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thewulf · 8 months ago

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I Choose You || Legolas

Summary: Request - Hii hope you're having a good day, is it okay if I request a Legolas x reader where reader is Gandalf's granddaughter and joined the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring? They both slowly fell in love with each other along the way and when the incident in Moria happened where Gandalf dies, Legolas comforts her.

A/N: Thank you for the amazing request! Had a blast writing this as usual :) It's a lil long, so enjoy!

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.5k +

TW: Talks of war/death, war, death, orcs, general LOTR triggers

You stand silently amidst the gathered council fading into the background as best you could. The murmur of many voices echoing softly through the vaulted halls of Rivendell. The air is crisp, filled with the mingling scents of ancient scrolls and the distant freshness of autumnal leaves. Elves, men, dwarves, and even a few hobbits have come to discuss the fate of Middle-earth, their faces marked by concern and resolve.

Your grandfather, Gandalf the Grey, stands at the center of it all. His presence both commanding and comforting. You’ve always admired his wisdom and strength and today, more than ever, you feel the weight of your lineage. You are his granddaughter, gifted with a touch of his magical prowess and a deep love for the mysteries of this world.

As the debate swirls around you, Elrond, the lord of Rivendell calls for silence. His gaze settles on the small golden ring laid upon the pedestal. It’s simple form belying its terrible power. The task is clear though the path is fraught with peril: the ring must be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. "We must form a fellowship," Elrond declares. His voice resonant and clear. "Those who will take this burden upon themselves and walk into the shadow to see this evil undone."

A hush falls over the council. Eyes turn, some in fear, others in anticipation, seeking those who might step forward. This is the moment you’ve prepared for, not just since you arrived in Rivendell but throughout your life under Gandalf’s tutelage. With a breath that steadies your resolve you step forward. The rustle of your cloak is like a whisper against the stone floor and several members of the council turn in surprise as you move into the circle of light cast by the morning sun through the high windows.

"I will go," you say, your voice firm and clear. "For the love of my grandfather and for the safety of middle earth. I will see this quest through to its end."

Murmurs of approval ripple through the room and Gandalf meets your eyes across the circle. There’s pride in his gaze and a touch of sorrow, knowing well the dangers that lie ahead. But in this moment you see also the unspoken bond between the two of you. An acknowledgment of the shared commitment to what is right, no matter the cost.

Legolas, a prince of the Woodland Realm, nods to you with respect clear in his bright eyes. Beside him, a stout figure grumbles under his breath, yet Gimli the Dwarf gives a curt nod of assent, recognizing your courage. Beside them a young hobbit named Frodo, who is to be the Ringbearer, looks on with wide, earnest eyes. It is for him, and for all who call this land home, that you pledge your strength. As the council disperses to prepare for the journey you stand beside Gandalf feeling the ancient power of Rivendell around you and the even older strength that lies within your own heart. This is just the beginning you know but you are ready. For the Fellowship, for middle earth, for Gandalf.

You will face whatever comes, together.

As the Fellowship journeys south from Rivendell the path grows increasingly treacherous, winding through craggy mountain passes and shadowed forests. The air is crisp and the first frost of winter sparkles on the leaves. Your companions walk close together. Each step a testament to the weight of the task ahead.

Aragorn leads with a steady hand, his ranger skills essential as the terrain becomes more challenging. Beside him, Boromir of Gondor often lends his strength. His booming voice echoing off the stone trying to keep spirits high among the group, especially the hobbits—Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin—who find amusement in the smallest wonders along the way. Like the frost patterns on the leaves or a particularly stubborn squirrel.

Legolas glides effortlessly beside you. His elven grace a stark contrast to Gimli who stumps along with a determined scowl, his axe ever at the ready. Despite the solemnity of your mission the elf and the dwarf have already begun what seems to be an endless competition, each trying to outdo the other in tracking skills, strength, and the telling of tall tales.

One balmy afternoon as the path narrows along the edges of a steep ravine the rivalry comes to a head between the two of them. Gimli insists he can clear a particularly large fallen tree with a single vault much to Legolas’s skepticism.

“Watch and learn, Master Elf,” Gimli grunts as he began to back up for a running start. Legolas watches with an arched eyebrow, clearly very amused by the red headed dwarf travelling beside him.

Just as Gimli begins to charge forward you step in placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps, Gimli, it would be wiser to assist each other over the obstacle rather than compete with others. After all, the road ahead promises ample challenge for both of your strengths.” You smile warmly down at the ambitious dwarf set out to prove himself.

Gimli stops mid-stride puffing out his chest a bit as he turns to you, then to Legolas. “Hmm, perhaps you are right, lass. What say you, Legolas? Shall we make this journey a test of our cooperation rather than our competition?”

Legolas’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes sparkling with a newfound respect. “I believe our companion speaks wisely. Let us proceed together.” He offers his hand to Gimli who looks at it for a moment before shaking it heartily.

As the journey continues you find yourself often mediating and bringing lightness to tense moments. One evening as the Fellowship gathered around the campfire you recount a humorous anecdote from your days studying under your grandfather. Making sure to mimic Gandalf’s stern voice and dramatic gestures. The group erupts into laughter, the sound carrying through the trees and lifting the spirits of all including the hobbits who clap delightedly and ask for more stories.

Aragorn, sitting across from you nods appreciatively. His eyes meeting yours with a silent thank-you for the lightness you bring. Boromir chuckles, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes clearly more at ease. “You have the gift of your grandfather. Not only in magic but in spirit.” Aragorn comments, his voice warm in the chill air.

Legolas who was sitting beside you leans closer and speaks softly, “Your wisdom brings much-needed peace. And your humor is a light in dark times. It is a rare gift.”

You meet his gaze. The firelight cast dancing shadows across his features. All elves were beautiful but there was something about the Price of Mirkwood that drew you in. “We all carry our gifts, Legolas. Yours is your unerring optimism and sharp eye. Gimli’s his steadfastness and heart. Boromir’s his valor. Aragorn’s his leadership. And the hobbits’ their enduring cheer. Together we are stronger than each individual.”

As the nights grow longer and the path more daunting the bonds within the Fellowship deepen, fortified by shared challenges and your quiet efforts to understand, and support each other. In the quiet moments Legolas teaches you Elvish songs of old. And Gimli shares tales of the great Dwarven halls, their voices blending into the night creating a tapestry of friendship and hope.

As the Fellowship delves into the ancient depths of Moria the air grows thick with the mustiness of ages and the weight of stone. The walls echo with the memory of Dwarven voices, now silent. The path is lit only by the faint glow of Gandalf’s staff. Gimli moves with a mix of reverence and sorrow. His eyes reflecting a deep familial connection to the lost realm of his kin. The narrow passages twist and turn leading you deeper into the mountain’s heart. The quiet is oppressive, only broken by the occasional drip of water or the scuffle of a boot on stone. Tension mounts with each step and even the normally unflappable Legolas seems taut, his eyes scanning the shadows.

All too suddenly, the dark stillness erupts into chaos. A low growl escalates into a deafening roar as the Balrog, a creature of fire and shadow, reveals itself. The ground trembles beneath its weight and the air sears with heat. Gandalf steps forward his face set with grim determination. “Lead them on, Aragorn,” he commands. “The bridge is near. Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!” Your grandfather cries as he gives you a sharp look. Obey. You must listen to him now.

The Fellowship rushes forward driven by fear and the urgent need to escape, but you hesitate, your heart torn as Gandalf faces the monster alone. As the others cross the bridge of Khazad-dûm you watch, helpless, as Gandalf confronts the Balrog. His staff was raised, a brilliant light flaring to meet the darkness.

“You cannot pass,” Gandalf declares. His voice echoing powerfully. It sends a shutter down even your spine.

The Balrog advances and with a defiant cry Gandalf strikes the bridge with his staff. It crumbles sending the creature plummeting into the abyss. But the Balrog’s fiery whip lashes out, catching Gandalf’s leg, pulling him towards the edge. With a calm but utterly sad glance back at you, he murmurs, “Fly, you fools,” before falling into the darkness below.

Shock paralyzes you momentarily, tears blurring your vision. The others tug at you, pulling you away from the crumbling edge. As you flee Moria the loss of your beloved grandfather hits you. A deep ache that seems to echo through the empty halls. Outside, under the grey, mourning sky, the Fellowship collapses in a clearing. Each member grappling with grief. Your knees give out and you sink to the ground, overwhelmed by sorrow. Legolas is at your side in an instant, his presence a silent solace. He does not speak, but his hand finds yours, squeezing gently. A clear reminder that you are not alone.

Gimli joins you. His own eyes rimmed red. “He was the greatest of us all,” he says gruffly with his voice thick with emotion. “I am honored to have walked beside him and I vow to you, we will see this quest through. For him and for all our sakes.”

The words are a balm to your spirit even as you could not reply. Words were too hard for you now. You lean into Legolas, his strength supporting you. You mourn the loss of the only thing you knew. Legolas and Gimli by your side reminding you that even in the depths of loss, the bonds of friendship and love hold firm.

You manage to whisper a weak "Thank you," before the sorrow overwhelms you once more. Tears flood your cheeks, each one a memory, a moment shared with Gandalf that you'll never experience again. Overcome, you turn into Legolas's side, seeking the comfort that only close, physical presence can provide. Though he was not typically fond of physical touch he does not hesitate to comfort you. He wraps his arms around you, his embrace firm and unwavering. In this moment your need transcends his usual reservations, and he holds you close. A silent sentinel in your hour of vulnerability.

His hands are steady on your back, one arm around your shoulders, the other at your waist, grounding you as your grief spills forth unchecked. Legolas's heart aches for your loss and though he may not express his emotions openly his actions speak a clear language of care and adoration. As you cry into his side, Legolas rests his chin atop your head. His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon where the last light of day gives way to twilight. He feels the weight of your sorrow as if it were his own, yet he knows he must stand strong for you.

Legolas knows that the road ahead will be fraught with further trials but for now, he offers you all that he can—protection, comfort, and an unspoken promise that no matter what lies ahead, you will not face it alone. In the stillness that wraps around you and Legolas there's a respectful pause from the rest of the Fellowship. They were giving you a moment to collect yourself under the cloak of Legolas's support. Aragorn, ever attentive to the needs of his comrades, notices the depth of your grief and the comfort Legolas provides. He understands the significance of this moment, the necessity of mourning and the importance of support in such times.

Standing a short distance away Aragorn speaks quietly with the hobbits making sure everyone is ready to continue but delaying their departure ever so slightly for your sake. His leadership is subtle. His decisions shaped by a deep understanding of his people's emotional and physical stamina.

After a brief moment, Aragorn looks over, his eyes meeting Legolas’s over your bowed head. There’s a silent communication between them. A leader’s acknowledgement and a friend’s gratitude for the support given to one of their own. Aragorn’s face softens, his respect for whatever was forming between you two clear in his gentle nod.

With a deep breath, signaling both readiness and respect, Aragorn approaches. His voice is soft yet carries a necessary urgency as he speaks. His words meant to soothe but also to remind of the path ahead. “We must move on for night will not wait for us and neither will our enemies,” he spoke with his tone conveying both compassion and resolve. “Take the time you need but remember we must not linger long.”

Legolas gently helps you stand straighter his arms still offering support. As you wipe away the last of your tears, strengthened by the comfort you’ve received, you nod in understanding. Legolas gives you a reassuring look. His eyes promising continued support and then he gently releases you. He was ready to stand by your side as you all prepare to resume the journey. With a final glance at Gandalf’s last stand you and the Fellowship gather your gear and set off once more into the fading light. The memory of Gandalf a guiding light that pushes you forward through the darkness.

Emerging into the sunlight of the world again does little to lift the sorrow of the Fellowship which soon deepens with Boromir’s tragic fall at Amon Hen. His valiant defense of Merry and Pippin against the Uruk-hai, though ultimately costing him his life, marked him forever a hero in the annals of your journey. The loss of such a stalwart companion leaves a void in your heart and within the group, casting a pall over your spirits.

Driven by a fierce determination to honor Boromir’s sacrifice, you, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli give chase across the plains of Rohan to rescue Merry and Pippin from their captors. The pursuit is grueling. Pushing each of you to your very limits. The landscape of Rohan is vast and relentless, but the tracks are clear, guiding you unerringly toward the thick fringes of Fangorn Forest. The hope of rescuing the hobbits fuels your weary bodies onward even as your hearts ache with the memory of Gandalf's fall and Boromir’s courageous end.

As you follow the trail into the shadowy depths of Fangorn a sense of ancient watchfulness grows. The forest feels alive, old beyond reckoning, and filled with secrets. It is here among the whispering trees that the unexpected happens. A figure steps out from the shadows garbed in white, his presence bright against the dark underbrush. The shock of seeing what you believe might be Saruman stops you in your tracks. But as the figure approaches the energy changes—the air around him shimmers with a familiar warmth and power. Not the cold malice of Saruman.

"Gandalf?" Legolas breathes. A note of awe mingling with disbelief.

You squint, hardly daring to believe it to be true. As he draws closer, clarity dawns, and recognition floods your senses. Overcome with emotion you shout, "Grandfather!" and sprint toward him. Your heart swelling with joy and relief.

Gandalf opens his arms wide, and you crash into his embrace. The impact strong yet comforting. "My dear child," he murmurs. His voice warm and welcoming as he wraps his arms around you. His cloak envelops you with a familiar scent of pipe-weed and the road clinging to the fabric grounding you in the reality of his return.

"Yes, it is I," Gandalf responds gently, now looking down at you with sparkling eyes, "but as Gandalf the White. I come back to you at the turn of the tide. Stronger and renewed. Just as our hope must now be."

The grief at Boromir’s death and the shock of Gandalf's return blend into a complex tapestry of emotions. The initial shock gives way to a festive air as relief and joy wash over Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. They join in, their earlier despair replaced by laughter and words of amazement, forming a tight circle around you and Gandalf.

As Gandalf explains his battle with the Balrog and his subsequent rebirth his words filling the gaps in your understanding and rekindling hope in your hearts. His return not only signifies a miraculous second chance but also invigorates the Fellowship with renewed purpose and determination. With Gandalf's guidance now as Gandalf the White you all feel a renewed sense of purpose. The path forward is still fraught with danger but with Gandalf returned, and in memory of Boromir’s bravery, you are reminded that even in the darkest times there can be resurrection and hope. Together you prepare to resume the quest, stronger and more determined than ever.

"Your guidance has been sorely missed, Gandalf," Aragorn says. His voice steady but thick with emotion as he joins you. He captures the mood of the moment, channeling the Fellowship’s relief into focus. "What should we do? Frodo and Sam are gone to Mordor. Merry and Pippin are captives of the enemy." Gandalf releases you from the embrace but keeps one hand on your shoulder, grounding, and comforting. He surveys the small group with a decisive gaze and the air around you seems to thrum with renewed energy and urgency.

"We will split our efforts," he declares. "Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and you," he nods at you, "will pursue the orcs who took Merry and Pippin. Every second counts and your skills will be crucial in navigating this perilous chase."

You try and protest, but he shakes his head continuing along. "Meanwhile, I shall seek aid from the Ents of Fangorn," Gandalf continues, turning to look at the dense woods behind him. "Their strength will be necessary in the wars to come. We must rally all allies for the shadow from the East grows ever bolder."

As plans are made Legolas stands close by your side, his presence a silent vow of protection and partnership. You feel his hand briefly squeeze yours. A gesture of support that sends a surge of warmth through your heart that he had done so many times before.

"You have grown much, under shadow and trial," Gandalf remarks. Looking at you with a blend of pride and affection With the reunion drawing to a close and the path forward set you all prepare to leave. Gandalf’s return has not only brought back a beloved mentor and friend but has reignited the flame of hope within your heart. Together you feel ready to face the challenges that await knowing that the bonds of friendship and duty will guide you through the darkest of times.

As you traverse the expansive lands towards Rohan the camaraderie within the group deepens, each member adjusting to the rhythms of travel and the complexities of intertwined destinies. Amidst these dynamics your relationship with Legolas finds new ground. The elven prince, always serene and composed, begins to show a more attentive and tender side in his interactions with you. His glances linger longer and his conversations, once filled with tales of ancient elven lore, now often drift towards thoughts and dreams of the future, your future.

It’s during one of the long nights while camped under the vast, starlit sky near the borders of Fangorn Forest, that Gimli noticed the growing tension between you and Legolas. He decided to give you both some space. With a knowing wink and a gruff voice Gimli volunteers for the first watch, his tone unusually gentle. "I reckon the night is best shared with stars and heartfelt words, not an old dwarf's snoring."

Grateful, you share a smile with Legolas as Gimli settles a little distance away, his back to you, affording you a semblance of privacy. Legolas turns to you with his blue eyes reflecting the starlight, and for a moment he simply looks at you as if contemplating a thought long held in silence. "I have seen many wonders in my long life," he starts, his voice soft and mesmerizing under the night sky. "But none compared to the courage and kindness I've seen in you. In these trying times you have become a light guiding me."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you feel a warmth spread through you. "And you, Legolas, have been my solace. In you I find peace amidst turmoil. A joy that even the darkest shadows cannot diminish." He smiles. His gaze intensifying with affection and something more, something unspoken yet palpable between you. Then, in a move that surprises you both for its boldness and its intimacy, Legolas shifts closer and gently pulls you into his side. It's a daring gesture for an elf, particularly one as reserved as Legolas. But it feels right as if many paths had converged to bring this moment into being.

The warmth of his body against yours, the protective embrace of his arm—these are things you never expected to find so far from home. "It seems we have found comfort in one another's presence," he says softly. "Would that we might find a way to keep this light alive… no matter what lies ahead?"

"I would like that very much," you whisper as you leaned into the strength of his embrace.

The two of you sit under the blanket of night talking softly of dreams for a peaceful future and the immediate plans for the days to come. The reality of the quest remains but for now, under the stars, you both allow yourselves the luxury of imagining a life beyond the war. Both of you bound by a newfound affection that promises to grow with each passing day.

At Helm's Deep the air is thick with the tension of impending battle. The great fortress, built into the deep folds of the mountain, stands as the last bastion of hope against the relentless march of Saruman's forces. As the sky darkens and the torches flicker against the night you stand on the ramparts beside Legolas watching the sea of enemies gathering in the distance.

Legolas turns to you, his expression clouded with concern. “You should not be here,” he says softly. His voice barely above the howl of the wind. “This battle... it is not like the ones before. I fear—”

“I know,” you interrupt, understanding his fear but meeting his gaze with a resolve that mirrors the steel of the swords of your comrades below. “I know what this battle could mean for all of us. But I must stand with you, with all of you. There is no other place for me now, Legolas.”

Seeing the determination in your eyes, Legolas's expression softens and he pulls you gently against his side. It was a bold move for him, especially in such a public setting. “Then we will face it together,” he says squeezing your hand tightly as a silent promise passes between you.

The night deepens and the enemy’s drums beat a terrifying rhythm that seems to match the racing of your heart. Legolas pulls you closer. His eyes searching yours in the dim light. “No matter what happens tonight, know this,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the chaos swelling around you. “I love you. I have loved you amidst the shadows of our journey, and I will love you beyond the reaches of time.”

Your breath catches at his words. The simplicity and depth of his confession anchoring you amidst your fears. “And I love you,” you repl. Your voice strong even though you felt so weak. “Whatever may come, whatever we face… we face it together.”

As the battle commences the air fills with the clash of steel and the cries of warriors. You fight back-to-back, Legolas’s arrows finding their marks with deadly precision while you fend off attackers with sword and spell.

Gimli joins two of you, his axe a blur as he protects your flank. “Ha! I’d like to see them try to break this line!” he bellows. His voice a rumble of thunder over the din of battle.

The hours stretch. Each moment a lifetime but you fight with a clarity borne of love and the will to protect not just middle earth but the futures you hope to share. Legolas’s presence is a constant reassurance. His quick glances amidst the fray a reminder of everything worth fighting for.

As dawn breaks the tide of battle shifts. With Gandalf’s timely arrival and the charge of the Rohirrim, a new hope is rekindled. The enemy falters and breaks. Exhausted but alive, you, Legolas, and Gimli regroup, your bodies weary but spirits lifted by the victory, however costly it may have been.

Standing amidst the ruins of the battle you all share a look of relief and unspoken understanding. The war is far from over, but the strength of your bonds, the depth of your love, and the courage of your friends give you the fortitude to press on, to fight another day. With Legolas watch the sunrise, the light washing over Helm’s Deep painting the world in hues of gold and red. A daily rebirth, a reminder that after darkness there always comes a new dawn.

After the long shadow of war finally lifts with the destruction of the One Ring the world begins to breathe again. Minas Tirith stands gleaming under the bright sun, its banners waving in a joyous breeze. The streets are filled with music and laughter as people from all corners of middle earth gather to celebrate the victory. The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers brought forth by a spring that signifies not just the changing of seasons but the dawn of a new era.

You, Legolas, and Gimli stand on a balcony overlooking the jubilant city with a cup of fine wine in hand. The Fellowship has been honored by kings and lords, sung by minstrels, and cheered by crowds. But in this moment, the three of you share a quiet moment that speaks of deeper bonds forged in the fires of your shared trials.

Legolas looks out over the city, his eyes reflecting the green of the fields below. “The world is changed,” he says thoughtfully. “I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air. The darkness that once threatened to swallow us whole is now but a shadow of the past.”

Gimli nods. His eyes twinkling under his bushy brows. “Aye, and it’s time for more pleasant journeys,” he chuckles. “I promised you both a tour of the Glittering Caves, did I not? And I intend to keep that promise. You’ll find no finer sight beneath the mountains, mark my words!”

“And I,” Legolas adds turning to you with a gentle smile, “would have you both come to Mirkwood. The forests have suffered in the darkness. But they recover, much like us. There are places of such beauty and tranquility that they deserve to be witnessed with friends.”

You sip your wine, letting the rich flavors linger on your tongue as you consider the future. “And what of you?” Gimli asks, looking at you with an expectant raise of his eyebrow.

“I think,” you say slowly, smiling at the possibilities that stretch before you, “that I would like to see more of this world that we have fought so hard to save. From the forests of Mirkwood to the caves of the mountains and perhaps even beyond. There’s so much to explore, so much to learn.”

“And so much to rebuild,” Legolas adds. “Wherever we go we carry with us the legacy of those who fought beside us. Those who fell, and those who lived to see this day. Gandalf’s wisdom, Aragorn’s courage, and even Frodo’s quiet determination—they remain with us, guiding us forward.”

Gimli raises his cup, and you and Legolas do the same. “To the future,” Gimli declares heartily.

“To peace,” Legolas adds, his voice warm.

“To friendship,” you conclude. The three of you clink your cups together, the sound crisp and clear.

As the celebration continues below you lean against the stone railing admiring the city sprawling at your feet. Around you the laughter and music rise to the starlit sky, and you feel a profound sense of contentment. The road ahead is uncharted, but you face it not as a lone wanderer but as part of a fellowship that has endured the darkest of times to see the brightest of days.

With Legolas and Gimli by your side you know that whatever adventures lie ahead, they will be filled with joy, discovery, and the unbreakable bonds of friendship. This is not the end of your story but the beginning of a new chapter, one that you will write together.

As the celebrations in Minas Tirith begin to quiet down into a gentle hum of merriment and the evening deepens, Gimli, with a knowing grin and a subtle nod towards Legolas excuses himself to “inspect the integrity of the ale supply,” leaving you two alone on the quieter side of the terrace that overlooks the city’s sprawling, illuminated gardens.

Legolas watches Gimli depart and then turns to you with a serene expression. His eyes reflecting the myriad lights of the city. He reaches into the folds of his tunic and pulls out a small, exquisitely carved wooden box. “I have something for you,” he says. His voice low and filled with a tender emotion that sends a thrill through your heart.

You watch, curious and expectant, as he opens the box to reveal a pendant. It’s a delicate piece, shaped like a leaf but crafted with such intricacy that each vein in the leaf is visible. It shimmered with a light that seems to emanate from within the silver itself.

“This is a leaf from the Mallorn trees of Lothlórien,” Legolas explains as he carefully lifts the pendant from the box. “Galadriel herself gave this to me before we departed and though I cherish it... I believe it was always meant for you.”

He steps closer. His presence so familiar and yet so heart-stirringly profound at this intimate moment. “In the elven tradition,” he continues, his eyes locked onto yours, “to give such a gift is to choose a companion. To offer a token of one’s heart and soul. I give this to you not out of obligation but from a free and willing heart. I choose you and it’s you I wish to be with through all the ages of this world.”

He pauses while holding the pendant up between you. His eyes searching yours for an answer, a confirmation of your feelings. You nod gently, overwhelmed by the emotion in his gaze and the significance of his gift.

Legolas smiles, a soft, joyous curve of his lips, and delicately clasps the pendant around your neck. His fingers brush lightly against your skin as he secures the clasp sending shivers down your spine. The metal feels warm as if charged with his affection and presence.

“I cannot promise that the road ahead will be free from hardship,” Legolas says softly while drawing you close so that your foreheads touch lightly, “but I can promise that you will never walk it alone. Where you go I will follow. And where I go I hope you will be by my side.”

“Legolas,” you whisper. Your voice thick with emotion. “There is no one else I would rather have by my side. No one else I would want to share my path with. I choose you, too, today, and always.”

Without hesitation Legolas leans in to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s gentle at first. A tender meeting that speaks of mutual respect and deep affection. But as you respond the kiss deepens, becoming a profound expression of your shared love and commitment.

The world around you—the city of Minas Tirith, the sounds of celebration—fades into a blissful quiet. In this moment wrapped in Legolas’s embrace, you realize that while the war might have brought you together it is love that will lead you into your future. Beneath the stars and above the glowing city you share a promise of a thousand sunrises to come. Each one a new day to explore and cherish the world together.

Taglist Sign Up: @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kenn-spencerswifey @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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incorporeal-entity · 14 days ago

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Darkstalker thinks he can rap (he can't)

that damn smirk ...

#wof #wings of fire #darkstalker #darkstalker wof #qibli wof #winter wof #peril wof #peacemaker wof #wof art #rave art #super void vault

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zepskies · 3 months ago

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The Honorable Choice || Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for @jacklesversebingo.

**Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Series Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Racism, angst, violence, protective Dean, eventual smut, perilous situations, fluff and spice, along with other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read: The Spirit Soundtrack

Chapters:

Part 1 - Pride & Prejudice

Part 2 - Death & Sacrifice

Part 3 - Worthy

Series Complete!

Sequel Stories:

Outlander - Series coming soon!

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won?

🎙️ Podcast Fics:

A “podfic” is where you can listen to the story narrated - in this case by my amazing friend Sandra - @talltalesandbedtimestories.

Listen to Part 1 -

Listen to Part 2 -

Listen to Part 3 -

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Jacklesverse Bingo24 Masterlist

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maxiemumdamage · 1 year ago

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I do appreciate that cases in RWBY where a person sends away their backup and allies because those people are weaker as individuals literally never ends well.

Ozpin might have beaten Cinder in the Vault had he not sent Pyrrha and Jaune away. Pyrrha wouldn’t have died on top of the tower had Jaune been there, as he almost certainly would have unlocked his semblance at the sight of her in mortal peril. Cinder wouldn’t have lost to Raven and Vernal in V5 had she waited and brought Emerald and Mercury (or her whole evil squad) with her.

We constantly see characters, especially the mentors or “stronger” ones, keep their supposed allies away from the fight in the interest of protecting them. But in RWBY, that never ends well. Teams exist for a reason, and refusing backup because you see your friends as weaker only ever buys time before they have to face that same enemy alone.

#rwby #rwby analysis #ozpin rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #cinder fall #max.txt

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drarryspecificrecs · 5 months ago

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2024.07 ~ Top 5 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Echoes of the Past by atsaturnday [M, 100k]

►In a post-war wizarding world, Harry Potter, now a struggling Auror, is thrust into a new assignment investigating peculiar incidents linked to the enigmatic Whispering Vault. Reluctantly joining forces with Draco Malfoy, a respected potions master with knowledge of dark magic and arcane artifacts, Harry delves into a world of hidden truths and perilous mysteries. As they unravel the mysteries, their connection grows stronger, filled with stolen glances, lingering touches, and unspoken emotions. It becomes evident to those around them, and even to themselves, that what started as a reluctant partnership has transformed into a love that defies old prejudices and expectations.

2. Letting You In by @emeraldmarvel [M, 97k]

►Ten years after the war, Harry is working in his small Quidditch Supplies and Broom Repair shop, suddenly surprised at how fast the years have gone by. Struggling with the fact that people are still only interested in him for being Harry Potter, he settles into a quiet and comfortable life in his home and a job he loves. However, one day, a little boy who looks like he could be a miniature version of Malfoy, walks into his shop with Pansy Parkinson. Harry is immediately captivated by the little boy who seems to know all about him, and couldn’t have foreseen or imagined the way his life would change when that little boy returns asking him for help.

3. Aevumiter by MarshmalowMilkshake [M, 95k]

►Waking up at 12 Grimmauld Place wouldn't have been something concerning except for a few things. 1. Harry had fallen asleep in the Eighth years' dormitory. 2. He wasn't even in the right bedroom at Grimmauld Place. 3. Sirius Black was standing right in front of him, looking very much alive.

4. Silver Spoon by PrinceMalice [E, 67k]

►Six hours after Tom Riddle’s body had been discovered, the heads of the Families had all convened, waiting for his usurper to make themselves known—to begin a new series of negotiations. Alliances. No one ever stepped forward. No agent of the Ministry claimed the credit. Nobody had seen or heard a thing. He may as well have been struck down by a ghost. Six months later, rumors started circulating that Riddle’s murderer had already been admitted to Azkaban. No matter what strings Draco’s father or others like him had pulled, no one was able to dig up anything more than that. Someone had gone through great lengths to cover the whole thing up. Draco Malfoy takes a fall for his family and is sent to Azkaban. His only hope of getting out is to find and kill the man who murdered the kingpin of the reigning Families, Tom Riddle. He is in for many rude awakenings.

5. before a fall by @eleadore [E, 64k]

►[...] Something is wrong with Draco Malfoy. Harry is nothing if not a creature of habit.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

All That and More by iima_k [T, 10k]

Apophenia by b6p592l11 [T, 12k]

Blue Skies by @vamillepudding [M, 33k]

Dark Ascension by lasnitama [?, 33k]

From the same vine by RIShan [E, 17k]

Graveyard Flowers by LilyOfTheValley [T, 11k]

Je te reverrai by @soliblomst [E, 16k] --- ART by @kk1smet

like it's the only thing i'll ever do by @mintyelbows [T, 11k]

Memories Left Behind by Adora_Slytherin [T, 10k]

Mr Black's House of Botanicals by amomori [E, 10k]

Note Taking for the Impractical and Inexperienced by Lovechraft [M, 23k]

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi [E, 25k]

Rival by @springairs [T, 14k]

Wonderful Anything by @dryrsheet [E, 24k]

Worth It by @youhavemyswordandmybow [E, 21k]

Your Quiet Treason by beggars_visored [T, 10k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Drarry Disability Fest 2024 | @drarrydisabilityfest

Drarry Fans Fellytone

HD Wireless 2024 | @hd-wireless

The Tortured Poets Fest | @thetorturedpoetsfest

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #monthly review #2024

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incorporeal-entity · 9 months ago

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She is my favorite character no other character has vibes this chaotic than Peril

@quotidianish @limepoes @salve-sandwonk

Peril and problem solving

#wings of fire #wof #wof peril #void vault

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emeritusemeritus · 10 months ago

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Haunted [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: Haunted.

Pairing: Eddie MunsonxReader {Acquaintances to lovers?}

Timeline: Set around S4 (no vecna)

Summary: Eddie sees his dream girl once day at the record store, but will he ever be able to find her again?

Warnings: Minor swearing, Eddie’s a little clueless and a little dismissive for a while. A bit of sexism and mentions of stereotypes. Brief mentions of drugs (it’s Eddie). ‘Un-named freak’ is called Ritchie in this story. Use of y/n. POV changes towards the end. Not Beta read nor spellchecked.

Word count: 3.4K

Eddie Munson had always considered himself particularly unlucky in life, wether it be the family he was born in to, the hand he'd be dealt in life or the way he was so often misunderstood by every outsider. But he'd never considered himself cursed, nor haunted; at least not until the 8th of March, 1896.

It was a Saturday, as boring an uneventful as they come, a little drizzly but mild and completely, mind numbingly boring. He'd done a deal earlier that morning and had decided to spend a little of his fresh earnings, hoping the record store would have something new to catch his eye. The Vault was an old independent record store downtown that had suffered greatly during the Starcourt Mall's rule, with RadioShack and Sam Goody's drawing in most of the younger crowds that left business scarce but the older generation, collectors and music fans that favoured minority categories or alternative sounds always found a home at the Vault, such as Eddie Munson. He'd been waiting a week for the Vault to receive a shipment of the new Metallica album Master of Puppets, though Rob the owner had assured him it would be in by Saturday, nearly five days late after the release. Eddie's hands were itching to get hold of a copy after being pumped by the debut album of King Diamond only a month before, but he was more than ready for something new.

He'd planned to meet Gareth at the store downtown and was waiting out by his van, stood leaning against the hood to smoke a joint when he spotted something entirely unheard of for Hawkins.

A girl, dressed in black high waisted pants that were ripped at the knees and a band shirt that looked eerily familiar to him. It was a Judas Priest 'Defenders of the faith' shirt, identifiable by the distinctive red and blue album logo on the front of the shirt, along with the white priest logo on her chest. She had a chain attached to her belt and chunky black boots just incase the shirt wasn't impactful enough.

She was beautiful, her hair flowing down her back with shaggy bangs and some shit around her eyes Eddie didn't understand that made them look sexy as hell. He was floored, frozen and almost drooling as he watched her walk across the sidewalk towards the record store. He cursed Gareth for being late, making a mental note to put his character in mortal peril during his next campaign and felt himself almost drifting across the road to get a chance to talk to her, but stopped himself at the last minute. He thought of how he could 'accidentally' bump into her, no doubt around the metal/ hard rock section of the record store and strike up a conversation but he couldn't think of a single way to make it seem authentic, or to talk about.

He swore out loud when he saw her walk out only a few minutes later with a smile on her face that he was certain would be etched into his memory forever. He was certain he'd never seen her before, a hot chick that was into metal in Hawkins? No way.

If he wasn't already head over heels for the mystery girl already, he was smitten as soon as she pulled away, the distinctive sounds of Metallica blasting through her speakers, the speedy trash metal echoing through her black car and out into the streets of Hawkins getting quieter and quieter as she drives away.

From that moment, he looked everywhere for her at school, around Hawkins but he could never spot her.

"Gotta shoot, got business," he says, standing suddenly and closing his metal 'lunch box' with a reasoning clunk. He hot tails it out of the school cafeteria and begins making his way across the lot, down his regular route towards the tree line when a noise stops him.

Master of Puppets.

He'd know that riff anywhere, he'd been trying to learn it for days now after finally getting a copy from Rob at the vault. His head shoots up like a meerkat on a hill, scrutinising the cars and the bodies littered about the lot to catch a glimpse of you but he's too late. He sees your black car pulling out the lot and onto the dirt road between the schools and drops his head in defeat. How could he have missed you? He'd spent days searching for you, keeping his eyes focused on the people around him, looking for any sign of you. He'd visited family video more times than he ever had in the past incase you'd decided to venture out there, even asking Buckey and Harrington in a round about way wether he'd seen 'the new chick in town'. He'd downplayed it obviously, he wasn't about to start competing with Harrington so he just mentioned you in passing, not mentioning your appearance at all. They'd seen nothing.

Then Henderson barrelled in one day about this new girl he'd been talking to, apparently she was super cool, asked him about his shirt, d&d and had completely outed herself as a nerd, quoting Star Wars back to him. Eddie had felt hope rise up in his chest but his interest quickly faded when Henderson described the girl wearing a pink and white dress with a white long sleeved shirt underneath, definitely not the girl Eddie had been looking for.

It was a game of cat and mouse, though Eddie was definitely losing the game.

Eddie was perplexed, distracted; even more so than usual. So when a figure appeared beside him at the end of Click's Friday morning history class, during which he'd spent the entire time staring off into the distance through the window and not writing a single note, not even pulling out a scrap of paper nor a pen, he jumped out of his skin at the sudden interaction.

"Hi, you're Eddie right?" The girl says a little shyly, drawing his attention away from the window, though he hardly looks up at the new customer.

"£20 for a half ounce bag, I don't sell single joints right now," he says absently and quietly, reaching down for his lunchbox, "Picnic bench out in the clearing at lunch."

"Oh, no, I wasn't," she begins to say, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know what, never mind."

He watches as the girl walks away, reaching for her backpack and shoving in the notebook she was holding. His eyes follow her as she pushes her backpack over one shoulder and walks out of the class without sparing him a final look.

He stews on the stranger interaction until lunch when he gets distracted by the guys arguing over the new girl Henderson had mentioned earlier than week.

"She came right out and quoted A New Hope like it was nothing, I'm telling you she's a secret nerd,"Jeff says, picking at his lunch.

"Like how?" Mike says, half paying attention.

"I asked her how she liked it in Hawkins and where she was from before and she said, and I quote, 'Mos Eisley space port but worse'".

"You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious," Dustin mimics, doing his best Obi-Wan impression, earning a snort from Gareth and a rare smile from Ritchie.

"I'm telling you, she's a total nerd," Jeff smirks, taking a bite of his cafeteria pizza.

"A hot nerd," Gareth adds, earning a nod from Jeff and Ritchie.

"You know she asked me about D&D, maybe we could invite her along for a taster, Eddie?" Dustin says, each of them turning to their leader who was barely paying attention.

"Eddie?" Gareth repeats, finally getting through to Eddie.

"Huh? Oh yeah whatever," Eddie says, clearly having not paid any attention to the conversation happening around him. The group look at each other with various levels of concerned expressions and confusion, wondering where the stood on inviting the new girl.

Dustin, never one to follow the rules, decides to step up and invite the new girl anyway, taking a giant leap that Eddie had technically agreed to it. He catches her between classes and invites her to tonight's campaign, telling her that she wouldn't be able to actually play until she was formally enrolled and created a character sheet but she could watch. To his relief, she agreed with a warm smile and eager nod, making his own smile beam across his face.

"Drama room after school, don't be late, he hates that!"

"Who's this?" Eddie says, when Dustin, Lucas and new girl walk in, spotting the intruder from his place in the throne. It was the same girl from class that had walked up to him without a reason.

"Y/n," Dustin answers casually, walking away and taking his regular seat. "You said she could sit in."

"Did I? Henderson?" Eddie's tone is clipped and his eyes pierce Dustin in a harsh way, not that he notices.

"It's okay, I can go," she says awkwardly from her spot, feeling the weight of rejection settling in. Everyone else had been so friendly but Eddie seemed to want nothing to do with her.

"Nah stay," Eddie says, finally looking in her direction and acknowledging her as a person. She smiles briefly and nods, though it's somewhat forced, still feeling painfully awkward to be where she clearly wasn't wanted. "You sitting down? Just don't interrupt and no questions for now."

"Ok, be straight with me," Eddie says at the end of the session, having told her to stick around afterwards until it was just the two of them. He'd caught sight of her multiple times during the game when she would cheer along with the guys, looked tense in the pets where he lingered for tension and had followed the brief rules he'd laid down dutifully, causing no issues at all. "What's a girl like you want to do with D&D?"

"Girl like me?" She challenges, her right eyebrow raised at the implications of his words.

"Yanno," he says, throwing the last of the equipment into his cardboard box he used to lug the stuff back and forth, "you don't seem the type to be into D&D." He thought of record store girl once again, she would definitely be into d&d, or at least he could convince her to be.

She catches him looking at her cream coloured sweater and blue jeans, his eyes clearly looking at her outfit as to make a point.

"So what, you think there's an angle here? A regular girl can't have an interest in something that isn't Madonna or nail polish? You really have such a low opinion of women?"

"No," he says quickly, turning around to face her as he senses her clipped tone, only to be met with a smirk tugging at the side of her lips and eyebrow still raised. She was goading him.

"Just saying, it's a little unheard of," he says, much more meekly now. He watches as she simply shrugs, offering nothing back.

"I like what I like and I'm not gonna change that for anyone," she says with another shrug, unknowingly earning a multitude of respect from Eddie as he watches her speak. She really was pretty. "Just because I don't think Tom Cruise is the hottest man on the planet and Bananarama didn't change my life doesn't mean I'm not normal, and because I like D&D and shitty horror films I'm not girly enough for society's dumb labels."

She watches as Eddie's smirk forms on his face slowly, his hand extending towards her, "welcome to Hellfire."

It's Wednesday afternoon and the bell has just rang signalling the end of the school day when Eddie waits out by his van, smoking a cigarette and waiting for y/n. They were drawing up her character sheet that night ready for her induction to the club during the next campaign, though she'd have to sit the current one out as they were already more than halfway through. Eddie had nipped back to his trailer to pick up a few of his manuals and spare sheets ready for them to draw up her character and she'd offered for them to go to her house after school to work on it.

Eddie discovered that she was actually pretty cool, as she's started sitting with them at lunch and opening up to the conversations around her. She'd spouted an incredible knowledge of Star Wars a couple of times and had even interjected when Jeff had misspoken about something from The fellowship of the ring, blowing Eddie's mind. He hadn't really looked at her until that night at Hellfire but ever since he'd found himself unable to look away. She was gorgeous, even in her little pink sweaters and fashionable dresses. Though he felt conflicted because as much as he liked y/n, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl at the record store, his dream woman.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, couldn't get away from Robin," she said with a smile, appearing in front of the van by Eddie's side.

"Sure you're good with us going to yours? Your mom won't like totally freak out?" Eddie says with a smirk, crushing his cigarette under his sneakers. The girl huffs out a laugh, ignoring Eddie's claims and pulls open the passenger door before climbing in, wordlessly telling him it would be fine.

"Dad? You home?" She shouts as they walk through the door to her home, having ignored Eddie's compromise of parking a little back from her house, knowing the usual protocol. She's ignored him entirely and told him to park on the drive before flashing him a smile and climbing out.

There's no reply from within the house and Eddie relaxes slightly, glad he wouldn't have to face a set of disgruntled parents that inevitably thought he was corrupting their sweet daughter, pink skirt and all.

"You want a drink?" She asks, guiding him into the kitchen. "Coke, beer, Mountain Dew? Oh crap I left my shit upstairs, you wanna do it there?"

Seeing Eddie's slightly startled look, she burst out laughing, realising what she'd said. "I meant the character sheets Munson."

"Oh yeah, yeah," he says, slightly tapping his foot and letting out a laugh that sounds inauthentic even to his own ears. He didn't know what was happening to him. Sure she was pretty, more than pretty but being alone with her like this made him almost painfully nervous.

"Gonna stand there all night?" She quips, noticing him stood exactly where she'd left him after making her way to the stairs. He suddenly catches on and follows her, nervously clutching his cold can of coke and ascending the plain white staircase, mentally cursing himself to get a grip.

He hadn't been in a girls bedroom before, he felt a little weird about it. Would it be cute and flowery? Stuffies and dolls littering the place? His room was a self-proclaimed disaster with more clutter than he could deal with, messy and a little dingy, but it did the job.

"Holy fuck," he says as he steps into the room, following you absently through the wooden doorway as your room comes into view.

Posters of various bands line the walls, ticket stubs and little trinkets dotted around, noticing guitar picks tacked onto the wall near the stubs. There's an honest to god ramskull on the wall above the bed and your vinyl and tape collection is seriously impressive. There's a Jaws poster one side and a similarly impressive book collection near a wooden desk near where you stood. There's a black acoustic guitar on a stand near your closet and an array of black shirts on a shelf nearby.

But then he spots it, a Judas Priest shirt thrown over the chair near the desk- the defenders of the faith shirt that he'd seen his dream woman wearing outside the vault. His eyes flick up to a Judas priest poster on the wall, a creased and slightly ratted up poster that illustrates the show as Madison Square Garden , June 18th 1984- the same one as what was on your shirt.

"You're hot girl?" Eddie turns around, mouth agape and wide eyes roaming across your body.

"What?" You say completely confused at his reaction, thinking nothing of it as you stepped over to your desk to gather the mock character sheets you'd been working on to show him.

"You were at the Vault last week? You got Master of Puppets?" He says frantically, stepping towards you.

"You've been stalking me?" You say curiously, watching him have a mini freak out.

"That was you? But you had ripped jeans and the boots," he rambles, unable to piece the parts together of his own mental puzzle.

Suddenly, you laugh and realise what's happening. You walk over to your closet and pull open the doors, noticing Eddie was watching your every move.

"These?" You ask, pulling out your black Doc Martens, the platform style you'd been wearing when you visited the record store.

"Holy shit, holy shit," Eddie says, staring at the boots that had been imprinted into his mind since he'd seen you last time as he falls back to sit on your bed. "But."

"The clothes?" You say with a smile, understanding why he was so confused. He nods gently, looking around the room still with a moderate sense of confusion, before his eyes fall to you again. You smile and take a seat beside him on the bed, trying not to confuse him more.

"When we moved from New York, mom thought it would be best if I tried to blend in, said that small towns like these don't accept people like us very much. Dad gets away with it because of his job but even my mom started fancying her self up a little more, putting on a show I guess so the small town folk wouldn't gossip," you explain. "So she went out and bought these monstrosities," you say gesturing to the cream coloured sweater you wore. "Only thing is that it's Indiana and it's hot as balls, which sucks when you can't show your arms."

"Wh-." Eddie begins to question but you already anticipate this and begin to pull off your sweater, thankful you were wearing a black tank top underneath.

Eddie's mouth falls open even wider, his eyes bulging as he looks upon your revealed skin, seeing the tattoos that litter your arms, intricate designs and art flowing across your body.

"That explain it?" You say with a gentle laugh. His face is a picture and you wished that you could have taken a photo to keep the memory forever. You reach up to your hair and pull away the clips holding in your bangs and pull down your scrunchie, throwing it across the room before tussling your hair to fall back in place.

It really was you, his dream girl.

"That day, in Click's class," he says, piecing more of the puzzle together.

"I wanted to ask you about Hellfire," you reply, looking up from under your lashes at him, now that his face had returned to normal and mouth no longer agape.

"I was a dick," he says guiltily, his brows pulling together slightly.

"Eh," you shrug, "you weren't to know."

"I judged you like an idiot, when all this time you've been right here under my nose."

He leans in slowly, and you follow his direction until your lips are touching. It’s soft and sweet and absolutely perfect as you feel his soft lips against yours, a playfulness and a shyness to the kiss.

It falls silent for a few moments after you pull apart with shy smiles, but it's not uncomfortable in any way.

"You really saw Priest in '84?" He asks, looking between the shirt and the poster on the wall. You laugh, throwing yourself on the bed to get comfy, pleased that he was feeling more comfortable now as he follows you down to lie beside you on the bed, character sheets forgotten beside you.

"Yeah at the Garden, you know they got banned for life after the show? It was crazy, everyone was ripping up the seats! Very metal."

“Very metal.”

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson taglist #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson #Hellfire club

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drarryspecificrecsdaily · 6 months ago

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2024.07.13

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Echoes of the Past by atsaturnday [M, 100k]

2. In The End by sadbibarnes [T, 1k]

►A silly truth-or-dare pact that leads to the inevitable

3. Memories Left Behind by Adora_Slytherin [T, 10k]

►Draco Malfoy dies at the Battle of Hogwarts. Then Harry recieves a letter and two vials of memories left behind by Draco. What follows changes Harry's life forever.

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Us, infinite (unfortunately) by Anonymous [E, 77k]

►It’s very fitting for how Harry’s life has gone thus far that he gets trapped in a time loop without rhyme, reason, or warning. To make matters infinitely worse, the one other person stuck on the same hellish chronological ride is Draco Malfoy, git extraordinaire. ★ HD Wireless 2024 | @hd-wireless

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #daily list #2024 #2024.07

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heygirltimeformorning · 1 month ago

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sometimes @playinginthunderstorms and I write chatfic to each other as bedtime stories, or just as “here hope you feel better” stories, and yesterday, I wrote Charlie a little hurt/comfort at her request, and I thought the Tumblr might enjoy.

It’s chatfic so it’s a little rough around the edges, and I paid my usual close attention to canon (read: none at all) in writing it.

warnings for Buck getting hit by a car (nothing graphic) and Eddie spiraling about it. Also, if you’re here for porn, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.

It’s tooth-rottingly sweet at the end, so proceed with caution.

These kinds of calls, Eddie thinks, are supposed to happen in the middle of the night. That’s what happens in the movies — it’s dark, everyone is in bed, it’s quiet, and there’s a phone ringing that pierces through the quiet. Or, it’s the wash of red and blue lights over the living room, no sirens. Somehow, whoever is getting the news already knows, like the fabric of the universe shifts when their person is in mortal peril. The point is, it’s supposed to happen in the middle of the night.

That’s how, when Eddie is torturing himself late at night with scenarios of losing Buck (he doesn’t let himself think about Buck Like That in the light of day, that feels too honest, but at night, when he’s alone? that’s how he’s thinking of Buck, always), it happens. The reality, though, is that it’s an ordinary Wednesday. It’s their day off. Buck was going to go to the gym, and then he was going to come over and they were going to paint the kitchen. Eddie’s already got the supplies out and a pizza on the way, because Buck had texted him leaving the gym and that meant Eddie had 20 minutes to be ready.

Buck had text him at 12:47pm, and Eddie doesn’t get worried until it’s 2 — a full hour after his text — because it’s LA and who knows what kind of traffic Buck ran into. He does text him a couple times, but Buck has a strict no-texting-while-driving policy, so if he’s stuck in traffic, of course he wouldn’t be answering text messages. Eddie tells himself it’s fine. He talks himself off of several ledges. He paces. He pulls up Taylor Kelly’s traffic report. She reports that traffic is moving as it should be. Something greasy settles into the pit of Eddie’s stomach.

He breaks down and calls Buck at 2:19. Maybe he’s stopped to pick up something he was craving and gotten distracted in the snack aisle. That’s happened before - it’s very on brand for Buck. His phone goes straight to voicemail.

Eddie talks himself through so many scenarios. Buck’s phone had died. His phone had been stolen, and Buck was trying to deal with that and couldn’t call Eddie. Buck’s phone has glitched and isn’t letting Eddie’s calls through.

He calls Buck 17 times between 2:19 and 2:34. Then he calls Bobby, who doesn’t answer, so he calls Maddie, who also doesn’t answer, and then he calls Hen, who does answer, right as Eddie’s call-waiting beeps. He checks it, heart in his throat, and it’s an unknown number. Something tells him to answer. “I’ll call you back,” he tells Hen, and barely waits for her confused “o-okay” before he switches over to the new call. It’s Athena, but the thing is, Eddie has Athena’s number. She’d be calling him on her cell unless — unless —

“Eddie,” she says, and her voice is gentle in a way Eddie’s never heard it before. Eddie’s face is numb. He can’t feel his lips.

“Buck,” he says, and Athena asks if he’s alone. He is. Eddie’s the most alone he’s ever been in his entire life.

Athena tells him to sit down. He’s, somehow, already sitting, on the floor, his back against the couch, but at Athena’s next words, he’s up, off the floor, fumbling keys off the key ring with numb fingers, because Athena says “He’s on his way to Cedars-Sinai, just wait there, I’ll come get you,” but Eddie’s already out the door, vaulting himself into his truck, slamming it into gear and pealing out of his driveway. Athena is still on the phone, but Eddie can’t hear anything but his pulse in his ears. It’s sunny - it’s a brilliant LA day, sunshine and palm trees, and not a cloud in the sky. This is the kind of weather people move to LA for — and it’s wrong, all of it, because if Buck’s —but he can’t let himself go there. not yet. He’ll see what they say at the hospital. He’ll figure it out there. He’ll figure it out. At least Chris isn’t here, at least Chris doesn’t have to witness this, at least Eddie can soften it, a little, control the delivery. That’s a trick from Frank - to look for the silver linings. It makes him feel sick.

Athena meets him at the doors of the ER, hands out, like she’s trying to tame a wild horse. Eddie vaguely registers that Bobby’s there, too, eyes wide in his face. “Eddie, Eddie,” she says, catching him by his shoulders as he tries to rocket past her into the lobby. Through the doors, to Buck. “Eddie, listen to me,” she says, and there’s something maternal enough in her voice that Eddie looks down at her.

Despite Athena’s words, it’s Bobby who speaks, one hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We can’t see him yet,” he says, sure and steady, and how is Bobby so calm how is the rest of the world still spinning when Buck is — is —

“What happened?” Eddie finally asks, and Athena tilts her head towards the doors of the ER.

“Let’s go in, let’s sit down,” she says, words measured. “Give Bobby your keys, he’ll park your truck. Come on.” Eddie lets Bobby take his keys, lets Athena guide him into the lobby, back — back—

It’s the rooms they put families in when it’s bad. When they have to call the chaplain and the doctor has to come in. Like in the movies, the solemn doctor in the mask and the surgical cap we did everything we could.

“Breathe, Eddie. This is just because cops make people nervous,” Athena says, steering him to one of the chairs. “Sit.” He sits. There’s a bottle of water in his hands, and Athena’s next to him, her hand on his shoulder. “He was leaving the gym,” she says, “walking across the parking lot.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. He thinks of Shannon in her yellow shirt, of having to make the hardest choice of his entire life. He wants a s’more, suddenly, oddly. “Breathe.” Athena’s voice in his ear. “Take a drink of water.”

“What happened?” Eddie asks again, and Athena sighs. There’s a weight next to him, a warm hand on his other shoulder. Bobby.

“There was a kid on a skateboard, in the street,” Athena says, “shouldn’t have been there. But his skateboard got caught on a pothole, sent him sprawling. Buck ran over there to help, straight into — into oncoming traffic.”

Eddie can’t breathe, because all he can think about is yellow shirts and s’mores. He can’t feel his hands. His lips are numb. Buck wouldn’t do that. Buck was careful, now, more careful than he used to be, after the lightning. He was reckless, but not in the same way - he wouldn’t run into oncoming traffic, unless. Unless. Unless someone needed help. That was the thing about Buck - everyone else came first, all the time.

Athena’s hand is warm on his back, sliding down off his shoulder. “The 126 responded,” she says quietly. “The paramedics said — they don’t know obviously, but they said he was stable, when they left the scene with him.” But Eddie knows. Eddie knows that stable can change between one breath and the next, and that stable just means ‘alive’ and alive is kind of a spectrum.

Bobby and Athena are talking to each other — coordinating calls. Eddie lets the words slide off and around him, pays attention to the rush of blood in his ear, and thinks about silver linings.

It's barely thirty minutes before the doctor comes to find them, a clipboard in his hands. Maddie and Chim have gotten there, and so has Hen. Karen, bless her, has Jee, Mara, and Denny. The doctor starts by saying that Buck is incredibly lucky — that he has a concussion, but no spinal injuries, no brain damage, nothing that can’t be repaired with surgery and some rehab, and Eddie takes the first full breath he’s had since 2pm. The doctor follows up what he calls the good news with the list of injuries Buck has - an arm broken in three places, a torn rotator cuff, a broken hip, a compound femur fracture, a tibia fibula fracture, a nasty concussion, and a wicked case of road rash. He explains that Buck is headed for surgery, but if they want to see him before he goes back, he’s awake.

The room is dim - the lights turned down - and Buck’s certainly had better days. One side of his face is raw with road rash, and Eddie thinks “awake” is a bit of an overstatement, because Buck opens his eyes, sees Eddie in the doorway, and says “I’m glad you’re here” before leaning his head back against the pillows and promptly going to sleep. But it’s sleep, it’s not death, and something unknots in Eddie’s chest. It’s hard to know where to touch Buck — one arm is in a protective sling and the other is raw with road rash — so Eddie settles for a hand on top of Buck’s head and says “I’m glad I’m here, too.” He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Athena quietly hands him a tissue, and rests a gentle hand on his shoulder.

By the time Buck is out of surgery, it’s late. Eddie still hasn’t told Chris - not like he’d text him back anyway - and it’s too late to text him once Buck’s settled in his room and resting quietly. It’s just him and Buck — he can’t bring himself to leave, to let Buck be by himself. It’s nearly 4 in the morning, and Eddie has dozed off in the chair next to Buck’s, his head resting on his arms, folded on the bed, when Buck stirs, a grimace ghosting over his face, lifting one arm and resting it on the back of Eddie’s head.

Eddie sits up with a grimace of his own, back stiff, Buck’s hand falling to the bed. Eddie rests a hand over Buck’s wrist, feels the steady thud of his pulse under his fingers. Buck’s eyes slide open, meet Eddie’s. “Time’s’it?” he asks, and the scrape of his voice against his dry throat has Eddie reaching for the water the nurse had left, holding the straw to Buck’s lips.

“Late,” Eddie says in response to Buck’s question. “Or — early, maybe, depending.” He sets the water aside, and then he’s looking at Buck and Buck’s looking at him, gaze heavy and half-lidded. “Buck—“ he says, but then the nurse is coming in with the rattle of a vitals cart and medication.

Buck’s half-asleep once the nurse is finished with her middle-of-the-night tasks, and in the dim of the hospital room, with Buck mostly asleep but whole and real in front of him, the rules Eddie holds himself to all the time don’t feel as real. He tells himself that it’s reassurance he needs when he rests a hand on the top of Buck’s head, smooths his thumb over Buck’s birthmark. Buck’s eyes slide open and he turns into Eddie’s touch. “Eddie,” he says, voice thick and heavy with sleep and medication and the concussion.

“Yeah, cowboy?” Eddie says quietly, but Buck’s eyes are sliding closed and he’s asleep in the space between one breath and the next.

It’s a full 24-hours before Buck can have an actual conversation. Eddie’s still in the clothes he was going to paint in. He can’t bring himself to leave, despite everyone trying to coax him to go home and shower and change. Eddie ignores them. He can’t leave, because the second he leaves, he knows all he’s going to be able to think about is Shannon and Buck and the universe being determined to take away the people he loves the most. The universe may not scream, but apparently it has it out for anyone Eddie Diaz loves.

Pretty much the entire right side of Buck’s body — the side the car hit — is smashed into pieces, and Buck is, unfortunately, right handed, which makes everything more difficult. After the fourth time Buck dumps a spoonful of jello into his lap, thanks to a clumsily coordinated left hand, Eddie takes the spoon. “You’re wearing more than you’re getting in your mouth, buddy,” he says dryly. “And you’ve already spilled enough to get the nurse to give you a sponge bath, if that was your goal. Open up — don’t make me make the plane noises.”

Buck grumbles his way through being fed — literally — and Eddie teases him the whole time — I should be taking videos for Chris or I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner, I feel like we could have saved that one white shirt you lost to the lasagna. “Buck,” he says, after they’re finished, because Buck seems more alert now, and Buck looks over at him. “I know — I know we’ve talked about putting yourself in danger.”

“This wasn’t me putting myself in danger,” Buck says immediately, because he may not remember the accident itself, but Athena had filled him in and, after being reassured that the kid was fine, Buck had said well no harm no foul and Eddie’s been turning that over in his head over and over ever since.

Because this had been harm. Buck hadn’t died — thankfully. By some miracle, he had survived, but to say no harm when Buck is in a hospital bed unable to even feed himself felt wrong. “You ran into traffic, Buck,” Eddie says. “You didn’t even — you ran into traffic. In LA, that could be considered suicidal.”

Buck frowns. “Eddie, I’m not—“ he starts, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I know you wouldn’t,” Eddie says. “I know that’s not what you were thinking. But Buck, you weren’t thinking. You still think you’re — expendable. Like you’re only worth what you are to other people.” Eddie pauses. Let’s that settle, because he means that, and he’s edging closer to something that feels a little too true to be said out loud — that Buck is everything to him, that Chris and Buck are the most important people in his life.

“Eddie, I couldn’t just … leave him,” Buck says, and there’s something a little hurt in it, and Eddie sighs, because he knows. He knows. Buck will set himself on fire to keep others warm — will literally run into oncoming traffic to help someone.

“But you almost left me,” Eddie says, very quietly. It’s scary. It’s terrifying, even, to put it out there like that. To think of him and Buck as a unit, something that can be pulled apart, that he’s important enough in Buck’s life to be left. “Buck, I — I couldn’t —“ he thinks back to it, those moments building up to Athena’s call, the drive to the hospital, sitting in a waiting room, not knowing where on the “alive” spectrum Buck fell. There’s something untethered in those moments - the not knowing, like drowning on dry land.

Buck’s so still and so quiet at Eddie’s words that for a minute, Eddie thinks he’s fallen asleep. He looks up at him, and Buck’s just watching him, like Eddie’s just announced he has an evil twin. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, and Eddie wipes at his eyes, because he’s crying, suddenly.

“Chris needs you,” Eddie says, and that’s true, but what he means is I need you. “I thought I was going to have to call him and tell him you were dead, Buck,” he adds. He doesn’t say for a minute I thought you were dead and I couldn’t breathe but he does reach out and squeeze Buck’s wrist, fingers against his pulse. “You have to think of yourself like — like I do,” he says finally, and Buck nods, once.

Eddie almost says it then, can feel it, right on the tip of his tongue, I love you and Buck’s looking at him, and if this has taught Eddie anything, it’s that tomorrow might be too late — but then the nurse is there, and the moment shatters between them. Instead, Eddie makes a joke about sponge baths, and steps out to get a cup of coffee, and thinks about being in love with his best friend.

Buck comes home with Eddie, because of course he does. Maddie initially tries to insist he comes home with her, but Buck gives Eddie help me eyes while Maddie is talking about him coming home with her, and he steps in, and says, really, it’ll be easier for Buck to come home with him, because the house is already set up for someone with mobility issues (Chris) and with Chris not currently there, Eddie would appreciate the company. It isn’t a lie, and when Buck says “yeah, Mads, I’ll just go home with Eddie,” Maddie throws up her hands and says fine, have it your way but there’s a fondness in her exasperation.

It takes an act of god and congress to get Buck into the house, and he half collapses on the couch, leaning his head back with a groan. “The doctors are just going to have to come here,” he says, “because I’m not leaving again until I can actually walk.” Something warm blooms in Eddie’s chest at Buck’s inadvertent admission that this is his home — because it is, it is his home — and he lines the medication bottles up on the counter, fixing Buck something to eat. Buck smiles at him when he brings him the food, setting the plate where Buck can reach it and busying himself fussing with Buck’s pillows. “You aren’t going to feed me this time?” Buck asks, amused, and Eddie says it without thinking, tucking a pillow under Buck’s knee: “maybe I want to give you a sponge bath.” He freezes, and Buck freezes, and Eddie eventually straightens up slowly, resting his hands on his hips. Buck’s just kind of staring straight ahead, blue eyes a little wide, and Eddie clears his throat.

There’s a long silence, and then Buck adjusts his position on the couch and clears his throat. “I did want to ask,” he says carefully, while Eddie’s standing there, his brain blue screening, “if you’d help me shave.” He looks up at Eddie through his lashes, and Eddie swallows heavily. It shouldn’t read as flirting. It isn’t flirting, it can’t be. But it does. It would have been less sexually charged if Buck had asked Eddie to suck his cock.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, voice a little rough. “Yeah, bud- buddy. I can. I can do that.” He rubs a hand through his hair. Buck is here because he needs help, because he’s been hit by a car and half of him is smashed to pieces.

The thing about shaving Buck is that, aside from straddling him, there’s really no perfect angle to shave him. Of course, Eddie’s not going to straddle Buck (he’s not) but he does spend a good five minutes circling Buck, trying to find the best angle. They settle on Buck sitting in one of the dining room chairs, eyes closed as Eddie rubs the shaving cream into Buck’s skin, and Eddie’s so close, he could kiss him. Buck’s eyelashes are long and soft against his cheek, and his mouth is very slightly open, and he’s so beautiful it hurts.

Eddie has been aware of his feelings for Buck. He doesn’t typically allow himself to feel them, except for when he’s alone and it’s dark in his house. Buck had been in a relationship, and then Buck had been recovering from a relationship, and Eddie didn’t particularly care to detonate a bomb in his life by confessing undying love. So to scrape the razor against Buck’s face and think about how beautiful he is, it’s not new. Not in the thinking anyway, it’s just that Buck is very rarely (read: never) sitting in front of him when he allows himself to have those thoughts. He rinses the razor, rests his thumb on Buck’s cheek, pulls the skin taught, and he thinks he imagines it for a moment, the turn of Buck’s face into his touch, like they’re magnets, like Buck is touch-starved.

But he isn’t imagining it, because it happens again when Eddie half-cups Buck’s face to tilt his head and scrape the razor against his jaw. Buck turns into Eddie’s touch, like a cat, and his eyes are closed, and it can’t be intentional, right? There’s no way. But Eddie slides his fingers into the curls behind Buck’s ear, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and Buck inhales, so quietly Eddie almost misses it, and leans back into Eddie’s touch. Eddie smooths his thumb up Buck’s cheek, and it’s not anything related to shaving anymore, it’s just touch, and then Buck’s eyes open and Eddie isn’t moving. They’re inches apart, Eddie still holding the razor with his free hand, but close enough that all it would take is a lean in from either of them and they’d be kissing. “Eddie,” Buck breathes, and Eddie thinks about the moment he’d thought Buck was dead, when Athena had asked if he was sitting down. Because Eddie’s been through it before: the loss. The way it washes through you, the way you think you’re coming to the end of it, only to find a brand new wave of hurt. He knows what it feels like, to lose. And yet. Losing Shannon felt like losing a limb: survivable. Painful, yes. Unimaginable, of course. But survivable, ultimately. Losing Buck felt like having his heart cut out, something he could not survive. A total loss. Something that would kill him.

It makes him brave. It makes him willing to risk, because he’d thought — for a moment, for a handful of moments — that Buck had died without knowing how Eddie felt. He owes Buck the truth — he owes it to him to be brave. So he sets the razor down, and Buck tracks the movement, blue eyes following the razor to the table, and then flickering back to Eddie’s eyes. Eddie wipes the residual shaving cream from Buck’s face, sets the washcloth aside, and then he cups Buck’s face in both of his hands — gently, but insistently — and he closes the space between them, sealing his lips against Buck’s.

Buck doesn’t react at first. His lips are soft and dry under Eddie’s and then he sucks in a very quiet breath and kisses Eddie back. When the kiss breaks, Buck looks like he might say something, but Eddie shakes his head. “I need to say something,” he says. “And — I need to get through this in one go.” Buck’s eyes are wide and blue on his, and Eddie’s heart squeezes. “Athena called me,” Eddie says, “and told me you’d been hurt. I couldn’t — breathe, Buck, I thought you were dead. I thought. I thought you had died, and when I thought you’d died, do you know what I thought about? That — I couldn’t be in a world where you didn’t — where I hadn’t told you how I felt. How I feel.” He braces himself, looking Buck dead-on. “I’m in love with you, Buck. I’ve been in love with you for a long time — at least a year. Maybe more. Being in love with you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done — and when I thought you — when I thought you were dead, Buck, I couldn’t breathe. You’re one of the two most important people in my life, and I love you.”

Buck is quiet, watching Eddie crack open his heart and pour it out, and when Eddie stops talking, Buck is crying, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Eddie,” he breathes, and Eddie leans in to kiss him again. They’re kissing and, in between kisses, Buck is gasping it out — I love you, I love you, I love you — soft and precious and built to last.

#Buddie fic #Eddie x Buck #hurt/comfort #Eddie Diaz #hurt/comfort fic #Evan Buck Buckley

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