#what in the sweet eru

[catz4ever]

EVERYONE SHUT UP!

SAM JUST POSTED THIS ON HIS INSTA STORY.

ALL HE SAID WAS "GO WATCH EPISODE FOUR NOW STREAMING"

SIR! SIRRRR! I ALREADY DID! WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS?! WHERE WAS THIS POINT OF VIEW DURING ADAR'S ENTRANCE?!!!! ARE WE GETTING MORE OF THIS ENCOUNTER IN EPISODE FIVE?!?!

HELLLLLLP!

I. AM. UNWELL.

@baddybaddyadardaddy @orehuna @theamethystvampiress @bigblissandlove1 @eowyn7023 @magpiehistoryandart @toddthekiwibird @clumsycopy

[meldelen]

The thought of Sauron having to dwell surrounded by ugly as fuck Uruk, in a devastated land of ashes, fire and scorched earth, creepy ringwraiths and stenching gases, filthy rags and dark twilights on a forever clouded sky amidst chaos and corruption and disorder, while what he really desires are pretty things, good jewelry, neat and clean garments and feast his eyes in Elven beauty, to rule and be loved and revered rather than feared and hated, to bring forth beauty and order and peace in a world of light.

I almost feel sorry for him. Then I remember it's all his goddamn fault and it passes.

[hobbitinnumenor]

just a PSA because I'm a humanitarian....

please check on your Isildur-loving friends and make sure that they're still breathing....it's been a thing 😭 the *audacity* of this guy, he'll kill us all if he keeps this up

[catz4ever]

SAM HAZELDINE IS A GIFT TO THIS WORLD AND NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS FOR GIFTING US WITH THIS MORSEL.

I. LOVE. HIM.

NEW ANGLE OF THEEEE MOMENT !!! WE WON! THANK YOU SAM

[wheeniemyloove]

anywhere with you (gracie abrams x fem!reader)

summary!: highlights of life on tour with gracie!

contains!: fluff, lovesick birds

notes!: i love gracie sm, hope u like it!

@destroyedeverysilverlining 's request

Tour life was chaotic, exhausting, and fast-paced—but somehow, with Gracie, it always felt like home.

From the moment you had joined her on the road, your days blurred into a haze of long bus rides, late-night rehearsals, and adrenaline-filled performances. But in between the chaos, there were moments—little snapshots of time where it was just the two of you, and everything else faded into the background.

The Sleepy Mornings

The first time you woke up to Gracie curled up beside you on the tour bus, you nearly melted on the spot.

"Morning," she murmured sleepily, her voice raspy.

"You’re not supposed to be here," you teased, stretching your arms above your head.

She only hummed, pressing her face into your shoulder. "Your bunk is cozier."

"You mean you keep stealing my blanket."

"Same thing," she mumbled, half-asleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to protest when she laced her fingers with yours under the covers.

Late-Night Studio Sessions

After a show, when the adrenaline was still buzzing through her veins, Gracie would sometimes pull you into an empty greenroom or a quiet studio, just to play.

One night, she sat on a stool, guitar in hand, while you leaned against the couch, watching her.

"I’ve been trying to write something about you," she admitted, fingers picking at the strings absentmindedly.

Your stomach flipped. "Yeah?"

Gracie smiled, a little shy but undeniably soft. "Yeah. It just... never feels good enough."

You tilted your head. "Sing me what you have."

She hesitated but then started playing, the melody slow and sweet. The words weren’t finished, but they didn’t have to be—you heard them in the way she looked at you, in the way her voice softened when she sang your name.

Dancing in Empty Venues

Before soundcheck, when the arena was still empty, Gracie would blast music through the speakers just to be silly. One day, she reached for your hand, eyes sparkling.

"Dance with me," she said, tugging you forward before you could say no.

"You’re ridiculous," you laughed, letting her spin you across the stage.

She grinned. "And you love it."

You did.

The Polaroid Wall

Somewhere along the way, you had started collecting Polaroids of your time together—selfies from rest stops, blurry shots of Gracie mid-laugh, pictures of her signing posters while you sat beside her.

One day, as you were pinning a new photo to the growing wall in her dressing room, she came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"You realize half of these are just pictures of me staring at you, right?" she murmured into your ear.

You turned in her arms, smiling. "Guess that means you like looking at me."

Gracie leaned in, nose brushing against yours. "Maybe I do."

And then, before you could tease her back, she kissed you—soft, slow, like she had all the time in the world.

The Fans Love You Too

Meet-and-greets were always Gracie’s favorite part of the tour, and over time, her fans had started to recognize you too.

“You’re her girlfriend, right?” a girl asked excitedly, clutching a vinyl for Gracie to sign.

Your cheeks burned. “Oh—uh—”

Gracie laughed beside you, glancing up from where she was signing a poster. “She’s my everything,” she said smoothly, and the fan gasped dramatically.

“Oh my god, you two are so cute.”

More fans started chiming in, asking about your favorite songs, tour moments, and what it was like to be with Gracie every day.

“She sings in the shower all the time,” you teased, and Gracie playfully bumped her hip into yours.

“Hey! That’s classified information.”

One of the fans beamed at you. “Okay, but do you ever get tired of hearing her sing?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Never.”

Gracie turned toward you, something soft in her eyes, and before you could react, she pressed a quick, lingering kiss to your cheek.

The fans erupted into cheers, and Gracie just grinned, lacing her fingers with yours as she continued signing.

“You know,” she murmured under her breath, “I think they love you almost as much as I do.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “Almost.”

The Quiet Moments

After the last show of the tour, when the crowd had faded and the lights had dimmed, you found yourselves sitting side by side in the empty venue, feet dangling off the stage.

"You tired?" you asked, nudging her knee with yours.

Gracie exhaled, leaning her head on your shoulder. "A little."

"You did amazing," you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She turned to look at you, eyes warm. "This was my favorite tour."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She laced her fingers with yours, squeezing gently. "Because you were here."

And as the last echoes of the concert faded around you, you realized something—tour might be over, but with her, the adventure never really stopped.

Because anywhere with Gracie felt like home.

[princessfantaghiro]

My thoughts about ANGBANG...

Tbh I have very mixed feelings about Melkor × Mairon... And i can't decide once and for all how I see the ship. 😉

One day it's seems to be SO GOOD in my eyes, the other days...A little less.😅

But personally enjoy that major headcanon of Angbang!Fans...And all the wonderful fanarts or fanfics.

I am not immune to the idea of ​​the eternal love of Mairon and Melkor, the two Ainur... A love older than the world. Stronger than time and space. One that makes all other Stories of Love pale in comparison...

It's extremely tempting. The vision of Melkor × Mairon, as forbidden relationship...Cursed by the God and Lower gods, but still Existing, live and burning as Flame, no matter what. Even without Blessing of the One...

I try to combine the book!material with ROP.

And I believe Melkor didn't force Mairon to admire/love him. I think it was honest and true from the both sides. Especially at the beginning...

I can see them like the great, epic romance.

They started like, for example Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen from ASOIAF.

It was mad, true love. Robert Baratheon lied to everyone that Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped and raped Lyanna. Baratheon even started his [un]famous bloody Rebellion, based of this Lie... But it wasn't true. Lyanna and Rhaegar really loved each other.

I think Angbang was like them. Mairon Admirable, the most beautiful being at Arda [like Lyanna Stark in ASOIAF], and Melkor, the mightiest of the Valar and the First Rebel.[like Rhaegar Targaryen, the Rebel]. The men were madly in love, obsessed about each other. They cared very deeply about themselves. Mairon saw the best in Melkor, and Melkor saw the best in Mairon.

Later? [I mean...after tens of thousands of years] I see their relationship as some kind of the Duel. There was great love, and there was hate between them. No place for any less feelings than to the extreme.

And as Halbrand/Annatar has his own complaints and grievances...

He said to Galadriel about "living under Morgoth's Fist." He said Celebrimbor about "the cruel Game" with Morgoth...And that it's pains him to treat Tyelpë like his former Master did...I believe he was very honest to Galadriel & Celebrimbor in those moments. That Sauron didn't lie. [But in the same time, he didn't say the whole truth].

Melkor was stronger and older than him. I can imagine that Mairon saw Melko as his personal idol. And of course, he fell in love with the mightest Valar. It was easy to Melkor to seduce Aulë's Apprentice.

Showing him uncredible things Mairon never saw before...

And took him on his side.

And even if I can say that Melkor kidnapped Mairon [maybe] from Heaven, from Aulë's House...I am sure that Mairon ummm...wanted that?

Because Mairon didn't feel loved by a rest of the Family? He didn't feel understood by them? Melkor was First [and the Only One from the Family] who really loved him, and wanted him, and "saw" him the way Mairon really is?

That he is different? And that he doesn't belong in place he lived? That Mairon, like Melkor; is unable to be the perfect Puppet of Eru? They both are too independent? Too open'-minded? Too "wild"? They both don't fit to the Angel!Society?

They are not like the other Valars and Maiars:

"Yes Father, Eru Ilúvatar. We do everything as you wish! Yes, Father. Everything you said. Your wish is our order."

And of course, Mairon wanted to be worshiped by Melkor, the Second after the Highest God? He craved for Melko's love and attention, like thirsting man on the hot desert craves cold water...

But later things propably get worse. After many thousands of years of their existence and relationship...When Melkor started to fall into darkness more and more, and he transformed slowly into Morgoth...

I suppose Melkor could be both: generous in love, even sweet and worshiping to younger maia when he was in really good mood; but very brutal to Mairon when he was angry or dissapointed?

I think Morgoth sometimes couldn't stand Sauron's weakness for other beings...Like Adar. He was madly jealous and Mairon tears from sorrow annoyed him. Just like his failures...He loved to punish him sometimes, saying that "It's all Sauron's fault. That he deserved the pain. "Because he is a monster." And Mairon believed him...

And believed that he must be/get "stronger and taughter". But Sauron never reached Morgoth's expectations in this matters, no matter how hard he tried. He always end broken somehow.

Even if Morgoth sincerely regretted punishing Sauron. He sincerely apologized, after everything, he tenderly kissed Maia's wounds, which physically disappeared...Even if he said and really meant he didn't want to hurt him...However, traces remained in Mairon's psyche.

I can see Angbang! as a relationship in which Melkor would like to possess Mairon completely. And Mairon was terrified and fascinated by this kind of love at the same time. And that he would be able to respond with exactly the same strength of feeling to Melkor. Mairon who craves love, has always been deprived of it... Because unlike the rest of the Ainur, he saw imperfections in the actions of God, or even in Eru!Himself. The Admirable refused unconditional obedience to the One!God. Refused to be a puppet in the hands of the Great Puppeteer. But he liked the idea of ​​serving the Second after God, Melkor. The One who First showed him love, even if it broke over time...

PS. ☺️Personally I have really strong urge to ship Sau with SO many characters it hurts!,[cause this twisted deviling is so extremely shipable i swear to God😭]

How we started:

How we ended:

[glykerniaz]

Warm The Bed

ᅠᅠᅠ𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ sub!fingolfin x top!reader ⋆.˚ ⠀ㅤ𓄼

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ✎ᝰ. ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ 

ᅠᅠᅠ ( synopsis. ) You are a Maiar of Ulmo, Your his lover, and you've loved him for a long time, even after the troubles he had with his older brother. For a long while, after his exile, he couldn't even bear to face you. Yet, as he crossed Helcaraxë, he found himself longing for you, softly pleading with you to come to him, to soothe his heart tonight.

( tags. ) top!reader , bottom!fingolfin , sub!fingolfin , maiar!reader , smut ,semi-public sex , one-shot , anal-sex , ejaculate.

( a/n. ) Your dessert is here, my friend! Hope it’s as spicy (I mean sweet) as you wanted! @liar-anubiass-blog ᅠᅠᅠ

You are his lover, the river that helps carry away his pain, and the one he fears facing most after what he's done—following his half-brother’s decision. ᅠᅠᅠ He's terrified of the disappointment in your eyes. ᅠᅠᅠ Yet, you reassure him once more with the warmth of your presence in this uncomfortable bed. ᅠᅠᅠ You give him the peace to sleep soundly for the first time in years.

ᅠᅠᅠ

ᅠᅠᅠ

The snow-capped mountains have collapsed again, and the glaciers have cracked once more. Every day, he must face these trials, even as he prays to the gods, to the Valar. ᅠᅠᅠ

But his pleas have never been answered. Not even by you. It is as if the Valar have abandoned them, indifferent and uncaring. ᅠᅠᅠ

In truth, he doesn't even dare to pray to you. ᅠᅠᅠ

He fears that you might reject his pleas. ᅠᅠᅠ

Afraid that when he looks into your eyes, hears your voice, it will be filled with guilt and coldness. ᅠᅠᅠ

If that were the case, it would break his heart even more than being alive but dead inside. ᅠᅠᅠ

The streams running beneath the cold glaciers remind him of every word he speaks, making him hate himself even more. He knows how much he misses you, how the cold that does nothing to his body seeps into his mind. ᅠᅠᅠ

It penetrates to his very soul, which cries out for your name through the bond we share amidst all this suffering. ᅠᅠᅠ

You are Maiar, a servant of Ulmo, and he is Fingolfin, the exiled prince of the Noldor. ᅠᅠᅠ

His eyes are weary, yet he must endure to lead his Noldorin followers to survive the deadly cold of Helcaraxë. ᅠᅠᅠ

The screams and laments of those he leads make it harder for him to sleep, though sleep is not even necessary. ᅠᅠᅠ

Eru, he prays with his life, no matter how much you despise him—he just wants you to be here, to hold him, to whisper that everything will be alright. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Please... I need you, Y/N" ᅠᅠᅠ

ᅠᅠᅠ

Your lord, Ulmo, is assigning a task to you. He is aware of your relationship with that Noldorin prince. ᅠᅠᅠ

You are a loyal and faithful servant, and Ulmo understands this well. Therefore, he has granted you the power over the waters beneath the icy waters of Helcaraxë, to help quell the fury of Ossë's rage. ᅠᅠᅠ

You watch over and assist the drowning Noldorin elves time and again, saving them from loss. Yet sometimes, even the anger of the waters is beyond control. ᅠᅠᅠ

You immediately think of Fingolfin when you hear the mournful cries of the elves. In the end, due to the difficulty of your duties, you inadvertently closed off your fea (spirit). ᅠᅠᅠ

But tonight is different. Tonight, you hear a faint but deeply painful sob through your connection with him. ᅠᅠᅠ

"My Nolofinwë," you whisper softly, and decide to seek him out. ᅠᅠᅠ ᅠᅠᅠ

ᅠᅠᅠ

Inside the brightly lit tent, Fingolfin sat frozen in shock as he saw your familiar figure slowly approach him. ᅠᅠᅠ

His legs, unsteady with longing, rushed to embrace you tightly, inhaling the warmth of your scent, as if it were sunlight in the summer. ᅠᅠᅠ

His face buried in your chest, his arms wrapped around you in a desperate embrace, as if afraid this moment might be a dream. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Eru, tell me this isn't a dream." ᅠᅠᅠ

His body held onto you with no regard for appearances, even though you were alone in the tent, with only the soft glow of a torch to warm the empty, wounded heart within him. ᅠᅠᅠ

"I'm here, my love. I’m here now." ᅠᅠᅠ

You cupped his face in your hands before gently pressing a kiss to his forehead, your silver eyes gazing at him with affection. ᅠᅠᅠ

"I called for you—but you didn't answer... I thought you were disappointed in me, angry with me—" ᅠᅠᅠ

Your expression softened, and you carefully lifted the Noldorin prince into your arms, cradling him as you would a fragile maiden, treating him with the tenderness he so desperately needed. ᅠᅠᅠ

"It was my carelessness that blocked my spirit, preventing me from hearing your prayers." ᅠᅠᅠ

You pressed your forehead against his in a loving gesture, then kissed the crown of his head once more. ᅠᅠᅠ

"You don’t hate me, truly—do you?" ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin gazed at you with pleading eyes, searching for comfort and sincerity in your response. ᅠᅠᅠ

"I have never hated you, my love." ᅠᅠᅠ

Just those few words from you brought him a sense of relief, as if a mountain had been lifted from his aching chest. ᅠᅠᅠ

You gently laid him down on the bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as a cold breeze swept through the tent's curtains. ᅠᅠᅠ

He clung to you, unwilling to let go, looking at you with eyes full of longing. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Don’t go..." ᅠᅠᅠ

You can’t refuse him, not when you loved him so deeply and were willing to give him everything. ᅠᅠᅠ

He pulled you down beside him, his back easily sinking into the soft fabric beneath him. ᅠᅠᅠ

Could you really turn him away? ᅠᅠᅠ

"It’s so cold here. Come, warm my bed..." ᅠᅠᅠ

"Please..." ᅠᅠᅠ

There was no way you could ever refuse him. ᅠᅠᅠ

The flame in the torch flickered with the force of the snowstorm outside the tent, yet it did not extinguish our insatiable desire. ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin's face flushed with heat, and his cheeks turned a charming shade of rosy red. ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

His hair spread out on the bed amidst a pile of clothes on the portable bed, lacking the comfort of a palace. His white neck was adorned with red spots, like a brand. ᅠᅠᅠ

You sit between the legs of the holy prince, eagerly and passionately kissing to dispel the severe cold of Helcaraxë. ᅠᅠᅠ

Who would have thought he could be so beautiful even when exiled far from the elven paradise? ᅠᅠᅠ

"Don't—don't look…" ᅠᅠᅠ

His hips tightened when they were thrust and penetrated by the giant cock of Maiarr, who became one with him to alleviate his psychological trauma. ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin struggled hard to suppress his hoarse, lustful moans as he was repeatedly thrust—again and again. ᅠᅠᅠ

His lower body was completely numb, yet he unconsciously lifted his hips to absorb your impact, as if his body was betraying him to satisfy his desires. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Hng-Hnggg! Ah!" ᅠᅠᅠ

"T-That's too much-!" ᅠᅠᅠ

"Just a little more, Nolofinwë," You murmured while nibbling the tip of his pointed ear. ᅠᅠᅠ

His cock twitched against his abs in rippling muscles when you did that. He almost came with every thrust of yours. It made him feel so good—so good that he couldn't stop. ᅠᅠᅠ

His hands clawed and crumpled the poor bedspread until it was almost torn. Your back was covered with his scratches, seeking an outlet for this ecstatic feeling. ᅠᅠᅠ

"Ah-ah! Ah! Ah!" ᅠᅠᅠ

M-More! ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin moaned. He no longer cared whether any elf with keen ears and curiosity passed by, for the happiness and warmth you gave him made this cold bed more inviting to lie down on than ever before. ᅠᅠᅠ

Every time his lips tenderly kissed and savored, drawing the breath from his lungs, it felt as if it stopped the functioning of his brain. ᅠᅠᅠ

The dizzying feeling made his legs weak, not unlike a first-time bride who just spent her wedding night. ᅠᅠᅠ

The scent of sweat and our moans intertwine. Your nose nuzzles, inhaling his sweat. The muscles in your legs tense and twitch, soft and limp in your hands. ᅠᅠᅠ

You are so strong, powerful—and magnificent—that he felt a knot in his lower stomach as if he were pinned down by hot nails, unable to move anywhere. ᅠᅠᅠ

It didn't take long for your expertise to make his cock twitch and release a pearly liquid that splattered across his chest and stomach. ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin arched his hips up, his back lifting off the bed. His mouth opened, letting out a moan, and he yanked your collar down, pressing a passionate kiss that made a slurping sound with our tongues entwined. ᅠᅠᅠ

His eyes widened as he regained consciousness and felt the warmth within him—your big cock was still hard and throbbing inside him, the sound caught between his legs. ᅠᅠᅠ

Huh? ᅠᅠᅠ

"Are you joking me…? W-Why are you still hard…" ᅠᅠᅠ

so warm- he's think. ᅠᅠᅠ

His lungs felt like they were burning, but he held his breath until he could speak. However, what he received from his curiosity was just the corner of your mouth smiling. ᅠᅠᅠ

Your battle-hardened palm gripped his pale thigh, pulling it apart even more. "I'm not done yet, my beloved. It's so cold tonight. How about I warm your bed instead?" ᅠᅠᅠ

Eru… ᅠᅠᅠ

Fingolfin's face turned red, his lips bit down before being helped by that insatiable Maiar to warm the bed once more.

ᅠᅠᅠ

dividers ➵ @chachachannah @anitalenia @cafekitsune

[greenleaf4stuff]

In Convenience - Chapter 5, part 2

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage to marriage of love AU, post story snippet 5, part 2. Celebrimbor's morning remains hectic, though a quiet conversation with Galadriel gives him temporary relief. As he and Gil-Galad begin to welcome the first guests together, Celebrimbor is dismayed to learn that it is the delegation from Greenwood. King Oropher, and his son - Thranduil. May Eru give him strength.

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience" and "In Convenience")

More interactions of Celebrimbor and various characters, some soft and sweet, some humorous, some serious. I just wanted for multiple characters to react to his new relationship, the peace, and so forth. I found the feast itself was less important to me than those little moments, if that makes sense? It works as a good framework, but the heart of this chapter are the interactions. :)

True to his own predictions, him and Elrond were afforded preciously little time to eat and chat in peace before the servant with the timetable came breezing into the room again and proceeded to quickly usher Celebrimbor along to have his robes fitted. The Lord of Eregion’s insistence that he knew how to dress himself and would be fine on his own, thank you very much, was soundly ignored.

The robes, at least, were as finely made and as comfortable as he had hoped for them to be; they were of a beautiful emerald color and made out of silks and velvets, flowing nicely down his body and cut in a way that looked quite flattering on him, if he might say so himself.

In a mirror to Adar’s armor, he’d requested the front to be embroidered – though not with the rivers of Beleriand, but instead a depiction of the Glanduin. The seamstress and her assistants had done truly magnificent work in that regard; they had managed to include the Sirannon into the artistic representation, as well as the mountains at the end of it and the doors to Khazad-Dum, thereby making the depicted scenery a symbolic link between the elves of Eregion and the dwarves of the mountain.

Along the depicted riverbanks, as well as on the collar and sleeves of the robe, the seamstress had included delicate floral shapes in gold, green and violet:

Holly leaves and sage blossoms.

The same intricate shapes that found themselves in Celebrimbor’s hair jewelry, which he’d begrudgingly agreed to after having been pestered about needing to wear some kind of finery at least. A circlet, however, had still remained firmly out of the question.

Standing before the mirror and looking at himself, the smith was brought back from his marvelling at the beautiful robe as a blonde elf came into view, carrying an altogether too familiar grin as she beheld him.

He turned around in surprise. "Galadriel," he called out her name and raised his eyebrows. "What brings you here?"

He paused for a moment. "Surely not to help me with my garments?" He didn’t know if he dreaded or liked that possibility. As Elrond was fond of pointing out, the Commander of the Northern Armies more often wore bloodstains and mud as ornaments than pearls and gold these days.

She raised her eyebrows a few times, before she gently shook her head and stepped closer towards him. It seemed she had already dressed for the day ahead; a teal dress that complimented her eyecolor and the shade of her hair. She looked incredibly lovely.

"Fear not, my friend, I have merely come for some moral support," she teased and let her eyes move over him as she walked in a circle, to take him in from every angle. The smith held open his arms and exaggeratedly twirled to give her plenty of opportunity to do so.

He tried for a serious face and a raised eyebrow, whereas she could not keep in her little smirk. "And, what do you say, my lady?" the smith asked, and then also smiled as he looked down his own form. "Fine work, isn’t it? Especially considering the seamstress has made this piece at such relatively short notice."

"It is," Galadriel agreed with a nod. "Some might claim it to be too subdued in color and design, considering the occasion. But I think it is more than adequate, and suits you very well. You look...comfortable. Which suits you better than any golden or silver robe would."

The two of them shared a giggle and twin smiles at her little barb towards Gil-Galad, and Celebrimbor couldn’t help but agree with her. "It truly wouldn’t be me. I would look ridiculous, trying to appear as some grand elven lord of old." A moment of silence. "We have Ereinion and Thranduil for that."

Another shared smirk, and then Galadriel came forward and grabbed his hands, bringing them up between them. She seemed to be at ease, brighter and not so weighed down by worries, as she had been before Sauron had been slain. Celebrimbor was glad to see her this light-hearted and happy, and told her as much.

She almost seemed flustered, but squeezed his hands and replied. "I do indeed feel more unburdened, ever since we defeated him. Though there is still plenty for me left to do, even with the peace we have achieved."

At Celebrimbor’s questioning gaze, she elaborated. "If we have learned anything from the recent past, it is that we must remain ever vigilant. Gil-Galad has allowed me to patrol the borders of the elven kingdoms, and…" she paused, sighed. She looked a bit conflicted for a moment, as if she could not make up her mind on whether what she would say was good news or not. Finally, she continued. "And search for Celeborn."

At the mention of Galadriel’s missing husband, Celebrimbor drew her closer and felt his eyes open wide. He tried to reply, but was unable to settle on anything he wished to say. He understood her reluctance; she was missing her husband, dearly so, but looking for him also held the chance that she would not find him alive. Or at all. It was a daunting task, to say the least.

He pulled one hand from her grasp and wrapped it around her back, drawing her into an embrace that she returned. "…I hope it will allow you to find the answers you seek, whatever those will end up being. Just know that me, Elrond, Gil-Galad and Adar will be waiting here for you to return. And help you, in whatever way you might need."

The elf knew he could not say much else that wouldn’t sound like a hollow platitude. From the grateful expression on Galadriel’s face and the unshed tears in her eyes, it was evident that his words were enough. "I know, and I am ever grateful for it. Thank you, Tyelpe."

"Of course," he replied, with a tiny smile. As they both stepped back, he added, "How soon are you going to leave? Will you go with Ereinion, once the festivities are over?"

She nodded, resolute but slightly apologetic. "I think I will. He and I will stay here a few more days, but then we both will depart and make for Lindon, before I start my quest." She paused and looked at Celebrimbor for a moment, before something seemed to occur to her.

"Speaking of which, Gil-Galad tells me you have managed to tempt his herald away from him." The glint in her eyes meant she was curious more than anything.

Celebrimbor flustered and ruffled his hair, only to curse when he undid one of the hair pieces in the process, being wholly unused to wearing them. Then sucked in a breath as Galadriel reached up, gently batted his hands away, and took the clip from him. With slow movements, she smoothed back his hair to refasten the piece.

The smith bent over a little to make it easier for her to reach as he replied. "Well, I made Elrond an offer. He hasn’t accepted it yet. Also, he is his own person – I couldn’t steal him even if I tried, unless he wanted to be."

Despite the younger elf’s kind disposition, and how his demeanor usually was that of an attentive, caring healer and friend, Celebrimbor had learned just how cunning and downright vicious the other could be if he deemed it necessary. The smith certainly wasn’t foolish enough to try and use underhanded tactics against Elrond; the herald would run circles around him before Celebrimbor even knew it.

Still, Galadriel’s look was knowing as she said, "I have been fortunate enough to count myself as Elrond’s friend for a very long time. He might not have accepted yet, but unless something drastically changes, he will. Mark my words," and took a stray strand of hair and tucked it behind Celebrimbor’s ear.

The smith inclined his head in thanks and looked at her handiwork in the mirror. For someone who spent more time in the wilderness than at court, she certainly knew what she was doing. "Thank you, Galadriel."

"Anytime," she responded, voice soft, and then motioned for him to sit. "Come, let me redo what they did to your hair on the other side as well."

He did not hesitate to follow her suggestion. As he sat, he looked at her over his shoulder with a little smirk. "So they sent you to help fit me after all?"

Her eyes were full of mischief. "They have not, but I suppose both they and you should know better by now than to expect me to do the thing that is expected of me."

The smith laughed in reply. "For what it’s worth, I am grateful for it either way. The day is more symbolic than anything, but it promises to be quite exhausting. Seeing a friendly face is much appreciated."

This time, it was her who inclined her head at him, looking fond.

Celebrimbor was fairly certain the only reason he and Galadriel had gotten to spend the as much time as they had was how much of a reputation the Commander of the Northern Armies had among her peers – for when she left him in order to seek out Elrond once more, he was immediately beset by his fussing servants again.

At least none of them tried to argue with him about the changes that had been made to his hairstyle.

He was being corralled into the great hall, where visitors and guests would arrive and both he and Gil-Galad would greet them, thank them for their attendance, and perhaps participate in some inconsequential – or not so inconsequential – chatter.

Gil-Galad looked expertly put together as Celebrimbor joined him, though that was rather usual for him. He also appeared to be moments away from a headache. Perhaps due to who some of the first guests were.

When he was told, the smith was torn between hoping that the coming interaction would be over fairly soon, and quickly rising trepidation at having to deal with that particular guest this early.

Case in point, both he and Gil-Galad tried their best to command an honest-looking smile onto their faces when the delegation from Greenwood the Great stepped into the hall.

Oropher, the King of the Woodland Realm, and his son. Thranduil.

Considering that the people from Oropher’s realm rarely interacted with the other elves, or the rest of Middle-earth for that matter, it was a good sign that he had followed their invitation. His attendance was in fact quite welcome, as it might provide the High King the chance to advocate for closer relations between the elven kingdoms.

His son, however…

Celebrimbor dismayed, just a little, when he found Ereinion and Oropher seeking one another out to discuss the recent victory and the peace treaty, while he was burdened with entertaining the king’s son. Who was already eying him up and down with a raised eyebrow and an entirely unimpressed expression, causing the smith to take a deep breath in an attempt not to bristle.

Thranduil certainly had taken the opportunity to look his very best; that was, if 'best' was to be defined as carrying all the finery and elaborate robes he had at his disposal, to the point it was beginning to tip into being just a tad too much.

Unlike Celebrimbor, Thranduil seemed more than happy to wear a circlet, for example.

The other waited a moment longer, likely hoping to let the Lord of Eregion stew in his judgemental silence, before he finally opened his mouth. "Celebrimbor. It is good to see you," the smile on his mouth was a fine, small thing, and undeniably sarcastic in nature.

The smith sighed, quietly, and affected a bright and welcoming expression. They’d done this dance before, he could do it again. Deciding to go toe to toe with the other on the lack of proper titles, he replied: "Thranduil, very glad you could make it. Welcome to Ost-In-Edhil. I hope you and your father have had safe travels?"

The sindar prince hummed, almost dismissively, as he continued to study Celebrimbor’s appearance. The smith wished nothing more than for his husband to appear at his side in that moment. Whether through his intimidating appearance, or because of his ability to scowl anyone in his vicinity into submission, the elf knew he’d have surely managed to cut Thranduil’s antics short.

"Yes, thank you, we did," Thranduil answered, absent-mindedly, before he sought out Celebrimbor’s eyes. This would be it.

"I see you have kept your sense for subtlety, Celebrimbor. One could even say, you are so humble you dressed down despite celebrating one of your greatest achievements. And your own wedding."

Ah, there it was. Entirely predictable.

The Lord of Eregion did not let the other’s words affect him, and kept his smile as he lightly replied, "Well, not everyone needs to conceal their lack of personality with shiny robes. You are aware you will trail mud, having worn them during your travels in order to impress?" before he raised his eyebrows.

They held their gazes for long moments. Were it for any other royal, their exchange doubtlessly would have caused a diplomatic incident. Judging by Gil-Galad’s highly disapproving sideways glance, Celebrimbor would likely get a scolding later on for this, and rightly so. But there was method to the madness – which became evident, as it did every time, when Thranduil huffed, and then began to thaw a little.

Celebrimbor did not quite understand himself why it was, but holding his own against the prince’s insolence had usually served him best to bring the other around to a much more civilized way of conversing. The other would undoutedly still be difficult to handle, but at least it would be bearable.

"I see you have not lost any of your fire either," Thranduil observed, and this time, there was no taunting behind his words. "Congratulations, by the way. For helping to slay Sauron. Say, should I congratulate you on the marriage as well?"

The smith’s smile grew a little lopsided, but he managed to keep it. And found it to be genuine, now that things were getting easier. "Oh, yes. I think that is something worth congratulating as well."

The other looked skeptical for a moment, before he inclined his head and said, "Very well, then. Congratulations on your marriage." He looked up at Celebrimbor through his eyelashes. "I cannot imagine how it would be so, but as long as you are content, that is the most important thing."

It was in this moment that there was a slight commotion outside the hall, and when the four of them looked over, it was Adar and a gaggle of both uruk guards and Celebrimbor’s elven servants, bickering loudly as they walked down the hallway outside.

Adar, while visibly and audibly annoyed, did stop at the open door and took his time to throw a glance inside. His and Celebrimbor’s eyes found each other easily. While the uruk only gave a small smile and a light bow, the smith lifted his hand, and watched fondly as the other found himself at the end of some groans from his own children, urgings from the servants, and then not-so-subtle shoves further down the hallway.

Whatever they wanted him to do, Celebrimbor had no clue. He, Gil-Galad, Elrond and Adar had decided not to involve Adar into greeting the guests for now, at least not until they had gauged how the prevailing reactions the uruk’s presence would be. It was one thing to have a peace in writing, but it was an entirely different one to look the proof of it in the eye after centuries of bloodshed between their people.

A nerve-wrecking prospect indeed, but Celebrimbor hoped the festivities would be a first step to overcoming that particular problem.

As the smith turned back to Thranduil, the other visibly looked between the now empty entrance to the hall and Celebrimbor, and as he finally settled his eyes onto the Lord of Eregion, there was a smirk on his face and a glint in his eye. Celebrimbor gulped, nowhere near as subtly as he’d hoped.

"Oh, I think I understand now," the prince admitted, and raised his eyebrows for a short moment. "I did not know you were one for such a...rough kind of charm."

Celebrimbor found himself flustering a little despite himself. As well as wishing for some wine.

Despite the teasing, and despite the fact that Oropher in particular wasn’t entirely convinced of the decision to make peace with the uruk, the meeting continued to be surprisingly pleasant. It seemed that since the last time they had met, Thranduil had mellowed out a little bit, and Gil-Galad had at least managed to persuade the King of the Woodland Realm to give the alliance a chance.

(Later on, Gil-Galad would pull Celebrimbor aside and thank him for being the one to talk to Thranduil. While they managed to be civil, Ereinion and the prince had a very similar – namely, haughty – disposition that oftentimes clashed with one another. As High King of the elves, Gil-Galad had much less leeway than Celebrimbor to respond to Thranduil’s taunts with ones of his own without risking an incident.

Having Celebrimbor take over in this instance was making diplomatic relations much less difficult for Ereinion, an admission that quite surprised the smith – but also, made him feel pride at the king’s trust in him.)

Oropher, however, brought up another point that had to be addressed. Namely, how one of his own soldiers had brought him the news of what happened in the Southlands, now called Mordor, and what part Adar had played in it.

Everyone, especially Galadriel, had been aware that this would become a point of discussion eventually, and had the potential to become a controversy if they weren’t careful. Perhaps that had been part of the reason why Adar had been excused from greeting the guests for now; the uruk was rather passionate about his children’s need for a home, and still quite unapologetic about how he had achieved giving them one.

It was one of the few things that Celebrimbor and Adar tended to...discuss, at times. Not to the point of a fight, but the elf could both understand that Adar had been in a very isolated, difficult position and done what he thought was the best for the survival of his people, and yet also saw that erupting the mountain and displacing the men from their land was nowhere near an easily defensible solution.

He could also understand how that would cause resentment, both for the men who had been forced to relocate to Pelargir, but also the elven soldiers who had guarded the region for centuries and sacrificed much to defend it.

The situation made it clear that while Sauron had been killed, and a peace for all of Middle-earth could and would be achieved, it would still take much time and effort on all sides to do so.

"That soldier of yours, I understand he has begun to involve himself with the men and their efforts to make a new life for themselves in Pelargir. Will he be attending today’s celebrations as well?" Celebrimbor asked, carefully.

It was both a risk and a chance. He and the others had talked about the possibility that the men might come to voice their grievances, and the smith hoped that he might have worked out a proposition that might...not close the rift between men and uruk, most likely, but help bring about a way for both sides to heal, instead of seeking retribution, perhaps.

Oropher seemed surprised at the question, but pleasantly so. "It is my understanding that he intends to do so, yes. Though I suspect his intentions might be to warn, or make a strongly-worded appeal on behalf of the men he has become so fond of, instead of only congratulating you on the defeat of the Deceiver."

Ah, yes. Adar’s role in Sauron’s defeat, and that of the uruk, certainly was in their favor. Still, the loss of the Southlands was still relatively fresh, all things considered. Celebrimbor felt himself gnaw on his lip as he contemplated all this, before he lifted his eyes to Oropher again.

"If he wishes to speak to me directly, I’d be more than happy to have him. And any delegation the men might have sent as well, of course. I should like to hear what he has to say. Perhaps we might...I might help address their concerns in a some way, at least."

Oropher took a moment to think on Celebrimbor’s words, before he gave a slow nod. "Very well. I will tell Arondir when I see him – and send him your way?"

The smith nodded as well. "Yes, that would be much appreciated. Thank you."

He was certainly a little apprehensive, truth be told, but if the defeat of Sauron and his own marriage to Adar had taught him anything, it was that even impossible odds might not be so impossible as one might think. He would try his best, that was for certain. For the sake of the men of the Pelargir, for the peace, and also for Adar and the uruk.

[aeviagreenleaf]

Season 1 Episode 2 rewatch thoughts

Not my first rewatch, curious what I forgot/didn't notice previous times...

Adrift under the stars, so intense even for an elf

It’s interesting Celebrimbor says “Feanor” instead of my grandfather and there’s other instances that formality is used between relations and I guess this is to keep it simple for viewers.

His excitement for the forge is adorable. Definitely his father’s son and grandfather’s grandson. 

LOL poor Elrond delusional about being welcomed with open arms, sweet little elf

“No.” lol

“Over here,” ahhhh the first words he hears from her

“The tides of fate are flowing. Yours may be heading in or out.” The look she gives him haha, like this dude is so serious what a drama king 🙄

So basically love at first sight

“Looks can be deceiving” he definitely already senses she is an elf, maybe senses even more about her

First arm hold as he pulls her out of water

I swear he smirks a little after she says “Galadriel”

Elrond throwing the match cause he has realized Durin is mad for some reason and he wants to make it up to him 🥺 I do love Elrond’s humility which is rare for elves

And he asks for forgiveness

“No staying for dinner” lol then Disa is all smiles “you’re staying for dinner!”

Durin and Disa are so precious 

“I see you planted the sapling” 🥺🥺

And Disa reveals Durin’s treated the tree like a third child 🥺🥺

It’s so sexy the way Halbrand pours some water over his hair

I love Galadriel’s sass “do I have the look of a deserter?!”

As soon as he mentions orcs Galadriel is like !!!! I’ve been searching for centuries and this dude has seen them

But then she’s so soft “I grieve for you” of course he fell for her

Sauron is like what is this kindness she has for me a stranger, why is it affecting me 

When she says she’s been pursing this foe since before the first sunrise, I bet Sauron first thinks she is thinking of Morgoth which is partially true probably way back then but he slowly realizes she means him and he’s smirking a little cause I bet he’s so flattered

Okay with the storm brewing, you would almost think that Ulmo wants to give Galadriel and Sauron a chance to bond

The show runners have basically said Eru intervened so they met on the sea, presumably to shake Galadriel from her funk, but arguably Eru is also giving Sauron this little chance to be “touched by light” and maybe that can make a difference (sadly not enough but great fodder for fics)

Bronwyn is so badass, I miss her

“Bind yourself to me” will never not give me chills 😭🖤🤍 gosh I love these two

So bro doesn’t try to help Diarmid (kinda fair cause clearly he will die but he could’ve been kinder to him) and leaves his raft companions as worm fodder, but a pretty elf who has been nosy and pushy but empathetic falls into the sea and he jumps in to save her while in a vulnerable human fana 🥺🥺🥺

I hope we get more Elrond and Durin moments in season 3

How did I forget that hilt grows

So is Sauron pretending to be asleep and watching Galadriel sleep or did he actually wear himself out in that human body rescuing her? Could go either way depending on the fic, hehe....

[nijigasakilove]

Beach episode! This was so sweet because it was a reminder of how far Raido and Aharen have come. Yea, they’re still the same loveable weirdos we know and adore, but their circle has expanded so much and seeing them surrounded by so many friends warms my heart. More episodes with the whole group doing stuff, please!

Everything about this episode just had me smiling from the swimsuit shopping to Eru and Ren having some sibling bonding time while Reina’s gone to Riku and Oshiro getting closer and Satou and Ishikawa ship forming!

Didn’t expect to see a midsommar reference in this show lmao, Eru’s so protective of reina it’s so sweet. Such a nice family. Luckily her concerns couldn’t have been more misplaced since the island is actually a really popular and built up spot?? When they missed the last boat I was wondering if they’d have to sleep on the beach and they have whole ass hotels there 😂

“But however we change I hope we can be together.” Ahhh I love them sm. So realistic and mature from raido as well! You don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I believe in these two!

[malkaleh]

In response to @plotdesigner writing some more Adar In Gold Cages (absolutely incredible no notes I read it and my brain was just going MY HEART OH MY GOSH MY HEART) have some content inspired by that.

Content Note: CPTSD, dissociation, rape aftermath, a particular kind of abuse that the author (me) has personal experiences of and is attempting to find words for.

did you have someone to do this for you - celebrimbor does not ask it for it does not seem fair to pry into such pain - not when Celebrimbor knows his own hurts are far far less than Adars. And far more his own doing. Perhaps all my own doing, Celebrimbor thinks in his bleaker moments - and this is merely the chains I deserve.

And he is not…Sauron does not hurt him, not really. The bruises and marks on his skin, they are gentle, not meant to hurt - he is kept so very well, such a precious treasure Sauron says, my jewel I will not have you in lesser dwellings.

He should be grateful Celebrimbor knows, when he thinks he might welcome the pain again, against this deeper pain every time

Sauron whispers love against his skin, every moment that he must have him inside his body is an ache that should not be. It is a stain upon him, Celebrimbor knows that and he should bear it better than he does - for afterwards he will vomit - shaking in the room in his chambers set aside for bathing - pale and sick - almost a phantom here, he thinks - perhaps I will fade away but he knows he cannot. He must not. He has done enough harm.

And then, then one morning when Sauron cradles him in the bed that is not where Celebrimbor slumbers when he is alone, one morning Sauron looks down upon him and asks him to craft - to make jewels for the other three and he freezes.

Please. Please he wants to beg. I cannot, I cannot, do what you wish to me but I cannot forge, not for you and perhaps not for anyone again for you have reached inside my body, my craft and my very being and none of it is mine.

But it will not be him who bears the cost. All he can do is…Eru help him, perhaps they might find their escape in this but he does not think he can.

“Have you hurt yourself so that you cannot, my jewel? I will make an eternity of torment for what they have done to you - oh my dearest, do not worry. There will be need for haste.”

A kiss to his shoulder, a cradling of his hand and Celebrimbor knows he must not look ill. He must be good, be sweet. A part of him is almost away entirely - perhaps half in the forge of his childhood, his grandparents proud faces, the love before it all went wrong.

“I will…it is only, it is my failing alone, that I cannot.”

No my jewel, there is naught for you to be sorry for - after all I have plenty of adornments to give all of you. I will wait until you are ready.

-

She knows Celeborn cares for Adar in ways that she could never do - it is too much for each of them - both trying to build understanding across blood and grief and anger.

Betimes Galadriel thinks of who she had been, before. Before. It sickens her that it is here that she has found more of the self she thought had been vanished with Finrod - but then Celeborn is here. And Celebrian lives. She lives in safety though they do not speak of her to anyone, least Sauron learn of her. She will not have it - he has taken so much from her, of her and not their daughter so newly found - living and safe.

It is the greatest pain of her life almost that so many of those who are her heart are here when this, this is her doing. Her pain had led them here, though that thought is an indulgence of self reproach she tries not to allow herself.

And Sauron who is never Halbrand even as he might wear Halbrands form when he comes to her, Sauron catches her in his arms, spins her around to him - is sweet and worshipful and she wants to rend him to pieces.

In this Adar never looks at her with anything but understanding.

Finrod. She wants her brother sharply and thinks, why, why must you have gone out of kindness, out of your love and duty and brightness. Why could you not stay, could not be less than you are so you would not die in horror. So I would not know that he wants you too.

Because he never knew he had you until you had gone and he does not know of you and Beren and Luthien (sometimes Galadriel thinks she might be angry at Beren for the way he had captured Finrods heart (not Luthien who had done the same, but Beren had taken him to his death).

But she is glad he had Adar at the end.

-

Elrond sings and it is beautiful for his kindness and gentleness - he is a warrior but he is not - was not fashioned for it and it is a foolish thing, that this one who can wield the tools of war and yet it is not him.

He heals only that which the others wish healed or eased. And he is so young, painfully young still. Mairon does not care - for he is possessive of all of them but Elrond, Elrond he seems terrified he might simply fly from his grasp so he keeps Elrond firmly in his cage.

It is killing him.

@nocompromise-noregrets @opheliaalwaysfalls @themalhambird @eowyn7023

[taatianaad]

Love

It was a quiet night in New York, the kind of night when the city lights shone like stars, and the hustle and bustle faded into a distant murmur. Alex Cabot and Casey Novak walked together through the streets, their pace slow and relaxed, enjoying each other's company. They had known each other for years, having worked together on some of the toughest cases in the prosecutor’s office, but over time, their relationship had evolved beyond the professional.

For both of them, these new feelings were exciting but also a little terrifying. Neither of them was used to the vulnerability that love entailed, much less showing it. However, that night, there was something different in the air, something palpable and full of promises.

They had spent the evening dining at a small Italian restaurant in the East Village. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter, memories, and shy confessions. Casey, always the more open and humorous one, had managed to draw several smiles from Alex, who was known for her more reserved and serious demeanor. But in that moment, with Casey, Alex felt free, almost weightless.

Upon leaving the restaurant, they decided to walk instead of taking a cab, enjoying the warm weather of the night. Casey led the conversation as always, while Alex listened, fascinated by how easily Casey could make everything seem lighter, more fun.

However, as they walked, Alex began to notice something growing inside her, a kind of sweet tension, a desire to do something she had been suppressing for weeks. She felt the need to be closer to Casey, to cross that invisible line she had maintained until now. As they reached a small park, one of those tranquil corners of the city that felt removed from the rest of the world, Alex suddenly stopped, causing Casey to turn and look at her with curiosity.

“Is everything okay?” Casey asked, arching an eyebrow, her tone casual but with a spark of concern in her eyes.

Alex took a deep breath, feeling her heart race. The adrenaline coursed through her veins as she took the next step. Without saying a word, she closed the distance between them, and before Casey could react, Alex leaned in and kissed her.

The contact was soft at first, almost shy, as if Alex was waiting to ensure that this was okay. But as soon as she felt Casey respond, something inside her released. The kiss deepened, grew more confident. Alex’s hands moved to hold Casey’s neck, while Casey, surprised at first, soon surrendered to the moment, wrapping her arms around Alex’s waist and pulling her even closer.

The world around them disappeared. There was no traffic, no lights, no noise, only the two of them, caught in that moment that seemed eternal.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathing somewhat heavily, and Casey, still holding Alex by the waist, looked into her eyes with a mix of surprise and delight. “What was that?” she asked, but her smile suggested she already knew the answer.

Alex, still a little dazed by what she had just done, laughed softly. “Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Casey smiled, a smile that lit up her entire face. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve been waiting for it to happen too.”

They stood there for a moment, looking at each other in silence, letting the weight of what had just happened settle between them. Finally, it was Casey who broke the silence.

“How about we go to your apartment?” she suggested, her tone light but with a clear implication in her gaze.

Alex didn’t need more than that. She nodded, her hand taking Casey’s, and they began to walk toward Alex’s apartment, this time a little faster, as if they both knew what was about to happen and couldn’t wait any longer.

Once inside Alex’s apartment, they barely managed to close the door before their lips met again, this time with more urgency. Alex gently pulled Casey toward her bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind them as they moved. The desire they had both been suppressing for so long had finally erupted, and neither had any intention of stopping.

The night became a whirlwind of passionate kisses, soft touches, and whispers interspersed with laughter. The sheets tangled around their bodies as they moved in a rhythm that only the deep connection they shared could explain. Every touch, every kiss seemed to ignite an even more intense fire in both of them.

Hours later, after they had quenched that initial passion, Alex and Casey lay under the sheets, their breathing still irregular but unable to stop laughing softly, sharing an intimacy that went beyond the physical. They were exhausted but happy, with a sense of peace and satisfaction that few ever experience.

Casey, with her head resting on Alex’s chest, enjoyed the rhythmic sound of her breathing. The warmth of her body was comforting, and while resting there, Casey felt an emotion she hadn’t expected to come so quickly.

She shifted slightly, lifting her head to look into Alex’s eyes. “I love you,” she said, without hesitation. It was a simple declaration, but one loaded with meaning.

Alex fell silent for a moment, surprised. Her heart began to race, as if those two words had ignited a spark inside her. The rapid rhythm of her heartbeat was so palpable that Casey, still resting her head on Alex’s chest, noticed it immediately. She smiled, her lips curving tenderly as she heard the pounding heartbeat.

“I think your heart agrees with me,” Casey joked, lifting her gaze to see Alex’s reaction.

Alex laughed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “You have that effect on me,” she admitted, her hands stroking Casey’s hair. “I didn’t think... I didn’t think this would be so... intense.”

Casey looked at her softly, her eyes shining with a mix of love and amusement. “Well, get ready, because this is just the beginning.”

Alex smiled, leaning in to place a soft kiss on Casey’s forehead. “I love you too,” she finally whispered, letting those words flow with all the sincerity she felt in that moment.

Casey rested her head back on her chest, allowing the sound of Alex’s heart to lull her. They didn’t need to say anything more. They were exactly where they wanted to be, together, tangled in the sheets, wrapped in a happiness they both knew would last far beyond that night.

Outside, the city continued its course, but inside that apartment, in that bed, Alex and Casey’s world was perfect.

[themalhambird]

@greenleaf4stuff snapshot from the coffee shop au!! Annatar is Annataring, Adar's concerned, Narvi has sandwiches...

"What happened!?"

"I-I don't- I don't- I don't know-"

"You don't- Celebrimbor, that's fifty plates' worth of smashed crockery on the floor, that's half of our plates-"

"So make yourself useful and get a dustpan, Annatar,"  Adar

suggests, a slight growl in his throat. "Elrond- leave cash up, run across to Narvi's, see if he can spare us a box of those paper plates of his, tell him he can either have the cash to cover restock or we'll send him over a whole cake of his choice every week for the rest of the month- Mirdania, we're fine, if you've finished closing the kitchen call it a night and head home-"

"Just the paperwork left," Mirdania replies from where she's appeared, pale and worried,  in the kitchen door. "Cel, do you need a glass of water...?"

Celebrimbor is still standing infront of the counter, staring numbly at the sea of broken china at his feet, and doesnt seen to hear the question. Annatar, looming behind the counter answers before Adar can. "I'll come and sort it, Mirdania, you do your paperwork, darling."

He strides out and around, throwing a challenging eyebrow lift at Adar as he walks towards the kitchen and Adar has no doubt he's going to take his sweet time, suggesting all sorts of things about Celebrimbor's apparent clumsiness to Mirdania in the process..Adar bares his teeth in warning response. But on the plus side, at least the bastard is out from immedeatley underfoot, and with Elrond having just gone across the road, that gives Adar and  Celebrimbor front of house to themselves.

"Celebrimbor," he says gently, and when that gets no response "Tylepë'."

That makes him look up. Silent tears are tracking down his cheeks, and Eru, he looks exhausted. "Are you hurt?" Adar asks. "Did anything hit you when it broke?"

"I- no. No."

"Alright, good. Come on, come around here to me-" he breaks off with a wince as Celebrimbor just...steps forward, trudging stepping on broken shards with an awful crunch, and Adar can only hope no sharp edges peirce through the soles of Celebrimbor's work shoes. Still, the direct route does have the advantage of putting Celebrimbor where Adar can direct him into a chair about ten seconds sooner than would otherwise have happened, so...Adar just rolls with it, pulling up a chair opposite. As Celebrimbor sits, he says:

"I- I put the plates on the counter, where I always put them. I just turned around and I- I don't know, my elbow must have caught it-"

Or, Adar thinks grimly, someone behind the counter leaned over and gave the stack a hard shove. Celebrimbor puts his hands over his face. "Oh, I'm a mess," he mumbles. "I dont- I havent been sleeping well..."

The bell above the door tinkles pleasantly, and Elrond re-emerges carrying a box- followed by Narvi, who's carrying  a brown paper bag ,bristling with sandwiches, in each arm. "Left overs!" He announces. "Slow day today- foul weather- my lot already had their pick, thought you lot might be able to use 'em. They'll be good in your fridges for a couple of days," he plonks the bags on the table by Adar  and Celebrimbor,  pulls one of the baguettes out and thrusts it at Celebrimbor. "That's yours. Eat it."

"I need to sweep-" Celebrimbor protests, half rising from the seat. Narvi snorts.

"I'll sweep, Elrond can go back to his sums, and Adar's going to sit with you while you have your tea and he's going to eat something himself- ham ploughman's on rye in the left bag- " he adds, throwing Adar a glare that says "cooperate, or else". Adar has no intention of not cooperating, especially when cooperating involves a sandwich approximately an inch thick stuffed with thick-cut homebaked ham, two different cheeses, and an assortment of pickles and peppery rocket and also Narvi's dark rye bread which Adar could eat, frankly, by the loaf, without even bothering to put anything on it. Still, he makes a show of raising his hands in surrender to the wisdom of his elder- before pouncing on the sandwich in question.

Celebrimbor picks at the wax paper circling his own baguette. "Still, I can't ask you to-"

"You're not asking. I'm offering." Narvi bustles behind the counter and re-emerges with the crockery bin and the dustpan and brush. Elrond rummages in the bags until pronouncing "Salmon" with a feral hiss of triumphant delight and flinging himself back down to go through the days' receipts with his prize. Celebrimbor finally starts to nibble on his baguette, and Mirdania emerges in her coat, saying "Annatar's offered me a lift home- hi Narvi! Sandwiches?"

"Take a handful, just don't eat that monstrosity you like to make infront of my face."

"Excuse you," Mirdania says with put on primliness. "The sandwich sandwich is a work of culinary genius."

"You put a kid's jam sandwich between a sourdough stake melt and a prawn cocktail on seeded!"

"And it was delicious," Mirdania says, cheerfully unrepentant " the strawberry jam really balanced out the tartness of the lemon mayo on the prawns."

Elrond groans. Adar chokes. "..should I be concerned about agreeing to let you bake when Bronwyn leaves to be a paramedic next month?"

"Uh-uh, no take baksies," Mirdania says, practically skipping. "You gave me paperwork. I gave copies to Elrond for safe keeping. You fool, you've taught us too well!" She stops to drop a kiss on the top of Celebrimbor's head. "Get some rest?" She says. "Take care of yourself.?"

Celebrimbor reaches over his shoulder and pets her hand. "Of course. Thank you. Good night--" he stutters suddenly, stopping mid sentence .

The world stops. Adar's heart leaps into his mouth, Mirdania freezes, Narvi and Elrond both look up sharply. Even Annatar, hovering behind Mirdania, looks suprised.

"- Mirdania, " Celebrimbor finishes, grasping at the name with a desperate relief that makes it all too clear that he had, however briefly, forgotten it.

It's not a good sign.

[ilovefoodandslasherswithmasks]

Part 3 Billy Hargrove ff yall!!!

First of all I hope you enjoyed the last parts I actually found it very difficult to write something after years. But well I'll eventually get the hang again!

Minors shoo or I'm grounding you and taking your phone for the next month!

Warnings: legit we jump to spice, getting down to the pop hoping very soon. Smut, degrading, praising, spit, spanking, ummmm choking what else mhhh biting? Cause hell yehhh. Basically the entire sex education part involved. P in V and shit 🫡.

Reader is again fem, if you wish for a different ff with gender neutral ya let me know but I'll suck at that tbh.

Cause I need more than my imagination.

Groaning he smacks your thighs about to scold you, when a moan left your lips. Causing his mouth to hang open and yours shutting tightly.

"Fuck Doll, did you like that?" He asks his hand rubbing the spot he smacked, you cover your mouth with your hands nodding hesitantly.

"Damn..." is all that leaves his swollen lips, the way he looked up at you, his eyes glistening with excitement and pure ustulation(using big words everyone, take a break from this 'sin' and look it up), maybe a little love and adoration you didn't seem to notice. "So...you're into smacking?"

"I don't know..I never...'tried" you say putting up air quotes.

"Mh how about this, I go down on you, eat this sweet pussy and then I put you on all fours and spank you?" He asked with a snarly smirk, expecting a no and a hard rejection only for your foot to press against his crotch.

"Yeah? Think you can last longer this time, bitch?" (Ueiseisbsisj I love this) you tease as he glares up at you slightly.

"Wanna make a bet who'll cum first if we 69? Cause I'm sure I'd win"

"Pff, yeah right! I'd rather you go down on me instead. I mean I already made you cum if you cum twice in a row it's a bit unfair-" you snort a laugh as he yanks you to the edge of the bed, your thighs on his shoulders. Before he bites your thighs hard.

"Gonna make you cum so hard doll, you won't even know what hit you" and fuck was he right.

Not even the first few flicks of his tounge against your clit, up your slit and back down, had you arching your back moaning and whimpering loudly. Fingers lost in his curls and tugging gently.

"Ah Fuck Billy-" you gasp as he sucks your clit, his fingers teasing at your hole.

"Want more?" He asks and you could hear his breathy chuckle and smirk as he asked, his index finger and middle spreading your labia.

"Gonna have to use your words Darling or I'm stopping."

You whine as you thrust your hips into his smirk, "Please Billy"

"Nah not Billy, Love"

A heavy groan of frustration pass your lips as he stops his hands and kisses.

"FUCK my god you're an annoying fuck, please B- Sir, I want to cum on your tounge and fingers...fuck okay please jeez I'm so frustrated!"

"You know What? Fuck that, get on your knees, face down."

"What? why?!" Feeling devastated he didn't go down on you.

"But I wanna know what it's like!"

"To bad, you're getting fucked. Maybe if you're good I'll go down on you after you cum on my cock."

Rolling over you wiggle up, on your knees at the edge of the bed, your hands digging into the sheets, face turned to look over your shoulder. He gazed down at you his hands traveling over your hips, to your waist, onto your back, pushing gently to help arch it further.

"Keep it like that"

Nodding you shiver, his hands slipping onto your ass, a hard slap hitting your cheek, earning a gasp.

"Yeah, you like that?"

"Mh yes.."

Billy smiles, his hand traveling up your thighs, his fingers gently pushing into you, thrusting hard, harder than expected.

"Ahh fuckk~" a muffled groan came from Billy, glancing over your shoulder he was so focused. Biting his bottom lip, brows knitted together, his eyes flicker over your body, every flinch and shiver now engraved into his mind. The slow squelching sound that started to grow with every single thrust of his fingers. His palm slapping against your clit somehow. A laugh erupted from behind you.

"Holy shit, I could just fuck you right now. I mean with how wet you are I'd slip in no issues at all! Shit babe I might" you could hear the temptation bubbling in his voice.

"Shit...maybe I should... would probably give your pussy a nice stretch" the way you felt yourself clench around his fingers.

"Mh please...."

"What was that? I didn't quite catch that"

"Fuck...please fuck me..stretch me out"

"Mhhh shit" groaning he smacked you again, your ass burning at how hard he slapped you.

"Want me to fuck you without preparation? Fucking slut"

Flinching when he pressed up against you, his dick stroking up and down your slit, catching at your clit which made you jolt, pushing up back into him which made him hiss slow curses.

"Fucking shit....Great- damn..you drive me crazy" sighing, he pushed his tip in between your inner labia, gently taking his sweet ass time as he pushes further into you. Slipping past the first tight ring which made you moan, gripping at his thigh.

"Wait ahh...fuck Billy it hurts"

"Mh shit love, I'm sorry...I won't move...gonna let you get used to it real good....fuck, this pussy is so good Doll...I think I wanna do this everyday...or every damn second of the day, wanna keep being buried in your cunt....hm"

Taking deep breaths you slowly grind back into him, wanting more, you whine as he doesn't move, letting you slowly back into him, pushing inch after inch into you. Billy just groans as he watches the way you swallow him, your swollen clit brushing against his balls by now. A satisfied sigh leaving you as he grips your hips.

"Sh-Shit...did you just fuck back into me? Even thou this is our first time? You just straight up did the work." He laughs a bit teasing you. "Wanna ride it? So you can do it for me? I don't mind lazing around if you're into that"

You groan, glancing over your shoulder.

"Will you just fuck me already?"

"Impatient. Like always. Okay I'll fuck you, but let me warn you, the next day you'll be limping" you were about to scoff before he started to slam into you.

The loud yelp that left you when he imidiatly went for hard, fast and deep wasn't really helping.

You expected it to hurt, it honestly did a little bit. Your cervix was probably gonna end uo bruised but the pain made the pleasure feel twice as intense.

"Ah holy shit Billy...wait!"

"Nuh uh. Gonna fuck you good...."

You can't do anything but moan and whine and grip the fabric below you as he drills into you. Every vein started to drag against your walls. Never did you think you could feel all the details from inside, I mean it's unbelievable but it turned you on more.

They way you started to grow wetter with every detail that you started to feel with every drag out.

Moans falling off your tounge as he slowed down watching the way you seemed to enjoy it more.

He spanked you as he dragged himself out, painfully slow. All the veins, curves and more now you felt more intensely than before.

"Mh what's up with you? You're even more wet and I don't think it's how I'm fucking you.....what is it?"

"Oh...ah I can feel every damn thing...shit every detail of your dick...I can feel it with my walls...Billy this turns me on so much..."

He pulls out before gently flipping you over, lifting you so you're laying with your head in the pillow before he placed another one under your back. Lifting your legs around his waist he slowly sinks back in. Holding eye contact like his live depended on it. He never cared about doing it slow, or whatever, but with you he wanted you to feel all the pleasure. If he didn't cum it done don't matter then.

He set a slow pace, watching the way your eyes fluttered shut, he bend over you kissing your neck gently. Hands kneading your chest.

"Mh Bill....this feels great..."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good cause I think I'll manage to cum like this...."

Sweat started to form on both of your bodies. Eyes stuck in a deep gaze. Lips gently and softly but also roughly leaving marks over one another's bodies. Soft hand digging against his back, rougher hands pushing you waist up into a bigger arch. Your g spot getting stimulated by every push and drag at this angle. And your clit grinded against his abdomen. The way his hand wrapped around your neck slowly, a slight pressure against your air pipes making you throb. Or the fact he let his spit dribble into your mouth or over your chest. Was it nasty..was it hot...pure sex steamed off of him no matter what he did.

Billy buried his face into your neck.

"Gosh...you feel so damn good...."

"Can you please move a little more..need it"

he sat back up his hand finding your clit which made you jolt. Moans starting to grow louder and pick up in pace when he started to pick up in speed..

His thrusts became sloppy and the sound he released where fucking heavenly. You could cum just from his moans and groans.

"Shit gonna fill this cunt..."

You feel your head fall back, you body starting to tense slowly, you hips bucking.

"Shit...Billy"

"I know..." he mumbles as he grabs your hips lifting them further as he suddenly went back to his drilling. And shit that did it for you. You cam undone but he kept going. Groaning and biting his lip hard when you started to pulse around him.

It felt damn good but he needed to see you come once more.

He kept thrusting and pushing, you ended up a trembling mess, legs barely holding up as he pistons into you.

The sounds he let out when he finally edged closer to his own orgasm were fucking pornographic. Never did you think that you were into it but as soon as sounded like that you climaxed again. Hard. Like crazy hard.

You're entire body seemed to spasm underneath him the same way your pussy did and he lost it. He delivered a few more hard, deep thrusts as he came. He saw fucking stars. Which was a first. The way he gazed gazed down at you ones he was done, still bucking his hips at the pleasure as he collapsed over you.

"Billy?" You ask after catching your breath.

"Yeah..just gimme a minute..."

You did, playing with his hair till you realize he was starting to fall asleep.

"Billy?" You ask nudging him.

"....at least pull out...and get under the blanket" he groaned slightly as he moved gently flopping next to you, pulling the blankets up, stretching his legs before he grabbed you by the waist and gently kissed your face.

"Never felt this tired after sex...before..."

"Well lucky me.."

_______________

Yall this was rushed okay, I might write it longer in the future but honestly I'm to lazy to do it right rn. And I don't got any inspiration rn. I promise I'll figure this out. And write better spice.

[heilith]

Never Die

The art and prompt by the very cool Oak_Hawthorn, for the Scribbles and Drabbles 2023

There is a cloaked figure sneaking around in the Elvenking's Halls. They make an effort to remain unseen, but they seem set on a path to the King's treasury. Is it a Man, an Elf, or someone else entirely? What is their purpose here? Are their intentions good or ill?

Enjoy. I myself refuse to read it yet again, so all that might be wrong with it will be corrected later. I hope there are no such things. :) But deep inside I know there are.

@fall-for-tolkien

Never Die.

“A dragon.”

He missed the moment of the intrusion entirely. He harboured no slightest suspicion his Kingdom was a little less than inaccessible. But it was. Not enough for a serious expression of alarm, as he first believed, but quite worthy of some degree of annoyance. 

Giving it a better afterthought now, he couldn’t but admit his vanity had served him a bad turn. The centuries he’d spent keeping the enemy out of the borders of his domain distorted his perception of what he was capable of. Threats turned into challenges, stability – into boredom.

It was only a matter a time until he was outplayed.

“A dragon,” repeated he, still utterly unbelieving. The truth appeared to be so ridiculous he couldn’t build a strategy around it – something that hadn’t happen to him for millennia.

The golden lizard gurgled happily, sucking and gnawing on one his prized silver sceptres.

“You didn’t need that one, Thranduil,” you scratched the creatures head most casually, which only added to the absurdity of the picture, “Eru knows how much time it took him to dig it out of this pile.”  

He felt like laughing. Not because he found your wit deserving of a laugh. Though yes, he did. He wasn’t fooling you and he couldn’t fool himself.

And yet the brainlessness he was witnessing before his very own eyes was beyond any humour.

The little spiky ball of happiness was reeking of evil for miles.

He first sensed it, making his way to the pool chambers. A viscous clot of a stranger aura. He walked into it headfirst and was plunged into the strongest vision he’d ever had a non-pleasure of enduring. A figure in a dark tattered cloak, someone from the outside, someone…

“I should have thought of it.”

Another lie he was forced to utter while searching for the ways to bring together the scraps of his dignity.

“You couldn’t have thought,” you interrupted him with a bold smile. He almost forgot how sweet you could be when you smiled, even if you meant no good, “Who could have dared?”

You could.

Now he could tell exactly why the three times cursed first vision had failed to trouble him enough. Your print on the plane of visions was familiar to him. You radiated the teasing vibes of an old…friend.

The knowing he was still considering you such was bitter.

Another phantom caught up with him a step away from the throne room. The cloak was wrapped around his shoulders this time. A burden in his hands was heavy. He pulled it closer to his chest to keep his balance…In a flash a surge of malicious energy coursed through him. The world blinked. There was no cloak. There was no burden. But the evil was still there.

“What do you want?” the composure was returning to him slowly. He had to stop behaving like he’d become a King two days ago.

“Why, to feed the child…”

The sceptre seemingly forgotten, the dragon spread a pair of ugly webbed wings and toddled to the nearest open chest. His claws were clanking against the floor like fine daggers.

“He cannot fly. Not yet,” you murmured with such tenderness in your voice he took it as a personal offense.  

 “We barely have food to feed ourselves,” he snapped, “And even if we did, what made you think I’d share it with…this.”

“Would you share it with me?”

“Before or after you had joined the ones who were slitting our throats open?”

He sent a mental order to the guards. He should have kept them by the treasury at all times, but who would ever have dared…

You would.

The traps were now everywhere. The shreds of the evil presence were slowly drifting in the corridors, giving him painful jolts each time he was unable to avoid them. The cloaked trespasser was invading his dreams. And no one could not only stop, but even see them.

He was helpless and brimming with ire.  

“I don’t need food, Thranduil. He doesn’t need it. He feeds on owning things. He’s a dragon.”

The guards had stormed in before he had warned them not to touch you. You were someone he craved for getting even with on his own.

You snapped your fingers with the same come-hither smile. The creature raised its head and stared at the soldiers with three limpid eyes, not a single thought in any of them.

The guards stopped short. Desperate, he was watching them turn away and march out of the treasury, as if a silent voice was shouting commands into their backs.

He didn’t protest, when your hand ran against his shoulder soothingly. He was at a loss.

“And that is how we passed by your watchposts. And your guards. And you – just once,” you spoke in a soft voice, as your fingers kept drawing small curving lines along his arms and up to his neck.

“Why did you leave with them?” asked he hoarsely, “For this?”

“They promised they would spare your son, Thranduil. I couldn’t trust you to protect him.”

“Are you still with them?”

You leaned your forehead into his chest. His arm defied his will, slipping around you like it had done so many times before.

“No,” you whispered, “But I will not return. Don’t worry, we won’t stay here for long.”

“And if I beg?”

You laughed again and lifted your hand again.  

A dry sound rolled across the treasury.

[glorf1ndel]

Eyes that fire and sword have seen and Erestor please! ✨

Anon, after over two months, I finally wrote a fic in response to your prompt! I hope you enjoy it. ♡ Also on Ao3 here!

Eyes That Fire and Sword Have Seen (1k, Glorestor)

“Elrond!”

Glancing up from his paperwork, the Lord of Imladris found the captain of the guard suddenly in his office, looking concerned. Honestly, Elrond had expected this moment, and he was surprised that Glorfindel hadn’t come by earlier. He gestured for the other Elf to sit down, but Glorfindel shook his head, blond curls whirling around his shoulders.

“It’s urgent,” Glorfindel said. “Erestor has been in his room with the door locked all day.”

At that, Elrond sighed. He did not have to guess at why. Last night, a traveling Elf had recognized Erestor as one of Fëanor’s former followers. Needless to say, the ensuing conversation had not gone well. Erestor had fled, and since then, he’d apparently been in his room, unwilling to come out.

“Can you blame him?” Elrond asked.

“No, but he can’t sit in there forever. He hasn’t had breakfast or lunch. And I’m sure there’s work he wants to get done instead of ruminating.”

Elrond smiled. The captain of Imladris was always so concerned about his chief counselor. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that Erestor and Glorfindel were courting – but Elrond knew better. Those two could dance around each other for a century without either of them making a real move.

“Have you tried talking to him?”

“Unsuccessfully. I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

Of course. Elrond doubted that Glorfindel had known about Erestor’s past until last night; it was a topic that the counselor rarely discussed. Elrond was only privy to that information as Lord of the Valley, and as someone with a personal connection to the Fëanorians. Erestor and Glorfindel were close friends, but the chief counselor had never wanted the reborn Elf to know about such things.

“Eyes that fire and sword have seen are ever on guard.”

“Elrond...”

“Don't give up,” he urged Glorfindel. “Just take what I said to heart. And keep being yourself."

****

Deep breath, Glorfindel told himself, before knocking on Erestor’s door. He tried to make the knock sound as friendly as possible, but to no avail.

“Go away,” Erestor called. Although the counselor appeared to be sulking, his tone had lost none of its sharpness.

“It’s Glorfindel.”

“Oh,” came a voice, smaller than before. “Definitely go away, then.”

“Come on,” Glorfindel pleaded. “I just want to talk to you. Look, Erestor, you shouldn’t–“ he caught himself, knowing that Erestor loathed being told what to do when he was in a bad mood. “The opinion of some random elf doesn’t matter. So what if he made a fuss about you being a–“

Suddenly, the door opened, and Erestor flung out a hand to grab the collar of Glorfindel’s tunic and pull him inside.

“Don’t talk about it in public, Glorfindel,” he hissed, slamming the door behind them. “For Eru’s sake.”

Glorfindel blushed. He straightened his collar, fingers brushing against the spot where Erestor’s touch had been.

“I thought you Fëanorians had a messy relationship with Eru.”

Erestor gave him a look that made sweet, sunflower-like Glorfindel feel as though he would wither on the spot.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Erestor murmured, yet he was playing with the edge of his shirt sleeve in that way that signaled to Glorfindel that no, he wasn’t fine.

Glorfindel ventured a smile and took a step toward him.

“I just don’t like seeing you like this.”

“What do you expect, Glorfindel?” Erestor scoffed. “They called me a kinslayer to my face. And before you state the obvious, yes, it’s true; I’m certainly aware. That still doesn’t mean I’d like to be reminded of it. I do not feel proud of that time in my life.”

Glorfindel nodded. Then an idea took hold inside his head, and he beamed.

“Well, instead of wallowing in unpleasant memories, let’s go for a stroll through the gardens.”

“What?” Erestor asked flatly.

“Let’s go for a walk!”

“I don’t want to appear in public right now–“

“Come on!”

“Glorfindel, I swear–“

“Fëanorians are banned from swearing!”

****

In the end, after much protest from Erestor, they went for a walk. Glorfindel insisted on putting his arm around Erestor’s, which initially annoyed the counselor, but he relented. In the end, Erestor could not object to being close to Glorfindel. While the captain spoke at length about all of the beautiful flowers in the garden, many of which he’d planted himself during his spare time, Erestor stayed quiet.

“And these daffodils really took off this year. I’m delighted. Last year, they were kind of… I don’t know, droopy? Like Lindir’s face after someone insults his lute playing.”

“Glorfindel,” Erestor began, stopping in front of a bench. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on a rose to his right, not meeting the captain’s eyes. “Why are you trying so hard to cheer me up?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Erestor hesitated. He sat down on the bench, and Glorfindel followed suit. His mind was still racing with thoughts of last night. Of the Elf that had spat in his face and hissed, Kinslayer. Which, understandably, brought… Other thoughts to mind, of staring down at his blood-soaked hands and not being able to recognize them.

“I suppose I’m not used to–” Someone looking at me like I’m Arien shining in the sky, his mind supplied, but he didn’t voice the words.

“You are dear to me,” Glorfindel said, “As you are.” It was so honest and open, Erestor felt himself holding back tears.

“You’re going to make an old Elda cry,” Erestor said, managing a laugh instead.

“Oh, come on. You’re not that old.” Glorfindel reached for Erestor’s hand and pressed a small kiss to the inside of his palm. “I would very much prefer to hear you laugh again.”

At that, Erestor’s small smile widened. For a long time, he had thought that he’d followed Fëanor to a place past the point of no return. It was only after living in Imladris that Erestor realized there was a place beyond that one: somewhere he could call home. And Glorfindel was essential to it all.

“Spend more time in my company, and maybe you will.”

****

And if Elrond, admiring the gardens from his balcony, happened to see his chief counselor and captain share a kiss, then he simply grinned and said nothing.