Both whipped around at Celebrimbor’s words. The smith felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Elf," Glûg exclaimed, obviously too hurt to say much more as he coughed and held onto his wound to stem the bloodflow.

The elven woman stared at him with round eyes full of surprise. "Master Celebrimbor-"

"Mirdania." The smith felt relieved, both to see that Glûg and Mirdania were alive, but also that his apprentice appeared to be mostly unharmed. Sure, she had some scratches on her and her dress had seen better days, but nothing worse had happened to her it seemed.

She jumped up from where she sat and hurried over to him, and the smith caught her as she collapsed into his arms with a desperate sob.

He pulled her close for a moment, let the relief and hope he felt wash through him and strengthen his resolve, before he grabbed her shoulders and held her back.

"I am so very glad to see you," he said. They both had moisture in their eyes as they smiled at each other. "I thought he might have hurt you, or worse. I am so sorry I left you behind-"

"You were right to run," she replied, quickly, caught his hands and held them between her own. "Annatar, he- When he found out you were gone, he changed. He- he got so angry," her voice shook. Even if she was unharmed, it was clear the last weeks had taken their toll on her.

He cupped her cheek. "We were all deceived by him. It’s not your fault," the smith tried to reassure her. Celebrimbor wished he had more time, but he could hear fighting from up in the tower, felt the building shake even as he spoke, and knew he could not hesitate now.

"Mirdania, Adar and his uruk have formed an alliance with us. I must hurry and try to help them – take Glûg, bring him out of the city and to his people, I am sure they will be able to help him. Tell them you are with me, they won’t hurt you or turn you away."

His apprentice looked ready to argue, even as she looked at the uruk with worry. Glûg and Celebrimbor exchanged a brief nod – Adar’s lieutenant looked far from surprised to see him. "Come on, elf- you heard him. Don’t you want your city back?" And then he coughed, once again, and Mirdania seemed to make up her mind.

Her nod was jerky, but when she looked at Celebrimbor again, her expression was resolute. "Be careful. He’s stronger than any ordinary elf. Even Galadriel-"

Celebrimbor nodded, and then gently pushed her towards Glûg. "I know. That is why I have to try. I can’t let him kill them," as he made for the stairs, he took off his helmet, throwing it aside as he unsheathed the sword he carried. "Go, Mirdania."

He did not look back to see whether or not she would head his request. Love and desperation was pushing him ever onwards, and he would not falter now.

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Prompt: Fictober Day 1: "That was good work."

Fandom: Lumine

Summary: Camille and Kody have a brief conversation.

Content Warnings: N/A

Words: 1,249

Camille watched a series of bottles shift between Kody’s hands; once the green liquid from one vial had been drained into another, thicker, clear substance, Kody would reach for another, his expression not changing past the subtle twice of his nose as the scents mingled. The green itself spread and fell slowly, as if he had just dropped liquid food dye into watery corn syrup.

“Don’t hesitate,” Camille reminded him, her palm pressed to her cheek. “If you do, it’s going to end up tasting acidic.”

Kody huffed in response, his hands lingering over another tube held in a small wooden rack. “Don’t distract me.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Because you’re distracting me.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgment mingled with amusement caught behind Camille’s now-closed lips as she watched him continue, now more focused than before as he slowly poured half of the liquid in with the mixture.

“What, you’re not gonna get onto me for using too much or too little?” As he spoke, Kody’s bitter gaze flickered up long enough to glance at the other. He slowly reached out for the stirring stick, eyes stuck on Camille as he pulled it closer. “Or you’re not gonna tell me to be careful about how I stir it?”

“Nope, not yet. I’m just waiting and watching now.” Camille smiled a bit, watching as he stirred slowly, almost meticulously. His focus had seemed to double after he grew quiet. “What happened to me not distracting you?”

“If I’m just complaining about you, then I’m not getting distracted. But if you’re interrupting me, then I’m gonna lose focus. How long does this even need to be stirred?”

“Didn’t you read the note I left you?”

“I can’t read Terranian yet, and you left it in Terranian.”

Camille could feel her smile break as he reminded her—though, the only actual change on her expression was a subtle twitch of her lips. Her brain went blank, the only word crossing her mind for a moment being ‘shit’ as she stared at the boy now working silently across from her.

That’s right, you and Sera couldn’t talk at all when you first met her.

“How did you follow the instructions up until now?”

“Eyeballed it. I made something similar before, so, it’s not like it’s a big deal. Plus, it’s not like I even asked you to actually write instructions down for me—I just asked if you had the ingredients.”

“Given how Lumine has talked about how you make your potions… That’s not really reassuring.”

“I knew what I was doing then, too.”

“Did you?”

Kody grew quiet, pulling the stick out as he transferred the syrup-consistency potion into another glass bottle and seal it.

“I didn’t know how it was actually going to react with him, but I knew it wouldn’t kill him. I knew what I put in it, and that nothing in it would mix badly together to be that bad.”

“M-hm. At least there’s that, I guess.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Feels like there should be a ‘usually’ there, Camille said silently, watching Kody put the vial aside and seal the remaining ingredients. You’ve got a long way to go, but. That doesn’t mean you haven’t studied hard already.

“I’ll clean everything up, too. So. Don’t worry about me making things more of a mess than they already are.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it before I go out today.” Camille waved her hand, watching as Kody pushed himself up. He gathered the emptied and now-dirtied dishes and tools and took them towards the small kitchen. “If you’re going to try and clean up anyway, just drop them off in the sink that’s not by the fridge. It’s the one that’s for anything that isn’t a fruit or vegetable. Potions, meat, whatever.”

“Alright.” Kody did as she instructed, now without any complaint or push-back, and then sat back down across from her. He picked the potion’s bottle back up and held it up to the light, his eyes flickering back and forth through the liquid that almost matched his eye color as he inspected it. “Is it really safe to wash potion bottles next to where you prep meat, though?”

“I mean, nothing I work with in here is toxic. And if it is, then the bottle just gets disposed of.” Camille shrugged, watching him closely. He seemed, at the very least, pleased with the mixture’s consistency and color. “So, what made you want to make something for pain? Everything okay?”

“You’ve been complaining about headaches a lot lately, and clearly, you’re not going to do anything about it yourself.”

Camille felt her smile shatter once again, her lips now fully turning into a frown. “You really noticed that, huh?”

“Lumine did, too. He actually overheard you mention it first.”

“Sera?”

“You actually don’t say anything about it around her, I don’t know if you’re just like. Worried about worrying her or something, but. You don’t even really say it to us, you just kind of say it to yourself and keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

Camille dragged her hand down her face as she leaned harder into the back of her chair. “Aghhh. I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah, well. It’s getting on my nerves, so try this. It’s cool enough now.” He held the bottle out to her, their green eyes meeting as her attention redirected back towards him.

Getting on your nerves? Is that just your way of saying you worry, in this case? Camille hid her smile, eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

She took the bottle from his hands, much smaller than her own, the glass still subtly warm—partially from the mixture, partially from his own hands. “So, you actually sat down and made this for me?”

“Hopefully it’s not too acidic from you distracting me.”

Judging by his half-smirk, it was less of a concern, and more of a facetious comment. Something to poke and prod at her.

She couldn’t help but smile a bit more, seeing how confident he was. How sure he was that, even though she distracted him so much by talking to him, it would still be alright. Even if he silently struggled with it on most days, she always tried to take the moments that he was so sure of himself in good spirits.

“Ha. Even if it was, I’ve definitely had worse than something that’s a little bit acidic. I’ve probably had coffee worse than it, honestly.” She opened it, sniffed, and hen downed it as quickly as possible. If it was actually acidic, she would—hopefully—not even notice. If anything, it would likely feel no worse than mild heartburn—and at worse, severe heartburn.

“Well, was it?”

She waited for a moment, expecting an aftertaste of… Something. Bitterness. Something akin to bile. An incorrect texture from overmixing, adding one ingredient too soon, overheating it, letting it get too cool during the cooking process rather than letting it cool after, something.

But it was no different from what she would have made herself for a patient. Slightly sweet, a bit sticky—it would definitely feel better if she had chased it down with warm water or something else. But it was, actually, up to her standards.

“Not at all, actually.” She said, twisting the neck of the bottle in her fingers. “That was good work, Kody.”

“Yeah? Told you I knew what I was doing. Hope it helps, it’ll probably take a little bit, but.”

[the-sage-libriomancer]

try as i might, i simply can't make Kyoko and Katsuya's relationship work right in my head. Katsuya was apparently just an intern teacher when they met, so you could say that he was 18-19 at the time (even if it's a stretch bc he's implied to be in his mid twenties), but that still leaves Kyoko 15 going on 16 which is definitely not great. i just don't see how Katsuya would realistically fall in love with Kyoko unless he was a creep, which is obviously not the sort of person he's being portrayed as. it also makes Katsuya's family look a lot more sympathetic for opposing their relationship because uh. that actually is the sort of thing you would realistically have a problem with.

judging from the series' themes, the point of the age gap is likely to show how pursuing a relationship that society disapproves of can isolate the couple and cut off all potential support, thus sticking with the theme of cruelty creating more cruelty, or in this case simply more trauma. Tohru ended up taking on a huge emotional burden because apart from Katsyua's father, no one was around to help Kyoko through her grieving process, to the point that 3 y/o Tohru was literally all that she had.

(it might also be a semi-deconstruction of another shojo trope: the high school protagonist marrying her adult love interest. in this case, being a teenager who marries an adult isn't as easy as overcoming a parent's disapproval. you won't get any support from the rest of the family, especially not extended family, and you'll likely be treated as an outsider for the rest of your time with them. if something happens to rupture your idyllic life (like oh, say, your husband's untimely death), you won't have a safety net and life will get extremely tough. definitely not the triumphant leap into womanhood most teenage girls are dreaming of.)

anyway, i think if i had the opportunity to change one thing about Fruits Basket, i would reconfigure the age gap. the plot-mandated scandal is the biggest issue, but that could've been accomplished just fine by making Kyoko an 18 y/o high school student and Katsuya an 18-20 y/o intern teacher or tutor. still a bit iffy, but at least it's believable that they'd pursue a relationship and doesn't paint Katsuya in an unforgivably bad light. the fact that Katsuya is courting a former student (one who hasn't even officially graduated high school yet) would be enough to make tongues waggle, especially with her delinquent past. no need to make it any squickier than that.

[amberberrystar]

man, one of my favorite things about nightheart as a character is that, as an apprentice, he went to a gathering where the adults were discussing the leader thing and he just pipes up from the kids table and says "hey, how about we try democracy" and everyone gets mad at him

like,,, it's so fuckin funny