#EVERYBODY LIVES

[ollyrewind]

With you, I serve

With you, I fall down

Watch you breathe in

Watch you breathing out

[nap-mak]

LOTR in a modern world headcanons? I think yes.

I did this on one of my old accounts that i ended up deleting for some reason, i don’t remember, but here. Back on my Lord Of The Rings BS, let’s gooooo. This’ll be the fellowship with everyone intact, no one is dead.

As always requests are open and let me know if you want more!

LOTR x GN! Reader, general headcanons for if you had to take care of them today, in 2023. Enjoy!

The ring most likely has no power in this dimension, so yay Frodo is free from torment!

Sam loves watching cooking, gardening and home renovation shows, and he gets very invested in the former two. You learn a lot you didn’t really need to know from his commentary

Once Pippin learns about pyjamas and fuzzy slippers he never goes back, you literally cannot get him out of them

Boromir and Aragorn, being human and coincidentally two of the most responsible members of the fellowship, are the easiest to take in public to the grocery store and such.

You can pass off the hobbits (if they cover their ears with their hair) as children, and Gimli is your friend with dwarfism.

Gandalf you can pass off as your grandfather, and Legolas looks pretty normal if you cover his ears.

Pippin is the type to bounce in his seat in the car and ask “Are we there yet?!” every 5 minutes

Frodo really likes to draw, especially when there’s so many cool places and movies to draw inspiration from.

Movie nights? No horrors. The hobbits are terrified by ‘em.

Movie nights are literally so difficult because they all have such different tastes

Merry really likes James Bond movies.

Pippin is obsessed with nail polish when you introduce him to it. Boromir gets his repainted every time the polish come off. His nails need serious help after a while

Pippin and Merry often start pillow fights, and drag everyone else into it

If you have space for a garden or plants in your home, Sam is on it. He finds it calming, so now you have some home grown plants :)

Taking the hobbits in public? Bad idea. You can trust Frodo and Sam, but Merry inevitably drags Pippin off to do something dumb and possibly dangerous.

Gandalf has an old man rocker. There is no discussion.

The hobbits do the classic “getting one sibling to ask for fast food because whoever’s in charge will say yes”, they get Frodo to do this because he has the best puppy dog face and he’s unsure about asking for things normally.

Pippin and Merry cannot handle too much caffeine or sugar or they go crazy

You thought Legolas’ hair was good before? He steals your hair care products and his hair is literally perfect.

(He’s also willing to do skincare with you, not that his face needs it. Again, flawless)

Game nights are so chaotic. You can’t play a lot of games since they don’t know what many things from this world are, so games like Trivia and Charades are off the table

Gimli and Legolas verse each other in video games, often enough it ends with Legolas winning and Gimli rage quitting

Aragorn is so responsible he’s literally the perfect man to do anything with, and he can hold the fort down if you need to leave

Pippin is so clingy, he trails you wherever you go and asks you random questions but it’s adorable

Boromir insists on carrying your stuff, bags of groceries, all that

Frodo often goes to the library to find new books to read, with you of course

There’s a whole debate on whether 3D or 2D animation is better, i would not get involved if i were you.

Pippin and Merry are also avid fans of quoting their favourite movies, once they see them

Legolas and Frodo are the best listeners, they will just sit there and not judge or try to give you advice they just. sit there. like the perfect men they are.

Legolas would have a meme for everything. Like any situation. You text him like “PIPPIN FELL DOWN SOME WELL WE DON’T EVEN HAVE A WELL HELP” and he just has a meme that fits the situation perfectly.

Frodo and Legolas would watch Avatar: The Last Airbender together because it’s their favourite show. Aragorn jumps in also.

Those three are also avid tea drinkers.

Boromir likes Game Of Thrones. I don’t know anything about it, he just does. Please confiscate Pippin while he does.

Pippin gasps dramatically whenever a plot twist surprises him.

Sam loves to cook, and he does a lot of cooking in the house once he arrives. You two just work together in the kitchen (if you can’t cook, he’ll teach you) and have nice sweet conversations

Legolas is great at doing people’s hair. If you ask him to, he’d probably agree, though he’d probably be a bit flustered as that is a courting ritual in his culture.

Ask Legolas to talk to you until you fall asleep. His voice is so heavenly istg-

The hobbits get sleepy when their hair is played with and it’s adorable

Won’t lie this hyperfixation came back then it circled back to TMNT and today i watched these films with my friend and now i’m back to LotR love. Most of this has been sitting in my drafts for a couple weeks.

Anyway, I think that’s about it from me, I hope you guys enjoy! :)

If you want to request, rules are pinned on my page! Let me know if you want a general part two or a set of modern headcanons for a specific character. I love LOTR in the modern world content so much.

Have a good day, and remember that you are loved!

[rynneer]

Misty Memories Cold

When you wake in Fíli’s bed with no recollection of anything after a disaster in Mirkwood, he’s ready to risk anything, even his uncle’s wrath, to bring back what you had together.

Cold.

You’re cold. It’s dark. You’re falling. Someone reaches for you. Too late.

The water folds in around you. It floods your nose. It floods your ears. Your limbs don’t work. You can’t swim.

Muffled shouts. You open your mouth to cry back. It fills with water.

Choking.

Drowning.

Drowning.

Drowning drowning drowning dr–

You wake with a jolt, sitting up in bed.

Bed?

You pat the sheets around you. Yes, you’re definitely in a bed, not curled up on the leaf litter in Mirkwood.

“I guess it really was a dream,” you whisper, shoulders slumping. But as you run your fingers across the hem of the blanket, you frown. It doesn’t feel like the old quilt on your bed. It’s thicker, softer.

Something is wrong.

You look around the room as your eyes begin to adjust. There’s a fireplace across the room, the dying embers casting just enough light to let you make out the vague shapes of furniture in the darkness. The walls and floor are stone, adorned with plush rugs. The wind rattles the shutters outside the window, hidden behind thick curtains.

This is not your bedroom… and you are not alone. A dark figure stirs next to you beneath the covers. You scramble out of bed but find the floor farther away than expected. You land hard on your side. “Ow!”

You slap your hand over your mouth, but it’s too late. The figure sits up with a groan, rubbing at its face and leaning to peer over the edge of the bed at you. There’s no mistaking that mustache, those braids.

“Fíli? What… where are we?” And why are we in bed together?

Fíli blinks a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asks hoarsely, his voice rough. He rolls out of bed and kneels in front of you. “We’re home. In Erebor? You know, the mountain? Big pile of rocks and snow? It’s rather hard to miss.” He raises an eyebrow, trying to coax a smile from you.

Instead, you scoot backwards, putting space between you and the prince as you process his words. “But we were just in Mirkwood,” you protest. “How did we get here?”

Fíli’s confusion turns to concern. “Y/N, that was a year ago.” He shifts closer and brushes a thumb over your cheek. “Are you feeling alright?”

You stiffen against his touch, heart in your throat. Ever the gentleman, he’s never touched you without permission before. But something about the way his palm cups your face feels familiar. “I don’t know,” you whisper, shaking your head. “All I remember is falling into the stream.”

“You don’t remember the elves? Fighting for the mountain? All the time we spent together?” He uncovers a long braid in your hair. “Our wedding?”

“Wedding?!” It’s true, you’ve harbored feelings for Fíli since the two of you met in Bag End. You’d admired him in the book and movies, and to see him for real… it did something to you. But you never thought he would return your affections—how could he? You’re a plain, young woman from another world, and he’s a handsome prince, heir to the throne.

Fíli searches your face, expression unreadable. Finally, he stands, offering you his hand. “Come on.”

You take it hesitantly. His fingers lace through yours, and he helps you to your feet. Strangely, you find that instead of being taller than the dwarf, you’re just level with his chin. But before you can comment on this, Fíli pulls you out the door and down a narrow hallway.

He leads you to a large sitting room, taking you to the sofa next to yet another fireplace. “Wait here,” he orders softly. “I’ll fetch Thorin.”

“Thorin’s alive?” you breathe. “What about Kíli?”

“Kíli would like to know what the pair of you are doing up and chattering in the middle of the night,” replies a voice from behind you. The youngest Durin leans against the wall with his arms crossed, hair still tousled from sleep.

You tip back your head and close your eyes. “They did it,” you sigh in relief. “Oh, thank God, they did it.”

Kíli raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Fíli pinches the bridge of his nose. “Let me get Thorin first. I would rather not explain this twice.”

 

“Again.” Thorin paces in front of the fire.

You rub your forehead. “I told you, that’s it,” you groan. “I fell in the water and woke up here.”

Kíli shakes his head. “It makes no sense.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Thorin flashes you a warning look.

“It was no ordinary stream,” Fíli points out. He sits with you on the couch, his hand resting on top of yours. Every once in a while, he gives it a reassuring squeeze. “It had some sort of foul magic. She wouldn’t wake for days.”

“If it’s magic that we’re dealing with,” you glance at Thorin warily before continuing, “it might be a good idea to talk with the elves.”

“Absolutely not,” Thorin snaps. His lip curls in disgust. “I refuse to invite them to interfere in our private matters.”

Kíli’s eyes brighten. “What about Gandalf, then? Where would we find him?”

They all look to you. You close your eyes, teasing and tugging at the cobwebs that cloud the part of your mind where your Middle Earth knowledge is stored. “He’s… there’s no guarantee we even could find him. Gandalf doesn’t have a home, exactly. He wanders. They don’t call him the Grey Pilgrim for nothing.”

“So we don’t know where Gandalf is,” Fíli starts slowly, “but we do know where the elves are.”

“And Gandalf wasn’t in Mirkwood with us,” you add. “There’s no guarantee he even knows about the enchanted stream—but Thranduil definitely would.”

Thorin crosses his arms. “Out of the question.”

“Did you not make peace with Mirkwood?”

“Peace does not mean friendship,” Thorin retorts. His voice, raised in frustration, echoes off of the polished stone walls. Down another hallway, you hear a door slam. Thorin groans at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“And just what in Mahal’s name is everyone shouting about at this hour of night?”

A new dwarf steps into the firelight. In the dim light, she almost looks like a copy of Thorin. But as she approaches, you can see her features are softer, her eyes rounder, her beard thinner. And there’s no mistaking the Durin glare that she levels at Thorin, her blue eyes just as piercing as they are tired.

You glance at Fíli with uncertainty. He squeezes your hand and leans close to murmur in your ear. “It’s just Amad. Mother,” he translates when you don’t seem to understand.

Dís. You nod quickly.

Thorin looks at you, then back to his sister, standing with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised expectantly. As they exchange words in their rough native tongue, Dís’s expression of irritation turns to one of soft, motherly concern. She comes closer to you and gently brushes away a few strands of unruly hair from your face. “You must be tired, natha.”

“Daughter,” Fíli whispers.

“A bit,” you reply quietly, finding yourself suddenly shy with the full attention of a mother focused on you.

“Poor dove,” Dís tuts. She straightens up and pats you on the shoulder. “Fíli, take your lass back to bed. We will speak in the morning.” Thorin looks like he means to protest, but Dís silences him with an icy glare. Planting a kiss on the top of your head, she pushes Kíli and Thorin back down their opposite hallways. Fíli pats your hand and follows her quickly, his words in Khuzdûl fading as he gets further away.

Finally alone, you let out a long sigh. For the first time, you get the chance to look yourself over, to see what has changed. Your hair is longer, brushing the small of your back. When you run your fingers through it, you find braids styled to match Fíli’s. A dwarven marriage custom, perhaps? There’s a thin, gold band on your finger, too, lined with tiny sapphires that sparkle in the firelight. A little smile tugs at the corner of your mouth; at least you kept some piece of your own marriage customs.

And while Fíli has been bare-chested this whole time, you’re wearing a dark green shirt, no doubt one that used to be his. It’s long enough on you to serve as a nightgown. A blush rises on your face when you realize the deep v-neck exposes the dip between your breasts—and has been exposing it to everyone else this whole time.

“Amrâlimê?” Fíli’s voice from the hallway is soft. He pokes his head into the sitting room. “Aren’t you going to come to bed?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, suddenly very interested in the fireplace. In anything that isn’t Fíli’s too-kind face. “Do you want me to?” you ask hesitantly.

It’s silent for a few seconds. Fíli sighs heavily and comes to kneel before you, taking your hands in his. “Y/N, you are my wife. Of course I want you to come to bed. It is our bed.” His eyes search yours, desperately looking for the light he knows should be there. “Do I not have your love?”

“I mean, sure,” you reply softly. Your voice is strained. “I just… I don’t understand how I have yours. You’re the crown prince, you’re perfect. And I’m just… me.”

“You are so much more than that,” Fíli murmurs. “You are everything to me.” He kisses your forehead and stands. Before you can say anything, you’re swept up in his arms. Startled, you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to avoid falling, but he carries your smaller frame with ease.

You frown, remembering your observation from earlier. “Shouldn’t I be taller than you?”

“Ah. Well.” Fili’s chuckle makes his chest vibrate against your cheek. “That’s all that we thought the stream did. Make you properly sized.”

“Properly sized?” you repeat in disbelief. “You call this properly sized?”

“You complained about it endlessly,” Fíli continues. A playful smile tugs at his lips. “Until you realized how well you fit in my arms.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re very funny.”

“I’m also handsome, charming, brave…”

“Shut up.” You smack his shoulder lightly, but hide a smile as you tuck your head beneath his chin. Maybe you can get used to this.

But as he kicks open the door to his—your—room, and you see the bed with its rumpled covers, you tense.

“Y/N?” Fíli’s breath tickles your neck.

“It’s… just a lot, all at once,” you mumble.

He squeezes you, then lowers you gently to the bed. “I understand,” he murmurs.

“You really don’t, though.” Pent-up frustration simmers within you. “When’s the last time you fell into a stream, woke up, and found out a year had passed and you’re married?”

“Are you upset that we’re married?” Fíli asks, his face falling.

You feel a pang of guilt for snapping at him. This can’t be any easier for him. Running your hand through your tangled hair, you shake your head. “It feels like one moment, I was a girl with a crush, and then I wake up, and suddenly I’m a married woman. I’ve missed out on everything.”

“It’s in there, somewhere,” he whispers, stroking your cheek. You flinch away, your body unsure of how to react to his touch. Hurt flickers across his face, but he pulls back. “Can I fix your braids?” he asks. There’s desperation in his eyes.

Recognizing his need to touch you in whatever way he can, you nod slowly, and turn. The gentle, rhythmic tugging as he combs and re-braids your hair is hypnotic, and you find your eyelids drooping.

“There,” Fíli says, turning you back to him. He smiles sadly. “Beautiful as ever.”

Your heart aches. Whether it aches for him, the dwarf searching for his loving wife in the uncertain girl before him, or yourself, longing to be that loving wife, you do not know.

After a moment of hesitation, you lean in and reward him with a quick kiss on the cheek. His beard is prickly against your lips. “I’m tired,” you whisper when you draw back.

The kiss brings a real smile to his face, however small it may be. Fíli pulls back the covers and you wriggle underneath them. You settle into a dip worn down into the mattress from hundreds of nights before. Fíli slides into place behind you, his chest against your back. You stiffen slightly, but force yourself to relax.

“Is this alright?” His deep, quiet voice vibrates through your body.

You nod. He can have a little cuddle, as a treat. As an apology.

He takes that as a signal to test the limits further. You can tell he’s holding his breath as he drapes his arm over your waist. “Is this alright?”

“It’s cozy,” you mumble sleepily, letting the warmth of his body overwhelm you.

Fíli lets out his breath, pulling you tightly against him and nuzzling his face into your hair.

As you drift off, you do your best to pretend you don’t notice his quiet tears.

You began to stir, finding your face pressed into something warm and firm. As you tried to pull away to look around, you were met with resistance. You made a disgruntled noise.

“Y/N?!” Suddenly, a hand yanked your head backwards. Wide eyes searched your face frantically. You just barely registered who held you before he pulled you back in a crushing embrace. “I thought we’d lost you.”

“Fíli?” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his coat. “Can’t breathe.”

He released you, finally letting you get your bearings. The two of you were alone in a small, stone cell. Torchlight flickered just outside the wrought iron bars, casting a dim, orange light into your cell.

A shadow crossed over the door. “Oh, so she is alive. Here, then.” An apple landed on the ground in front of you, followed by a waterskin. “That’s the most you get until tomorrow. Make it last.” The shadow retreated, footsteps echoing down a long hallway.

Pieces began to slot into place in your mind. You nodded slowly. Mirkwood, elves, imprisonment. “How long have we been in here?”

“A few days at most, given how often they’ve brought food and water. But it’s hard to tell.” Fíli seemed distracted, eyes scanning your body. “How do you feel?”

You frowned and patted yourself up and down. “A bit sore, but I think I’m fine.” You untangled yourself from Fíli and tried to stand on shaky legs, your knees instantly failing beneath you.

Immediately, he jumped up and grabbed your waist from behind to steady you. “Y/N?” His voice was soft. “Y/N, please do not be alarmed when you turn around.”

“What?” You twisted in his grasp and looked up into his concerned face.

Up. You had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. He was big. You tried to back away but the space was so narrow, you collided with the wall after just a single step. “You’re taller,” you stated, almost robotically. “But you’re a dwarf. You can’t be taller than me. I’m supposed to be the taller one. How did you get taller?”

“I did not get taller,” he corrected you. “You got smaller.”

You just stared at him blankly. Fíli sighed, gently taking hold of your arm and easing you back to the ground. He took the apple from the floor and placed it in your hand. “Eat,” he ordered quietly. “You haven’t had any food in days. It was hard enough to get water into you.”

Instead, you rolled it between your palms absentmindedly. “How long was I out?”

“Just over a week. We were trying to cross a stream, and you fell in.”

“Instead of Bombur,” you interjected.

Fíli raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. Glóin managed to snag you,” he continues, “and when he pulled you out, you were… well, smaller. But you wouldn’t wake up. You even slept through the spiders. I was so afraid that you were gone before I could tell you–” he broke off, his voice thick. He tore his eyes away from yours, a blush rising on his face.

“What?” You reached out and took hold of his chin, turning his face back to you. Yet his eyes still avoided you. You crawled closer, kneeling between his outstretched legs. Your traitorous heart pounded hopefully against your ribs. “Tell me what, Fee?”

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s foolish. I shouldn’t… you wouldn’t…” Finally, he looked back up at you. “I love you?” He phrased it as a question, his blue eyes filled with hesitation. It was strangely endearing, seeing the normally confident prince so bashful. Fíli lifted a cautious hand to your cheek, fingers just barely brushing your skin.

Surprise temporarily robbed you of your voice. Mistaking your silence for rejection, Fíli quickly pulled his hand away. Shame and hurt flashed across his face. “Forgive me,” he blurted out, ducking his head. “I should not burden you with feelings you can never return.” He pulled his legs back in and moved further into the shadowy recesses of the cell.

But you crawled after him, refusing to let him go that easily. “Fíli, why didn’t you say anything?” When he remained silent, you wound your fingers up in one of his braids and tugged, forcing him to turn his head towards you. “Why are you so sure that I can’t feel the same?”

A cautious spark of hope flared to life in his eyes. “Because you’re perfect, you’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You deserve so much more than I can give.”

You smiled, eyes tracing his face. The gold locks that framed it, the sky blue eyes, the flushed cheeks. And those soft, pink lips, parted ever so slightly as he awaited your next words.

But words were the furthest thing from your mind. Refusing to hold back any longer, you grabbed Fíli by the collar, lunging forward to claim his mouth.

His eyes widened, then fluttered shut as his hands grabbed at your waist. Fíli pulled you back into his lap and wrapped his arms around you, reaching up to comb through your tangled hair with his fingers.

A rock clanged against the bars of your cell. “Get a room!” came Kíli’s voice, echoing down the hall.

You broke away with a laugh. “This is a room!”

Kíli’s only response was a disgusted groan as Fíli grabbed at your face for more.

[wangxianficrecs]

violent delights by justdoityoufucker

violent delights

by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account)

T, 4k, Wangxian

Summary: Wen Qing is fairly confident in her own skills. She knows the theory—wrote the theory—and has performed many surgeries before, has worked with broken cores and devoted her life to the study of it. But there’s something different about this. - Or, the one where the Golden Core transfer goes...sideways. Kay's comments: This story explores an idea that I find super interesting, what if the Golden Core Transfer just didn't work? The odds weren't in their favour after all and here it just doesn't work, Wei Wuxian's core says nope and returns to Wei Wuxian, no matter what Wen Qing attempts. It changes things and for the better, at least for Wei Wuxian and the Wens and I love that and love their relationship especially. You know I'm so weak for Wei-Wen found family vibes. Ah, and now I'm sad again that justdoityoufucker left the fandom. I adore their fics so much. Excerpt: Except, a half shichen later, it disappears. It disappears. The core disappears out of Jiang Wanyin’s body. It’s an instantaneous happening—one second it’s there, channeling the remnants of Jiang Wanyin’s spiritual energy along with Wei Wuxian’s, and then there’s an abrupt, gaping emptiness that is familiar only because it’s how his dantian felt before the transfer. “J-jie?” a-Ning asks at the same moment that Wei Wuxian makes a rough noise of abject confusion, an emotion that is mirrored on her didi’s face. “What’s h-happening?” She forces some of her spiritual energy to remain in Jiang Wanyin’s meridians, cycling to ensure nothing goes wrong, and rushes over to Wei Wuxian, who has suddenly regained some color in his face. It’s hard to focus on splitting her energy, cycling it in two other bodies, but immediately she can tell what’s wrong. Wei Wuxian’s golden core is back in Wei Wuxian, like she never took it out. His meridians are perfectly reconnected, spiritual energy cycling as if it had never been stripped out.

pov wen qing, pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, no golden core transfer, jiang cheng has no golden core, not jiang cheng friendly, pre-sunshot campaign, sunshot campaign, post-sunshot campaign, wei wuxian lives, wen remnants live, families of choice, hurt/comfort, rogue cultivator wei wuxian, angst with a happy ending, everybody lives, wei wuxian leaves the yunmeng jiang sect

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[juanabaloo]

BTVS boop head canons:

Angel is on tumblr but types with one finger. he finally got the hang of reblogs last month. he is scared of the boop button and does not try. he makes a mental note to ask Cordelia to explain it to him.

Spike boops Buffy, then realizes how that looks. he begins to boop all the Scoobies, Willow first. he begrudgingly also boops Xander.

Buffy has been busy so is late with the boops. she's overwhelmed by all the boops she has and closes her tumblr tab half way thru booping people. her first boop is Willow, then Xander. she boops Faith back but not Spike. [sorry Spuffy fans, i'm a Fuffy truther] sadly she also boops Parker.

Willow boops everyone, Tara first. Tara ofc boops back. so does Oz.

Tara only boops the Scoobies and her witch friends. while she doesn't boop freely, to her boops are more about friendship than anything else.

Xander boops Spike first, then realizes how that looks. he rapidly boops everyone else, including Giles. (Giles ignores it, but is shaken up that Xander knows about his secret tumblr account "rugged_Sunnydale_librarian.") Anya is glad Xander booped her, she was wondering why it took so long.

(All the Scoobies know about Giles's "secret" tumblr account, since he keeps forgetting to log out of it on the Magic Box research computer.)

Anya gives very limited boops. she's annoyed that tumblr didn't monetize it somehow, since that's what she would do. "it's such an obvious opportunity!"

Cordelia boops a few select old classmates from Sunnydale, but not Buffy. she happily boops Angel, Fred, Gunn, Lorne, and Wesley, in that order. [idk i haven't seen all of ATS]

Lorne boops everyone and won't shut up about booping.

Lilah and Wesley only boop each other.

Lindsey boops Angel and Lilah, but neither boop him back.

Gunn shyly boops Fred and she instantly boops back.

Faith boops Buffy. when Buffy doesn't boop back immediately she boops another 10 times, thinking it didn't go through. when she realizes that all 11 boops went through, she panics and drafts a "sorry yo my tumblr got hacked" post just in case. when Buffy boops her back (once) she grins like a cheese ball for 2 days straight. as an afterthought she also boops the Scoobies.

Giles has a secret tumblr. he scoffs at all the booping, until Jenny boops him. he grins and sends her a long text in response thanking her (like text msg on his phone), signing it with his name like he does with every text.

(@scooby-group-texts your posts inspired me)

[lolathestoryteller]

kisses and quarrels (April 5th prompt; Laugh) @jilymicrofics

I’m back with another everybody lives au drabble (which kinda ended up being a bit longer than intended); Jily, little Harry & uncle Padfoot! read below :)

„We‘re heading out!“ Lily calls out from the entrance hall.

There’s cluttering coming from the kitchen, before James and Sirius step out into the hallway, both their faces smudged with flour.

“Have fun— wow, Harry! Mate you…look like a puffskein.” Sirius cackles, before looking at Lily. “How many layers���s he wearing?”

“It’s cold out, alright? I’d like for my son not to turn into an ice cube.”

“Yeah,” Sirius chuckles. “He definitely won’t freeze…might float away though, won’t you? Just like a ballon!”

Harry, who’s been busy walking up to his Dad, giggles happily at his godfather’s funny face.

“Hilarious.” Lily says dryly.

Sirius‘ smile turns into a smirk at once, making her instantly regret her choice of words. “It’s Sirius, actually.” he states smugly, before he and James dissolve into laughter.

Lily tries her very best not to smile as she strides over to collect Harry from James’s arms. “Sometimes I really think I should question my choices,” she says teasingly, glancing up at James. “Marrying such a jester.”

“Oi!” James complains, before leaning closer to her face. “You love this jester.” he smiles, and Lily, despite her efforts, blushes. “Yeah…” she replies softly. “I’m afraid I do.”

She leans closer, until her lips brush his, closing her eyes as they share a gentle kiss.

Sirius’ groan makes them part after only a moment though, and both of them chuckle as they notice his overly dramatic frown.

“Ugh,” he whines. “Please, my eyes!“

“Sod off, Padfoot.” James laughs, bumping his friends’ shoulder, before kissing Lily again — loudly this time, and with way too much of a grin on his face.

Lily rolls her eyes, but all too gladly allows for Sirius to dramatically gag as she kisses him back — that is until they’re, once again, interrupted, this time by a small pair of hands, pushing their faces apart.

“No.“ Harry protests, with an expression that so perfectly and very unfortunately mimics that of his godfather. “Gwoss.”

Sirius barks a laugh, one that only increases as he spots James‘ dumbfounded expression.

“Did our two year old just say we’re gross?”

“Sorry mate, you’re officially embarrassing your kid. The pleasures of parenthood, right?” Sirius jokes, slapping James on the back.

Lily sighs, hiding her amusement behind a raised eyebrow. “He’s not embarrassed,” she says as she adjusts a squirmy Harry on her hip. “Right Harry? You aren’t embarrassed of us?” she asks sweetly, nuzzling his cheek. “Maybe a little of Dada…”

“Lily!” James cries dramatically. “You’re supposed to be on my side here!”

“Of course I am, dear,“ she replies with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just fun to tease you.”

“Yeah, yeah…” James rolls his eyes, though with a warm smile on his lips. “Go on now, we’ll have dinner ready when you come back, I hope.”

Lily is doubtful they would, at least not without magical help and some healing charms. “Just promise me you won’t blow up our kitchen again.” she replies pointedly.

“I will make no such promises.” Sirius replies cheekily.

“We’ll manage,” James says genuinely. “Promise.“

Lily smiles, before turning her attention back to the toddler currently wiggling about in her arms. “Yes, yes, I know,” she says as she bends down to let Harry walk by himself. “You wanna go now, don’t you?”

She waves at the boys once more before taking Harry’s little hand into hers. „Harry, say bye bye to Daddy and Sirius.“

Harry nods excitedly, raising a little hand to wave at the men. „Bye bye!“

„Have fun with Mummy, Snitch!“ James waves back.

„And don’t float away!“ comes Sirius‘ reply, earning another giggle from the toddler.

Lily can only roll her eyes as she guides Harry outside. „Your uncle Padfoot is a bit silly sometimes, hm?“

„Funny!“ Harry replies happily, as if trying to correct her.

Oh dear, Lily thinks, glancing at her son with a soft smile on her lips, he’s the son of a Marauder alright.

[steviesbicrisis]

How do I explain to irl friends and family that my happy place is Family video in the late 80s, when Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley are trying to survive their shift as Nancy Wheeler and Eddie Munson joined them, respectively, keep them company and annoy the shit out of them, and their life is easy, no one is dead, how do I explain all of this without sounding like a crazy person?

[anstarwar]

@waxerboilmonth week 4! Prompts were “forehead kisses” and “Palpatine dies, everybody lives.” Here’s a little bit of both!

+++

A little blurb for the picture:

They’d been getting ready to deploy, the weight of the galaxy on their shoulders, the anticipation of “maybe this is it, we’ll get Grievous this time” coiled tight in the bellies of every 212th trooper.

They loaded the venator, they packed their things - few though they may be - and they got ready for the jump to Utapau.

And then suddenly it was over. They didn’t know what had happened. They weren’t jumping to Utapau, they weren’t even loaded onto the venator anymore.

Something had happened.

The rumor was another brother had done it. A commander. Not just any commander but the Coruscant Guard’s own Marshal Commander - Fox.

Boil found he almost couldn’t breathe from the wave of emotions that flowed through while he watched the holonet news feed. Hands on his hips -bucket having been abandoned somewhere between the ship, the barracks, and where he stood now in City Plaza - he couldn’t stop reading the headline:

Palpatine Dead - shot by guard in senate basement

His ears perked and he spun around, arms open and ready for the ball of sunshine that was barreling his way.

“Did you see? Is it real? It’s real isn’t it?! It’s over? It’s really over?!” Waxer yelled as he jumped into Boil’s arms.

Armor be damned, Waxer could’ve weighed 1000 pounds and Boil wouldn’t have felt the difference. He’d never felt so light and happy in his entire life as Waxer showered his forehead with sloppy wet kisses.

“Yeah,” Boil laughed, squeezing Waxer as tight as their armor would allow as ticker-tape and confetti rained down around them, “I think it’s really over.”

[decimalsheep]

I finally watched Bride of Halloween and I love Amuro content (even tho he was stuck in a box for most of the movie LOL) but it got me thinking about like. how so many of his friends died and i’m a sucker for fix-its so:

Time Travel!DCMK where Conan is thrown ten years into the past, right back to the day he met Akai at the beach. He’s bewildered and disbelieving but, quote, “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” so he accepts his new reality and makes a plan accordingly.

At the beach he makes sure to cling stubbornly to Akai, refusing to let go and when they eventually leave the beach, Conan has a new number registered in his phone and a new pen pal buddy. Understanding that Conan is not as he appears, Akai agrees to send updates on his life occasionally (at first out of amusement and pics of whatever food he’s eating, later on asking Conan for advice on specific cases). 

At 9 years old, Conan begs his dad for tickets to Kuroba Toichi’s magic show in Tokyo. Yusaku, who is about 86% confident that his son is a time-traveler, agrees easily and may or may not have called the police for back up just in case. Because Conan doesn’t watch magic shows, time-traveler or not (if you don’t count Kid’s heists) and the poorly hidden desperation when he asked was more than enough of a hint that something was going to go down. Surprise surprise, the venue burns down, but this time Kuroba Toichi lives with some minor injuries. (The incident leaves his arm numb, and he feels that his days as Kaitou KID is running short - he decides to pass on the mantle to Kaito when he’s old enough)

At 10 years old, Conan bumps into Hagiwara Kenji at the park. It’s an incident he almost forgets about until he’s staring at the rest of the police academy students. It’s July, and Hagiwara dies in November. Conan doesn’t know the specifics, but when November rolls around, Hagiwara gains a watchful shadow. It’s when the serial bomber case appears on the news that he knows it’s time. 

There are officers at the entrance of the hotel stopping guests from entering, but Conan has never let that stop him before, so he runs, and runs and runs to the floor that Hagiwara is on. The timer is stopped, but Conan knows that it will explode regardless. He throws himself into the room, startling the occupants, and starts shouting.

“The bomb is going to explode!” he shouts and claws at the arm that tries to stop him from getting closer. “The bomber- he- it’s going to start again, Matsuda-san says it’s going to explode!” Hagiwara looks up at the commotion, radio in his hand. “What’s going on?” Matsuda snaps.

“It’s going to explode, the timer isn’t stopped!” The kid shouts, desperate and pleading. “You’re going to die!”

The kid looks straight at him when he says that. Unbidden, dread settles in his stomach, every single hair on end and the unshakable feeling that what the kid is saying is-

“Everybody out!” Hagiwara shouts - commands. “Down the hall, now!”

There’s a rush to get out the door and the kid falls to the ground in the process. He scoops him up and together they exit the hotel room. It’s as he’s turning into the hall that he hears the tell-tale sign of the timer turning back on, ticking down to their demise. The radio is left lying on the ground, Matsuda’s voice coming out loud and panicked.

The bomb explodes.

The force of the explosion sends him flying, curling his body around the kid so as to cushion him from the impact. There’s a ringing in his ears and his back hurts like a bitch, but with more distance from the bomb and several walls to take the brunt of the damage, everybody lives.

Matsuda definitely isn’t crying when he sees him coming alive out of the hotel. Life-threatening situation aside, he is so making fun of him for it in the future. Temporarily forgotten in the moment, a small boy slips away from the crowd.

A few days after his 11th birthday, Conan feels someone tailing him. He acts as if he doesn’t notice, fiddling with his phone. But as the crossing light starts flashing for an oncoming train, he bolts and takes off across the street. His tail startles and the chase begins. Using his smaller stature he zigzags through the alleys and streets, throwing himself into crowds in an effort to shake off whoever is following him. But they’re good, and persistent. He turns into an alley that he knows has a gap wide enough to fit only him from his time in the future/past. But he comes to a stop when he sees the construction going on and curses under his breath. 

A hand lands on his shoulder and he jolts, reaching for his tranquilizer watch that he got Agasa to remake, only to freeze when he sees who’s behind him.

“Oh, it’s just you Amuro-san,” he sighs, heart beating wildly but now calming down knowing he’s not in danger.

“Amuro-san?” Furuya Rei repeats, bemused, and shit he’s not Amuro yet.

He stutters out some random excuse about how he mistook him for someone and Amu-Furuya seems to let it go. But from that day on, he sees Furuya lurking in his peripherals. He never gets close, hovering from afar, but he’s there nonetheless. It’s not until Conan gets involved with a kidnapping incident does Furuya appear, kicking down the door and a wild look on his face. The rope leaves a burn on his wrists but he’s uninjured otherwise, still, Furuya treats him like he’ll break at a moments notice, carrying him with surprising softness. 

From that moment on, Furuya gets close. He’ll say hi if they run into each other (on the days it’s a coincidence) or help him out with whatever errand he’s on (if it’s not). Conan get’s the feeling that Furuya isn’t sure how to treat him. 

He asks him about it one day, when Hagiwara spots him across the street and drags him into a family restaurant, proclaiming that he’s “caught the kid.” At the table are seated several familiar faces, Furuya included.It’s apparently lunch to congratulate Furuya and Hiromitsu on their new promotion. Everybody at the table orders for him, saying something about how he saved Hagiwara’s life. Conan insists that he has no idea what they’re talking about, but they don’t seem to care, already three beers in on a Saturday afternoon. 

It leaves him and Furuya sitting together, who appears to be the chaperone for the day. 

“That day,” he starts, keeping his eyes on his glass of orange juice even as he feels Furuya’s gaze slide to him. “Why did you...”

Furuya stares at him, expression carefully controlled. “You’re... familiar,” he says slowly, looking away as Conan freezes at his words. “Somehow, I have the feeling that if it weren’t for you... that because you’re here, everything will be different.”

His eyes flash, grief and anguish and rage flickering before fading into a calm. “Everything will be okay,” he whispers and Conan isn’t sure if he was meant to hear that.

He’s 12 when he meets up with Sera to watch the new Gojira movie, having become close friends with her since the day at the beach, forming a tight knit group of four along with Ran and Sonoko. The other two aren’t there that day, saying they’d rather go to the new cafe than watch a monster movie, so it’s just the two of them at the theaters.

At the train station where they’re about to head back home, he excuses himself to go to the restroom. On his way back out onto the platform, he bumps into someone.

“Shuu-nii?” he blurts (Sera had convinced him to call him that, and Akai hadn’t protested) and Akai blinks in surprise at seeing him. 

“Oh, are you here with Sera?” He asks, then glances at the ticket in his hand. “Then I’m assuming Sera actually does have money for a train ticket?”

They walk together back to the platform and he’s treated to yet another surprise when he sees Sera standing with Hiromitsu. Wait, he remembers Sera mentioning this-

“Hiro-san?” He asks innocently, plan forming in his head. He scoots closer to Akai so that they’re shoulder to shoulder, silently willing him to play along. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?”

Hiromitsu looks up, surprised at first then apprehensive once he sees Akai next to him. At this point in time, Furuya, Hiromitsu, and Akai are all unaware of each other’s undercover status. In Hiromitsu’s view, Conan is currently standing next to a criminal. And in Akai’s view, Sera as well.

“I’m currently on a job,” Hiromitsu says pointedly, urging Conan to take the hint and not drop any important information, like the fact that he’s actually an undercover police officer. He knows Conan is smart, but today Conan is willfully obtuse.

“Where’s-” Furuya, he was going to ask, but suddenly he’s grabbed by the arm and dragged away from Akai. When he looks up, he sees a flash of blond hair under a baseball cap.

“It’s dangerous to be out so late at night,” Furuya says, smile tight and forced, even as his grip shifts into something more protective, his body standing in front of his as if to shield him from Akai’s view. He brightens up, bringing out his inner Ran.

“Rei-san!” He exclaims and beams up at him excitedly, doing his best to appear as innocent and friendly as he can. Sera and Akai are staring at him like he’s insane. Furuya and Hiro are staring at him the same way too. “It’s okay, I was with Shuu-nii.” 

“Shuu?” Furuya questions, eyebrow raised as Akai raises a hand to stop him from saying anything more.

“Yeah, Akai Shuichi! He’s like an older brother to me.”

“Oh? I could have sworn your name was Moroboshi.” 

“Surely you understand the importance of aliases. Right, Rei?”

“So how’s work going with the FBI, Shuu-nii?”

“Ignore him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about-”

“What the fuck do you mean FBI-”

“And you too! Matsuda and Date and Hagiwara-san were complaining about how ever since you two got into PSB you were too busy to hang out-”

“What the fuck do you mean PSB-”

[agrippaspoleto]

Just this once everybody lives, mostly my man Sean Finnerty. Getting all the cuddles from his LT. Inspired by the wonderful stories by @professorrajansavarimuthu, @heckblade and @gunpowderraven. This is for you.

[youchangedmedestiel]

Chapters: 3/3

Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Words: 5,187

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack Kline

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Jack Kline is Not God, Saileen Mentioned, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Established Relationship, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Neck Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Attempt at Humor, Deansturbation, Masturbation, Teasing, they are so gone for each other, They try to resist it though, because of that silly game they are playing, Smut, Two Endings, Don't be afraid to tell which one you prefer

Summary:

Dean and Cas waited 12 years to finally be together. So, they think they can resist each other, but do they? (Please, read the notes at the beginning for better understanding)

Notes: 

I got this idea from this pic (coming from this post on x): 

[briqhtskye]

i could read an entire 300 page novel about shinjiro aragaki and would love every second of it

[jan-holdres]

[rynneer]

Misty Memories Cold

When you wake in Fíli’s bed with no recollection of anything after a disaster in Mirkwood, he’s ready to risk anything, even his uncle’s wrath, to bring back what you had together.

“I’m not sure I like this idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest against the hallway’s chill. The light from mid-morning sunbeams slowly fades to the flickering orange light of torches as you get closer to the core of the mountain.

“The worst he can do is say no,” Tauriel replies coolly. For someone so out of place in the realm of dwarves, she walks with extraordinary confidence, towering over everyone—especially you.

Fíli and Kíli exchange skeptical looks, but remain silent.

You, however, do not. “You don’t know Thorin.”

“That is true,” she hums, “but I know kings.” Tauriel hardly pauses as you approach the large, double doors leading to the war room.

Kíli shoots out an arm to block her from entering. “Us first,” he insists. “He won’t exactly be thrilled to see you.”

The hinges creak in protest as he swings open the heavy door, interrupting Thorin mid-sentence. The king sits at the head of a long table, flanked by two empty seats, normally occupied by his heirs. The rest of the chairs are filled by Balin, Dwalin, and a handful of elves. The guests’ eyes narrow curiously, but when you step into the room, they duck their heads to whisper amongst themselves. Fíli puts an arm around your waist, standing as tall as he can and glowering at them.

“Kíli, you are late,” Thorin scolds. “Fíli, Y/N, I believe I made it clear that you have… other duties today.” He pointedly ignores Tauriel.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Your Highness,” Tauriel says smoothly, her voice all business. “May we speak in private? It is an urgent matter.”

Thorin continues to pretend she’s not there, clearing his throat and gesturing for Kíli to sit. “As I was saying–”

But she will not be ignored. “It is of particular importance to your princess,” she presses.

All heads in the room turn to you. Fíli winces and tightens his arm around you. Even Thorin appears momentarily stunned by her interruption, but he quickly regains his composure and fixes the elf with a glare.

“You are excused,” he hisses. “We–”

“Your Highness–” she tries to interject again.

“Do not interrupt me!” the king snaps. He rises from his seat, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You are an escort, nothing more. You are not welcome at the negotiating table.”

“Thorin, please,” you say softly. You press against Fíli, making yourself as small and vulnerable-looking as possible. The act works—Thorin softens just the tiniest bit.

His nostrils flare as he breathes heavily, glancing back at the elvish delegates. They eye the king with suspicion. “Everyone out,” he says at last. His teeth are clenched so hard you’re surprised they don’t crumble.

“There is tea waiting in the great hall,” Balin offers, a bit more diplomatically. He ushers the delegation from the room and gives you a tiny nod as he passes.

“Sit,” Thorin growls.

You drop into a chair instantly at his command, already wary of his anger. Fíli takes his seat and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. But you grip it tightly, not letting him pull away. He resists for a second, then lets his hand relax in yours and brushes his thumb over the back of it.

“What do you want?”

You jump slightly when Thorin addresses you.

“We have a proposal–”

“I did not ask you,” Thorin cuts Tauriel off brusquely, still looking at you.

It’s quiet for a moment as you open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say. “Tauriel has a plan,” you finally offer.

“Hear her out, please,” Kíli jumps in. His leg bounces beneath the table, making ripples on the surfaces of abandoned glasses of wine. “She thinks she knows how to cure Y/N.”

His phrasing makes you wince, and Fíli squeezes your hand again.

“Nonsense,” Thorin scoffs. “There’s nothing wrong with her. Nothing that you should know about,” he adds when Tauriel arches an eyebrow. “Unless someone has been speaking of things they should not.”

Everyone turns to Kíli, who suddenly looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. He gives you a helpless shrug, hands raised in surrender.

“Thorin, please,” Fíli urges quietly. “This is Y/N that we are talking about. Our Y/N.”

A vein throbs in Thorin’s temple, but he looks at Tauriel for the first time since she entered. “Get on with it, then.”

She dips her head. “Whatever ails her is not a physical problem, it’s magic borne of Mirkwood. That’s something dwarves simply cannot address.” Thorin bristles, but she raises a hand before he can speak. “I’ve no doubt that you have skilled healers, but she needs more than herbs and rest. Let her return to Mirkwood with me, and we will do everything we can to restore her memory.”

Hope rises in your chest as Thorin studies the elf maiden. “Why are you offering this? What do you stand to gain from helping?” His tone is laced with suspicion, but less anger than before.

“I’ve a certain… admiration for the for kingdom of Erebor after all it has endured.” Her eyes flicker briefly to Kíli, who absentmindedly fiddles with his belt. “I would be glad to see its princess well once again.”

“Can you swear that your efforts will be successful? That she will return whole and unharmed with her memories intact?”

But that hope dies as Tauriel hesitates. “I cannot,” she admits at last.

“No.” Thorin rises from the table, taking his mantle from the back of his chair and heading for the door.

“No?!” you repeat incredulously. You’re on your feet before you even know it, hands curled into fists at your side. Fíli moves to grab your wrist, but you dodge his hand. “This is our best chance to–”

“No!” He turns on his heel to face you again. There’s a shadow across his face, brows knitted in a furious glare. “It is too much to risk without a guarantee of success. That is final.”

“Fine!” you snap, crossing your arms. Your headache pulses even harder behind your eyes. “I’ll go anyway!”

“Careful, Y/N…” Kíli whispers. He’s risen as well, knuckles white as they grip the back of his chair.

“Then you can stay there,” Thorin thunders. His stormy eyes move to his nephews. “And if either of you set foot outside our lands, you can keep going all the way back to Ered Luin. Now, get out.”

“Uncle–”

“Out, Fíli! All of you!”

You snort, glaring at Thorin and pulling Fíli up from the table by his wrist. “Come on,” you grumble. “I’m not going to keep arguing with a stone wall.” You storm from the room, dragging Fíli with you and doing your best to slam the oversized door—right in poor Kíli’s face. He pushes it open behind you, nearly stumbling as Tauriel breezes past him.

“Pack your things for a journey,” she says briskly, her long strides quickly putting distance between you and the angry king. “All of you. We leave at midnight.”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Fíli hisses. “You heard Thorin—he’ll have our heads!”

“If he even lets us back in,” Kíli mutters.

“Thorin can… what is that phrase you use, Y/N?”

“‘Get fucked?’” you offer.

“Yes, that.”

“This is a bad idea,” Fíli reminds the group for the hundredth time. But even as he voices his concerns, he still busies himself with tacking up the ponies and arranging the bags. “If Thorin or Amad catch us, we’re as good as dead.”

“With how loud you’re talking, they can probably hear you from their chambers.” You shift from one foot to the other, shivering. August in the mountains means pleasantly warm days, but the northern cold refuses to be forgotten, bringing frigid nights. Without missing a beat, Fíli sheds his coat and drapes it over your shoulders. You give him a quick smile.

A warm, fuzzy snout nudges your shoulder. You turn to find a black and white pony stretching its neck over the door of its stall, sniffing your pack hopefully. It nickers softly when you lift your hand to stroke its nose.

“That one’s yours,” Kíli says, leaning against the stable’s door. Tauriel and his pony already wait outside, the animal pawing impatiently at the ground. “You named him Domino, and refused to tell us what that means.”

“Domino?” You smile as you fit the bridle on him. “Perfect.” He follows you outside obediently, still nudging your bag in hopes of finding treats. Fíli comes to your rescue once again with a handful of sugar cubes swiped from the kitchen. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Trying to steal my pony’s heart?”

“Aye.” Fíli winks and swings himself up onto his mount. “And I’m coming for yours next.” But his face turns serious as he glances up at the moon, full over your heads. Wisps of clouds tickle its edges, threatening to block out its light. “We should go. If we make good pace, it shouldn’t be more than a few weeks’ travel.”

You sigh and climb up on your own pony. Next to Tauriel’s horse, you’re reminded once again how small you are. Inside the mountain, it’s easier to ignore. Everything is dwarf-sized. You-sized. But outside, the world does not cater to your diminished stature.

“A few weeks’ travel to where?” A voice from behind startles you from your thoughts. Fíli freezes next to you.

You turn around slowly, feeling like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Dís folds her arms and taps her foot as she waits for an answer. There’s something tucked under her arm, but you can’t quite make it out.

“Nowhere,” Kíli responds quickly. “Nowhere at all.” He gives his mother the most innocent look he can muster, but it’s pointless. Every pony is laden with at least one travel pack.

Fíli purses his lips tightly. “We’re going to get help for Y/N,” he admits through gritted teeth. He raises his chin defiantly, as if expecting resistance. “Thorin won’t listen. We’re taking matters into our own hands.”

Dís shakes her head in disappointment. Your heart sinks as she steps forward and tugs Fíli’s coat down from your shoulders. The journey, over before it even began.

“Not dressed like that, you’re not.” She returns the coat to Fíli and unfolds the bundle under her arm. It unfurls into a thick, forest green cloak. “I was saving this for an anniversary gift, but you’ll be needing it if you don’t want to freeze at night,” she explains as she hands it to you. She squeezes your hand. “Come back safe. I’ll stall Thorin as best I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, wrapping the cloak around you.

“Fíli is right, we must be off,” Tauriel snaps her reins and sets off down the packed earth road. The boys fall in behind her.

“And Kíli?” Dís calls after them.

He halts his pony with a tug of the reins and turns in his saddle with a sigh. “Yes, Amad?”

“Hurry up and propose to the elf.” She slaps the haunches of your pony, sending you lurching forward into the night.

Fíli did not like it.

He couldn’t tell if it was day or night. He couldn’t see the path ahead—if there even was one. He couldn’t hear whatever Thorin was saying.

But mostly, he didn’t like how you hung limply in his arms, head lolling with each step he took. He hefted you closer to his chest, shifting you to better support your head in the crook of his arm. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.” There was no response from the woman in his arms. It was almost upsetting, how light you felt. How small you were. You were dwarf-sized, yes, but the proportions were all wrong.

Fíli glanced up to make sure he was still with the Company. Since they’d left the main path, it was becoming harder to keep up. He’d nearly lost them a few… minutes ago? Hours? Days?

After Fíli had caught up—or let them catch up to him, he couldn’t tell—Kíli started to hold onto Fíli’s coat to stay together, like he’d once done as a child. Slowly, they fell to the back of the group.

“Let me carry her for a bit.” Kíli slipped an arm underneath you.

As the younger prince made to take you from Fíli, his blood ran hot. He only held you tighter, pulling away from Kíli. “No,” he growled. “I’m carrying her.”

“Fee, you’ll tire.”

“I won’t!” he snapped. “I have to be there when she wakes up. It has to be me! I…” His sudden burst of ferocity faded away as he looked down at you, leaving behind a hollow feeling in his chest.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think you were dead. Only the slow rise and fall of your chest proved you still lived. In rare moments, your face would twitch, ever so slightly. Holding you like this, your body as limp as a ragdoll, made his stomach feel as if it was filled with stones.

Cold talons of dread gripped his heart. “She will wake up,” Fíli whispered, his soft voice trembling. He looked back up at Kíli for reassurance. “She will. She has to. And I need to be there, it has to be me. I have to tell her… She needs to know…” A lump in his throat kept Fíli from continuing.

Kíli furrowed his brow. He’d never seen his brother look this distressed. As his eyes went back and forth from your face to Fíli’s, it dawned on him. His eyes grew wide. “You’re… Fíli… You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you?”

Fíli’s mouth moved silently, as if the words were stuck in his throat. But he didn’t need to answer. His face told Kíli everything he needed to know. The desperation. How his expression softened when he gazed at you. The way he gently cradled you.

“Is she your…?” Kíli didn’t need to finish; the word hung heavily in the air between the brothers. His One.

Amad had explained once how it felt to find her One in their father. She had courted a few other dwarrows, but something always gnawed at the back of her mind. But meeting him, she spoke of a warmth that filled her, how everything just felt right. Fíli had never given it much thought. None of the dams in Ered Luin particularly caught his eye. And besides, Thorin never took a wife. Sometimes a dwarf just doesn’t find their One, or care much about finding them.

But you… Fíli hadn’t felt the instant warmth and security his mother had described when he met you. It crept in slowly as you ate together, rode together, fought together. When you sent him little smiles from across the fire at dinner. When you listened intently as he showed you his blades. When you gripped his arm tightly at the first sign of danger. There was no going back for Fíli, and even though your new size worried him, the way you fit in his arms felt right. It shouldn’t feel right, he knew that. He had never heard of a dwarf finding their One in someone of an entirely different race. And of course, you were even stranger, coming from another world.

“Fee?” Kíli’s voice, unusually gentle, pulled Fíli from his thoughts.

With great effort, Fíli tore his gaze from you and looked his brother in the eye. “I don’t know what else this feeling could be,” he answered simply.

Both princes fell silent as they watched your sleeping face. “This will not be easy,” Kíli said at last.

“I know.”

[wangxianficrecs]

When Words Just Won't Do by SailorBryant

When Words Just Won't Do

by SailorBryant (@sailorbryant)

M, WIP, 10k, Wangxian

Summary: Wen Qing swallows her pride and writes a letter to Hanguang-jun asking him to escort Wei Wuxian to Jin Rulan’s one-month celebration. It changes everything. --- "Still, as you must intimately know, asking Wei Wuxian to take the cautious path is as useful as asking a mountain to kindly move out of your way. However, I cannot acknowledge my own fears while not pursuing every option available to assuage them. If possible, I would ask that Hanguang-Jun would consider escorting Master Wei to the celebration himself. He is determined to make the trip on foot, - Lan Wangji stops for a moment, reading back over the line as he makes sure he has not misread the characters. A trip from Yiling to Koi Tower will take days on foot, instead of hours. He knows Wei Ying has been casual with his sword, to his own detriment, but to choose to walk instead of fly when no one from the other clans would even know - It defies logic. Kay's comments: Don't we all love a good what-if story? What if Lan Wangji accompanied Wei Wuxian to Jin Ling's full moon celebration instead of Wen Ning? Would have things gone better? Something this story explores! Though at first it's about Lan Wangji being sneaky (which I loved) as he receives a letter from Wen Qing, which makes his family suspicious and then we get some good slice-of-life content of the Wens and Wei Wuxian in the Burial Mounds on top! Truly the cherry on top! I really enjoy Lan Wangji's POV in this story and how it portrays his frustration towards himself. He wants to be better, he wants to express himself so that Wei Wuxian understands him, but he's struggling, especially after past misunderstandings... Excerpt: By the end of the dinner, his uncle’s shoulders seemed to have relaxed, and his eyes were less sharp, assured that nothing was off in Lan Wangji’s behavior. If his brother’s knowing eyes see something different than his uncle’s, he keeps his thoughts to himself. After a quick reminder of their duties in the morning of preparing the senior disciples for the trip to Koi Tower, Lan Qiren dismisses them both with a nod. The two brothers trail out. “Wangji,” comes the hesitant voice of his brother when they reach the path that splits to lead to their respective residences. Lan Wangji turns to face him, giving him his full attention. His brother searches his eyes, his face, his posture. He opens his mouth multiple times to speak, but hesitancy crawls across him in grasping waves and he closes it every time. Lan Wangji knows his brother does not know the exact contents of the letter; it has stayed on his person throughout the day. But he knows that his brother knows him. And his brother is smart; he knows the situation and can make his own inferences, his own assumptions.

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, ambush at qiongqi path, fix-it, everybody lives, wen remnants live, wen remnants deserve better, canon - mo dao zu shi & the untamed combination

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[bibannana]

Echo *hyping himself up*: I'm single and anxious to mingle.

Fives *head tilt*: Don't you mean ready to mingle?

Echo *sweating*: No.