#ready to share his wisdom

[lex-the-flex]

coriolanus snow being jelly/ needy and demanding attention,,

been obsessed with him lately tehe <3

“You’re staring again, Coryo.” You announce through your focused state.

"Sorry, Y/N. Can't help it." He says, tossing his pen on the table.

Closing your notebook, you let out a sigh, rubbing your face in mere frustration. Leaning back in your chair, the study room’s ticking clock provides a low level profile for getting work done. But in this case, you were far more than ready to give up.

“It’s not fair! Why must our professors give us an essay and two projects to work on? Do they think we’re robots?!” Arachne questions, throwing her history book on the table.

Turning to face Coriolanus, you widely opened your eyes, hoping he shared the same annoyance at Arachne’s endless complaining. Thankfully he did. Offering you a small smile, you turned back to the study group.

“Because we’re preparing for the 10th Hunger Games. We need to know the importance of the games.” Clemensia replies.

“Besides, we’re all going to be mentors next year. So this is vital for the University. They accept any students who wish to be mentors.” Sejanus adds, leaning onto the table.

“Okay, Mr. Plinth Prize. Please spare us of your wisdom and can we please go get dinner before the mess hall closes?” Arachne asks, standing from her chair.

“Yes please! I’m starving.” Clemensia responds, grabbing her bag.

Standing from your spot at the table, you notice that everyone has practically bolted out the door: except for Coriolanus.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asks, grabbing his bag.

“Yeah, just exhausted, that’s all. I feel like I’m reaching my limit, Coryo.” You respond.

Following Coriolanus to the mess hall, you were so deep into your conversation that you stopped paying attention to the stairs. Upon reaching the second to last bottom step, the sole of your shoe got caught, and you started to fall forward towards the carpeted floor.

Unable to stop yourself, Coriolanus jumped in and leaped forward. Swiftly catching you in his arms, you couldn’t help but yelp at the action.

“Are you alright? What happened?” He asked.

“I’m alright. I think I just slipped.” You reply.

Glancing up at Coriolanus, his worried face and scrunched brows made your stomach turn with excitement. His icy blue eyes were forever locked onto your own e/c orbs and his once neat blonde curls were now draped over his forehead.

Keeping his arms gently around your forearms, the echoing ambiance of the mess hall seemed to fade, until Arachne interrupted.

“Oh what do we have here? Some new lovebirds in our midst no doubt.” She teases.

“Leave them alone.” Sejanus called out.

Finally letting go of Coriolanus, the two of you fixed your uniforms and promptly headed to get dinner. Waiting in line for your food, you couldn’t help but feel Coriolanus’ grip on your shoulders. As your heartbeat slowly started to return to normal, you refused to let Arachne’s constant jokes get in your head.

After all, you had better things to worry about.

Returning to the study room, Coriolanus offered to carry your meal, so once he opened his paper bag, you rested your hand on top of his to make sure he didn’t let go.

“There. Thanks, Coryo.” You replied.

Briefly pulling your hand away, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you. He wanted to keep you here, with his hand in yours. But he hesitantly let go, as he knew that the study session was almost over.

Finishing your meals, you let Clemensia proofread your essay, to which she found was brilliant. After a while, you noticed that Coriolanus slowly moved closer to you. And after a few minutes of concentrated silence, his fingers began to brush along the trim of your jacket. Facing him, he promptly motioned toward his pile of notes.

“Can you explain this to me, Y/N? I don’t know what this line means.” He asked.

Leaning closer, you ended up sitting on the edge of your chair. Offering his hand on the small of your back, Coriolanus gave you his full attention as you started to explain the poem to him.

[youryanderedaddy]

Tw: female reader, obsessive thoughts, nsfw, dub - con (reader is intoxicated), hinted stealthing

I'm thinking about a sweet, shy boyfriend who slowly but surely grows insecure, paranoid and jealous.

At first he's everything you've ever wanted - you're his first girlfriend and he does everything in his power to make you feel loved and appreciated.

As time passes, this doesn't change - he's still treating you like a goddess. But you are both different people now. You mature and you change, you blossom into a more radiant version of yourself. You finally get your dream job. As you gain more experience and wisdom, you begin to realize you want more from life than the small provincial town you've spent your whole life in.

In the beginning he supports you fully - he wants to see you happy after all. But then you start coming home later and later, looking more tired than the day before. Your friend circle broadens, and you spend more and more time outside of your shared home. Before the man knows it, it's Friday evening again and he's passively staring at you while you fix your makeup and adjust the tight dress (his favourite), ready to go to yet another networking event - for the third time this week.

You kiss his cheek, telling him not to wait up, just like that - no sweet words, no reasurrings or tempting promises, nothing he can cling onto in the darkness of your empty bedroom. Your perfume still lingers in the heavy air, making him light - headed. He can't stand it anymore - he buries his face in your pillow, savoring your smell, then he wraps the soft plush around his throbbing length and just thrusts, pathetic broken moans muffled by his own hand. He thinks about your smile and your eyes and the way you say his name and--

Fuck, now your pillow is all dirty again. Your boyfriend can't remember the last time he got to touch you directly. Recently you're always too tired or stressed out when you come back home, and though he's been respectful of your wishes, he's just so pent up at this point - all his dreams consist of you in compromising positions covered in silk and lace and nothing else. Just thinking about it gets him hard all over again.

So this night when you come home drunk and needy, climbing over his lap, he doesn't bulge - doesn't push you off. He doesn't like your new life - having to share you with all those people who don't deserve you, having to stay aside and watch as you give yourself away to people who couldn't care less. He's the one who cares about you so much he's going crazy every second you're apart. He's your real family, he's the only one that should matter to you.

And that night as he fucks you raw for the first time in forever, his cock stretching your velvety walls beyond reason, your blissed out moans and cute little cries tell him exactly what he wants to hear. You're finally letting go, finally allowing yourself to feel safe and protected in his arms. This is your home, this is where you belong. Your body is calling out to him to take control - and he intends to do just that.

[monicahar]

reminiscence.

fem! reader, scara and nahida would act like siblings change my mind, includes sumeru archon quest spoilers!

“would you mind telling me more about [name]?”

scaramouche had to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“excuse me?”

“[name]. i want to know more about her.”

the tiny god of wisdom gently rocks back and forth on her makeshift swing created by her control over dendro—watching over the city of sumeru with soft eyes whilst the former harbinger stares daggers onto the back of her head.

a sigh escapes the man's lips from behind her, a telltale sign of his incoming exasperation, “you read my mind without my permission again? i remember clearly telling you to cut it out, didn't i?” his annoyance doesn't come unnoticed by the observant child.

“it was quite improper of me to do so, but i'm the god of wisdom. i actively seek out knowledge, and such—i couldn't resist the temptation of peering onto a mind as eccentric as yours.” her tone remains understanding of his irritation, yet all the more wise in explaining her unwarranted prying.

the dark-haired male behind her hums, leaning back onto the tree as he shuts his eyes closed, seemingly given up on voicing his displeasure towards the archon.

“tell me what you know so i'll know where to start.”

his immediate compliance makes the curious child turn her head his way, staring at him with wide eyes.

“you...” nahida trails off as she smiles in relief, quickly reminding herself to not comment on his chosen act of opening up as he might get impatient and dismiss the subject altogether.

the distant chatter of her people down at the city successfully averts her attention from him, her eyes now gazing down at a certain blonde traveller stopping by to buy some supplies for their next adventure.

“you were dreaming of her during your slumber. she's...the fourth betrayal you encountered, correct?” nahida knows that you were anything but a betrayal, but she has to bend her words to his whims for now as to avoid a temper tantrum.

scaramouche hums in response.

“out of all the companions you've trusted, you seemed to cling onto your memories of her the most. why is that?”

“if you've read my mind, then i'm sure you already know why.”

“you're not gonna deny it?” the lesser lord cranes her neck to look at him over her shoulder, brows raised questioningly at his statement. “that you were in love, romantically?” she had carefully formed the question to give him the freedom of denying it just in case he wasn't ready to face his past just yet, but this situation was clearly something she didn't expect.

the male remains resting against the tree behind him, uncaring of the child's rather surprised gaze as his eyes stay shut. “if there's one thing you taught me while being under your care, it has to be acceptance.” he feels his anemo vision thrum to life by his chest, but he pays no mind to it as he continues, “i have nothing to lose now, so I might as well stop lying to myself to give my existence some type of meaning.”

nahida can't help the softening of her eyes towards the male, her smile widening by a fraction before she returns her gaze towards the city below her. if anything, that's probably his way of thanking her. it's a pretty roundabout way considering the better alternatives, but it managed to get the message across, didn't it?

she sighs in content, “that's essentially all I know about her. once again, would you mind telling me how she was like?”

you would probably pass out if you found out that the god of wisdom wishes to know more about you.

the ends of his lips twitch upwards for a moment as he thinks back on the memories he held dearly of you;

ranging from the embarrassing and funny moments you two shared like that one time you accidentally mistook him as a girl due to how graceful and fair his skin and face was, or up to the more intimate moments—like watching the narukami festival unfold along with its blooming fireworks from the mountain peaks of tatarasuna...

...and that one time he finally let your desires free and bared himself for you to touch—his first time.

he feels his cheeks burn at the thought, crossing his arms with a huff as if to breathe out the sinful thoughts.

now that he was free from the shackles of burdens and hatred, everything he experienced with you no longer seemed to be as bitter and disgusting to recall—unlike the times before where he'd have occasional dreams of you back in the fatui, the pettiness in his nerves as he calls it a nightmare that reminds him of how naïve and weak he was back then.

he returns to the matter at hand with a new sense of clarity—now what was he supposed to say again?

right. he was supposed to tell nahida about you.

he can't believe he's still blushing over you after all these centuries.

lifting his eyelids, the first thing he catches in his eyesight was nahida's knowing smile—directed right at him as she stays still on her swing.

why is she—?

oh.

making haste with his movements, he quickly lifts his hand to pull down his hat over his face, only to discover he wasn't wearing his hat at the moment—so pathetically enough, he opts to cover his face with a hand, shyly hiding his face from the grinning archon as he looks away with reddened cheeks and ears.

he got too carried away while reminiscing, it seems.

“i see...so you're still very much in love with her, hm?” nahida speaks up with a teasing tilt to her voice, relishing in this rare moment of the male's lowered guard, “not like i blame you. she was really pretty in your dreams, and probably even prettier in person.”

“shut up. do you want me to continue or not?”

with a quick apology amidst her fit of giggles, she nods, looking away once again from the eccentric wanderer to give him the privacy he deserves.

“sorry, sorry. now you may start.”

her curiousity is piqued. just how much of an impact did you make to cause the male to make such interesting reactions?

she's about to find out now, it seems.

might make part two idk

[strnsvt]

yoon jeonghan — pineapple's kiss and dad's wisdom.

dad!jeonghan ; mom!reader

jeonghan was greeted by the sound of laughter echoing through the house. a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he kicked off his shoes, the familiar warmth of home enveloping him.

making his way into the living room, he found you and ara sitting on the couch, your faces lit up with joy.

"what's all this laughter about?" jeonghan asked, kissing you and ara on the cheek before settling onto the carpeted floor, leaning his back against the couch, loosening his tie.

"go on, tell your papa what happened at school today," you prompted.

ara's laughter bubbled over as she leaned forward, eager to share her story with her father. "pineapple kissed me on the cheek!"

jeonghan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "pineapple kissed you on the cheek?" he repeated.

you nodded, adding "a boy in her class, she calls him pineapple cause he looks like one,"

jeonghan's eyebrows furrowed in bemusement, "first of all, how does one look like a pineapple?" he stammered, trying to wrap his head around the peculiar nickname.

"and secondly," he continued, his tone shifting to a more serious one, "you can't let a boy just kiss you like that, ara. you need to set boundaries,"

you nodded in agreement, placing a comforting hand on ara's shoulder. "your papa's right, ara. it's important to respect yourself and make sure others respect you too."

"i know, ma, papa. but i like him. and i liked when he kissed me. just like how you kiss ma,"

jeonghan sighs. his heart softening at ara's innocent nonetheless. "ara, sweetheart," he began gently, "i'm married to your ma, which is why we can do things like kiss each other. but for you, you're still very young,"

"that's right, honey. when you're older, you'll understand more about relationships and what's appropriate," you say, offering a small smile.

jeonghan paused, his thoughts swirling as he considered how to proceed. he recalled ara's innocent confusion about the concept of boyfriends, and he didn't want to inadvertently introduce more confusion into her young mind so he avoides using that word.

"ara," he began, "see, papa will be very upset if you allow a boy to kiss you," he says, his tone soft yet very firm.

ara glanced at you and then jeonghan as she nodded solemnly with a smile, "ok ma, papa. i'll listen," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

jeonghan's heart swelled with pride as he reached out to gently ruffle ara's hair. "that's my girl," he said softly, a warm smile gracing his lips.

as bedtime approached, jeonghan lifted ara onto his back, ready to give her a piggyback ride to her room. ara giggled with delight, wrapping her arms around her father's neck as they made their way down the hallway.

once ara was tucked into bed and drifting off to sleep, jeonghan returned to your room, he noticed you chuckling to yourself, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"what?" jeonghan asked, his brow raised in confusion as he undos the buttons on his wrist.

"it was just a kiss, jeonghan," you replied playfully, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you watched him.

jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "i know, i know," he said, his tone light and affectionate. "but you know how protective i can get when it comes to our little girl. she's five. she doesn't need a boyfriend,"

"boyfriend? do you think she knows even the meaning of it?"

"she doesn't. that's why i avoided using that word infront of her," jeonghan smiles, scoffing, "pineapple," he muttered, the corners of his lips curling up into a fond smile.

you chuckle too, "that was the nickname me and my friends had for you,"

"huh? when?"

"when i was crushing on you, of course,"

jeonghan's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation. "pineapple? really?" he asked, a mixture of amusement and curiosity evident in his tone.

you nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "yeah, it was just a silly nickname we came up with," you explained, your cheeks flushing slightly at the memory. "but it's funny how things come full circle, isn't it?"

jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head in fond disbelief. "i never would have guessed," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with newfound warmth. "but i'm glad you stopped calling me that."

you grinned, reaching out to playfully poke his arm. "well, you'll always be my pineapple," you teased, a hint of affection in your voice.

[fragileheartbeats]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ♡ㅤ𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶ㅤ۫ㅤ𝅄ㅤೀ

— 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘦, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘓𝘦𝘦, 𝘏𝘢𝘭, 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦, 𝘒𝘺𝘭𝘦, 𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘴 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐓 ─ 𓇼 . ♡𝆬

Her skin, a canvas where perfection resides, Her hair, a cascade of silken tides. Her eyes, a mirror reflecting boundless depths, A universe of emotions, where love intercepts. Her voice, a symphony that soothes the soul, Its melody enchanting, making his spirit whole. Her laughter, a tinkling bell's sweet refrain, A melody that chases away all pain. He worships her as a deity of love, His heart surrenders, soaring like a dove. Her presence fills him with a sacred light, Guiding his path through life's murky night. With every breath he takes, her image lingers, An ethereal vision that sets his heart aflutter. Her existence a gift, beyond compare, A masterpiece of beauty, forever to share. He gazes at her with eyes filled with awe, Lost in her radiance, his soul in tow. Her smile, a beacon of hope and cheer, Dispelling darkness, casting out fear. In her embrace, he finds solace and peace, A sanctuary where his worries cease. Her touch, a gentle caress that sets him free, Healing wounds with its tender alchemy. He cherishes her laughter, prizes her tears, For in her presence, his world fills with cheers. She is his goddess, his guiding star, The love of his life, forever near and far. Through life's trials, he vows to stand by her side, His unwavering devotion, a constant guide. For in her love, he finds his greatest worth, A treasure he'll protect with all his heart's girth.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀 ─ 𔒌 . ♡𝆬

In his heart's embrace, a tender soul resides, A confectioner's dream, sweetened with love's tides. His eyes behold a goddess, radiant and bright, Her every smile, a beacon that banishes the night. Like chocolate's rich aroma, his love fills the air, A fragrant symphony that conquers all care. Each glance from her eyes, a sip of pure delight, Melts his being to a state of dreamy flight. Her voice, a cascade of notes that dance in his ear, A sweet serenade that fills him with cheer. Her laughter echoes, as if bells ring with glee, A celestial chorus, etching her image in his memory. Her skin is as smooth as velvet, so soft to the touch, As if crafted from petals, untouched and unsmirched. Her hair cascades like a stream of molten gold, Ensnaring his heart in its shimmering hold. Her lips, a confection of sweetness, tempt his desire, A tantalizing treat that sets his soul afire. In her embrace, he finds solace and relief, His sugary paradise, banishing all grief. He worships the ground she treads upon with grace, Her every step a dance, a mesmerizing chase. Her smile, a beacon that guides him through the darkest night, Illuminating his path with its radiant light. Her mind is a treasure trove, wisdom flows unbound, Her words like honey, healing every wound. Her intellect captivates, her spirit soars, A paragon of beauty, unmatched in all time's doors. With every beat of his heart, his love grows stronger still, A tapestry of emotions, vibrant and true to fill. He's her devoted knight, ready to conquer all, His love for her, an unquenchable, eternal call. He envisions their future, a sugary delight, Filled with laughter, adventures, and love's gentle might. Together, they'll create memories as sweet as chocolate dreams, A lifetime of indulgence, fulfilling all their whims. Oh, sweet chocolatier, forever under her spell, His heart's desire, a goddess who captivates his soul so well. In her presence, he finds joy, contentment, and grace, An eternal love story, written on time's sweet embrace.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ─ 𓇢𓆸 . ♡𝆬

Her every movement, a symphony of grace, Her laughter, a melody that fills his space. He watches from afar, his hunger gnawing, Yearning to possess her, her essence craving. But as reverence turns to possession's lust, He succumbs to a sin, a sacrifice unjust. With each morsel he consumes, her flesh so sweet, His love becomes a horror, a ravenous retreat. He whispers words of adoration as he feasts, His teeth sinking deep, a macabre release. Her eyes, once so radiant, now glazed with dread, As he feeds on her essence, leaving her for dead. In the aftermath, a hollow ache remains, A cruel mockery of the love he feigned. He mourns the goddess he created in his mind, His sorrow a bitter echo, his heart confined. Her bones, once pristine, now a grisly reminder, Of the depravity that love can hinder. He caresses them with trembling hands, a mournful plea, Seeking a connection, a memory to decree. The world judges harshly, their voices a condemning cry, But he remains unyielding, his madness soaring high. For in his eyes, she was not just a mere flesh, But a deity he loved beyond his own death. Haunted by her absence, his spirit wilts, Each passing day, his sanity tilts. He wanders the streets, a pariah outcast, Carrying the burden of his horrific repast. In the depths of his despair, a flicker of remorse, A realization that his actions were coarse. But forgiveness eludes him, his soul forever stained, By the love he destroyed, the life he profaned.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐋 ─ ♕ . ♡𝆬

Her touch, a gentle breeze caressing, Awakening dreams, with blessings blessing. Her laughter, music to his ears, Dispelling sorrows, quenching fears. He led her through the throne room's grace, Where tapestries depicted their embrace. A queen, a goddess, his heart's desire, He'd fallen for her with burning fire. Her virtues, pure as driven snow, Her kindness warmed him, made his soul glow. He worshipped her, not as a mortal maid, But as a celestial being, unafraid. He'd bow his head to gaze into her eyes, Seeing heaven's reflection, a paradise. Her hair, a silken waterfall so fine, Cascading gently, entwined like vines. He'd whisper sonnets filled with fervent praise, Exalting her beauty, a celestial maze. Her smile, a radiant dawn's embrace, A sight that stole his breath, a timeless trace. In hallowed halls, he held her close and dear, His love for her unwavering, crystal clear. He sought her pleasure, her utmost joy, Delighting in her presence, without alloy. The courtly whispers echoed through the halls, Of a king's devotion that shattered all walls. He'd consecrate his realm to her name, His love eternal, an unquenchable flame.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ─ ⛥ . ♡𝆬

Her presence, a perfume, sweet and ethereal, A celestial melody, soft and ethereal. Her voice, a symphony, enchanting and pure, A tender whisper that his every desire lures. Her eyes, a universe of dreams unfurled, Where constellations dance and stardust's whirled. Their gaze, a spell that binds him forevermore, A love profound that knows no bounds nor shore. Her touch, a brush of paradise on his skin, As if a seraph's touch had come to kin. It sparks a flame within, a fire that burns bright, An ardent devotion, day and darkest night. He marvels at her wisdom, deep and true, Her spirit, soaring like an eagle's view. Her grace and poise, a celestial art, A masterpiece of nature, a treasure from the start. He sees not flaws, but only radiant light, A goddess descended from celestial heights. His heart, her temple, where he offers his all, A sanctuary of devotion, an eternal thrall. In her embrace, he finds solace and rest, A sanctuary where his weary soul is blessed. Her laughter echoes through his world like a chime, Dispelling shadows, restoring hope sublime. With every glance, his love grows stronger yet, A tapestry woven with threads of pure delight. He sings her praises, a poet's soul unfurled, For she is his goddess, the jewel of his world.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 ─ ♬ . ♡𝆬

In his eyes, she was a goddess fair, Her presence graced his world beyond compare. Like a beacon in the darkest night, Her love ignited a flame so bright. He adored her every move, Her laughter filled his heart with glee. Her touch sent shivers down his spine, A reminder of her beauty, divine. His thoughts were filled with her allure, Each moment spent with her, he cherished pure. Her smile, a balm for weary eyes, Her presence, a solace, a gentle prize. He danced to her every whim, His heart her captive, forever dim. Her desires, his command, Her worship, his sacred brand. He painted her in vibrant hues,Her eyes twinkled like distant dews. Her skin, like velvet, soft and smooth, He loved her with a passion, uncouth. In his shrine, her image stood tall, A symbol of his devotion, his all. He whispered prayers to her at night, Begging for her constant, eternal light. Her every breath was like a song, Her voice carried melodies that danced along. He would listen for hours, transfixed, In her presence, his soul grew rich.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 ─ ✉ . ♡𝆬

With each stolen glance, a symphony played, A melody woven from the threads of her gaze. Her ivory skin, a canvas for his desire, A tapestry adorned with embers of fire. Her voice, a celestial choir soaring high, Whispering truths that made his spirit fly. Her presence, a celestial balm, so sweet, A refuge from the storms that raged at his feet. In her eyes, he saw his own reflection, A mirror of his soul's hidden perfection. She held his broken pieces with gentle care, Rekindling a flame that had once burned bright. Her laughter, a sparkling cascade of bliss, Banishing shadows with its ethereal kiss. Her smile, a beacon that guided him through, A radiant sunrise illuminating the true. With trembling hands, he touched her silken hair, Like brushing petals, a touch beyond compare. Her every gesture, a masterpiece unfurled, An endless canvas where his love unfurled. He worshiped her beauty, an eternal vow, A sacred flame that forever would glow. Her body, a temple, a vessel divine, A haven where his soul would forever entwined. Lost in the labyrinth of her embrace, His heart found solace, a tranquil space. She was his muse, his inspiration eternal, His goddess, his guiding star, his celestial eternal.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

[cepheustarot]

Who is your soulmate?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur. You build your own life and destiny.

Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: Your soulmate is a smart, rational, erudite person with a lot of experience and wisdom. He is also quite sociable, he can find a common language with any person, he is quite polite and tactful in communication, tries to be attentive to the interlocutor. However, he may be conservative in places and his views are somewhat outdated, but he commit his views. Also, this person is quite hardworking, he can work or study a lot, but he enjoys his work or study. Your soulmate is purposeful, but he can go too far in this regard and achieve his goals "by going over people's heads." In everyday life, he is in a rather relaxed state, on a chill, looks like someone who does not worry about anything and does not take all problems to heart, he takes life lightly. It is cozy and comfortable next to him, it feels like he is enjoying life and is ready to share these emotions with others, share his mood.  How did the acquaintance with soulmate happen or will happen? He will appear or appeared at a difficult moment in your life, perhaps you were introduced by a mutual friend or you were in the same company, or you could run into one place that you visit very often.

Pile 2: Your soulmate is a calm person, pragmatic, intelligent and well versed in many topics, he is quite stable in every sense, his mood rarely changes and most often he can be found in a calm state, he has a stable income or stable academic success, he is a devoted and constant interlocutor, that is, he can keep in touch with by you for many years. In addition, he is quite ambitious, builds a lot of plans and they are always competently constructed, that is, he rarely has situations when something goes wrong, he keeps everything under control. Your soulmate is quite attractive, passionate, charismatic, he may have high self-esteem and a lot of ambitions. And although a person is calm in himself, he can sometimes tell something emotionally, he has a expressive mimicry. How did the acquaintance happen or will happen? As one of the options, you have experienced a breakup with your partner or are experiencing it now, or if you were not in a relationship, then you could have ended a friendship with a person close to you, it was a great shock and loss for you. And here your soulmate seemed to have fallen from sky, that is, acquaintance with him happened suddenly, most likely he was the first to write to you or came up to talk, but you really did not expect him and his appearance in your life was unexpected.

Pile 3: Your soulmate is a rather closed person, uncommunicative, he consciously refuses new acquaintances and he is comfortable with the people he has in his environment now. He likes to spend time with his loved ones, but he cannot be called active and after spending time with someone, his social battery runs out and he again needs to spend some time alone with himself to get back to normal. He also likes to do everything alone, rarely asks for help. By himself, he is a creative person and in general, creativity is his passion, his favorite thing. He can also be a popular artist, musician, writer on the Internet, or he has only recently started posting something online and is just beginning to gain popularity.  How did the acquaintance happen or will happen? Most likely you will be the first one who will approach to meet a person. And since your soulmate is closed by himself, he will be reluctant to contact you, so it will take time to get closer to him. In any case, you will find an approach to him and find, you will tell him about your feelings, how you would like to get closer to him, how you like to communicate with him and everything in this spirit. And your sincerity and openness will attract him, he just needs time to get used to you, to learn more about you.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback <3

[robfinancialtip]

Born and raised in Staten Island, Jeremy found himself drawn to the allure of acting. His story takes a pivotal turn when to alleviate tension, he enrolls in an acting class that sets the stage for his future in the limelight. Juggling an array of odd jobs, from working with autistic children to slinging drinks as a bartender, he embraced the challenges of Los Angeles. This city demanded resilience and tenacity.

Fate intervened, and Jeremy found himself in LA, where he crossed paths with Jerry Ferrara. The struggle of a burgeoning actor navigating showcases for representation is a tale Jeremy shares with candor. He also takes you behind the scenes of an alternative showcase he orchestrated, a chapter in his life that showcased his determination to carve a niche in the competitive acting world.

The spotlight intensifies as Jeremy delves into his collaboration with Joey Russo, culminating in the creation of the show "Small Shots." His joy is palpable as he recounts the hosts' admiration for his performance and the surreal moment when a reenactment from "Casino" caught the attention of Martin Scorsese. This fortuitous encounter led to roles in "The Irishman," alongside legends Al Pacino and Robert De Niro.

Reflecting on the unexpected success of "Small Shots," Jeremy highlights the importance of savoring creative pursuits and staying true to one's passion. The entertainment industry's challenges, his personal journey toward sobriety, and the vital role of teamwork in the industry are discussed with an openness that resonates with aspiring artists.

He teases upcoming projects like "Inside Man" (formerly "The Gemini Lounge") with Emile Hirsch and Lucy Hale, as well as films such as "The Vortex" with Billy Gardell and "Replica" featuring Mickey Rourke under the direction of Paul Tully; Jeremy Luke leaves us eager for what the future holds. In closing, he imparts wisdom gleaned from his path, emphasizing the necessity of maintaining an open heart in the unpredictable realm of creation.

A motivational lesson that stands out is the importance of perseverance, passion, and seizing opportunities. Jeremy Luke's journey from Staten Island to Hollywood is a testament to the power of determination. Despite facing challenges and setbacks, he pursued his passion for acting, even working in nightclubs to support himself.

The podcast highlights how important it is to find and embrace inspiration in unexpected places. Jeremy's encounter with autistic kids during a showcase became a turning point, motivating him to create "Small Shots" to raise awareness.

Moreover, the experience of reenacting a scene from "Casino" with Martin Scorsese and Robert De Niro emphasizes the significance of being prepared and ready for unexpected opportunities. Being in the right place at the right time and having the skills to showcase when the opportunity arises can lead to incredible experiences.

The motivational lesson is to stay committed to your dreams, be open to inspiration from diverse sources, and always be prepared to seize opportunities when they come your way. Meet Jeremy Luke, an actor whose journey from the streets of Staten Island, New York, to the glitz and glamour of Hollywood reads like a captivating script. Having graced the screen alongside luminaries like Martin Scorsese and Clint Eastwood, Jeremy's narrative unfolds with tales of resilience, adaptation, and embracing setbacks.

[incorrectbatfam]

Headcanons about Damian drawing his family members?

He has two sketchbooks

The first is his main one, which has:

Dick covering his ears with his feet

Cass lumbering around the halls wrapped in a king-sized duvet

Duke sneaking out the window after he told Bruce he'll be studying in his room

Steph's selfie double chin

Cyberpunk Babs and her souped-up wheelchair

Harper and Cullen teaming up in paintball

Jason falling asleep with a snot bubble in his nose

Tim biting his golf club after missing the easiest putt

Alfred mending Jon's cape

Carrie eating a dandelion

Selina after she got her wisdom teeth removed

Bruce eating mini M&Ms out of his own palm like a horse

He doesn't mind sharing them if people ask

The second is his secret wish fulfillment one that he'll take to his next grave, which includes:

12-year-old Jason smashing cake into 7-year-old Tim's face

5-year-old Duke making his own toilet paper mummy costume… in July

Bruce carrying 1-year-old Cass in a baby carrier while they wear matching Disneyland ears

Selina helping Dick get ready for his first day of kindergarten

4-year-old Steph doodling all over herself and the walls in lipstick

6-year-old Carrie losing her first tooth

8-year-old Cullen in a Barbie jeep and 9-year-old Harper pushing him around the yard

Alfred and 14-year-old Babs decorating cookies

He hides these, but Bruce finds them anyway and mistakes them for actual family photos

[viviennevermillion]

When you wake up from a Nightmare

notes: i just woke from a nightmare and I decided to write this and then the new trailer dropped and god,,,, it was like I was waking up in cold sweat and then seeing Baizhu seeming so calm and caring made me realize that everything is okay. 🥰 ....it is also 5am but I'm living my best life now, deciding to use my creativity to put some love out into this world. ❤️

contains: character x gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship

characters included: alhaitham, baizhu, pantalone

warnings: none

Alhaitham:

When you awoke, jolting up as a shiver ran down your spine, the first thing you noticed were your hands shaking uncontrollably. The second thing you noticed were Alhaithams hands steadily placed onto your shoulders.

With a glance to your right you could see one of the book he was currently reading placed on his nightstand. It seemed as though he woke up early again and decided to spend his time studying and reading as always. Although your skin was still feeling cold and you were quivering, Alhaithams presence immediately made you feel more at ease. He always did. He brought you solidity; like a pillar of logic and realism ready for you to hold onto and ground yourself when you needed it. Just like now, when he pulled you into his chest, gently running his fingers up and down your back as he patiently waited for your breathing to calm, holding you close and covering you with the blanket a little more to try and ease the shaking with his warmth.

Alhaitham always felt to you like a presence distant from everything else around you. A quiet observer, content and happy just studying the way of the world. And when he accepted you into his life, he let you into that little bubble of his; sharing his time with you, letting you sit idly with him as he followed his path uncaring of what anyone else thought of him or did. You knew this was only partially true, but he often seemed unaffected by their actions, like a lone moon orbiting a planet in the peaceful depth of space. And when he explained things to you; when you got to look at the world from his perspective, everything else seemed so small. You, too, could become an observer and in those moments nothing bad could ever reach you.

"It seems the return of dreams to the people of Sumeru did cause some troubles, hm?", he pondered, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then a soft peck to your lips, "don't worry. They're just dreams, they can't hurt you. And anything that can, never will, as long as I'm around." He said this so calmly; factual and confident, that you couldn't help but believe his words. Your lips slowly stopped shivering the more he placed kisses onto them and gently nibbled onto them.

You've been laying there for a while now, Alhaitham talking to you about the content of your nightmare and easing any concerns you might have with rational suggestions and some profound truths at his disposal. When he realized you had calmed down enough from the initial shock, he reached for his book again. "Would you like to know about this book I'm reading?", he asked quietly, letting you get comfortable with your head rested on his chest as he was now sitting up and leaning against the bedframe, skimming through the pages. To someone else, this suggestion might have seemed like he had spectacularly failed to read the room, but to you? You knew he was trying to distract you and make you forget about your troubles.

Despite the fact that he wasn't as much of a fan of the arts, you couldn't help but feel that the way he explained his research to you was beautiful. That Alhaitham had a complex and colorful mind that painted the world for you in a new light. With Alhaithams gentle voice and his fleeting touches, the sun had risen for you long before it actually did in Sumeru. You remembered a distant wisdom, unsure where it had first occured to you: Only they can completely repel the madness. Only dreams can awaken consciousness from the deepest darkness. And it seemed that this time, Alhaitham was the dream you needed.

Pantalone:

Since the dawn of this world, many have been haunted by the horrors of it in their most vulnerable moments, including when they were resting at night. You were no exception to this. Breaking away from the nightmare that held you captive, you were still haunted by its aftermath when you awoke in your dark bedroom, your lover shifting beside you, almost instinctively waking up himself at the hint of your condition.

Pantalone sat up, reaching for the lamp on the nightstand before inspecting your face from a distance at first, illuminated only by the dim light bulb in a starless night. Still lost in your own world, you didn't notice much of what he did consciously until he handed you a glass of water for you to drink. You noticed he had already gotten you a second blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

He knelt beside you, steadying your hand with his as he noticed your shaking fingers were struggling to hold the glass on their own. He gently guided it to your lips so you could drink. The cold water snapped you out of your trance, making you more aware of your surroundings. After you had finished drinking however much water you wanted, Pantalone got back into bed next to you. "Nightmare?", he asked, putting his glasses on to get a better look at you, worry evident in his voice. You nodded, attempting to give him a smile. "Would you like me to hold you?", he asked quietly.

After seeing you nod again, Pantalone snuggled close to you from behind, reaching for your hand and squeezing it. "I get them too, you know", he admitted and whispered quietly as he nuzzled your neck, "they're memories and fears; long gone and yet ever present as I worry about my fate slipping out of my fingers again. Having to fight and endure whatever the gods had in store for a helpless peasant at the price of a dime. But I'll keep you safe, whatever may come. That's a promise." His tone was quiet and thoughtful and you remembered the early days of being with him, seeing mostly his cold businessman facade. Now, you were the only person he allowed himself to be vulnerable around like this, the only one who he'd tell the truths to that he had locked away from even his own mind since the days of his childhood.

"And for now", he added, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I can give you the world if you want to. Maybe a gift will cheer you up." You chuckled, leaning back against him. "You do know you can't impulse-buy your way out of these things right?", you shook your head with a sigh; the panic from earlier long forgotten. "Well, last time we were upset the 4 week vacation in the beach mansion I got us did a pretty good job, wouldn't you say?", he shrugged and you laughed, chucking a pillow at him and leaving his hair messier than it already was. "Evil bourgeoisie", you muttered with a smile on your face and Pantalone pulled you back into his arms, holding you firmly against his chest. "I give you all my time and money and this is how you thank me", he faked a disappointed sigh, making you roll your eyes at how dramatic he could be. Pantalone started kissing your neck, finding all the spots that were ticklish and kissing them repeatedly; letting out a chuckle when you playfully tried to shove his head away.

He eventually surrendered, getting up to grab a leaflet from his desk. "It's an invitation to the premiere of a new opera. It sounds quite promising and we'd be the first people to ever see it in all of Teyvat", he sat down next to you on the bed again, "would you like to go today? Might take your mind off things. I'll get you some clothes for the occasion." "Don't I already have enough fancy clothes for going to galas or the theatre?", you asked, raising an eyebrow but inspecting the leaflet with intrigue. "Shh, let me do this for you", Pantalone wasn't budging. You rested your head against your hand and shook it with a content smile on your face. "There is no helping you, is there?", you sighed and Pantalone chuckled, removing your hand to give him access to your lips, kissing you softly and repeatedly. "Of course there isn't. Not since I've fallen hopelessly in love with you, my dearest", he let you hold him, closing his eyes as he buried his face in your neck. "I love you too", you pressed a kiss to his forehead as he slowly drifted back into sleep.

Baizhu:

You woke up from the nightmare in cold sweat, feeling your hands and legs shake as you tried to recognize your surroundings through the tears in your eyes. When you turned your head, you saw Baizhu sitting at his desk and signing several documents. Noticing you were awake and in distress, he immediately scooted over to you, sitting down at your bedside and taking your hands into his gently, as if he was afraid they'd break. Which was ironic, given that he was always in much worse condition than you. "Would you like to tell me what's wrong?", his voice was soft and kind, like everytime he treated a patient, especially the more vulnerable ones.

You told him about your dream and shifted your hands to hold his instead, gently massaging his knuckles with your thumb. The motion grounded you, although you were still shaking. "You'll be fine again in no time", he reassured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "wait here, I'll get you some things that'll help you. I'll leave Changsheng here so you don't have to be alone." He placed the white snake next to you and calmly exited the room.

Changsheng looked after him and then turned her head towards you. "He's worrying so much about you, you know? He does that all the time. I bet right about now he's skimming through the cabinets like a madman." You heard glass shattering in the room next door. "See? I told you."

You were about to attempt and get up when Baizhu entered the small room again, carrying a cup of tea that was shaking in his hands and a hot water bottle he placed into your arms. He waited patiently as you drank the tea, then removing some of the more bothersome clothes he was wearing to comfortably lie down next to you. He let you hold him in your arms and play with his hair as you talked about the nightmare you had. Baizhu would then tell you what he thought the meaning of the dream was and he always managed to twist it into something positive and hopeful.

"You know, this tea is bitter as fuck", you sighed, running your fingers up and down his back, "I think half of Liyue Harbor's population is already questioning what happened to your taste buds." He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your collarbone. "I'm sorry, my love. I can make you a new one-" You shook your head. "I've kind of gotten used to it by now. Besides, I know you made it with love", you'd press a kiss to his forehead and could feel him smiling against your skin. He put a finger under your chin and leaned closer to kiss your lips, slowly and lovingly. His hand caressed your cheek as if you were made out of porcelain and the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on. "It's not even that bitter", he commented after his lips had left yours. "That's just your personal impression", you smiled, "I love you." He let out a satisfied hum and nuzzled your cheek. "I love you too. Are you feeling better now, dear?", his voice was still laced with a little concern but he smiled back at you contently as you nodded. "Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that", he squeezed your hand.

He'd let you decide whether you wanted to go back to sleep or sit on his lap for a while as he was signing documents. Either way, he wouldn't leave your side again for the night. If you chose to go to sleep, he'd remain right in your arms, both of you sharing a well-deserved rest.

[peachsayshi]

➳ (minors, ageless, blank blogs dni) 

okay, okay, but imagine having a crush on your big brother/sister’s best friend, suguru.

geto knows all about it, by the way, because you make it impossible to prove to him otherwise with the way you act so shy and coy around him, and it really just makes him grow to have the softest little heart for you, and only you.

you were always close enough to admire him but he lures you away before you even get a chance to crack the surface of his beautiful shell. for five years you watch with envious eyes as he navigates his romances, basking other girls with attention that you only ever dreamed of. 

at twenty-two, you didn’t waste away your precious focus with any other guys (not yet anyway) - you were too busy with your university studies to even consider the possibility of a relationship...but an opportunity presented itself suddenly, a chance of something new when a friend lightly brushed their lips over your own in the middle of a study session. 

your face is hot by the time you arrive at suguru’s apartment. you’ve remained connected since your first meeting, but you only started getting closer to him in the last year. 

you know that you’re always welcome, but he’s still surprised to see you when he opens his front door. 

he invites you in, let’s you lounge on his comfortable sofa while he makes you tea. meanwhile, you soak in his bachelor pad, taking in the details of the balance between his modern and traditional taste. by the time he sits next to you, you feel so very small, forgetting that he’s now grown into the man that he is. 

broad shoulders, strong physique, the shine of wisdom and age brightening his eyes, and yet, he’s still somehow remained so fucking breathtaking...

...still makes your heart trip over itself with just a simple smile. 

it takes you a while to tell him what happened, but the words pour out of you like you’re an open faucet. you don’t even realize that he’s inched himself closer to you, concern and curiosity tugging at his expression as he hears you ramble on about how you turned your face away so your friend could just aim for your cheek, about your pathetic apology as you quickly excused yourself out the door, and about your frustrations on not knowing how to kiss. 

“it’ll happen for you when the time is right, sweetheart,” suguru consoles with a serious kindness. 

“but what if I'm ready now?” 

he laughs under his breath, your innocent question only brightening his wolfish grin. “then you’ve just got to wait for the right person...” 

you can’t help but lean into him, lifting your gaze so your faces were a few inches apart.

it takes all the courage in the world for you to ask, the fear of rejection a reflection in your anxious eyes. 

“can...can you show me, sugu?” 

geto’s expression falls, indicating that he’s clearly caught off guard, but what sends a tremor down your spine is how his eyes immediately shift to your lips. 

there’s a visible tension tugging his shoulders, and his jaw twitches when you confess that you’ve seen him kiss other girls before. he can’t believe that you’ve caught him during such intimate moments with his previous partners, but the blush that highlights the tips of his cheekbones happens when you admit that you’re just really curious to know what it would feel like. 

“I’m safe with you,” you point out, “If I’m being honest, just can’t imagine sharing this with anyone else...nobody else knows me like you do” 

the more you talk, the more his eyes deepen with a desire that’s never made itself known, a desire that forces your ribs to squeeze tightly around your lungs. 

everything around you melts like a surreal painting when he complies with your request; you can’t even think when you feel him cradle your cheek in his palm while glides his nose down the bridge of yours. you swallow hard feeling his thumb softly stroke your neck, the fan of his warm breath on your skin making your lashes flutter close as he traces over your pretty, pouted lips. 

“kissing you will be different,” he murmurs, his captivating words entrancing you in a spell. “because I’ve never kissed anybody like the way I’m about to right now...” 

just as you part your lips to question the meaning behind his declaration, he presses his mouth onto yours and tenderly ignites your soul. 

[yanderenightmare]

something i havent seen you do is Bakugou with an equally famous or successful reader, like she's still quirkless but maybe an idol of sorts? i think it could be interesting

BNHA ! HEADCANONS + IMAGINE

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, some slight nsfw, obsession, coercion, abuse of power

PROFESSIONAL

Your face is on the poster plastered right next to his, only you look like his stark opposite.

Flowers instead of explosions frames you and your dewy skin. Glittering with the spritz of perfume you’re commercializing instead of the droplets of sweat and grease he’s smeared with.

A catlike grin plays deceptively soft in the corner of your glossy lips, whereas his bear a crazed maniacal demonstration of canines like a rabid mongrel.

And your eyes, painted with a seductive blend of smokey colors similar to the smudge of his war paint, though refined to make you look oh-so-lush and divine, like a queen, and he, only a lowly sooty footsoldier in comparison.

He buys magazines you’re featuring in and reads them before bed.

Ending up with a hand bobbing beneath the cover.

Feeling lucky like none when the poster within is a large A3 foldout of you in something rather risqué. 

He reads your interviews from cover to cover or watches them on TV.

His heart pounding when the segment of your nameless childhood bully is brought up. Happy to see you haven't forgotten him.

He was a complete desperate mess when you did that extremely private lingerie commercial that had you showing off nearly all assets on a set of pillows and plushies.

Losing his mind looking through the mesh and chiffon right to where your nipples teased him with their perky strut. 

Not to mention your face and your expressions… 

You really know how to play to the camera. So much so it makes him jealous of the photographer. 

He’d like to be the one to tell you to pose and give him a pout. Pretending he is when slowly peeling each page over to view the following image. Throat tight and dry and palms sweaty, watching you crawl and give a rather intimidatingly large teddy bear a kiss on the cheek.

You’ve definitely become something different from your shared days in middle school.

Something confident and alluring.

Something he wants to play with in a wide new variety of ways than before.

It’s good that your industry often intertwines with his.

He knows exactly which model to request when his agency wants to shoot a new campaign poster starring Dynamight saving a Damsel in Distress.

No one but you fit the role so picture-perfectly, being both a beautiful idol and a quirkless citizen.

You’ve learned to refrain from asking your handler any questions, just doing what the strict woman tells you, be it what jobs to take, how to dress, or what to eat. It’s better that way. She’s a professional, and you owe your entire career to her wisdom. But once you get to the photo shoot and start recognizing the props of a certain hero decorating the stage, you get queasy with unease upon understanding exactly which pro hero you’re going to be shooting with. 

Swallowing thickly, you bar yourself in your dressing room for a minute. Your handler already shouting at your ear enough to make you wince with tears at the ready as you try to explain the sticky situation to her. Naturally, your cries fall upon deaf ears, and soon enough, you’re convinced you’re being silly. This is a huge opportunity, after all. Dynamight is on par with Deku, having shared the title of the number one hero ever since they graduated. It would be career suicide to decline a collab with him, especially now that you’re already under contract with his agency.

You splash your face with cold water to calm the swelling left by your tears and get dressed in the silky white summer dress provided to you. It’s a pretty article, you think without being overly happy about it. It’s a thin, nearly see-through, backless model with a rather deep dip reaching down between your breasts. And though it isn’t at all the first time you flaunt your body in a nearly nude state in front of the world, it certainly is the first time you do so in front of the guy who used to pick your appearance apart until you cried. You only hope he doesn’t recognize you and that the shoot will be over before he eventually can.

You’re glad your handler does what her job suggests and handles all handshakes and greetings on your behalf. But though all the formalities of the work fall upon her shoulders, the part of the actual modeling is something only you can do.

You’re able to remain professional for the most part, barely ever glancing in his direction, though picking up on his mass from the corner of your eye and through the veil of fake lashes where you keep your eyes glued to the floor as the photographer gives instructions for the new pose. But then comes the direction you were dreading, the one which has the two of you touching. And even though you knew it was inevitable, you still flinch when he puts his hands on you.

And though the assistants, handlers, managers, and photographers are all oblivious to your discomfort, he notices, smiling at your tiny shivers and how well you hide them.

He’s so much bigger than you remember, you think while you try steadying your breath and convincing yourself that it isn’t any different from all those other times you’ve gone out of your comfort zone for the sake of a good deal. The shoot you did for Playboy Magazine had practically been a porno, and that time you’d been surrounded by a great deal of big beefy men, much similar to the one touching you now. 

Still tough... you had a laugh that time around. You had fun.

This wasn’t fun.

“Funny this.” He spoke, and you feared he was speaking to none other than you.

Holding you in a scoop of a bridal carry, you felt the harsh metal of his costume dig into your skin, not more than the grip of his hands clawing at your flesh like a predator sinking its teeth into caught prey. The grime on his fingers dirtying the white of your dress.

“Or… ironic is a better word for it.” He adds, and you finally look up into that face that still sometimes haunts you in your dreams despite having been out of your life for years. “Oh- don’t say you don’t remember me, Quirkless?”

After the shoot, the photographer praises you on your ability to portray true distress, unbeknownst that the sentiments in your expressions were genuine, and you almost trip over the stage props while thanking him, wanting to leave the set as quickly as possible in favor of going home.

But obviously, shooting a campaign poster isn’t why you’re there.

“Have dinner with me.” He says, with his hand, seemingly made to break bones, wrapped tight around your twiggy wrist. Stopping you from running away.

And just as expected, your handler accepts before you can make the costly mistake of refusing.

tip-jar: Kofi

[aida-sparks]

Bobby's Advice to Eddie in 6x17 is Buddie-Coded

Eddie's decision to go on a date with Marisol at the end of 6x18 does not jive with the advice Bobby gave him in their talk at the hardware store in 6x17. I believe what Bobby said holds significance and will eventually still come into play.

Early in the 6x17 episode, when the 118 are on their way to a call, Eddie is teased for his disastrous attempts at finding a date. He says, "I just want what I had when I met Shannon. It was magic."

By the episode's end, Eddie finds himself alone in the hardware store, searching for glue for Christopher's school project when Marisol spots him. "Looking for something?" she asks. She points him to the right glue saying, "Works like magic." Eddie happily replies, "This is exactly what I was looking for." This implies that Eddie associates this chance encounter with Marisol as the "magic" he was looking for that he mentioned to the team—a similarity or familiarity, more of the same.

However, none of this resonates with what Bobby was trying to convey to him earlier in the hardware store - in the very same episode!

The two main points Bobby made to Eddie:

1.) "You can't compare what you had with what you think you're going to have." He advises Eddie to be open to whatever comes, even if it's not what he initially sought. This is evidently contrary to what he finds in Marisol. 2.) Bobby shares how he realized Athena was the one for him. He recalls a tough motorcycle call and how Athena "sat with him."

Who in Eddie's life fits both points 1 and 2 best? Buck! Buck is unlike what Eddie had with Shannon. Buck has been there for Eddie in some of his darkest moments, notably after his breakdown. Buck and Eddie mirror Athena and Bobby's dynamic perfectly when it comes to point 2.

Bobby seems so eager and attentive to Eddie in this scene, ready to help, hopeful that Eddie will figure something out, yet patient because Eddie hasn't fully connected the dots yet but needs to do so on his own.

The bottom line: Bobby's words carry weight. They mean something. Bobby's wisdom matters. The show wouldn't have included this scene and these words in the script if Bobby's advice meant nothing to the overall story still being written, right? Right?

We know Bobby is somewhat of a mastermind; consider his decision to send Chimney to the academy in 6x14, which ultimately helped both Chim grow as a leader and led to Chim bringing Ravi back to rejoin the 118.

When it comes to Buck and Eddie's relationship, I think Bobby quietly sees something between them that transcends beyond friendship. Something different. Something more. Even if Buck and Eddie haven't fully realized it themselves yet.

Bonus quip from this episode: When Eddie tells the team on the truck, "It was magic," Chimney smirks and says, "So you believe in magic?" (obviously a poke at Eddie's fervent belief that the Universe does not scream), Eddie responds, "I believe in chemistry." And we more than know he and Buck have the ultimate chemistry with each other. ;)

[summerdiphylleia]

The next right thing

Chapter 1: The 74th Hunger Games

Summary: Felicia has always been succesful at overlooking the tributes' names and faces, but ignoring Katniss Everdeen was proving to be a rather difficult task. And she hated herself for it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x wife!oc

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

*******************

“Are you ready, my dear? Our guests are arriving.”

Felicia stood against the bathroom counter, staring at the mirror. The same mirror that had been looking back at her for over twenty years. Two decades, wasting away in that mansion. It was hard to believe so many years had passed, but the reflection in front of her reminded Felicia of all the years gone by. There were wrinkles around her eyes, and the skin sagged a little around her cheeks and her neck.

She was often offered ‘enhancements’, as they liked to call it in the Capitol, but she refused all of them with a polite smile. She liked the way she looked, worn down as she was. Her eyes remained the same tender, amber brown, although they carried more wisdom and worry than before. Her hair still bore hints of the soft, buttery blonde colour she kept from her youth, but was starting to get lost within the handful of grey hairs she’d grown in the last couple of years. She usually had them fixed by her hairdresser, but didn’t brood on it so much. She took pride in carrying sixty years of age, and she didn’t mind showing it. 

She turned around, and found her husband waiting with a hand extended for her. He also showed signs of ageing, even more so than her: his once impeccable blonde hair had turned completely white, and his face looked withered down; like her he had declined any offers of going under the knife. 

But he had kept his height —he still very much towered over her— and every so often, when the Games were far off and politics sat low on his mind, Felicia could swear she got glimpses of his younger self on his eyes: on the way they curved into a smile after she teased him, on the way they shone whenever they discussed a subject he was keen on, on the way they kept on sharing that spark, that boyish grin, with a man from her past that hadn't been as yearning for power, as corrupted by it. 

“Your bowtie is not properly fastened,” she chuckled, reaching towards him, “let me get it.” 

He studied her, while she worked on fixing his tie, leisurely scanning her from top to bottom. She wasn’t wearing anything too fancy, a simple maroon dress embroidered with small golden flowers, and a pair of small heels matching in colour. Her hair was half up in a bow, and makeup sat simple, not at all too extravagant, on her face. “You look ravishing, dearest.” He whispered, lovingly. She kept focused on straightening his bowtie, but she could feel her cheeks turning the colour of her dress. She wished he wouldn’t say such things so often. It sounded so real. 

Felicia simply hummed in response. “Arabella called,” she explained, in a soft voice, “she told me Max and her wouldn’t be able to attend today’s… gathering.” He stiffened at her words. 

“As they couldn’t last year. And the year before.” He remarked. Felicia briefly glanced at him, and returned her gaze to his collar. “There,” she mumbled, patting on it, “all fixed. You look very handsome.”

He didn’t reply to her, and simply adjusted his suit. He didn’t share his words with her, but she could guess what kind of thoughts raced through his mind. Every time they drifted onto that particular issue, her mind replayed one conversation they had many, many years ago. 

“What exactly are you accusing me of? Turning our infant children into rebels?” She snickered, chasing after him at an amused pace, but Felicia quickly regretted her words. Coriolanus went still, and when he turned around, the look on his face made her flinch. That was the only time she ever felt truly afraid of him. He didn’t just convey rage through his eyes, his whole body swelled on it. He suddenly grew inches in height, and his expression darkened, and she was nothing but a little girl once again. She felt all of her boldness flush away at the sight of him, regretting having allowed herself to yield into such insolence. 

He strode towards her, eyes narrowing in a viperous manner, “don’t joke with that,” he hissed. She raised her gaze, her eyes met his, and anger dropped from his face all at once, and he swiftly glanced around. “Don’t say things like that out loud, you know better than that.” 

She lowered her head. She did know better than that. 

She hated losing her temper. Every time she lost control, he took it. 

Felicia pursed her lips. “I’m sorry,” the words dragged out of her mouth, “but I’m setting my foot down on this. I don’t want them watching that… that thing.” 

Irritation flashed through his eyes once again, then he turned his back at her, and started walking away. “Fine.” 

That was the first time, but not the last one, that an orange pill found its way into her nightstand. 

Felicia blinked the memory away. “Don’t dwell on it, darling,” she sighed, “they’re too busy with work, that’s it. I’ll call them and arrange dinner for the five of us some other time, alright?” 

It was his turn to simply hum in response.

***********

The day went by in a blur. Felicia put on the same act she does every time she’s surrounded by such a crowd: she smiles, and laughs and comments on everyone’s gowns, and makes sure no guest ever has to stand with an empty glass on their hand; and she keeps close to Coriolanus and kisses him and pretends they are a perfectly loving couple. Surprisingly, that remains the easiest part of the facade. 

She doesn’t really pay attention to anything in particular during those days, rather she seeks a void within her. To her, the reaping was nothing but an affair she needed to get through, as cautiously as possible. She doesn’t focus on any of the tributes, she always tries to ignore their faces; they would all die anyway. All but one. One lucky Victor. A lucky child she would get used to seeing in most of the pretentious parties she attended, usually accompanied by a disturbingly older man from one of the high positions in society, who didn’t need to care about keeping his hands to himself. Only seldomly she wouldn’t see said Victor around in such gatherings and, not long after their absence was noted, she would hear the news of their family passing away in some tragic accident. Those nights she went to sleep concluding she’d made an art form out of turning a blind eye. 

The reaping came and went, and before she knew it she found herself in front of the whole Capitol, watching along the parade of the twenty four tributes. Once again, Felicia forced herself into haziness, avoiding to stare at any particular tribute. But the cameras kept on focusing on two of the tributes, though, and their faces were shown on the screens more often than not, even during the President’s speech. She recognised them, they were the two tributes from District 12. Felicia remembered her reapings. That girl… Katniss Everdeen, she’d volunteered for her sister, a little girl whose expression of fear made it obvious it was the first year her name was on the bowl.

Felicia scolded herself for remembering her name. It would hurt so much more when she ultimately learnt of her death. 

***********

The gardens were in full bloom that time of the year, and Felicia often found herself walking around them, buntal hat on her head, and a pair of pruning scissors on her hand. That morning she was being accompanied by her husband, and Theodore, their youngest son. He was a tall boy, with piercing blue eyes, just like his father. His older brother, Maximus, had also inherited most of Coriolanus’s appearance. It was Arabella, the marriage’s only daughter, who looked the spitting image of her.  

They were strolling around the rosarium, tending to the flowers, when Ivan, Coriolanus’ personal bodyguard, a big, brooding man with eyes of a hawk, approached them in a soft trot. “Mr. Crane is here to see you, sir.” 

“Ah, yes,” her husband nodded, putting his scissors on Theo’s hand, “I’ve called for him.” Felicia turned her gaze towards him, annoyance creeping on her mien, but didn’t say anything. She forced her face into a welcoming expression, as Ivan brought the younger man to them. 

“Seneca,” she greeted him in a kind tone, with a warm smile while offering her hand to him, “how lucky of us you’re visiting us.” 

“Mrs. Snow, you look as exquisite as always.” He addressed her, leaving a kiss on her hand. He bore a worryingly stiff grin on his face. “Sir, young man.” 

“Do tell me you’re joining us for lunch?” She urged him, with a cadence only her husband would be able to recognize as fake. “The cook is making some delicious salmon bites, you would be a lunatic for missing them.” 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, Felicia, the Games don't run all by themselves.”

She turned her lips into a cheeky pout, and then her face split into a grin. “Then you’ll have to let me invite you over some other time, so I can properly commend you for the wonderful job you’re doing on them.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled.

Coriolanus and Felicia shared a brisk glance, and she took Theodore by his shoulder. “Come on, sweetling, let’s keep our path. There’s a rosebush over there that desperately needs our help.” 

They waved the gamemaker goodbye, and moved on with their way. Theo looked at her like he wanted to say something else, but she discreetly shushed him, guiding him into a more isolated spot, away from the two men and prying ears of the greenkeepers. 

The pair sat on a bench, next to a particularly unkempt bush, and she showed him where the plant needed to be trimmed and neatened. 

“Mom, why do you hate Seneca?” The boy asked, cautiously, while indifferently working on the roses. 

The question caught her by surprise, and Felicia couldn’t help but giggle, until she saw the serious expression on his face.“What makes you think I hate him?” She questioned him, puzzled. 

“It is because he’s in charge of the Games, isn’t it?” He muttered, “I don’t like him either.” 

Felicia put the scissors away, and gently stroked his hair. “Sweetheart, where is this coming from?” She asked. 

“They make us watch the Games at the Academy, did you know?” He explained, meeting her gaze. She nodded. Of course she was aware. She knew it was only a matter of time before he started commenting on it. “Most of my classmates think it’s some kind of… show, like it’s nothing but entertainment.” 

It pained Felicia to see the defeated look on his face, but she couldn’t help but think of how lucky she was to be having such a conversation with her son, condemning the Games from their very privileged position. She couldn’t bring herself to imagine what mothers in the districts were forced to tell their children. Once again, a sneaky thought crept into her mind. “What if you killed him?”  She blinked it away. 

“Well, you can’t blame all of them, honey,” she sighed, “it’s what they’re instilled.” 

“I know,” he murmured, “I guess I’m just glad you taught us better than that.” 

Felicia smiled, and wrapped him in a hug, leaving a kiss on his head. “You know you can’t say that kind of thing around others, right?” She whispered into his ear. He nodded. She grimaced. She had taught them right. 

***********

The rest of the week went by just as fast. Felicia was demanded to be in the front of the crowd for the tribute interviews, and she did it gracefully. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t help but notice the tributes from District 12. They had bewitched all of the Capitol citizens, especially after the boy had come forward with his crush for Katniss. For the girl, she reminded herself. Everyone swooned over the star-crossed lovers, but Felicia could tell a performance when she saw one. And she had to recognise, it was a very smart one indeed, surely it was securing them with a good amount of patrons. 

With the interviews gone by, and the tributes already within the arena, Felicia could finally numb the rest of the Games out. They were the only thing everyone in the mansion and the Capitol could talk about of course, but she had always found it easy to disappear into her tasks. She answered correspondence, decorated the mansion, went for fashion fittings, attended charity events, visited her two oldest children, occasionally helping them with their work at the hospital. It felt nice reminiscing about her days as a surgeon, when she actually felt useful for something. 

She had Lan, her trusted bodyguard for over twenty years, update her on any news about the Games, in case she found it necessary to discuss such events with anyone of political importance, and day after day she was surprised she felt relieved to hear the District 12 tributes were still alive. 

One day, she heard Cesar Flickerman come into television, announcing that if two tributes of the same district were the last remaining survivors, the two would be declared winners. And for the first time in over thirty years, Felicia sat down and watched the Hunger Games.

******

so, this might be turning into a series after all! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!

[misteria247]

I love the friendship between Legend and Ravio and it's endless possibilities. Like imagine like at first glance it looks like Ravio's presence is nothing but an inconvenience to Legend. Like the grumpy vet seems to either look annoyed or put out whenever he's around the merchant.

But then like the group start to notice things they never did before.

Like they notice that despite Legend complaining about Ravio's overpriced weapons and merchandise, he's also Ravio's number one customer. He'll grumble and complain but by the goddesses if he isn't already pulling out his rubee pouch to get something from Ravio. Or they'll see how Legend gets defensive whenever someone decides to bad mouth the Lorulian. The Hyrulian will straight up be ready to throw hands if he hears someone talking shit and God forbid someone goes to be threatening towards him cuz it's immediately on sight for Legend.

Or they'll notice how whenever Legend seems stuck on something, whether it's a temple or magical item, the hero won't go to Fable, much to the others surprise. But rather he'll go to Ravio and ask him about it, and the Lorulian is always helpful and incredibly intelligent and wise when it comes to giving Legend advice. They also notice that Ravio's wisdom is scarily good, like Zelda levels of good. (Que them debating on whether the unassuming merchant might be the Wisdom holder of Lorule and perhaps getting their Zeldas opinions on it).

They notice that Ravio's opinion is actually pretty important to Legend and he's always including the bunny merchant in plans involving strategy and magic. Always listening inventively to Ravio's words and heeds of caution. Even though Legend will act like he isn't listening at all. They'll notice how protective the vet is of his counterpart, always making sure that he's okay whenever shit hits the fan. (Which Ravio usually is he's a tough cookie beneath the supposed cowardice). And if he's hurt Legend's quick to respond to help him.

Or they notice how Legend memorized Ravio's preferred foods or drinks or hobbies, even taking a small nonchalant interest in a few of them.

Just little things that they never noticed about their traveling companion before till they really paid attention to how he interacts with Ravio in their shared home.

Like there's so much here to explore you don't understand how much this eats at me-

[jymwahuwu]

Imagine reader's child with yan!tighnari turning out like their dad

Like imagine reader hinting to their children that they weren't happy with the marriage by telling stories but their children snitched on them and told yan!tighnari Abt it bc they saw it as their mother trying to leave them

IT WOULD BE SO FUN TO SEE DJJEJS

tw: yandere, non-con, implied kidnapping, spanking, orgasm control, breeding, knotting

yandere Tighnari breeding reader that rejects them part 1

part 2

this is amazing... who doesn't like being punished by Tighnari - with the fox babies it's much harder for you to leave🤭💕

With Tighnari and the fox cubs, life in the forest is peaceful. Fox cubs love to snuggle up to you, mutter "mama" in soft voices, bury their heads in your arms, and the fur on their ears always tickles your chest - and your heart too. You brush and clean the tails of the Tighnari and the babies and apply plant-based waterproofing oil. You like to pet their tails and ears. Every time you do this, the fox cubs involuntarily purr but then deny this.

Tighnari has produced some learning materials for children and you are responsible for teaching them to read, one of the ways is to tell bedtime stories.

"What did you dream about last night?"

"In the past, people in this country could not dream, but now when the God of Wisdom enters the dream, all of us weave dreams…"

One of the cubs said they dreamed of inexhaustible padisarah pudding on the table, you smile. Unfortunately, you find out that all the storybooks have been read. They have inherited the wisdom of their father - they never forget a story they have heard once. You must have new stories to lull them to sleep…

You have an idea, speaking with metaphor.

"In the kingdom of forests and deserts, there lived a bird.

They have wonderful singing voices, and their goal is to become the lead singer among the thousands of birds, offering songs to the sky and stars. However, this is too difficult. They lived with songs, and in the woods there were larks, nightingales, canaries… some of them were mean, but some were kind, and their songs were said to be the best.

They thought they were one of them.

But one day, they found out that they were just ordinary finch, bouncing around the ground, sharing food, singing with other companions - that's their usual life.

They still don't give up, dreaming that they too can achieve their goals.

At this time a fox told them: Do you want to live with me? The life of a bird is too ordinary. Life is more than singing.

They refused.

What they don't know is that the fox has a big cage ready for them. At night, the fox sneaked into the forest quietly. He found them resting on the tree, and the cage covered their bodies. Their singing has since disappeared into the woods.

Living in a fox cabin, they don't need to compete with other birds, there is enough food, gifts and beds, but they kind of miss the sky and the smell of rain. That's what they lost.

One day, they escaped from the fox's house and took to the sky while the fox was not looking. They flapped their wings and sang in the sky, attracting the attention of other birds - they were surprised to find that one of them had such a melodious song.

However, they no longer care about other people's evaluation - they left the forest where they lived, flew over towns, mountains, and fields, leaving sweet songs everywhere for everyone. "

After hearing this story, the fox cubs pouted, a little sullen. "mama, why is the fox in this story a bad guy?"

"That's just a coincidence. The little lion was the villain last time." You smiled and kissed their little foreheads. "Good night, my babies."

The next day, Tighnari returned to the forest from the seminar, and the fox cubs jumped into his arms, yelling "papa!". He hugged them and gave them presents - some new toys. Under study, they are already smarter than many children of the same age at this time.

"Papa, are foxes bad?? Does mama want to leave us?" one of the cubs asked. The cubs recount last night's story to Tighnari - though they don't quite understand parts of the story, they have a vague sense that you want to leave the forest.

"Oh, there's such a thing." Tighnari raised his eyebrows, and there was unknowingly meanness in his tone, but then disappeared, comforting the babies gently. "It's okay, mama is just telling you stories, and won't leave us."

For you it's another attitude - he's away for two days and you're signaling to the kids that you want to leave? Does this mean you already have a plan? unacceptable. Entering the house, Tighnari greets you and casually asks what story you told the babies last night. He notices you avoiding his gaze - "You really don't have anything to confess to me?"

"Wait, my- my story doesn't mean that!" You panicked in denial.

Tighnari does not accept excuses of any kind - punishment is a necessary part of your education since you are so stubborn, chasing your unrealistic dreams.

He orders you to bend over, slips a vibrator into your wet inner wall, and rubs his thumb along the edge of your glistening flesh. The little machinery buzzes and vibrates deep within you. You whimper and beg him to stop. "Please- please- Tighnari I'm sorry- I won't do this again…" You try to keep your balance in the shock, but the ruler appears and smacks your ass hard. The slapping lands on both of your ass cheeks, and it's never in the same rhythm - when you think your left ass is about to get spanked, Tighnari smacks three times on your right.

Tighnari rubs between your legs after a round until orgasm is imminent, then starts a new round, leaving you in deep despair. You can't remember exactly how many times you took it, basically a mess of tears, legs shaking and a stooped posture. "I- I'm so sorry…!!" he asks you in a mean, veiled, sinister voice. "Do you still want to leave? Is there anything more comfortable than getting my cock? Hmm?"

"No- no! I just need you - Tighnari-" you gasp, unable to choose your words. You just desperately want to be released, to be filled.

"Okay," he muttered, sinking his already swollen long cock deep inside you, pounding you hard, rubbing his fingers on your clit. You scream, tears and juice splattering the table, pleasure flowing through your body, your walls contracting.

"Maybe I should give you some other babies." Tighnari announced as knotted inside you. "You won't have time to leave."

[thewulf]

I Choose You || Legolas

Summary: Request - Hii hope you're having a good day, is it okay if I request a Legolas x reader where reader is Gandalf's granddaughter and joined the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring? They both slowly fell in love with each other along the way and when the incident in Moria happened where Gandalf dies, Legolas comforts her.

A/N: Thank you for the amazing request! Had a blast writing this as usual :) It's a lil long, so enjoy!

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.5k +

TW: Talks of war/death, war, death, orcs, general LOTR triggers

You stand silently amidst the gathered council fading into the background as best you could. The murmur of many voices echoing softly through the vaulted halls of Rivendell. The air is crisp, filled with the mingling scents of ancient scrolls and the distant freshness of autumnal leaves. Elves, men, dwarves, and even a few hobbits have come to discuss the fate of Middle-earth, their faces marked by concern and resolve.

Your grandfather, Gandalf the Grey, stands at the center of it all. His presence both commanding and comforting. You’ve always admired his wisdom and strength and today, more than ever, you feel the weight of your lineage. You are his granddaughter, gifted with a touch of his magical prowess and a deep love for the mysteries of this world.

As the debate swirls around you, Elrond, the lord of Rivendell calls for silence. His gaze settles on the small golden ring laid upon the pedestal. It’s simple form belying its terrible power. The task is clear though the path is fraught with peril: the ring must be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. "We must form a fellowship," Elrond declares. His voice resonant and clear. "Those who will take this burden upon themselves and walk into the shadow to see this evil undone."

A hush falls over the council. Eyes turn, some in fear, others in anticipation, seeking those who might step forward. This is the moment you’ve prepared for, not just since you arrived in Rivendell but throughout your life under Gandalf’s tutelage. With a breath that steadies your resolve you step forward. The rustle of your cloak is like a whisper against the stone floor and several members of the council turn in surprise as you move into the circle of light cast by the morning sun through the high windows.

"I will go," you say, your voice firm and clear. "For the love of my grandfather and for the safety of middle earth. I will see this quest through to its end."

Murmurs of approval ripple through the room and Gandalf meets your eyes across the circle. There’s pride in his gaze and a touch of sorrow, knowing well the dangers that lie ahead. But in this moment you see also the unspoken bond between the two of you. An acknowledgment of the shared commitment to what is right, no matter the cost.

Legolas, a prince of the Woodland Realm, nods to you with respect clear in his bright eyes. Beside him, a stout figure grumbles under his breath, yet Gimli the Dwarf gives a curt nod of assent, recognizing your courage. Beside them a young hobbit named Frodo, who is to be the Ringbearer, looks on with wide, earnest eyes. It is for him, and for all who call this land home, that you pledge your strength. As the council disperses to prepare for the journey you stand beside Gandalf feeling the ancient power of Rivendell around you and the even older strength that lies within your own heart. This is just the beginning you know but you are ready. For the Fellowship, for middle earth, for Gandalf.

You will face whatever comes, together.

As the Fellowship journeys south from Rivendell the path grows increasingly treacherous, winding through craggy mountain passes and shadowed forests. The air is crisp and the first frost of winter sparkles on the leaves. Your companions walk close together. Each step a testament to the weight of the task ahead.

Aragorn leads with a steady hand, his ranger skills essential as the terrain becomes more challenging. Beside him, Boromir of Gondor often lends his strength. His booming voice echoing off the stone trying to keep spirits high among the group, especially the hobbits—Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin—who find amusement in the smallest wonders along the way. Like the frost patterns on the leaves or a particularly stubborn squirrel.

Legolas glides effortlessly beside you. His elven grace a stark contrast to Gimli who stumps along with a determined scowl, his axe ever at the ready. Despite the solemnity of your mission the elf and the dwarf have already begun what seems to be an endless competition, each trying to outdo the other in tracking skills, strength, and the telling of tall tales.

One balmy afternoon as the path narrows along the edges of a steep ravine the rivalry comes to a head between the two of them. Gimli insists he can clear a particularly large fallen tree with a single vault much to Legolas’s skepticism.

“Watch and learn, Master Elf,” Gimli grunts as he began to back up for a running start. Legolas watches with an arched eyebrow, clearly very amused by the red headed dwarf travelling beside him.

Just as Gimli begins to charge forward you step in placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps, Gimli, it would be wiser to assist each other over the obstacle rather than compete with others. After all, the road ahead promises ample challenge for both of your strengths.” You smile warmly down at the ambitious dwarf set out to prove himself.

Gimli stops mid-stride puffing out his chest a bit as he turns to you, then to Legolas. “Hmm, perhaps you are right, lass. What say you, Legolas? Shall we make this journey a test of our cooperation rather than our competition?”

Legolas’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes sparkling with a newfound respect. “I believe our companion speaks wisely. Let us proceed together.” He offers his hand to Gimli who looks at it for a moment before shaking it heartily.

As the journey continues you find yourself often mediating and bringing lightness to tense moments. One evening as the Fellowship gathered around the campfire you recount a humorous anecdote from your days studying under your grandfather. Making sure to mimic Gandalf’s stern voice and dramatic gestures. The group erupts into laughter, the sound carrying through the trees and lifting the spirits of all including the hobbits who clap delightedly and ask for more stories.

Aragorn, sitting across from you nods appreciatively. His eyes meeting yours with a silent thank-you for the lightness you bring. Boromir chuckles, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes clearly more at ease. “You have the gift of your grandfather. Not only in magic but in spirit.” Aragorn comments, his voice warm in the chill air.

Legolas who was sitting beside you leans closer and speaks softly, “Your wisdom brings much-needed peace. And your humor is a light in dark times. It is a rare gift.”

You meet his gaze. The firelight cast dancing shadows across his features. All elves were beautiful but there was something about the Price of Mirkwood that drew you in. “We all carry our gifts, Legolas. Yours is your unerring optimism and sharp eye. Gimli’s his steadfastness and heart. Boromir’s his valor. Aragorn’s his leadership. And the hobbits’ their enduring cheer. Together we are stronger than each individual.”

As the nights grow longer and the path more daunting the bonds within the Fellowship deepen, fortified by shared challenges and your quiet efforts to understand, and support each other. In the quiet moments Legolas teaches you Elvish songs of old. And Gimli shares tales of the great Dwarven halls, their voices blending into the night creating a tapestry of friendship and hope.

As the Fellowship delves into the ancient depths of Moria the air grows thick with the mustiness of ages and the weight of stone. The walls echo with the memory of Dwarven voices, now silent. The path is lit only by the faint glow of Gandalf’s staff. Gimli moves with a mix of reverence and sorrow. His eyes reflecting a deep familial connection to the lost realm of his kin. The narrow passages twist and turn leading you deeper into the mountain’s heart. The quiet is oppressive, only broken by the occasional drip of water or the scuffle of a boot on stone. Tension mounts with each step and even the normally unflappable Legolas seems taut, his eyes scanning the shadows.

All too suddenly, the dark stillness erupts into chaos. A low growl escalates into a deafening roar as the Balrog, a creature of fire and shadow, reveals itself. The ground trembles beneath its weight and the air sears with heat. Gandalf steps forward his face set with grim determination. “Lead them on, Aragorn,” he commands. “The bridge is near. Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!” Your grandfather cries as he gives you a sharp look. Obey. You must listen to him now.

The Fellowship rushes forward driven by fear and the urgent need to escape, but you hesitate, your heart torn as Gandalf faces the monster alone. As the others cross the bridge of Khazad-dûm you watch, helpless, as Gandalf confronts the Balrog. His staff was raised, a brilliant light flaring to meet the darkness.

“You cannot pass,” Gandalf declares. His voice echoing powerfully. It sends a shutter down even your spine.

The Balrog advances and with a defiant cry Gandalf strikes the bridge with his staff. It crumbles sending the creature plummeting into the abyss. But the Balrog’s fiery whip lashes out, catching Gandalf’s leg, pulling him towards the edge. With a calm but utterly sad glance back at you, he murmurs, “Fly, you fools,” before falling into the darkness below.

Shock paralyzes you momentarily, tears blurring your vision. The others tug at you, pulling you away from the crumbling edge. As you flee Moria the loss of your beloved grandfather hits you. A deep ache that seems to echo through the empty halls. Outside, under the grey, mourning sky, the Fellowship collapses in a clearing. Each member grappling with grief. Your knees give out and you sink to the ground, overwhelmed by sorrow. Legolas is at your side in an instant, his presence a silent solace. He does not speak, but his hand finds yours, squeezing gently. A clear reminder that you are not alone.

Gimli joins you. His own eyes rimmed red. “He was the greatest of us all,” he says gruffly with his voice thick with emotion. “I am honored to have walked beside him and I vow to you, we will see this quest through. For him and for all our sakes.”

The words are a balm to your spirit even as you could not reply. Words were too hard for you now. You lean into Legolas, his strength supporting you. You mourn the loss of the only thing you knew. Legolas and Gimli by your side reminding you that even in the depths of loss, the bonds of friendship and love hold firm.

You manage to whisper a weak "Thank you," before the sorrow overwhelms you once more. Tears flood your cheeks, each one a memory, a moment shared with Gandalf that you'll never experience again. Overcome, you turn into Legolas's side, seeking the comfort that only close, physical presence can provide.  Though he was not typically fond of physical touch he does not hesitate to comfort you. He wraps his arms around you, his embrace firm and unwavering. In this moment your need transcends his usual reservations, and he holds you close. A silent sentinel in your hour of vulnerability.

His hands are steady on your back, one arm around your shoulders, the other at your waist, grounding you as your grief spills forth unchecked. Legolas's heart aches for your loss and though he may not express his emotions openly his actions speak a clear language of care and adoration. As you cry into his side, Legolas rests his chin atop your head. His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon where the last light of day gives way to twilight. He feels the weight of your sorrow as if it were his own, yet he knows he must stand strong for you.

Legolas knows that the road ahead will be fraught with further trials but for now, he offers you all that he can—protection, comfort, and an unspoken promise that no matter what lies ahead, you will not face it alone. In the stillness that wraps around you and Legolas there's a respectful pause from the rest of the Fellowship. They were giving you a moment to collect yourself under the cloak of Legolas's support. Aragorn, ever attentive to the needs of his comrades, notices the depth of your grief and the comfort Legolas provides. He understands the significance of this moment, the necessity of mourning and the importance of support in such times.

Standing a short distance away Aragorn speaks quietly with the hobbits making sure everyone is ready to continue but delaying their departure ever so slightly for your sake. His leadership is subtle. His decisions shaped by a deep understanding of his people's emotional and physical stamina.

After a brief moment, Aragorn looks over, his eyes meeting Legolas’s over your bowed head. There’s a silent communication between them. A leader’s acknowledgement and a friend’s gratitude for the support given to one of their own. Aragorn’s face softens, his respect for whatever was forming between you two clear in his gentle nod.

With a deep breath, signaling both readiness and respect, Aragorn approaches. His voice is soft yet carries a necessary urgency as he speaks. His words meant to soothe but also to remind of the path ahead. “We must move on for night will not wait for us and neither will our enemies,” he spoke with his tone conveying both compassion and resolve. “Take the time you need but remember we must not linger long.”

Legolas gently helps you stand straighter his arms still offering support. As you wipe away the last of your tears, strengthened by the comfort you’ve received, you nod in understanding. Legolas gives you a reassuring look. His eyes promising continued support and then he gently releases you. He was ready to stand by your side as you all prepare to resume the journey. With a final glance at Gandalf’s last stand you and the Fellowship gather your gear and set off once more into the fading light. The memory of Gandalf a guiding light that pushes you forward through the darkness.

Emerging into the sunlight of the world again does little to lift the sorrow of the Fellowship which soon deepens with Boromir’s tragic fall at Amon Hen. His valiant defense of Merry and Pippin against the Uruk-hai, though ultimately costing him his life, marked him forever a hero in the annals of your journey. The loss of such a stalwart companion leaves a void in your heart and within the group, casting a pall over your spirits.

Driven by a fierce determination to honor Boromir’s sacrifice, you, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli give chase across the plains of Rohan to rescue Merry and Pippin from their captors. The pursuit is grueling. Pushing each of you to your very limits. The landscape of Rohan is vast and relentless, but the tracks are clear, guiding you unerringly toward the thick fringes of Fangorn Forest. The hope of rescuing the hobbits fuels your weary bodies onward even as your hearts ache with the memory of Gandalf's fall and Boromir’s courageous end.

As you follow the trail into the shadowy depths of Fangorn a sense of ancient watchfulness grows. The forest feels alive, old beyond reckoning, and filled with secrets. It is here among the whispering trees that the unexpected happens. A figure steps out from the shadows garbed in white, his presence bright against the dark underbrush. The shock of seeing what you believe might be Saruman stops you in your tracks. But as the figure approaches the energy changes—the air around him shimmers with a familiar warmth and power. Not the cold malice of Saruman.

"Gandalf?" Legolas breathes. A note of awe mingling with disbelief.

You squint, hardly daring to believe it to be true. As he draws closer, clarity dawns, and recognition floods your senses. Overcome with emotion you shout, "Grandfather!" and sprint toward him. Your heart swelling with joy and relief.

Gandalf opens his arms wide, and you crash into his embrace. The impact strong yet comforting. "My dear child," he murmurs. His voice warm and welcoming as he wraps his arms around you. His cloak envelops you with a familiar scent of pipe-weed and the road clinging to the fabric grounding you in the reality of his return.

"Yes, it is I," Gandalf responds gently, now looking down at you with sparkling eyes, "but as Gandalf the White. I come back to you at the turn of the tide. Stronger and renewed. Just as our hope must now be."

The grief at Boromir’s death and the shock of Gandalf's return blend into a complex tapestry of emotions. The initial shock gives way to a festive air as relief and joy wash over Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. They join in, their earlier despair replaced by laughter and words of amazement, forming a tight circle around you and Gandalf.

As Gandalf explains his battle with the Balrog and his subsequent rebirth his words filling the gaps in your understanding and rekindling hope in your hearts. His return not only signifies a miraculous second chance but also invigorates the Fellowship with renewed purpose and determination. With Gandalf's guidance now as Gandalf the White you all feel a renewed sense of purpose. The path forward is still fraught with danger but with Gandalf returned, and in memory of Boromir’s bravery, you are reminded that even in the darkest times there can be resurrection and hope. Together you prepare to resume the quest, stronger and more determined than ever.

"Your guidance has been sorely missed, Gandalf," Aragorn says. His voice steady but thick with emotion as he joins you. He captures the mood of the moment, channeling the Fellowship’s relief into focus. "What should we do? Frodo and Sam are gone to Mordor. Merry and Pippin are captives of the enemy." Gandalf releases you from the embrace but keeps one hand on your shoulder, grounding, and comforting. He surveys the small group with a decisive gaze and the air around you seems to thrum with renewed energy and urgency.

"We will split our efforts," he declares. "Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and you," he nods at you, "will pursue the orcs who took Merry and Pippin. Every second counts and your skills will be crucial in navigating this perilous chase."

You try and protest, but he shakes his head continuing along. "Meanwhile, I shall seek aid from the Ents of Fangorn," Gandalf continues, turning to look at the dense woods behind him. "Their strength will be necessary in the wars to come. We must rally all allies for the shadow from the East grows ever bolder."

As plans are made Legolas stands close by your side, his presence a silent vow of protection and partnership. You feel his hand briefly squeeze yours. A gesture of support that sends a surge of warmth through your heart that he had done so many times before.

"You have grown much, under shadow and trial," Gandalf remarks. Looking at you with a blend of pride and affection With the reunion drawing to a close and the path forward set you all prepare to leave. Gandalf’s return has not only brought back a beloved mentor and friend but has reignited the flame of hope within your heart. Together you feel ready to face the challenges that await knowing that the bonds of friendship and duty will guide you through the darkest of times.

As you traverse the expansive lands towards Rohan the camaraderie within the group deepens, each member adjusting to the rhythms of travel and the complexities of intertwined destinies. Amidst these dynamics your relationship with Legolas finds new ground. The elven prince, always serene and composed, begins to show a more attentive and tender side in his interactions with you. His glances linger longer and his conversations, once filled with tales of ancient elven lore, now often drift towards thoughts and dreams of the future, your future.

It’s during one of the long nights while camped under the vast, starlit sky near the borders of Fangorn Forest, that Gimli noticed the growing tension between you and Legolas. He decided to give you both some space. With a knowing wink and a gruff voice Gimli volunteers for the first watch, his tone unusually gentle. "I reckon the night is best shared with stars and heartfelt words, not an old dwarf's snoring."

Grateful, you share a smile with Legolas as Gimli settles a little distance away, his back to you, affording you a semblance of privacy. Legolas turns to you with his blue eyes reflecting the starlight, and for a moment he simply looks at you as if contemplating a thought long held in silence. "I have seen many wonders in my long life," he starts, his voice soft and mesmerizing under the night sky. "But none compared to the courage and kindness I've seen in you. In these trying times you have become a light guiding me."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you feel a warmth spread through you. "And you, Legolas, have been my solace. In you I find peace amidst turmoil. A joy that even the darkest shadows cannot diminish." He smiles. His gaze intensifying with affection and something more, something unspoken yet palpable between you. Then, in a move that surprises you both for its boldness and its intimacy, Legolas shifts closer and gently pulls you into his side. It's a daring gesture for an elf, particularly one as reserved as Legolas. But it feels right as if many paths had converged to bring this moment into being.

The warmth of his body against yours, the protective embrace of his arm—these are things you never expected to find so far from home. "It seems we have found comfort in one another's presence," he says softly. "Would that we might find a way to keep this light alive… no matter what lies ahead?"

"I would like that very much," you whisper as you leaned into the strength of his embrace.

The two of you sit under the blanket of night talking softly of dreams for a peaceful future and the immediate plans for the days to come. The reality of the quest remains but for now, under the stars, you both allow yourselves the luxury of imagining a life beyond the war. Both of you bound by a newfound affection that promises to grow with each passing day.

At Helm's Deep the air is thick with the tension of impending battle. The great fortress, built into the deep folds of the mountain, stands as the last bastion of hope against the relentless march of Saruman's forces. As the sky darkens and the torches flicker against the night you stand on the ramparts beside Legolas watching the sea of enemies gathering in the distance.

Legolas turns to you, his expression clouded with concern. “You should not be here,” he says softly. His voice barely above the howl of the wind. “This battle... it is not like the ones before. I fear—”

“I know,” you interrupt, understanding his fear but meeting his gaze with a resolve that mirrors the steel of the swords of your comrades below. “I know what this battle could mean for all of us. But I must stand with you, with all of you. There is no other place for me now, Legolas.”

Seeing the determination in your eyes, Legolas's expression softens and he pulls you gently against his side. It was a bold move for him, especially in such a public setting. “Then we will face it together,” he says squeezing your hand tightly as a silent promise passes between you.

The night deepens and the enemy’s drums beat a terrifying rhythm that seems to match the racing of your heart. Legolas pulls you closer. His eyes searching yours in the dim light. “No matter what happens tonight, know this,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the chaos swelling around you. “I love you. I have loved you amidst the shadows of our journey, and I will love you beyond the reaches of time.”

Your breath catches at his words. The simplicity and depth of his confession anchoring you amidst your fears. “And I love you,” you repl. Your voice strong even though you felt so weak. “Whatever may come, whatever we face… we face it together.”

As the battle commences the air fills with the clash of steel and the cries of warriors. You fight back-to-back, Legolas’s arrows finding their marks with deadly precision while you fend off attackers with sword and spell.

Gimli joins two of you, his axe a blur as he protects your flank. “Ha! I’d like to see them try to break this line!” he bellows. His voice a rumble of thunder over the din of battle.

The hours stretch. Each moment a lifetime but you fight with a clarity borne of love and the will to protect not just middle earth but the futures you hope to share. Legolas’s presence is a constant reassurance. His quick glances amidst the fray a reminder of everything worth fighting for.

As dawn breaks the tide of battle shifts. With Gandalf’s timely arrival and the charge of the Rohirrim, a new hope is rekindled. The enemy falters and breaks. Exhausted but alive, you, Legolas, and Gimli regroup, your bodies weary but spirits lifted by the victory, however costly it may have been.

Standing amidst the ruins of the battle you all share a look of relief and unspoken understanding. The war is far from over, but the strength of your bonds, the depth of your love, and the courage of your friends give you the fortitude to press on, to fight another day. With Legolas watch the sunrise, the light washing over Helm’s Deep painting the world in hues of gold and red. A daily rebirth, a reminder that after darkness there always comes a new dawn.

After the long shadow of war finally lifts with the destruction of the One Ring the world begins to breathe again. Minas Tirith stands gleaming under the bright sun, its banners waving in a joyous breeze. The streets are filled with music and laughter as people from all corners of middle earth gather to celebrate the victory. The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers brought forth by a spring that signifies not just the changing of seasons but the dawn of a new era.

You, Legolas, and Gimli stand on a balcony overlooking the jubilant city with a cup of fine wine in hand. The Fellowship has been honored by kings and lords, sung by minstrels, and cheered by crowds. But in this moment, the three of you share a quiet moment that speaks of deeper bonds forged in the fires of your shared trials.

Legolas looks out over the city, his eyes reflecting the green of the fields below. “The world is changed,” he says thoughtfully. “I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air. The darkness that once threatened to swallow us whole is now but a shadow of the past.”

Gimli nods. His eyes twinkling under his bushy brows. “Aye, and it���s time for more pleasant journeys,” he chuckles. “I promised you both a tour of the Glittering Caves, did I not? And I intend to keep that promise. You’ll find no finer sight beneath the mountains, mark my words!”

“And I,” Legolas adds turning to you with a gentle smile, “would have you both come to Mirkwood. The forests have suffered in the darkness. But they recover, much like us. There are places of such beauty and tranquility that they deserve to be witnessed with friends.”

You sip your wine, letting the rich flavors linger on your tongue as you consider the future. “And what of you?” Gimli asks, looking at you with an expectant raise of his eyebrow.

“I think,” you say slowly, smiling at the possibilities that stretch before you, “that I would like to see more of this world that we have fought so hard to save. From the forests of Mirkwood to the caves of the mountains and perhaps even beyond. There’s so much to explore, so much to learn.”

“And so much to rebuild,” Legolas adds. “Wherever we go we carry with us the legacy of those who fought beside us. Those who fell, and those who lived to see this day. Gandalf’s wisdom, Aragorn’s courage, and even Frodo’s quiet determination—they remain with us, guiding us forward.”

Gimli raises his cup, and you and Legolas do the same. “To the future,” Gimli declares heartily.

“To peace,” Legolas adds, his voice warm.

“To friendship,” you conclude. The three of you clink your cups together, the sound crisp and clear.

As the celebration continues below you lean against the stone railing admiring the city sprawling at your feet. Around you the laughter and music rise to the starlit sky, and you feel a profound sense of contentment. The road ahead is uncharted, but you face it not as a lone wanderer but as part of a fellowship that has endured the darkest of times to see the brightest of days.

With Legolas and Gimli by your side you know that whatever adventures lie ahead, they will be filled with joy, discovery, and the unbreakable bonds of friendship. This is not the end of your story but the beginning of a new chapter, one that you will write together.

As the celebrations in Minas Tirith begin to quiet down into a gentle hum of merriment and the evening deepens, Gimli, with a knowing grin and a subtle nod towards Legolas excuses himself to “inspect the integrity of the ale supply,” leaving you two alone on the quieter side of the terrace that overlooks the city’s sprawling, illuminated gardens.

Legolas watches Gimli depart and then turns to you with a serene expression. His eyes reflecting the myriad lights of the city. He reaches into the folds of his tunic and pulls out a small, exquisitely carved wooden box. “I have something for you,” he says. His voice low and filled with a tender emotion that sends a thrill through your heart.

You watch, curious and expectant, as he opens the box to reveal a pendant. It’s a delicate piece, shaped like a leaf but crafted with such intricacy that each vein in the leaf is visible. It shimmered with a light that seems to emanate from within the silver itself.

“This is a leaf from the Mallorn trees of Lothlórien,” Legolas explains as he carefully lifts the pendant from the box. “Galadriel herself gave this to me before we departed and though I cherish it... I believe it was always meant for you.”

He steps closer. His presence so familiar and yet so heart-stirringly profound at this intimate moment. “In the elven tradition,” he continues, his eyes locked onto yours, “to give such a gift is to choose a companion. To offer a token of one’s heart and soul. I give this to you not out of obligation but from a free and willing heart. I choose you and it’s you I wish to be with through all the ages of this world.”

He pauses while holding the pendant up between you. His eyes searching yours for an answer, a confirmation of your feelings. You nod gently, overwhelmed by the emotion in his gaze and the significance of his gift.

Legolas smiles, a soft, joyous curve of his lips, and delicately clasps the pendant around your neck. His fingers brush lightly against your skin as he secures the clasp sending shivers down your spine. The metal feels warm as if charged with his affection and presence.

“I cannot promise that the road ahead will be free from hardship,” Legolas says softly while drawing you close so that your foreheads touch lightly, “but I can promise that you will never walk it alone. Where you go I will follow. And where I go I hope you will be by my side.”

“Legolas,” you whisper. Your voice thick with emotion. “There is no one else I would rather have by my side. No one else I would want to share my path with. I choose you, too, today, and always.”

Without hesitation Legolas leans in to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s gentle at first. A tender meeting that speaks of mutual respect and deep affection. But as you respond the kiss deepens, becoming a profound expression of your shared love and commitment.

The world around you—the city of Minas Tirith, the sounds of celebration—fades into a blissful quiet. In this moment wrapped in Legolas’s embrace, you realize that while the war might have brought you together it is love that will lead you into your future. Beneath the stars and above the glowing city you share a promise of a thousand sunrises to come. Each one a new day to explore and cherish the world together.

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