#whatever i stand by it

[scyllas-revenge]

Just read your “leap of faith” fic for Legolas and I have say I absolutely adore your writing style! Would it be possible for you to do a drabble or some rough ideas on what he would act like in the morning after waking up?

Thank you so much!! Honestly, that wasn't a fic I really planned to write more of, but your ask got my extremely rusty brain back to writing, so thank you! I'm not sure I succeeded at the style I was going for here, but it was fun to give it a try. I hope you like it!

(and @heilith I remember you requested to be tagged in my next Legolas content, so here you go!)

Leap of Faith, Part 2

aka even more Only One Bed shenanigans

Legolas/reader (gender-neutral)

Word count: 1100

Rating: G

Read part 1 here!

Legolas wakes to the sound of his name, but does not hurry to open his eyes. Your voice is a thing of beauty, as it always is, and he sighs a soft smile at the sound, willing the outside world away.

Soon his name is on your lips again, a bit more insistently this time. He shakes his head faintly. Not yet. Mortal sleep is a new experience for him, and he would indulge in it a few moments more. 

Now your hand presses against his shoulder. Regretfully, Legolas allows himself to be jostled into real wakefulness at last, where he finds you lying beside him, soft morning light streaming in through the inn’s faded curtains.

Your body is still curled toward him under the blankets. 

Concern pinches at your brow as you study him. You have never seen him sleep with his eyes closed—is he unwell? But then, perhaps elves never feel unwell. The wry laugh in your words does not fully disguise the sudden pain behind your eyes—perhaps you are reminded, as he so often is, of the immeasurable gulf between you, mortal and immortal, human and elf.

But you were never one to dwell overmuch on such heavy matters—you rest a hand against his forehead, half-teasing, as though to check for fever. Burning up, you inform him, your solemn pronouncement betrayed by the grin playing on your lips. Alas, he is quite unwell indeed! You fear his days are numbered. He had best get his affairs in order.

Legolas does not return your laugh. He will feel unwell in truth, he knows, the moment he must rise from this bed and carry on his journey with you, pretending he did not hear you whisper his name in your sleep, pretending he did not succumb to mortal dreams by your side. But he must give you an answer, and such a confession will not do. 

He was curious, he admits at last. It is no lie—not even a half-truth, for he is burning with curiosity, has burned ever since he met you. It is a weak answer, but it seems to satisfy you, and you smile at him more earnestly. 

Your hand still rests on his forehead, as though you’d quite forgotten to remove it. 

Have you shifted nearer to him? He does not think so. Yet the distance between you now seems unbearably small, intimate, your legs half-entwined under the blankets, his hair touching yours on your pillow. Nearly a lover’s embrace.

It is improper, Legolas thinks to himself, the instinct to scramble back rising in his throat. His curiosity has always warred with nervousness around you, the desire to at once surge forward and retreat often keeping him at a standstill entirely. But you speak again, and his eyes are drawn to the movement of your lips, so hypnotizing that you are forced to repeat yourself twice before he understands. 

Has his curiosity been satisfied, then? Now that he has had a taste of mortal sleep? Your eyes crinkle with laughter, the sound dancing soft and intimate between you. Mortal sleep is quite dull, after all, and you fear he must be disappointed. You shake your head ruefully, your hand leaving his forehead only to brush, agonizingly, against his cheek as you draw away—

“No.” Legolas's hand grasps your retreating wrist before you are aware of it.

His voice is still soft, the half-hushed restraint of early morning that you, like all mortals, seem to favor, but you cannot fail to sense the change in it, a flame igniting the word, low and rasping and hungry.

You lay frozen for a moment, your lungs scarcely drawing breath. But an answering flame sparks behind your eyes, and you raise your brow at him. “No...you are not disappointed? Or no, you are not satisfied?”

Softly you return your hand to Legolas’s face, your fingers trailing tentatively over his cheekbone, his jaw, the shell of his ear, shaped so unlike your own. His heart soars at your touch, and he laughs softly for sheer joy. “How could you disappoint me?" His hand falls to your waist, drawing you nearer. "In the waking world and in sleep, there is delight to me in all you do.”

“I am glad.” Heat blooms on your cheeks, but your fingers continue to play over his face, his neck, his hair, and your smile now is a thing of fire. You lean in closer than ever, and he wishes it might burn him. “And how could I satisfy you?”

Oh, there can be no doubt, now, that you feel as he does. The little bedroom seems suddenly to be made of gold, the morning sun sinking into his skin as though this is the first sunrise ever to grace Middle-Earth, the world born anew before him. Yet for all his elation Legolas knows not how to answer—he wants too much, far more than he can ask of you, and he fears his curiosity will never be satisfied.

Smiling all the wider for his silence, you take pity on him, tapping a playful finger against his chest as though in thought. “Perhaps I might tell you what I dreamed of last night. Will that do?” 

Your touch burns over his collarbone, his neck, his jaw, until your thumb sweeps softly over his lower lip. He swallows hard. He sees your sleeping face again, branded into his memory, your lashes fluttering, lips parting as you murmur his name. No, he thinks. It is not enough. “Perhaps you might show me instead.”

There is a heat beyond fire in your smile now, a heat to rival the rising sun. You know as well as he that this alone will not satisfy either of you, that this will begin something new and terrifying, a leap of faith far greater than the one he had taken last night in lying down beside you and closing his eyes. Yet he does not mean to retreat, and nor, it seems, do you. 

“Hmm. It will do, for a start.” 

Legolas is still chuckling fondly at your answer when you press his name against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair. As you pull his body flush against yours, sighing as he parts your lips to taste the joy and trust and desire on your tongue, his fears and doubts vanish like summer fog, for he knows you have faith in each other utterly. 

He knows that when you take this leap together, you will fly.

[insertsickusername13]

Rich fell first but Jake fell harder ❤️

[insert image of two broken legs here]

[marlinspirkhall]

It fucks me up when Americans write Tuesday phonetically as “Chewsday”, because that's also how it's pronounced in an American accent. It's not unique to London English.

[booksandventingaboutlife]

happy birthday victoria spring

[devilwizard]

Dumbass. What do you think she’s doing with all the books in the first place? We have a long an fruitful relationship. By the time you arm wrestled her she was an ordained warlock of the Nine Gates and Keeper of the Tomes of Indecency. And as we all know, you have to be at least as physically strong as a gorilla on steroids in order to become the Keeper.

Get his ass, Gertrude.

[the-meme-monarch]

thought ‘what if the vintage skins were more in line with actual 1930’s cartoons design sensibilities’ and promptly went mental. plus a bonus two-tone dandy ! since he’s not playable and all

so some things i learned as i was doing this:

-solo cups were not invented until the 70s, so scraps has a tin can as part of her tail instead

-hoodies WERE invented in the 30s but were generally worn by warehouse workers bc of the cold. they didn’t get worn by the general public until the 70s, so toodles and cosmo are Not wearing them

-leg warmers were invented in the 40s but also didn’t get popular until the 70s so glisten’s legs get to be naked. sad !

-GASHAPONS WEREN’T INVENTED UNTIL THE 60s. GIGI SHOULDN’T EVEN EXIST HERE. BUT I DIDN’T FIND THAT OUT UNTIL I WAS DONE DRAWING ALL THIS. OOPS !!!

other than that it was just a lot of ‘put gloves and/or shoes and/or pants on them. sometimes noses’

under the cut is All of them together and then also the sketch :]

[bloobydabloob]

Look at that beautifully low quality. He will never switch apps halfway through again

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

his therapist woulda had a field day at their next appointment

[gender-luster]

"love is in the air" wrong! that's the buildup of static electricity before the discharge of lightning. you'll want to seek cover. quickly

[egophiliac]

IT WAS ERIC AFTER ALL!!!! I'm so glad we got to meet him (before Vil snaps him away with those Infinity Gauntlets) (can't wait to see what happens when we get the matching Infinity Tiara to go with them, there will be no survivors)

(sorry to be so slow/rough lately, just got a lot of stuff on the ol' brain at the moment! alas, if only I could spend all my time drawing incredibly stupid characters I mean I do but)

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

MORE FIDDLESTANMAY PLEASE I AM BEGGIN ON MY HANDS AND KNEES!

You don't have to beg, my friend, I am happy to supply 🙌‼️‼️

Pajamas ⁉️

[hamable]

Riz giving Fabian disadvantage while getting a gold tattoo in hell is killing me for two reasons:

1. Fabian receives disadvantage on remaining calm and conscious because his best friend can’t stop making nervous eye contact, and

2. Said best friend is canonically covered in less-than-advisable tattoos of clues from a previous adventure.

BONUS

3: Riz immediately passes out

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where Luo Binghe's the chosen village sacrifice to the evil deity who lives up the mountain.

Normally the village sends maidens, but they've more or less run out of expendable girls of the right age and, ahem, "virtues". So of course Luo Binghe's early life bad luck kicks in. In the wake of his mother's death there's no one to really care about what happens to him, he's fairly pretty, and the village leaders decide that if they dress him up like a girl the teenaged homeless kid should pass well enough. And hey, y'know, he's probably got a hard life ahead for him anyway -- dying in a brothel of some venereal disease or on the streets of exposure or starvation. At least as a sacrifice, everyone else gets to benefit from his loss! And the kid will get added to a shrine and be remembered as a hero! If anything, he should be happy about this!

Binghe is not happy about this.

But he's also a skinny underfed nobody who is easily overpowered, dressed up like a bride, and tied to a post. So. Not much he can do but wait for the evil deity to come and do whatever horrible thing he's gonna do to him.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is pretty sure he's been isekai'd into the over-powered hero of some kind of supernatural adventure story? He's not totally sure because he doesn't recognize the setting, but the signs are there. He's got a shrine-like base of operations (though it seems to have become corrupted/ruined, probably he has to restore it somehow), he has a very resilient and handsome new body with spiritual energy of some kind flowing through him, and a very clearly magical sword. Plus lots of neat starter powers! Though it feels like he has other abilities that have been blocked somehow? Probably he has to level up in order to access them.

When he treks out of his "base" and finds what seems to be a distressed maiden, he takes it for his beginner hero mission. The girl claims that she's been doomed to be sacrificed to an evil god. That sounds a little above Shen Yuan's pay grade for dealing with, so he unties her and decides that they had better just get out of the whole region altogether. He already packed up anything useful from his base, anticipating he might get caught up in an adventure once he left, so they follow the river away from the settlement until they reach another one.

While they travel, Luo Binghe tells Shen Yuan about the cursed deity, Shen Qingqiu, who was cast out of the heavens for slaughtering one of his brethren and has apparently being do-who-knows what to maidens from the local village in exchange for his "protection" ever since. Sounds like a real asshole! And also mid-level boss type bad guy at least. Shen Yuan hopes he doesn't have to fight him, but he probably will.

Thank goodness he found Binghe, though! Clearly the helpful little sister type! He's definitely going to require her assistance if he's going to figure out how to navigate this world and level up his skills enough to take on a god.

[pa-pa-plasma]

love fics where Danny ends up in the DC universe & every alarm goes off at once & the magic users are like "yeah that's the most powerful being in the universe & also possibly super evil we are FUCKED fucked" & the Justice League is freaking tf out trying to find this thing that casually tore a hole in reality & it just cuts to Danny (Fenton) standing in the background blissfully unaware & like "man my life sucks but at least i have this candy bar—" *drops it in a puddle*

[megamindsupremacy]

So like, y'all know that popular Star Wars fic trope of Time Traveling Obi-Wan Kenobi where he dies and then wakes up in his 11ish year old body back in the Jedi Temple? You know how usually he wakes up, has a few minutes/hours of confusion, and then goes about trying to act like he was at age 11 while slowly fixing everything wrong with the Jedi Order? Personally I think he would not do that.

I think that Ben "Lived As A Wizard Hermit For Two Decades On Tattooine, Left, And Then Died Immediately" Kenobi would wake up as an eleven-year-old, have a panic attack, attack the nearest adult Jedi while accusing them of Doing Weird Sith Shit To His Brain, fucking flee, only then realize he has time traveled, steal someone's ship, go flying out of the temple to god knows where, continue panicking, crash into a random moon while distracted, nearly die, build a survival camp out of his broken ass ship and eat whatever bugs he can find, get kidnapped by pirates, overthrow said pirates, steal their ship, and then very calmly return to the Jedi temple like nothing happened.

Then and only then do I think he would start trying to act like a normal human person (while also dodging questions such as "what the fuck was that" and "where were you" and "is that a pirate's ship?"), except he'd be bad at it due to having lived as an Insane Wizard Desert Hermit for the past twenty years who has experienced enough trauma and time that he doesn't super well remember the details of his childhood, what with all of the wars and death and wars and such.

His acting convinces nobody, but nobody is sure what exactly to do about All Of That so he's for the most part left alone (after very vehemently refusing sptherapy), all the way up until he catches a glimpse of palpatine out of the corner of his eye and then its On Sight

[alexotls]

crossover