#sweet fluffy goodness

[dominimoonbeam]

The Other Way - Part 2

I loved the first part so much that I couldn’t leave it alone. David/Angel are precious and I’m so happy @ejunkiet gave me this meet cute idea!!

Part One.

tags for part two: a very gentle kidnapping, fear of memory wipe, injured snappy davey, feelings

The Other Way - Part 2

When Angel woke up, they were in the backseat of a big truck, their cheek pressed into a thick arm and their body slumped to the side.

Music from the stereo filtered through their senses along with the voices arguing in low tones.

“If they were missing, then someone’s got to be looking for them.”

“Should we let someone know we found them?”

“And then what? Hand them over to explain how some wolves turned into guys and saved them? No, Ash.”

Everything came back to them. The woods, the wolf, the man that was a wolf, the actual wolves, more fucking wolves, and then… fainting. “Oh fuck,” they pushed off the wall they’d been snuggled up against, realizing too late that it was David.

They blinked up at him. He had the prettiest frowny face… They almost told him but then realized they’d drooled on his shirt and blushed instead. He rolled his eyes and looked away. “You’re the worst,” he mumbled, still obviously in pain.

They rubbed the patch of drool they’d left on his shirt. “At least it wasn’t your busted arm…”

Asher laughed in the front passenger seat.

David groaned and closed his eyes. “Surrounded by jokers.”

Angel leaned forward and tried to get a look around. Trees whipped by outside. They were on that awful winding, narrow road back to Dahlia. They reached automatically for their phone only to feel a jolt of panic when they found their pockets empty and realized they didn’t have their backpack either. There hadn’t really been much left in it but still! Leaving it behind was littering, not to mention their favorite backpack.

“Calm down,” David said without opening his eyes.

Asher held up their bag in the front seat. “Don’t worry. We got everything.”

Angel exhaled relief and reached for it.

Asher shook his head and put it back down on the floor at his feet, well out of reach.

“You’ll get it back eventually,” Milo said from behind the wheel.

Angel blinked, looking between the two in the front. “Am… Am I being kidnapped?”

Milo snorted. “Technically, you would already be kidnapped at this point if that’s what was happening.”

“But yeah, kind of,” Asher said.

David and Milo both groaned. “Ash!”

Asher lifted his hands in surrender. “I mean, no reason to lie to them too.”

 -

 David’s head was splitting. His arm was broken and his whole body ached. He hoped it was the only thing broken, but he wouldn’t put money on it. He wanted to get healed and go to bed. The last thing he wanted was a funny roadtrip adventure with Asher and this stranger from the woods.

“We’ll head for the department. They’ll have a healer and we can get a head start on the paperwork for this mess.” He pushed a thumb back at the unempowered human sitting behind him. “They can wipe their memory and drop them at the human hospital.”

It was the smart plan. The right plan. But David saw the way Angel’s eyes went wide and heard their pulse jump in panic. Their whole body tensed up, one hand grabbing at their seatbelt and twisting nervously. “Wipe my memory?”

They were scared. Really scared. And he realized it was the first time he’d seen them scared since the other wolves. They hadn’t really been scared when they were lost, and even less so when they found a giant injured wolf. They hadn’t been scared at nightfall or in the morning when they still weren’t found. They had been…hopeful and stubbornly optimist. Worse, this fear was aimed at him. He was scaring them.

“Aw, don’t worry,” Asher said, twisting around in his seat to look at the human. “It won’t hurt and you’ll be back to your normal life like none of this happened.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Angel asked, a desperate strain sneaking into their voice, like something was tightening inside their chest.

David didn’t like this.

And he didn’t like the way it made his instincts feel ragged.

Milo snorted in the front seat. “Just sit back and relax,” he said and then frowned at Asher next to him. “And you, sit your ass down and buckle up!”

Asher ignored him, chin on the headrest. “It’s going to be okay,” he tried again.

Angel twisted the seatbelt against their chest. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear. Just drop me off and I’ll get home on my own.”

Asher frowned.

Something in David’s chest hurt and it wasn’t his ribs. He didn’t like the pleading smallness of their voice. He didn’t like the way fear was staining their scent.

“Please,” Angel tried again, unshed tears shining in their eyes. “I promise.” They looked to David with naked fear. “I won’t tell. Just forget you saw me.”

David couldn’t think before the words came out. “Okay. Shut up.”

Angel snapped their mouth shut. It would have been comical if it weren’t for the one tear that bounced off their lashes.

David groaned and leaned his head back. Asher was staring at him.

“Milo, drive us to my place and call your mom.”

Milo watched him in the rearview mirror.

Asher broke the stretch of silence by stage whispering to Milo, “I think he has a head injury…”

Milo nodded imperceptibly.

David groaned and closed his eyes. “Then Marie can heal it and we’ll go from there.”

Angel leaned forward in increments, like they thought he wouldn’t notice, reaching out and gesturing for Asher to pass them their backpack.

“Don’t,” David said without opening his eyes. “No phone for the human for now.”

Angel didn’t argue or make anymore remarks about being kidnapped. He was pretty sure they were still working under the assumption that their stay of mind wiping was contingent on shutting up. He let himself fall asleep, wondering how long they’d actually stay quiet.

The answer was actually a little over an hour, until they’d gotten back to Dahlia and both of them woke up again.

“Am I still being kidnapped?” Angel asked, voice quiet like if they whispered it wouldn’t count.

David bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling, forcing a stern frown instead. “Yes.”

Angel nodded, like they had suspected it and it wasn’t so bad. “If I’m going to be kidnapped all night, can I just call to let people know they don’t need to look for me?” they whispered quickly.

Asher was grinning. Milo rolled his eyes and parked in front of David’s building.

David growled lowly.

Angel put up their hands and sat back. “Yep. Sorry.” They did the zipper motion in front of their mouth.

“Your instincts are the worst,” he griped. “First you tried to feed and pet a wild animal.”

“I didn’t try…”

“And now you think you’re kidnapped but going along with it.”

“David…” Milo said in a gently warning tone.

“Should I kick and scream?” Angel asked.

Asher laughed, getting out of the truck and then opening David’s door. He didn’t move right away though, glaring at Angel instead. “If you were actually being kidnapped? Fuck yes! You’re in a car with three men twice your size—”

“Three times at least for you…” Angel muttered.

“And we’re going to take you upstairs to my apartment and you’re just going to toddle along with us?”

“David…” Milo again.

Angel blinked across the backseat at him. They were dirty and tired, circles under their eyes and hair a mess, but somehow they still looked so open. “Are you saying you’re going to assault me?”

David physically recoiled at the idea, a growl deep in his chest. “No. Of course we aren’t!” His ribs ached but fuck his ribs.

Milo had killed the engine and gotten out, opening the door on Angel’s side. He reached in and grabbed their arm, like they might make a run for it. David snapped off a quick snarl without thinking, leaning deeper into the cab, toward Angel and Milo. He almost reached out, almost grabbed this unempowered human to pull them away from Milo.

Milo’s eyes went big. He let go of Angel almost as quickly as he’d laid a hand on them, palm open and up like proof.

Angel blinked at David and then smiled slowly. “…You like me.”

David blinked back, realizing what he’d done, and groaned. “Fuck you.” He turned to get out of the car, finding it a lot harder than he’d expected.

On the sidewalk, Asher waved Angel out of the cab too and led them inside the apartment building. “You know, you’re my first kidnappee,” he said, wearing their backpack. It looks absurdly small and bright on him.

Angel looked up at him, cheeks still streaked in tears and dirt, but beaming. “Really?” They sounded excited.

Insane. They were both insane.

Milo stood close by.

David winced. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why… I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” He knew Milo wasn’t going to hurt Angel. He knew Milo wouldn’t hurt anyone who didn’t definitely have it coming.

Milo shook his head and stepped closer.

“Really, Milo. I’m sorry. And you’re right about what we should have done but I just…” He looked at the building where Asher and Angel had gone. “I can’t.”

Milo nodded and waited.

David sighed and tried to take a step away from the car, having to stop and will his legs not to give out. He needed help. His whole body hurt in a way that was seriously threatening to drop him on the pavement. He lifted his good arm and Milo stepped into his side, like that was exactly what he’d been waiting for—like he’d known there was no way David would make it to the door on his own but being Milo, he wasn’t going to point it out.

Milo easily took his weight and walking him inside. “So… do you really have a head injury or are you into this human?”

David groaned. “I don’t know. Hopefully a head injury…”

Milo huffed a laugh, hitting the button for the elevator. “You had us scared, you know…”

David looked at Milo, wondering if he was still talking about the human and his bad choices surrounding them. No, that wasn’t it. He meant the fall and disappearing for a night in the woods. David sighed and begrudgingly admitted, “They might have saved me.”

Milo glanced up at him on the elevator like he expected it to be a joke, sobering when he realized it wasn’t.

They’d given him water and food.

They’d howled.

That was how Milo and Asher had found him.

Milo nodded and half-carried David down the hall to his apartment, Asher standing in the open doorway and talking to Angel about David’s video game selection.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t let them touch my shit!” David groused.

Asher pouted. “Oh come on, big guy, we can’t kidnap them and not give them anything to do.”

“Stop saying we kidnapped them,” he growled in a whisper. Someone was going to overhear them and call the police. Although, with Angel’s survival skill deficiency, they’d probably lie to the cops if they knocked on the door.

David would have definitely chosen to stretch out on his bed if it weren’t for Angel on his couch. He settled in the corner and put his legs up on that arm of the sectional.

Angel was on the floor going through his games. “Jesus, these are all awful.”

Asher snorted.

“Fuck you,” David ground out, letting his heavy lids drag shut.

Milo was on the phone with his mom in the other room.

“Ash, water,” David mumbled.

Asher jumped to, in the kitchen and back in a flash. He held out a bottle of water to David.

David blinked at it and then frowned and shook his head, pushing Asher’s arm in the direction of the human.

Asher grinned and David pointedly closed his eyes again.

“Oh, thanks!” Angel chimed when Asher offered them the water.

David listened to them gulp it down and felt something deep in his core ease a little

Angel’s stomach rumbled.

David sighed. “Ash…Order food.”

“On it!”

David almost fell asleep listening to Asher order an incredible quantity of food. And then he realized Angel had scooted over to sit on the floor beside him, wedged against the corner of the couch, their shoulder to his hip. “Thanks,” they said softly. “I promise, I really won’t tell anyone.”

David sighed, resisting the strong urge to touch them.

Marie got there sooner than the food, and to David’s dismay, he did not have a head injury.

He did have two broken ribs, a broken arm, and an unempowered human with a direct line to pull at his heart.

Marie could only heal the bones.

[spnj2fanlw]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki Additional Tags: Schmoop, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Meet-Cute, Domestic, Mpreg Summary:

Jensen had a good life. He did. He just... knew something was missing. A chance meeting in a watch shop showed Jensen exactly what that was.

[windydrawallday]

WING HOLD

[Part I] & [Part II] And that's it! Extra fluff happy ending 💙✈️❤️️

Even if recycling panels, for my first sequence done with TFs characers is quite an achievement on its own!

Shame to say though: I probably can't make new art in time as planned (I got recent important stuff to deal with irl) but you know what? I enjoyed a ton sharing and looking back at old art. And remember that it can be old for me but fresh for all of you who have never seen it before! And I'm super happy it brought smiles to each one of you: thanks for the support 💞💞💞

And please: if you are still hungry for MORE art of this pairing, I suggest checking @skystarweek 's tumblr blog, socials, and tag. There's lots of amazing art poured for what lasts of the event (and even cool art from past events you can support) so, go on and give them some love!!

[thecatcrew]

This is my favorite picture of Nyla & Buttercup together 🥹🥹🥹💓✨✨✨💓

[purrpowerco]

Hoomans give the best chest scratchies 😻❣️🐈

[cerise-on-top]

i just stumbled across your blog by chance and ohh my god i am in love with it 😻 you write my babygirl war criminals so good <3 anyway i can't stop thinking about how the 141 + graves would be with a fem!reader who has a huge and blindingly obvious crush on them :P BUT ALSO!!! she gets really bratty and annoying because she wants their attention like all the time 😔 anyway yeah ur blog is giving me life i hope both sides of ur pillow are always cold 🙏

Hello! I'm glad to hear you enjoy my silly writings! I try my best to write them as well as I can, thank you :> I'm sorry to say this, but I only write for four characters at once, so I left Graves out this time. But you're more than welcome to send the same request in again a second time with Graves, I don't mind!

TF141 with a Reader who Has a Huge Crush on Them

Price: This guy would know fairly quickly. He’s had a crush here and there as well when he was younger, so he knows how foolish some people can act when they have one. You walking into a pole as he talked to you, your irises as wide as possible, was kind of a dead giveaway. He’d be worried about you, asking you if you’re doing alright, but won’t push you. Price believes that you have a crush on him because he’s an authority figure, although he is also aware that he’s fairly good looking as well. Though, he won’t force you out of your comfort zone and use it against you either. You having stars in your eyes as you listen to him talk to you is sort of cute, though. It does remind him of his youth. Might become a bit more touchy with you as a result, lightly punching your shoulder or putting a hand on it and squeezing it. Nothing big, since he wholeheartedly believes your crush on him will wane eventually. However, as much as he likes you, he wouldn’t really be happy with you needing his attention on you all the time. He’s a captain, he has a lot of work and needs to do organizational things as well when he can, so he can’t really spend too much time with you. When he can, he will, but you will need to tone it down a bit as well. If you keep being a little brat, however, then he will call you out on it and tell you in a gentle tone to calm down a bit. He’s not going anywhere, he’s not taken, so you really have nothing to worry about. If you’re being especially good for him, he might reward you with a hug. It’s a good reward because he’s a very good hugger, very comfortable and strong, and he doesn’t just give his hugs out to anyone. But you need to behave.

Gaz: Will also notice fairly quickly that you’re crushing on him. In his case, the fact you would always be in a good mood whenever you were alone with him was what gave it away. However, he, too, is a sweetheart about it and won’t push you. He’ll give you a few more smiles than usual, give you a few more touches and try to spend more time with you. Many people have had a crush on him, so he’s fairly used to it by now, but it’s still very flattering. You’re cute when you’re stammering around him, leaning into his touch when he puts his hand on your forehead, checking you if you have a fever since you said your face felt hot. The way your irises turn into hearts whenever you look at him doesn’t go unnoticed by him either, it’s always fun to see. However, he might sometimes hold your hand intentionally to fluster you a bit. If you’re particularly close, he might kiss your cheek as well when you give him a gift to show your gratitude. Overall, he’s having fun, but he won’t abuse the power he has over you either. Instead he’ll let it slowly form, let it take a natural shape. You always wanting his attention is also fairly cute to him. Not many people vie for his attention as much as you do, quite a few people tend to dismiss him, but it’s nice to be the center of attention anyway. Will invite you to spend some time with him if you’re being jealous, like taking a walk or cooking together. If you’re especially jealous he might offer to cuddle with you for a bit before he has to go back doing stuff a sergeant needs to do. He may not be the warmest person, but he puts all his heart into cuddling someone. He does want you to feel appreciated as well since he does like you as well. So yeah, feel free to knock on his room and ask him to spend time with you, he likely won’t say no.

Ghost: Another one many people have a crush on. He’s used to being the center of someone’s romantic attention, but he never really cared much for it, never was one to just jump into a relationship without really knowing the person well beforehand, so he never gave anyone a chance. Ghost also knows when you have a crush on him, especially since you’re always trying to spend as much time with him as possible, even if it’s just hanging out while he’s filing reports. Though, in all honesty, Ghost won’t treat you differently from before. He won’t be any more touchy than before, he won’t go out of his way to spend time with you. You’re still you, regardless of how endearing it is that you can’t hide your crush in the slightest. Although it could be argued that you bumping into this behemoth of a man and then falling back onto your butt is borderline careless. He’ll offer a hand to help you up, though. Unlike the Gaz and Price, he might bring you having a crush on him up in a conversation, asking you if it’s true. Regardless of your answer, he’ll go quiet for a bit before patting your back and going about his day again. It’s his way of saying “Thanks. Good luck.” A man of few words even when he’s not speaking. You always wanting his attention does get on his nerves a bit, though. He needs his alone time occasionally, so you sticking to him like a limpet is a bit annoying. Has no qualms about telling you off either, though. He’s a lieutenant, he knows what he wants and he can bluntly convey such. But that’s just his way of speaking, give him a few hours and you can spend some more time with him if he isn’t busy. You can do a puzzle with him, it calms his nerves and his mind gets to stay sharp too.

Soap: He’s also a very observant man, a very smart cookie, so he’ll have it figured out when you made him a pie with a handwritten note, little hearts instead of dots over the i’s. You’ve never done anything like this for anyone else, though, so he knows. Is a bit smug about it. Not too many people have had a crush on him since he’s friend material more so than anything else, but there was one person, maybe two. He’ll grin like a Cheshire cat when he knows you aren’t looking. Becomes far far more touchy than before. In fact, he’ll flirt with you as well. If you’re speechless then he’s won. Gives you side hugs, bear hugs, hugs from the back, you name it. Will also offer to let you nap on his big, broad, manly chest if you complain about being tired. He sort of wants to get you to confess to him. Yes, he has not had many sweethearts throughout his life since he was always busy with soccer and the military, but he thinks someone being this head over heels for him could do him some good. And he also wants to stroke his ego. And yeah, there is a chance he might develop feelings for you as well while he’s being this affectionate with you. He’s affectionate with many people, but he’ll turn it up a notch with you, he’s not immune. Doesn’t mind you being annoying for his attention either. He can be very annoying too when he wants attention, so there’s a chance you’ll annoy each other into spending time with each other. Even if there’s no need to. For some people, Soap can be a bit off putting with his curious nature and how social he is, but he’s glad that’s not the case with you. So yeah, you’re more than welcome to go drink some shots with him at a bar and then snuggle the stinking night away because you’re drunk and he’s almost entirely sober.

[babygirldilf]

janet is an all-knowing being of existence. she knows everything in the universe and can do anything. she's a genius, a fighter, and a good friend. jason didn't do a lot in his time on earth, doesn't know a lot, and he still struggles with understanding basic situations. but jason cares. he cares a lot, and he loves deeply and fiercely. and he was nice and kind and thoughtful towards her, and so was janet towards him. they found each other after everything, two completely different beings with completely different experiences, and despite it all, they fell in love. because they found in each other what they could never find in anyone or anything else: comfort. joy. support, through everything. janet is an all-knowing being of existence, a genius, a fighter, and a friend. but jason taught her how to be a lover.

[whereismyhat5678]

I haven’t drawn Fake Peppino in AGES

For any Fake Peppino lovers out there that I’ve disappointed I’m so sorry- 💀🙇‍♀️

And for anyone WHO HASN’T EVER SEEN me actually draw him I’M EVEN MORE SORRY 🙏🙇‍♀️🙏🙇‍♀️🙏🙇‍♀️

Now I personally don’t want newer viewers seeing my cringe ass Fake pep art but if anyone who does wanna see it- (HEADS UP FOR INTENSE BODY HORROR-) take these few links (I’m sorry I can’t scroll through my entire blog again just take some examples- 🥲):

Here, here, here, here and here.

The first one is my first ever drawing of him, I did not draw him normal- 💀

Anyways….this means have I changed how I draw him? Yes!

Look at the silly goober!! I may draw him just like this for now however…It was fun drawing him like the slimy disaster he was but it’s fine-…It always took a bit of time to draw those 🤷‍♀️

But just for the fun of it, and for old times sake, take a body horror Fake Peppino: (Warning, it looks kinda bad- 💀)

[pickled-flowers]

Btw yesterday I met a person named Bean who worked at a sex toys packaging factory and we ate risotto and pie

[im-getting-help]

I just want Felix hugging a pillow and ruminating about Oliver OliverOliverOliverOliverOliverOliverOliver, OliverQuick.

Why is he unable to stop thinking about Oliver? why is it that he's been thinking about Oliver every night and every single day since they met?

Oliver has been sleeping in the next room for a couple of days. Oliver is currently sleeping in the next room. how does he looks when he's asleep?

I want Felix getting up and going through the bathroom and opening Oliver's bedroom door without stopping to think, because if he stops to think he won't do whatever it is he's going to do. I want Felix to find Oliver reading a novel in bed.

Why is he reading at this hour? how late is it? it's well past midnight. Oliver is wearing his glasses.

I want Felix finally giving up and hopping up to the bed, straddling Oliver before leaning down, softly grabbing his face and kissing him.

I want Oliver being so fucking surprised and confused by it that he isn't able to reciprocate, holding to his book for dear life, sure that he's dreaming.

I want Felix grabbing the book from Oliver's hands and gently placing it in the bed side table, because he wouldn't just throw something that's not his. I want Felix taking Oliver's glasses off his face so delicately, and placing them on top of the book before going back to kiss him, slowly, savoring those plush lips that'd been driving him insane for so long.

I want Oliver to melt. I want Oliver gone, out, brain disconnected. I want Oliver offline for the next hour, hands delicately placed on Felix's hips and just, letting Felix take over.

I want them to fall asleep together. I want Felix waking up hours later hugging Oliver, his face pressed against Oliver's back.

I want him to slowly sit up and watch how Oliver turns around and keeps sleeping, snoring softly.

[acupofqueercoffee]

“Sleep tight, sweet delight”

Request by @sakura-chan-25

Alrighty! Let's go: You cannot tell me Lady Lesso doesn't have a sweet spot for her partner. What if her partner/the reader was sleepy, but doesn't want to leave Leonora's side? So Lady Lesso does her paperwork with reader on her lap and reader tries not to fall asleep, so Leonora starts bouncing her leg (the one where reader sits on) and tells reader to sleep. Just some fluff for her.

I hope you find this satisfactory 👀

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“Come on, Leo!” You whine, tugging at the blankets that your girlfriend is currently cocooned in. “The early bird gets the worm.”

No matter how hard you try to pry the duvet off her body, your attempts boil down to futility, for she does not budge a millimetre. Still, you know for a fact that she is awake as soon as your ears pick up on a soft, sleepy sigh.

“And what happens to the worm that is early?”

Her voice especially in the early mornings, thick and heavy with sleep, is one of the things that you find most deliciously charming about her. It has the potency of making your body react in the most extreme and inexplicable of ways. She has effortlessly held that power over you since day one, and you truly doubt the increasing amount of time spent together with her can ever change that.

Perhaps it is your lack of response that prompts her to finally emerge from beneath the sheets, and my god, how ridiculously dazzlingly beautiful she is even with wisps of wild, untamed fiery curls scattered to the four winds. It really is no surprise that you are perpetually in awe of this charismatic creature.

When your eyes refocus, she is resting on her elbow, head in her hand. Complimented by the fabric cascading around her waist, your lover looks every bit the epitome of a Greek Goddess sculpted by the most gifted of renaissance artists.

“Cat got your tongue, darling?”

That sweet, sultry lilt of her voice effectively carries your attention back to the conversation at hand.

You clear your throat, stare into those arresting eyes that remind you of a fox.

“A cheeky naughty fox got my tongue actually.”

“Oh?” Voice laced with mirth, she sweetly calls out to you. “Come, darling, lie with me for a while.”

“Leo, you promise to go apple picking with me today.”

“And I will. But can you really blame me for wanting to feel my sweet little lover in my arms?”

Contrary to what you state, your feet are already on the verge of carrying you towards the bed. After all, not only does sinking into her arms to be pressed against her barely clothed body sound like a tantalising idea, you are also not immune to those puppy eyes that seldom make their appearance.

“Well? Is my darling going to keep her woman waiting?”

And well, when they do make an appearance, you can never resist.

“Fine. Five minutes. Five minutes, and then, you’re getting out of bed and we’re getting ready. Alright?”

“I will, honest.”

As soon as you slip under the covers, arms, like moon-kissed ivy, are twining round your waist. Your lover rests her head under your chin, and all too happily, you sink your fingers into a forest of maroon mane.

The both of you collectively release a content sigh once you apply gentle scratches to her scalp, and her face nuzzles your chest, nosing the tender skin under your jaw.

Right at this moment, you are understanding that getting up awfully early in the morning after going to bed at an ungodly hour the previous night is a terrible idea as you doze off on the couch opposite your lover’s desk.

The fork betwixt your digits falls to the floor with a clatter, and you jolt awake. Roaming your eyes around the room reveals to you that your girlfriend is looking at you with an amused expression on her annoyingly handsome face.

“Why don’t you rest early, Princess? You’ve had quite a productive day today after all.”

“I’m not tire-“

Funnily enough, a yawn interrupts you.

“You were saying?”

Quite frankly, you are bone-tired, but not fancying the idea of sleeping alone aside, you do not wish to leave her side. Then again, there is a part of you that harbours an irrational fear that if you honestly say your reason out loud, she will find you annoyingly needy.

“Come here.”

Without hesitation, you answer when she calls, pulled towards her like an ocean is pulled by the moon.

A thumb finds the corner of your mouth, wipes away the little stain of apple sauce that must have stayed there after your indulgence of apple pie.

Although you no longer blush like a schoolgirl at her salacious display, you feel significantly warm all over as she proceeds to taste the sweet sauce on her thumb, all the while maintaining eye contact with you.

Then, your girlfriend smirks, very reminiscent of a sly fox, cradles your hips between her thighs before you are gingerly coaxed onto them, carefully perched atop her lap.

“Is this comfortable for you?”

“Mmhm.” You hum your affirmation as you rest your head against her shoulder. “Very.”

“Good.” One of her arms holds you across your waist, all the while her other hand busies itself with shuffling and scoring papers.

You, on the other hand, busy yourself with studying the spectacularly sculpted features of the face that you have already committed to memory, your eyes amidst a tug of war between succumbing to sleep, and admiring the vision right in front of them.

The urge for the former is nowhere near the latter, but you are so very tired that you seem to be slowly losing control over your own body. And when green eyes catch you resisting the much needed sleep instead of embracing it, a “tsk” spills forth lips so tempting that you become engrossed in the way they move.

“Silly girl, I’ll be here always and forever for you to watch as much as you like, so let go.”

Her lips fall atop your forehead, sweetly kiss the words into your skin. “Sleep, dearest.”

You do not have to be told twice.

Accompanied by the rhythmic rocking of her lap and the strangely soothing sounds of pen scribbling onto paper, contrapuntal with the serene melody of her heartbeat, it has been too easy for you to finally surrender to the sweet, sweet slumber that has been all too eager to pull you in.

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[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Happy Third Anniversary, mothlings!!!

i can't believe another year has passed already!! a lot has changed and i've been much busier, so i didn't even notice. i never really know what to say for these types of occasions, but i will thank each and every one of you for being here and generally being nice and amazing people!! it's really amazing to me that anyone at all enjoys my work, especially about a more niche character- may this next year be even more full of Foul Legacy love!!

[thecatcrew]

Nyla is looking pretty cozy ☺️🩶

[draculasfavoritewife]

Meleth Nín (My Love)

Summary: The very future of Middle Earth may hang in the balance, but a quiet night allows thoughts to stray toward questions of a more personal nature.

Pairing: Legolas Thranduilion x elf!Reader/OC

Warnings: Pining, female language used for reader.

I wrote this a couple summers ago during my brief but intense LOTR phase. "Enelya" is the Elvish name I got from a name generator as a kid so I used it here 😁. Apologies for the length, I got massively carried away. This IS supposed to be x reader, I just wrote it before I was comfortable writing in 2nd person.

(Translations of Elvish phrases at the end)

It is my turn for first watch tonight, an assignment that I do not mind even during normal times, and that I am almost bittersweetly grateful for on this night. I have much on my mind that needs settling, and somehow, I do not think that listening to the grating snores of the sons of Gloin and Denethor would give me more peace than the crisp night air. 

The surrounding woods are still, nothing moving about in the underbrush that shouldn’t be, and I allow my guard a chance at rest, turning my attention to the stars instead of the trees. Crouched where I am on a wide branch, I have a perfect window through to the deep ebony expanse of the sky, and a strange blend of homesickness and excitement blazes briefly through my chest. The stars are strange here, arranged differently than they are back in the Greenwood, yet a few familiar individuals still flicker amongst foreign constellations. 

It reminds me of the first time Legolas coaxed me into climbing his favorite tree back home so I could see the stars. I will never forget the wonder I felt as he pulled me through the last layer of obscuring leaves and the sky unfolded before me, rolling on forever. I’d seen the stars many times in Imladris, but they were different there, blessed with a sense of safety and serenity that everything beneath the watchful eyes of Elrond felt. 

With Thranduilion, high in the crown of the wood, balanced on the very threshold of the sky, with nothing anchoring me except his steady hand holding mine, it suddenly seemed I could reach out and touch the Valar themselves. I remember laughing, simply because no other reaction could express what I felt. Thranduilion laughed beside me; it was late, we were the only two still out after a hunt, and I still am not entirely sure why he took me up there. 

Whatever the reason, that instance changed many things for me. It sparked in me something older and fiercer than I knew, some desire for more than what I had there in the Greenwood, much as I loved it. Some yearning which prompted me to accompany my Prince along on this solemn venture, wherever it leads. 

I’ve tried not to admit it, but that night started changing the way I saw him as well. 

Someone approaches, passage no more than a whisper, only slightly less silent than one of my own people, and there is only one it could be. No guard is needed around one I’ve known since we were both children. 

“Estel.” 

“Mae govannen, Enelya.” He leans against my branch, supported on crossed arms. The others call him Strider, or Aragorn, but to me he will always be my Estel, the companion I spent a couple of decades with after my childhood, before my mother’s people sent for me to return to the Greenwood. Elrond looked after the both of us when our mothers died, and besides my Prince and hunting partner, Estel knows me better than any being in all of Arda. 

Silence hangs between us, draped across the strange stars, until he brushes it aside like a curtain of cobwebs. “What troubles you, Gwathel nín?” 

“Who said I was troubled, Gwador nín?” 

“Your face does, for one,” he replies, voice wry. 

“Manen?” 

“Well, you won’t look at me, Mellon nín. That’s usually a telling sign I’m right and you don’t want to admit it.” He gives no sign of letting up with his persistence. 

I sigh and glance down, taking in the familiar grizzled face and sharp gray eyes. “Mar bedithach, Estel?” 

“I’ll leave when you unburden yourself. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t already heard from anyone else on this journey. If you miss the Greenwood, or are having a difficult time restraining yourself from stabbing several members of this fine Fellowship, I assure you, you are not weak, nor are you alone.” White teeth flash in a crooked grin, and I can’t help returning it. 

“Those are both excellent guesses, and I admit to you that such thoughts have passed through my mind on multiple occasions. However,” I cast my gaze back up to the heavens, “I highly doubt that anyone else in this…most distinguished company is suffering from the same unrest of the soul that I am.” 

Oh Valar, don’t let my face be heating up…. 

Estel turns so his back rests against my branch, leaving his hands free to light his pipe. He does so and takes a few long draws without responding to my declaration. 

I wrinkle my nose. “You’re inviting an early death with such bad practices, Gwador nín.” 

“So Legolas has informed me several times over, but without such sisterly concern for my health.” He’s laughing at me on the inside, I can tell. “Speaking of, am I terribly far from the mark in assuming your fair Prince is the source of your ‘unrest of the soul’, Mellon nín?” 

He knows me too well. Even decades apart have done nothing to weaken the bond we shared as children, nor have I mastered any technique of hiding my thoughts that can escape his piercing gaze, it seems. 

“You don’t have to answer,” Estel murmurs. “Your silence speaks more clearly than anything you could say.” 

“I didn’t think I would fall in love with him,” I offer. 

A grunt is his disbelieving answer. “You spend every free minute together, and even the time that is required for patrolling, hunting, and so on and so forth. To be bluntly honest, I’m surprised it took you six decades. I owe my brothers some money, it would seem, if they still recall the wager we made upon your departure from Elrond’s house. Perhaps I won’t remind them.” 

I can’t decide whether to be astonished or angry. “You and the twins made a wager on me?” 

“Not on you,” Estel is quick to clarify. “On how long it would take you to develop an attraction towards Thranduilion.” 

“So you all just assumed I would, hmm?” 

“And rightly.” He sounds so insolent, as if all of a sudden he is once again the younger brother, and not the protective elder he made himself out to be as he reached maturity. “It was only a matter of time, Gwathel nín. You held out longer than I bet, of course, but Thranduilion is easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. My correspondence with you has been irregular, I will be the first to admit, but from the time I learned of your partnership on both the battlefield and hunting grounds, I thought you would find him a kindred spirit, and someone to admire.” 

I shake my head as if to protest, but what is there to protest? Estel sees truth. Far from being pampered royalty, Legolas it was who took it upon himself to teach me the ways of his father’s kingdom. He reawakened the Silvan part of my heritage that had long since been denied its native wildness in Imladris, and instilled in me that ferocious love for the Greenwood that keeps the Silvan people rooted there even now, as we have to scrape our very livelihoods out of the Dark Lord’s overhanging shadow. We get along as well as if we have walked side by side for an Age, not the paltry decades I have been in the employ of King Thranduil’s guard. The Prince chooses me for the majority of his hunts and orc raids, and we have reached an understanding so fine that words need not be exchanged for us to always know where the other is in the thick of combat. 

He is nearly as much a part of my identity as the Silvan and Noldor blood that runs mingled through my veins. 

Is it any wonder, then, that I want more? 

“Enelya.” Estel’s voice is soft as he blows smoke into the breeze. “You can talk to me, you know. I’ll die before I betray your trust.” 

“I know.” I sink to a sitting position and let one leg dangle into space, resting an arm across my other knee. “I’m not entirely sure what else to say, aside from what I’ve already said. I love him, Estel.” 

He nods thoughtfully and taps the end of his pipe against his teeth. “Your eyes betray you when we travel. Ever they seek him out, even as you watch the landscape for danger.” 

Estel almost seems about to say something else, but even minutes of waiting do not draw it out of him, so I go back to the protest I would have made. 

“He does not distract me. I am as deadly as ever.” 

“I did not accuse you of distraction. I only observed that you watch him.” His eyes flit upwards, to my face, before darting away into the darkness again. “As he does you.” 

I stare down into my sworn brother’s shadowed countenance, unsure of whether my ears are playing tricks on me. Estel wouldn’t lie about such things. Surely I heard wrong. 

“He does what?” 

A burst of smoke from between his lips could mean either amusement or irritation. With Estel, the two often travel hand in hand. “Thranduilion. His eyes follow where you go when we are on the move. Always his attention is on you, even as he stands watch over us. You mean a great deal to him, Mellon nín.” 

Trying to tamp down the surge of emotion rising inside me, I shrug, letting the wind run its cool, long fingers through my hair. “I should hope I do. We’ve been through much together, and saved each other’s lives many times.” 

Now I know he’s annoyed with me. “I meant more than that. I don’t have much with which to wager at the moment, but if I did, I might wager he feels similarly about you as you do him.” 

I stare down at Estel, but he’s looking away again. “Well. Even if that were the case….” I trail off, pulling my knees back up to my chest. “There are too many problems standing in our way.” 

“Such as…?” 

“By the Valar, you’ve become so nosy in your old age, Little Brother.” Despite my ribbing, I can tell by the set of his jaw that this ridiculous matter has become of utmost importance to him for some reason, and I know Estel too well to believe he would give up before we have talked this through. I sigh, resigning myself to discussing my nonexistent romance with him. 

“For one, he’s thousands of years older than I, Estel. I’m barely over a century old.” 

“Oh no,” he mutters dryly. “How scandalous, an age difference.” 

Realizing that he and Arwen are also thousands of years apart, I drop my forehead to my knees. “Well, maybe that wasn’t the best reason.” 

“No, it wasn’t.” Another long draw of his pipe sends a misty cloud drifting about his face. 

“His father would never approve of his son taking up with a Silvan and not a Sindar.” This is painfully true. Legolas told me of his father’s harsh objections to his interest in Tauriel quite some time ago. 

“Are you in love with Thranduil?” Estel asks in a monotone. 

I glare at him. “No! Mîbo orch, Estel.” 

He ignores my insult. “Then worry less about what Thranduil thinks and more about what Legolas thinks. He’s as loyal as one could ever be to those he chooses, and more than stubborn enough to stand up to his father.” 

There is wisdom in his words. However, the biggest reason that has kept me silent on this subject for so long still remains. 

“You know Elves only love once,” he murmurs, tone fading to gentle. “And they seldom err in their choice of soulmate.” 

“I know.” The words slip from my tongue, condensing in the cool air. “And he once thought he loved another.” 

Estel says nothing to this revelation, merely sending smoke rings floating up into the night sky. I can’t tell if he’s pondering what I’ve said, or if he truly has no rebuttal for it. 

“You never saw the way he looked at her, Estel. He talked about her many times when it was just he and I on a hunt. No one else was ever allowed to see how deeply he was hurt when she fell for the Dwarf. I can’t be sure, but I expect he’s never been the same since.” It feels freeing, to finally relate all of this to my sworn brother. I keep many secrets, probably the reason Legolas felt he could confide his heartbreak in me. Yet long has that particular burden hung heavy on my own heart, and I am relieved to bare it to the man beside me. 

His hand rests comfortingly on my back, once again the protector he thought I needed when we were young. “None of us are ever the same as we once were, Mellon nín. Much as you resemble the elleth I once knew, even you have been changed by your time in the Greenwood. Your people may not change as swiftly nor as dramatically as mine, and yet not even the eternal can live so long in Arda without being shaped. Six decades certainly influence a lot of things.” 

I nod, turning his argument over in my mind. “You say he watches for me?” 

The small smile that crosses Estel’s weather-worn face is this time not sarcastic nor teasing. “Indeed he does. Whenever the two of you are parted for a time, even if it is just that I sent you off to scout ahead, he is as tightly drawn as his own bowstring until you return. Who knows, perhaps even he hasn’t entirely recognized it yet. But something will come of it, Enelya. Of this I am sure.” 

“And if Elladan and Elrohir were along with us, am I to assume you would all place a wager on how soon?” 

He nudges me with his elbow. “There’s that sense of humor I’ve been missing. Now, I suppose I had better leave you, because as unobtrusive as he thinks he is being, someone else is waiting for you. I’ll take next watch. Losto mae, Gwathel nín.” 

“Nostad lín sui orch, Estel,” I snicker, referring both to the stench of his pipe and what I’ve been telling him since childhood. “And le hannon.” 

He waves as he returns to the light of the fire. “Carnen an gwend, Enelya.” 

I stare back at the stars above me, knowing that if who Estel implied is really waiting for me, he will approach at his own time and no amount of cajoling will bend him my way sooner. 

So I wait as well. 

No more than a sigh of the tree itself heralds his arrival beside me on the branch. 

“Do you wish to be alone with your thoughts, Mellon nín?” 

Gazing over my shoulder, I am met by Thranduilion’s piercing blue eyes as he leans against the trunk of my perch. 

“If so, I will gladly leave you to them.” There is the slightest wistful note beneath his tone; for all his politeness, he wishes to speak to me. 

Did he overhear my conversation with Estel? 

Heart starting to flutter like a sparrow’s wings, I shake my head. “Avo ‘osto, Hîr nín. Baren bar lin, as they say.” 

“What have I done to deserve such formal address, Mellon?” he asks lightly. Though he laughs, warm and cheerful, an undercurrent of hurt runs deep through the words. 

Does it hurt him, truly, to call him so? “Goheno nin, Thranduilion,” I murmur, unable to look away from that intense gaze. “My mind was not in the present moment, I fear.” 

“Ú-moe edaved, Enelya.” His reply is warm, and I cannot miss the affection that wreathes around my name as it falls from his lips. “I am only glad to learn I have not offended you.” 

“Rest assured, I would have let you know in no uncertain terms if you had,” I inform him saucily. 

His laughter at my cheek is bright now, all trace of concern gone. “This is true.” Nodding towards my view of the dark sky, he leans closer, bending so he can see what I am seeing. “Looking for old friends among the new?” 

“Indeed.” I stretch out my spine, careful not to knock him away from my shoulder. “I miss some of our constellations that you pointed out to me in the Greenwood.” 

Legolas stands upright again. “Aphado nin.” He reaches upward for a branch and swings to a higher level. 

I rise to my feet and stare up at him between the leaves. “Am man theled?” 

“To see the whole sky, of course. You’ll never gaze upon the greater picture if you do not climb higher, Mellon nín.” He holds out a hand. 

I take it, allowing him to pull me up to his level before continuing the climb. “You said those very words when you made me climb that tree the first time back home.” 

“I didn’t make you.” I can nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “You were given a choice.” 

It is my turn to laugh now. “Not when you say such poetic and inspiring things, Legolas. Although I was terrified of climbing to the crown of that tree, your way of putting it made me feel I should never be complete until I had seen the whole sky. I consider myself bewitched.” 

He shoves my shoulder as he easily passes me up. “No one is whole unless they have seen the entire sky. Estelio nin. It is truth.” 

“I do trust you. That’s why I climbed the tree with you that night, even though I was still frightened of falling. I knew you would catch me.” 

We remain in silence then until we break through the leaves, pushing through as if to the surface from underwater. I cannot count the amount of times I’ve done something similar with Thranduilion, those late nights after a hunt, but it still takes my breath away, to gaze upon the veil of stars and clouds that rolls ever on to the very edges of Arda. The sight makes the songs of my people flow through my veins, never failing to give me the gift of peace. 

I should thank him for introducing me to the sky more often. 

“I hope I never grow tired of this.” It takes me a moment to realize I’ve breathed the words aloud. 

Legolas is gazing out in the opposite direction, handsome face serene. “You will not.” 

I want to impertinently ask him how he would know, but I swallow the teasing words. He has walked these lands for nearly three millennia, and still finds such joy in it that he felt he needed to introduce me to that joy. He would know. 

“Enelya.” 

“Yes, Mellon nín?” I turn to face him. 

He drops down to sit on a branch that is old enough to serve as a seat. “Will you help me?” 

I know what he is asking for. He’s perfectly capable of doing it himself, but it has been a ritual of ours for years, and I enjoy it as much as he does. “Of course.” I make my way to his side and start to unwind his braids. 

“I’ll do the same for you,” he promises, relaxing into my touch. 

I weave my fingers through his silky hair as I release it to the mercies of the breeze, untangling any knots, minuscule as they are, and drawing out fronds of moss and bits of leaf that have found their way into his tresses. I can’t remember when we first started caring for each other’s hair at the end of the day, but it is always one of my favorite times spent with him. The few moments we have no responsibilities and can just talk about nothing, as friends are wont to. 

“What do you think the others would say, if they knew the truth?” I ask teasingly, moving to the tiny braids over his ear. 

His eyes flash to give me a sideways glance. “What do you mean?” 

I smirk. “Do you not hear them speak of you, in wondering whispers? They all ask how Thranduilion manages to stay so neat, how his hair, long and beautiful as it is, remains free of forest debris and untroubled by tangles. They have begun to speculate that it is some gift from Elbereth, that he looks fresh as the day we set off while the rest of them grow ever more unkempt. What would they say, if they knew it is simply because I re-braid your hair every night?” 

Wicked mischief flashes across his countenance for a brief instant. “They would all come running to you for your excellent services, I imagine. Do you want me to tell them, and so dispel the legends? I would prefer to keep your company in such matters to myself, but perhaps I shouldn’t be so selfish. After all,” he leans closer to whisper, “it might be worth it, to see you running your fingers through Aragorn’s oily mane.” 

I can’t stop the choking noise that comes from my throat. “I love that man, but there are some things I will never do for him, Legolas.” 

His quiet laughter floats into the night. “Nor should you have to.” 

Something pricks my fingertip and I yank my hand away from his hair. “Ai! Is this a burr, Thranduilion? Where on Arda did you find that?” 

He shrugs easily. “It could have been anywhere. Yet I assume it came from one of my solitary scouts. Had the halflings followed where I tread, surely they would have all come away full of them.” 

I try not to laugh at the thought of our four smallest companions drowning in burrs. “It is fortunate you only picked up one.” 

Once my Prince’s hair has been seen to, he turns so I can sit before him and begins the same process on mine. Much as I love the feeling of the wind running its fingers through my hair, it cannot compete with the gentle and nimble hands of Legolas. My eyes close as those hands begin their familiar path, and for some time all that I know is the warmth of his body next to mine and the soft melody of the well-loved song he hums next to my ear. 

Is it any wonder, that I have come to care for him as I do? 

“Mellon nín?” he murmurs suddenly. 

“Yes?” 

“What made you decide to accompany me on this quest? You know you could have returned to the Greenwood.” 

“That I do.” I sigh and let my eyes flutter open again. How much do I say? “But if this quest fails, it will not matter if I had returned to the Greenwood, for even Thranduil Elvenking cannot keep the shadows at bay forever if the Dark Lord triumphs.” 

He is silent for some time, and I let him remain so. I learned long ago that Legolas will not share what is on his mind except at a time of his own choosing. 

“I suppose you are right,” he finally concedes. His fingertips brush my ear, and I shiver at the contact. “It was no doubt my own desire to know you would be safer at home that clouded such truth from my mind.” His voice grows somber. “You do know, Enelya, that we may never see the Greenwood again.” 

“Of course, Mellon nín. Yet through all my time in my mother’s land I have been at your side, and the Valar themselves could not keep me from staying beside you. Even unto the Halls of Mandos, I would rather accompany you than be apart from you.” My breath catches on the last word. Have I said too much? 

His hands pause in their combing to rest upon my shoulders. “I am blessed, then, to have found such a companion as you.” 

“Le hannon, Legolas.” 

When next he speaks, there is a layer of hesitation resting over his tone that I rarely hear from him. “Do you know, I was quite angry when you first insisted on traveling with me.” 

“Oh, I remember. How could I not?” I sniff. “You didn’t speak to me the entire first day of our journey.” 

“I am not proud of my conduct,” he admits penitently. “However, I do realize, since that time has passed, that some good came of it.” 

I feel his long fingers trace my jawline, soft as a breath, turning my face slightly and prompting me to shift so I can meet his gaze. 

His eyes are deep and thoughtful, turned mithril silver by the moon as it breaks from behind a cloud. 

“Do you know, Enelya, how that one day without your company felt to me? Even the torture of seeing you walk at the perimeter of our Fellowship, yet kept from approaching you — by my own stubbornness — made my heart feel sundered from my chest. I realized that day that I could not have endured it if you had indeed returned home as I suggested. One day without your laugh, without your smile on me, was enough for a lifetime.” Legolas’s tone is raw with honesty, and a great many things seem to be making sense to me now. 

It would seem Estel may have been correct, after all, though I won’t tell him so. 

I remember how difficult that first day of the trek was, knowing all too well that Legolas was displeased with my choice. I have seen him angry, at his father, usually, and I knew all the signs too well. I can recall then how delighted and relieved I was when I awoke the following morning to the smell of my favorite fish baking over the fire; Legolas and I have had our fair share of tiffs over the long years, and that is his tried-and-true method of asking my forgiveness when he is at fault. 

We ate our morning meal sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, no one else the wiser of our wordless play of apologies and affirmations. 

Well, Estel probably was. But he doesn’t count. 

“What do you wish to say to me, Mellon nín?” I murmur, lifting my own fingers to brush against his cheek. 

He leans into my touch. “I have thought about you much during these uncertain days, even when we are not given much opportunity to talk. About how sorely I would have missed your presence, and grieved at not being able to feel you at my back whenever we face a threat. About how much I have missed times like this, when there is no one but you and I beneath the stars, sitting in the lap of the heavens.” 

“And what would you have done, without me to braid your hair? Become as scruffy as dear Estel?” I tease. 

He curls his lip in mock disgust. “Gerich faer vara, suggesting such a thing to me! I should certainly think not. I admire your Estel, Mellon nín, but I don’t believe the man has bathed once since we set out from Imladris. Yet he has had plenty of chances!” 

I laugh, leaning back against his chest and settling into my new position, comfortable from countless times of sitting like this. “Estel and his questionable hygiene aside, what were you saying?” 

His hands trail down my arms to my hands, where he weaves our fingers together. His hands are finer, more elegant than a mortal man’s, yet they are still wider than mine, surrounding my smaller ones with gentle fondness. This, too, is a much-practiced gesture between us, though there is a different flavor to it tonight. It feels more intimate, as if it means more than our mutual trust and respect this time. 

He smiles; I can hear it in his singsong words, close to my ear. “What I am trying to say, Enelya, is le annon veleth nín.” 

He gives his love to me? 

“Gerich veleth nín,” I answer simply. “It already belonged to you.” 

His lips brush my hair. “I used to wonder, when I was a much younger ellon, why I never felt the need to find a life partner when I came of age. Indeed, Ada certainly bothered me about it for several centuries, until other more pressing issues caught his attention.” 

I’ve never heard Legolas refer to Thranduil as Ada, and certainly not with the echo of a sigh beneath the endearment. It makes my heart ache strangely, to wonder what long-forgotten love once flowed freely between adar and iôn before they let their rift widen so far. 

But this moment is not to be sullied by mourning what has been lost. 

“Do you believe one can wait thousands of years to find their soulmate?” he asks. 

“I do. I know most can’t fathom such a wait, but for our people, it does not matter.” 

“Truly. I think I never pursued anyone with much seriousness because my heart knew it was waiting for yours.” Legolas turns me slightly, so our eyes can meet again. “I would make up for my blindness, Meleth nín, if you wish it.” 

I rest my forehead against his. “I wish it so, Meleth nín.” 

Then his lips are pressing into mine, and this kiss that I have awaited many years is a summer thunderstorm, warm and wild, washing away everything that came before and paving the way for love to bloom. 

Whatever our perilous path holds for us, I suddenly have all certainty that we can weather it. 

Together. 

Mae govannen = Well met

Gwathel/Gwador nín = Sworn sister/brother

Manen = How?

Mellon nín = My friend

Mar bedithach = When are you leaving?

Mîbo orch = Go kiss an orc

Losto mae = Sleep well

Nostad lín sui orch = You smell like an orc

Le hannon = Thank you

Carnen an gwend = For friendship

Avo ‘osto = Don't worry

Hîr nín = My Lord

Baren bar lin = My home is yours

Goheno nin = Forgive me

Ú-moe edaved = No need to forgive

Aphado nin = Follow me

Am man theled = Why?

Estelio nin = Trust me

Gerich faer vara = You have a fiery spirit

Le annon veleth nín = I give my love to you

Gerich veleth nín = You have my love

[it-wasntaphase]

dan and phil and cats

[xysidhequeen]

Equilibrium Chapter 1 Excerpt

Danny slid through the door, expecting the home defenses to spring to action as he was still invisible and intangible. But they didn't. He paused, confused, and left wrongfooted by the unexpected lack of weaponry. Something beeped. "Danny?" A voice called, his mother's. It sounded uncertain and hopeful. Danny hesitantly let his invisibility drop, and he took a tentative step forward. When no weapons emerged to shoot him, he walked slowly to the kitchen to find… his parents, Jazz and… Sam and Tucker? He froze again, confused and uncertain and ready to run. "Danny!" Multiple voices rang out, all of them relieved. "Oh, my baby," mom said, her voice wavering and her eyes filling with tears. She was up and across the room in seconds, wrapping him in a hug. Danny stood stock still, frozen and rigid for a moment before he melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around his mother and sobbing into her shoulder. They were the same height now, yet her hug made him feel like he was six again, and everything bad in the world could be solved by her hug. "It's alright. I've got you, baby boy, it's okay," mom soothed him, running a trembling hand through his hair while he choked on his tears and snot. His hands fisted in the rubbery material of her jumpsuit, unwilling to let go of a comfort he thought he'd never have again. When he had calmed down, she led him to the table, sitting him between her and dad. Mom kept an arm around his shoulders, grounding him.

Just a small little tidbit because I sent Chapter 1 and 2 off to a friend who so graciously and kindly offered to beta this fic for me after I joked about tossing it in her lap because she indirectly caused it to spawn.

Chapter 1 is sitting at 7k words at the moment, Chapter 2 at 5.5k.