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I wrote another Elrondriel fic (Smut! Actual and real smut!?!!) (please help me I have wips and actual work assignments but I keep procrastinating). I’m basically trying to exorcise these two out of my mind, let’s see if it works.

Summary:

“You might give me the wrong idea, saying things like that,” there was no smile in his voice now. He sounded almost angry. Galadriel found that she liked that anger. “What sort of idea?“ “I would almost think-,” he smiled, voice still unable to hide the hardness in it, reaching blindly for a towel on the bed behind him. “I would almost think that you want me.”

This one is smut, which as a person on the ace spectrum who has struggled to even READ smut, I fear is an achievement I will absolutely never be able to top. I still cannot believe that I wrote this without crying in frustration.

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Annatar sticker today ✨

It’s a tweaked version of my older illustration, because I’d already made him and he was right there ready-made for me to use

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Haladriel Coffee Shop AU Week, August 3-9!

Introducing the Coffee Shop AU Week! The event will be run from August 3-9, and to participate in the evemt, use the hashtag #haladrielcoffeeshopauweek. An AO3 collection will open closer to the start of the event.

What Are the Content Expectations?

You can submit fanfiction, fanart, gifsets, and any other type of fan-created work to the event. The work must focus on the Sauron/Galadriel ship in some way, though if you want to focus on an OT3 with them and someone else, that will be accepted. All ratings will be accepted. What I won't accept are works created using AI.

The theme of the event is around coffee shop aus, so please keep your works on that theme. That being said, you can use whatever genre you wish, whether it be fluff, smut, etc.

Who Can Participate?

Anyone, even people who don't normally write for this ship! If you are blocked, though, you will not be reblogged and I will likely remove your work from the collection.

What are the Prompts?

I have more of a...moodboard I guess?

You can become inspired by this. You can do your own thing. It's just there to spark some imagination if anyone needs it.

Coffee Shop AU Week Menu:

Mocha -- Espresso & Chocolate, Dark Notes

Chai Latte -- Tea & Steamed Milk, Warm Spices

Cafe Au Lait -- Drip Coffee & Milk, Velvety Finish

Ristretto -- Concentrated Espresso, Intense

Macchiato -- Espresso & Foamed Milk, Mild Flavor

Caramel Latte -- Espresso, Milk, & Caramel, Sweet Notes

Frozen Latte -- Espresso, Milk, & Ice

Hot White Russian -- Espresso & Kahlua, Boozy Finish

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I was chatting with a friend yesterday about some of the more ridiculous anon comments we've gotten recently on ao3, and we decided that "You're a menace to literature" needed to be on a coffee mug. Being me, I got a bit carried away. So, I dusted off ye olde redbubble account and made some silliness.

Did I mention getting carried away? Because now there is a whole collection. This one may be my personal favorite:

Anywayyyy redbubble is having a 25% off sale at the moment so now is the time!

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And it’s done! Haladriel modern noir AU. Slightly unhinged ending like any good noir worth its salt should have.

Each Scar I Carve is in Your Name

E | 4/4 | 25k

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I finished this!!! Chapter 5/5 now online! 28k words☺️

Rating: M for violence

Character(s)/Ship(s): Sauron, Zigur, Sauron/Galadriel and other relationships I don't want to spoil

Content Warning(s): violence, torture, blood

Subject tags: inspired by a christmas carol (but not necessary christmasy), angst, redemption, visions, illusions*

Summary: Sauron is in Numenor as Zigur ready to approach his darkest deeds when a visitor disturbs his long crafted vision (the fic experiences the question what would make Sauron turn)

Many many thanks to @myrsinemezzo 🥰

Preview:

What if it all is not worth it? Isn’t the risk too great? What if it will never end? It need not be the future, but it is a possible one. If he doesn’t change, if he does not turn around, it will go round and round in endless circles.

He does not want to walk this path anymore. It is as if he had never seen before, but now he sees, now he sees everything right here.

He has been stuck in the labyrinth of his own mind, has buried himself deep within the lost, lonely shell of himself, desperately trying to escape, desperately trying to shelter others from what has been done to him, and in the end that has only been possible by inflicting it on them himself. More destruction, more ruins, more smoke.

He was never a destroyer, he was always a creator. Yet he has lost his way somewhere in the past.

Now he sees, now he has watched this Maiar, his own soul, from the outside. It is a different perspective, but clarity comes with distance, when you take yourself out of that loop you have sewn yourself into. When someone finally cuts the thread and you let yourself fall.

And he’s falling

like a drop of rain.

He’s falling

like a shadow

losing its body

and Sauron’s falling into the depths of the unspeakable truth.

I have many names. It whispers in the darkness, loathed words, always spoken to assure him of what he wasn’t.

Every name a lie, a deception against his own despair, his flight from acceptance.

Yet acceptance has finally found its way to him, reached out its hand, grabbed him, pulled him close, entangled him. And as he is surrounded by its grip, he suddenly finds that it is not strangling him.

He trembles, he coughs, it is difficult to get any kind of air, but he does not faint. He stays on top of the pain, he perseveres.

He may have had many names, but he has become one only. He is only one.

Sauron. The abhorred.

There is a wide, long, dark tunnel that takes him in, swallows him with the darkness he knows very well, to where he belongs. And he falls, and he falls, and falls.

No more despair, no more ache fills the deep emptiness, only earth-shattering regret.

He waits for his soul to end his existence, rightly so, but there is nothing.

He falls but he never touches the ground.

Will he float forever in oblivion, just like the spirits had shown him?

But then there is something.

Read more on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61540693/chapters/157328254

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I finished this!!! Chapter 5/5 now online! 28k words☺️

Rating: M for violence

Character(s)/Ship(s): Sauron, Zigur, Sauron/Galadriel and other relationships I don't want to spoil

Content Warning(s): violence, torture, blood

Subject tags: inspired by a christmas carol (but not necessary christmasy), angst, redemption, visions, illusions*

Summary: Sauron is in Numenor as Zigur ready to approach his darkest deeds when a visitor disturbs his long crafted vision (the fic experiences the question what would make Sauron turn)

Many many thanks to @myrsinemezzo 🥰

Preview:

What if it all is not worth it? Isn’t the risk too great? What if it will never end? It need not be the future, but it is a possible one. If he doesn’t change, if he does not turn around, it will go round and round in endless circles.

He does not want to walk this path anymore. It is as if he had never seen before, but now he sees, now he sees everything right here.

He has been stuck in the labyrinth of his own mind, has buried himself deep within the lost, lonely shell of himself, desperately trying to escape, desperately trying to shelter others from what has been done to him, and in the end that has only been possible by inflicting it on them himself. More destruction, more ruins, more smoke.

He was never a destroyer, he was always a creator. Yet he has lost his way somewhere in the past.

Now he sees, now he has watched this Maiar, his own soul, from the outside. It is a different perspective, but clarity comes with distance, when you take yourself out of that loop you have sewn yourself into. When someone finally cuts the thread and you let yourself fall.

And he’s falling

like a drop of rain.

He’s falling

like a shadow

losing its body

and Sauron’s falling into the depths of the unspeakable truth.

I have many names. It whispers in the darkness, loathed words, always spoken to assure him of what he wasn’t.

Every name a lie, a deception against his own despair, his flight from acceptance.

Yet acceptance has finally found its way to him, reached out its hand, grabbed him, pulled him close, entangled him. And as he is surrounded by its grip, he suddenly finds that it is not strangling him.

He trembles, he coughs, it is difficult to get any kind of air, but he does not faint. He stays on top of the pain, he perseveres.

He may have had many names, but he has become one only. He is only one.

Sauron. The abhorred.

There is a wide, long, dark tunnel that takes him in, swallows him with the darkness he knows very well, to where he belongs. And he falls, and he falls, and falls.

No more despair, no more ache fills the deep emptiness, only earth-shattering regret.

He waits for his soul to end his existence, rightly so, but there is nothing.

He falls but he never touches the ground.

Will he float forever in oblivion, just like the spirits had shown him?

But then there is something.

Read more on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61540693/chapters/157328254

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Chapter 3 ☺️

Galadriel was actually surprised Halbrand knew about this place.

She had been here a few times before, but not that much lately. Returning to this corner felt like stepping through a waterfall into an enchanted cave, for the place was very different this time.

The air felt clear and fresh, and the there was a rosy golden shimmer floating in the morning light. A special aura was stirring all around her. She had never been here at this time of the day before and her heart leapt a little as she became overwhelmed by all the new sensations.

But it was not only the time of day that was different, it was also as if someone had breathed new life into this forgotten palace at the back of the castle. She stopped in front of the well that stood in the left corner of the place and turned around, her mouth and eyes wide open.

The many days Galadriel spent here, this place had been like a blank wall or a tapestry allowing her to paint and weave all the different stories. She had always imagined what this chapel of loneliness would look like with the walls in full bloom and the little hidden well girded by flowers or ivy. And now it looked exactly like this all around her. Leaves and late-blooming blossoms had clothed the entire surrounding in a dress of colourful autumn.

Halbrand moved closer, smiling at her.There was some kind of magic swelling in the air, almost impossible to ignore, almost impossible not to let her stomach tingle with anticipation.

He sat down on the bench of stone on the other side of this half-rounded retreat. It was like the inside of a tower, but the sky opened up above them and the walls were not as high, only on one side were the castle walls raised up. The light looked hazy and blurred by the dust.

Galadriel slowly walked over to him and also sat down on the cold stones. She looked over to him and seeing his now more serious face, she stared at the round well again. They sat there for a while in an unbearable state of limbo between distance and closeness. A balance carefully held. Even in his sitting position he maintained a very upright posture, keeping his hands accurately clasped in his lap. When Galadriel's gaze swept over to him, she could see that he was holding a book.

(continue on AO3)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60159784/chapters/169085665

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fic: in the core of everything drums a beat

[Senua’s Saga: Hellblade II; Mature, WIP, a Thórgestr-centric Redemption Arc fic with slowburn Senua/Thórgestr - read the new chapter on AO3 here] [chapter one post | rough draft excerpts post]

“It is good to see you awake,” Senua says once he has caught his breath, though he leans heavy into the bedding, worn out from even so little an effort. “I thought…” She trails off, moving away, and he reaches almost without thinking to grasp her hand and to rest her palm against the unmarred side of his chest. “Don’t worry,” he says, trying to pull a smile to his face. His voice is stronger, at least, though still threaded with weariness and the pain he is determined to ignore. “It will take much more than a sword cut to send me to Hela.” Awakening from illness, Thórgestr learns what has happened over the past few days in Borgarvirki.

I'm posting chapter 2 to celebrate the anniversary of the release date of the game! Thank you to everyone who has been reading and encouraging me with this fic. It’s still an ongoing long labor of love, and I appreciate you all!

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Chapter 3 ☺️

Galadriel was actually surprised Halbrand knew about this place.

She had been here a few times before, but not that much lately. Returning to this corner felt like stepping through a waterfall into an enchanted cave, for the place was very different this time.

The air felt clear and fresh, and the there was a rosy golden shimmer floating in the morning light. A special aura was stirring all around her. She had never been here at this time of the day before and her heart leapt a little as she became overwhelmed by all the new sensations.

But it was not only the time of day that was different, it was also as if someone had breathed new life into this forgotten palace at the back of the castle. She stopped in front of the well that stood in the left corner of the place and turned around, her mouth and eyes wide open.

The many days Galadriel spent here, this place had been like a blank wall or a tapestry allowing her to paint and weave all the different stories. She had always imagined what this chapel of loneliness would look like with the walls in full bloom and the little hidden well girded by flowers or ivy. And now it looked exactly like this all around her. Leaves and late-blooming blossoms had clothed the entire surrounding in a dress of colourful autumn.

Halbrand moved closer, smiling at her.There was some kind of magic swelling in the air, almost impossible to ignore, almost impossible not to let her stomach tingle with anticipation.

He sat down on the bench of stone on the other side of this half-rounded retreat. It was like the inside of a tower, but the sky opened up above them and the walls were not as high, only on one side were the castle walls raised up. The light looked hazy and blurred by the dust.

Galadriel slowly walked over to him and also sat down on the cold stones. She looked over to him and seeing his now more serious face, she stared at the round well again. They sat there for a while in an unbearable state of limbo between distance and closeness. A balance carefully held. Even in his sitting position he maintained a very upright posture, keeping his hands accurately clasped in his lap. When Galadriel's gaze swept over to him, she could see that he was holding a book.

(continue on AO3)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60159784/chapters/169085665

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Chapter 13: Where are we?

Where are we?

Where are we?

It’s not even a voice, merely a whisper, or rather just a breeze of the winds and that’s all there is in this place.

Then the air climaxes and the clouds come closer, wrap you in, the thickness fills your lungs.

“Are you alone?”

“Are we alone?” Another voice asks.

No one answers.

Are we?

Are you free of it?

Do you know why you’re here?

Do you know why I called you?

There’s a slight touch of a hand. Two presences lost in nowhere, completely surrounded by ghosts they don’t know. Surrendered to a foe they can’t grasp. Their greatest challenge.

But are they alone?

***

There is no sense of distance or immediacy in this bizarre place of oblivion, but somehow someone is trying to enter. Who will take the first step? Who will begin to release what is holding them back into the lukewarm air so that they can transcend?

***

Have you ever known how to lose the tension that wraps the world in? 

It is a murmur, but it grows stronger with every splintered word. 

I...

A clearing of the throat like a crackle in the silence.

We… share a similar past.

When the first words touch the air, it gets easier, or so it seems.

(Continue on AO3) Thank you so much for reading and any comment or kudos 🥰

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48105754/chapters/167176270

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Quick A.J Lockwood sketch!

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An attempt at show Lucy 🙏

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The star crossed lovers who chose different paths, but may one day, at the end of all things, be reunited....

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The star crossed lovers who chose different paths, but may one day, at the end of all things, be reunited....

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Second chapter is up ☺️ so excited about this one!

She will come out of free will. It had whispered in the trees.

They still stood there, facing each other in the darkness.

For a moment there was a complete, utter silence that rang in her ears. She felt through her entire body, deep into the abyss of her mind, but she couldn't feel fear seizing her. She waited for it, almost longed for the desperate force taking control, but it never came.

What Galadriel felt so hauntingly close, so palpably near, was the breath of this man brushing over her head. Then as he moved his head only a little, his air breezed slightly down her cheeks, even reaching out to the corners of her lips with a hesitant vibration, and as she inhaled hesitantly, she could feel his breath entering her lungs, drops of oxygen warmer than she had expected filling her. And she swallowed his breath of life.

Willingly? She did not turn, she did not move an inch, but she rose to him, took another breath. So yes, it was willingly. And she persisted in the darkness.

His presence, his breath smelled of sweat and winning fights and of smoke and ashes.

After all the light, the elegance that had blessed her life, this was a refreshing contact.

"You are not afraid of the dark." His deep voice suddenly shattered the chamber and his breath was pushed over her again. It was not a question and she did not answer.

Without another word, he removed himself from the space of proximity between them. She could almost feel it getting colder around her without his steady exhalation.

The sudden emptiness made her shiver. Where before every breath had been like an exchanged conversation, now she allowed herself just to gasp for air. And then, without warning, a flame lit up the room. Galadriel closed her eyes abruptly lest she be overwhelmed by the unexpected brightness.

The broad frame of the knight without his obscure armour had turned to the table beneath one of those stained glass windows and brought a spark to a candle. The flame had a lot of power for such a small one. The shadows flickered up the high walls to the pillars, where the light would repel spiders even in the darkest corners. Galadriel had to admit that she was glad for a little light. She had proved that she could dwell in the darkness, but would it have to be for long?

He turned slowly, candle in his hand, and returned to that very spot opposite her. Galadriel adjusted her posture. From one moment to another, it somehow felt even more threatening now that she could see him and he could see her.

Continue on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60159784/chapters/168514387#workskin

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I’ve been thinking about drawing the panic attack scene for a while now, but recently I had the idea to revise it as a future sweet moment between them 🥰 Ballpoint pen of course!