Day 3 “I’m Not A Villain In Your Story. In Theirs, Yeah. But Not In Yours.”

OML I would binge this fic PLEASE

Y'all I just realized that Meyer Wolfsheim from The Great Gatsby (aka Gatsby's mentor) was based fully on Arnold Rothstein. The novel was set in Spring of 1922, just 2 years after the first season of Boardwalk Empire. Which means that it would be completely plausible to write a crossover fic where Jay Gatsby and Jimmy Darmody met and worked together in bootlegging a few years before Daisy re-entered Gatsby's life.

It’s awesome babes! Your writing is fabulous as usual!

Pericardium

prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting - "I love you. That's why I have to leave." "Well, I love you too and that's why you have to stay."

Thranduil brainrot is GETTING ME its GETTING ME

masterlist

~~~

This was getting unbearable, I thought to myself. Climbing the stairs leading to the gardens was not what I was referring to, though they were rather tiring.

The unbearable part was having to live like my heart wasn't beating.

Let me explain.

I moved into Mirkwood years ago, under the request of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Assumedly, he'd thought that my experience with growing plants might be helpful in a place actively combating giant spiders.

He was right, as he normally is, but not for the reason he thought.

Instead, I'd found myself the right-hand of the Elven King himself. For no apparent reason at all - no background in diplomacy or in royal affairs helped rationalize just how I got here.

But that is not why you're here, is it?

Over the years by the King's side, I'd grown close to him. We shared hopes and heartbreaks, dreams and despairs. It felt healing, I suppose.

That closeness breached professionalism at times. It scared me.

Once that line was breached, there was no going back.

I had not even earned my position here. I was not a native to Mirkwood. How in Middle-Earth would Mirkwood's elves ever agree to such a union?

They would not, I decided. It made what I was about to do much easier.

I could not stop my heart from beating for long. I had to leave, quickly, before the traitorous thing choose to turn against logic yet again.

Surely Lord Elrond would welcome me back to Rivendell if I explained my situation, right?

The thought of leaving Mirkwood, the place I call home, as well as the king who rules it, forces my heart to skip a beat.

I must learn to live without a heart, I think. If only to curb the pain to come.

Rushing to the stables, I see my horse at the far end. My heart begins contracting in my chest. That is my cue to hurry the hell up, as the humans say.

One step after another. All to take me further away from here.

I clutch at my horse's hair. She dips her head down in recognition, letting me freely hug her close. My closest companion, now that I'm leaving.

It feels a little bit like burning at stake. Not that I know how that feels, but it's the most similar thing, I suppose.

My heart is being cooked in the flames of love.

I close my eyes to center myself for a minute. And like a good pie, I savor the moment.

Sighing, I open my eyes. "Let's get going, starlight."

"Go where?"

The sudden intrusion is startling, and I turn to look behind me.

Thranduil.

He looks stunning as always, like a star that's descended from the heavens. His eyes, the color of a clear sky, zeroed in on me.

"Well?" He tilts his head slightly. Every day I forget how speechless he makes me.

"I... I was just planning on taking a short ride around, my King."

To this he lifts an eyebrow. And smirks, damn him.

"Oh? May I accompany you, then?" He knows I can't deny him.

Not wanting him to know my true intent, I nod at him, "Certainly."

The slight smile gracing his face made everything else disappear. For a single moment, all I could see was him.

It took a minute to prepare, then we were off. Into the beautiful forest we call home.

~~~

I was busy admiring the tall grey-brown bark of the trees we were riding past when he broke the silence.

"Do you like it here?"

The question surprises me. Both in its suddenness and in its intimacy.

"Of course, my King. Why do you ask?"

I can feel his eyes on me, studying the map of my face. I can feel the blood pumping in my veins.

"If that's so, why does Elanor speak of your mentioning departure from Mirkwood?"

To this I advert my gaze. Caught.

He continues. "You seem to be more and more distant than usual. I can't help but wonder why."'

"Because I'm in love with you" My heart screams. I stay silent.

Thranduil notices this, and both his eyes and voice turn sharp.

"What are you hiding?"

I sigh softly. "My king, I must return to Rivendell."

He studies me, not believing a word.

"And I must leave soon. I did not want to cause any more burden to your shoulders, my King. That is why I did not tell you."

"You were never a burden. And did you not think of the panic your disappearance would cause in the palace? The panic you would cause me? You cannot just leave like that. Not without a proper reason." He gets more and more animated as he speaks, and I feel my temper rising to match his.

"I need to leave-"

"No you don't!"

"And go to Rivendell and-"

"Not without a reason! You can't just leave! I forbid it!"

His voice echoes in the forest. Mine follows suit.

"I love you! That's why I have to go!"

Ruined. That's what this friendship is.

He, for once, falls silent. His hair shifts as he turns to look at me, truly look at me. His eyes, once cold, are now softer.

"I love you too. And that's why you have to stay."

...What.

~~~

Brainrot is real because its happening to me

I just got kicked out of my house and I’m fucking terrified. I’ve been homeless before, I never want to do that again. I have animals. I want money to at the very least, lay on someone’s couch or stay in a motel. If you can give, please consider it.  Otherwise, reblogs are very much appreciated.

Ppal: LINK

Csh@pp: $WednesdayFields

This is a new post. Original: HERE

Agreed

Saving this

Villain prompts:

Like it or not, you need me.

I don’t care how many of you I will have to kill. You won’t defeat me.

Join me.

Leave before I change my mind.

I’m running out of patience, dear.

Tell them what you told me.

I’m not a villain in your story. In theirs, yeah. But not in yours.

Do you know what really happened this day?

They took my family from me.

They didn’t pity me, so why would I pity them?

I’ll destroy everything you hold dear.

I don’t know how to forgive anymore.

Do you know my side of the story?

I’m the only chance you’ve got.

Don't panic. It won't hurt.

I don't need you anymore.

You think you've seen the worst of me? You've seen nothing yet.

You'll never see it coming.

I can't just let this go.

You're gonna regret standing against me.

I could have given you everything.

You don't get it. You don't know what they did to me.

It won't hurt much longer.

You have no idea what it takes to be like me. That's why you'll never win with me. Cause you don't have what it takes to do what you would have to do to defeat me.

"You're better than that." "Am I?"

I won't sacrifice myself.

You never had what it took.

I won't let you take anything from me.

Don't tell me about your moral code. You know nothing about what is right or wrong.

You can assume the worst about me. But don't you ever, never assume I'm naive.

The only one who is gonna die here is you, not me.

I won't let my emotions cloud my judgment.

You know I can't let you live when you know too much.

You could betray me. That's why I'll betray you first.

I never loved you.

I won't let you stand in my way of that.

You're gonna die here. There's no changing that.

Guards. Take her to her room. She'll wait for me there.

I can't promise you I won't kill you. But I can promise you I can make it hurtless.

You're begging me to take your life?

I've sacrificed enough.

You sent a child to fight ME?

If you give up now, you'll still have a chance of having a normal life you always dreamt of. Just turn back and leave. You don't have to make this sacrifice. It won't stop me either way. Just give up and we'll forget about all this nonsense.

If you want it so much, come and get it.

Bring them to their knees, darlin'.

You're a hero. You don't owe them anything.

You really think a child can defeat me?

I was always meant to be the bad guy. It's time for you to accept that.

I will bring them to their knees.

"You're so hard to please..." "I know."

You will bring them to your knees.

"Get on with it. Kill me." "Oh, no. I'm gonna take my time."

Alright so I can’t leave @yns-world to keep carrying the terror x readers so here I am! While I write this I would also like to mention that it’s important to separate the real people from the characters in the show. When I write I am writing for the show not the real people. Without a further ado-

How the Terror characters would show their affection

Francis Crozier, James Fitzjames, Harry Goodsir, Thomas Blanky, Thomas Jopson

Francis Crozier

- Francis has been rejected and hurt so many times, sometimes he wonders if you are a figment of his imagination.

- But when he feels your hand grasping his when parties get to be too much or your head resting on his shoulder on the carriage ride home he remembers you did choose him.

- Francis in turn showers you with affectionate words and shows you his love through acts of service.

- When alone he serenades you with Irish poetry and showers you with compliments

- You could be doing something as simple as reading in front of the fireplace and his voice will break the quiet with something like “Sometimes I wonder if you are a siren of the land, calling me back to home when I need it most.”

- To him you are his home, in fact you have become his everything, he makes sure you know this by writing letters as frequently as possible when out sailing.

- He says how he misses your reassuring smile and the long nights you both had simply conversing on new topics while basking in the light of the fireplace.

- Now when this captain is home he practically brushes away the title completely. He is your husband at home nothing more.

- So there are times you come home from long ‘polite’ tea parties that were ‘mandatory’ to attend. Finally you can drop the facade and simply relax, except you have to make dinner and do the dishes-

- But as you walk into the kitchen Francis can be seen chopping onions in a few-sizes-too-small apron.

- The sight was enough to make you burst into tears, although you heavily appreciated it nonetheless.

- Knowing this Francis simply smiles, one of those smiles where you can see all his teeth and says “I was hopin’ to have it done before you got home.”

- As his words settle over you, you smile and offer to help.

- He shoos you away and says if you truly wanted to help you would pull up a chair and give him something to listen to (by this he means your voice)

- These events happen interchangeably with Francis sometimes coming home from another meeting where he was scorned and laughed at.

- Yet when he comes home there you are a clean house and cooking dinner.

- The Irishman couldn’t be any happier nor would he want anything else in life, title and legacy be damned.

James Fitzjames

- James Fitzjames is a man imprisoned by every word that falls from his mouth and every move he makes.

- His words have always just been a way to appeal to his superiors and to craft a mask to hide his heritage.

- When you came along and that mask finally slipped you became his lifeline and pillar.

- Words never meant much to him, they were cheap and unreliable.

- So he shows his love through physical affection and gifts.

- James likes physical affection because unlike words it solidifies that you are there and do care.

- While he has to reserve more intimate touching at home because of what is seen as ‘proper’ for high society he doesn’t mind it too much.

- At parties or generally in public James brushes against you as much as possible. Sometimes even keeping his hand barely touching the small of your back. Because good lord the scandal he would cause if he held your hand the whole night.

- As soon as the two of you are alone (such as the carriage ride home) his fingers are entwined with yours and he is pressed up against you.

- Please rest your head against his shoulder that man would physically melt.

- When you two have free time at home he will lounge against you and surprise you with kisses at random.

- After a long day he just wants you to hold him, hold your hand to his cheek and rest your forehead against his. All day he heard about new taxing expeditions and about how great it must be to be in his position. However he’s equally as willing to just hold you instead, huddled into a too-small couch.

- You are his peace of mind and his anchor just be there, that is all he needs.

- Speaking of expeditions, when this man is away from you he becomes lost.

- He’ll write to you when he can, and I know I said words aren’t his go to when it comes to you, but what choice does he have while at sea?

- You get letters from James in which he laments about the “absence of your warmth hardens his heart”.

- Other examples include him writing “my title is the albatross around my neck for my only title should be as your husband.”

- When he does get back from sea expect him to be really clingy. Like “oh you’re going to the markets? I’ll escort you there.” Or even just being more affectionate in public, which gets both of you some side eyes and disturbed looks. Despite the two of you simply just leaning into each other.

- He is also big on gifts, anything that he can afford that you so much as look at longer than normal he will get for you.

- ”Love close your eyes” and when you do you feel something cold but soft around your neck. When you open your eyes pearls lay against your chest. The very same pearls you were eyeing last weekend.

- His smile when you gasp and say something along the lines of “James you shouldn’t have!” Is unmatched. He definitely puffs out his chest in pride for being able to get you something so nice.

- To be honest the biggest reason he spoils you with gifts is so that you have something of him when he is away on expeditions.

- Which he also loves to bring you back things from different trips.

- When he stationed at tropical islands he brought back a few shells he thought were pretty

- Those shells are displayed on your dresser, a reminder that no matter how far he goes he still thinks of you.

Harry Goodsir

- The good ‘doctor’ Goodsir is always worried about doing too much or seeming too clingy, but he also wants you to know he does care. He just doesn’t wanna be too much.

- Because of this he shows his affection through Quality time and Acts of Service.

- Don’t get me wrong, he still gives you gifts here and there not to mention being outwardly affectionate, but it’s few and far between.

- Lots of times quality time consists of reading a book together or even just going in depth about both of your days.

- The later option often turns into Harry going off on a tangent about his recent studies with a wide smile and a gleam in his eye.

- Until over half an hour in he realizes how long he’s been talking so he becomes bashful, repeatedly stuttering and apologizing that he didn’t mean to make the conversation all about him.

- Watch him turn vermillion when you tell him he looks cute when he rambles.

- He does love listening to you talk and infodump as well. Especially if it’s an interest you both have in common.

- While you do talk he looks at you as if you are the only thing that exists, and in those intimate moments you are. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than with you.

- When it falls to acts of service he is king and strangely always knows when you need it most?

- You could be coming home from work with an aching back dreading doing anything else, but like magic Harry already got all the food for dinner, cleaned most of the house and finished organizing the kitchen.

- Those days he appears as an angel and you can’t help but hug the man and rest your head against his chest. While he may be surprised at first he slowly melts into the hug. Yeah this is nice, he doesn’t mind it.

- Both of you see the other as some sort of saint and while it might not be the ‘normal’ way of showing affection it works quite well for both of you.

Thomas Blanky

- This man is a wildcard, he enjoys showering you with whatever affection he can give in the moment. However, his favorites are quality time and verbal affection.

- Yeah he could buy you gifts and be at the pub all the time or he could spend his evenings will you playing chess in the dying light while discussing your days. He clearly goes with the later.

- The most prominent reason as to why quality time is so important to him is because he’s at sea for years at a time, so he feels it would be foolish to waste what little time he has with you.

- Reading, simple conversation, games, he’ll do it all as long as he gets to spend time with you.

- One of his favorite pastimes to do is read Shakespeare (as much as Francis makes fun of him for it)

- He’ll simply read aloud with you either sitting next to him or a chair across from him.

- Thomas claims he doesn’t have a favorite play, but you know it’s hamlet because of the slight different tone he uses when reading it compared to all the other plays.

- The Icemaster loves verbal affection because he can reach you from anywhere so long as there is a postal office.

- While he’s at sea expect long letters detailing his journey and how beautiful everything is, but that beauty pales in comparison to you.

- ”Her Oceans majesty is great, her arms are open, and her body sparkles yet I cannot help but wish to swim back to you, for you outshine her tenfold.”

- However he always finds a way to playfully jab at you in his letters, wether it be over the spilled ink in your last letter or mispelled words.

- Sometimes when he goes to the arctic he’ll write multiple letters before the last stop and then have those letters mailed at different dates.That way you almost always have a letter to open.

- Although he doesn’t know it, you save each and every letter to look back at when you feel lonely.

- When he’s gone and the loneliness gets to you more than usual you sleep with a few, clutching them to your chest with hopes that you’ll receive another letter from him soon and not the admiralty.

- When Thomas does return he answers your worries with a laugh and “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easy right?”

Thomas Jopson

- Thomas Jopson is ever the observant man and he adores you.

- So he tries to make your life as easy as possible by using his time as a steward to help.

- In this way he shows affection through acts of service and and physical affection.

- The two types of affection are quite different, and while some may believe he doesn’t show physical affection at all they just haven’t seen him behind closed doors.

- As soon as the two of you aren’t in public he clings to you like a sloth.

- While it did take a while for him to show physical affection in your relationship, you’re too deep now and can’t escape.

- Lots of times while he’s cleaning and you are taking care of things like cooking or bills he’ll do drive by kisses, although you have no issue returning them.

- The both of you almost make it a game to see how many kisses the other can sneak into their routine.

- Damn his sparkling eyes as he looks at you with so much adoration and love.

- “Thomas! You’ll ruin my makeup!” You proclaim while trying to hold him back and continue cooking.

- The love struck Stewart with obvious lipstick stains all over his face: “Why Ma’am I would never consider doing such a thing!”

- He definitely ‘let’s you win’ just so he gets more kisses.

- One time before he left for an expedition you snuck a kiss onto his cheek. He forgot about the lipstick you were wearing so he was very confused as to why he kept getting strange looks on the first day on the ship, or why some men laughed and whistled his way? When he realizes why he doesn’t wipe the lipstick or the smile off his face for the rest of the day. (That is until the captain orders him to and he mopes like a kicked puppy.)

- When it comes to acts of service this man works like an ant, it’s almost like he can’t separate his job and his time at home. So sometimes you have to just hold him for a while to get him to slow down.

- ”Thomas you’re working too hard again.”

- ”Only for you Love.”

- This response earns him a playful smack on the arm and a bear hug that he’s not released from until he agrees to sit down with you.

- You truly appreciate him cleaning and doing chores but don’t want him to wear himself out :(

- On that note once when you practically demanded him to rest he accidentally responded with “In a minute Captain.” He turned bright red and once you got over the initial shock you respond “As your Captain I order you to take a break now.”

- Cue Thomas sitting down on the nearest chair immediately.

- You ended up pestering him for the rest of the night and occasionally when he’s working you’ll say something with a shit eating grin like “I think the Captain wants you to take a break.”

- Hold this man close because it doesn’t get much better than this.

_________

Y/n: You know sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky-

Blanky*drinking out of a peg leg*: I think the question you should be asking is how do you put up with me love, but ok.

_________

Fitzjames*lamenting about ho much he misses his partner*

Crozier: For gods sake Fitzjames! Just go back to the damn sniper story already!

Fitzjames: You’re just sour because I’m not alone and you are-

*Cue a punch thrown over the table*

_________

Y/n: Make sure you tell that Captain of yours that you need to make it back in one piece.

Jopson*with a grin aimed at you*: Captain I need to make it back in one piece or else Mrs/Mr/Ms. Jopson might come after you.

Y/n*blushing furiously*: I- OK

_________

Y/n: I went in for a kiss- EUGH- and now he won’t let go and I’m stuck.

Jopson: Mine

_________

Y/n: He asked for no pickles!

Goodsir: It’s okay really-

—————

Sidenote: Some of these will make more sense if you read the attached headcanons.

Amazing work as usual!

Haunting Me

[Legolas/F!Reader]

A.N: I have been struggling to write (like usual), so I figured I would whip out a no pressure Legolas fic. ANYWAYS, I strangely loved writing this!!! Thanks for the request XOXO

Request: @goose-gremlin — “Could you maybe do a Legolas x Reader on their period?”

Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader is a member of Greenwood's Guard and is struggling with menstrual/period pain. Legolas takes care of her.

Disclaimer: I don't know elvish. I use the gracious elvish dictionary. Sue me lol

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: blood, menstruation/period, pain, PMS, slight nakedness (not anything spicy you filthy fools), fluff, sweet precious elf boy

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

(Y/N)’s nose twitched, the pungent, musty scent of the incoming vile beasts invaded the fresh earthy tones of the Greenwood forest. Her keen ears picked up on subtle scurrying, the sound carried by the drift of the soft wind. Her jaw clenched and her fingers adjusted the grasp of her sword as she felt the aura of the trees shift—a surge of adrenaline fueling her anxiety, worsening the pain in her abdomen. Briefly locking eyes with the other elves in her sector, spread among the trees alert and ready, she knew their moment of action was imminent.

(Y/N) summoned the little energy she had through a deep inhale, praying to the Valar that these spiders wouldn't be in such a frenzied state. Because, if so, fuck that. For at the present moment in time, she really didn't have the capacity to deal with that absolute, motherfucking horseshit.

Because, truly, getting killed due to slowness from fatigue and cramps from one’s bloodmoon cycle would be rather unfortunate and deeply regrettable. However, facing expulsion from the guard and losing her reputation as one of the hand-picked defenders of the royal line because of it would be even worse.

(Y/N)’s gaze narrowed as Prince Legolas, leader of the Greenwood Guard, raised a closed fist.

Nêl (Three).

Tâd (Two).

Mîn (One).

He opened his palm, signaling the command: Kill them. Kill them all.

With a firm thud, (Y/N)'s boots landed on the soft soil as she sprung from the trees. She was quick with her blade, hunting the spiders as if they were meaningless prey. Her weapon was an extension of her form. Every movement was fluid and graceful, a testament to her mastery of combat. Despite her pain, she spun and twisted with ease, severing the arachnids' limbs effortlessly.

As she fought, she made sure to keep an eye on the Prince, knowing that if anything were to happen to Legolas under her watch, the king would surely banish her. Besides, she harbored no desire for him to meet his demise. She found him rather…admirable. Nothing more than that—of course not.

As (Y/N) advanced upon one of the vile beasts, her senses tingled with warning. Abruptly, she halted in her tracks, narrowly dodging an arrow that whizzed past her stomach. Her eyes narrowed as she wiped her head to see just who fired that arrow. A scoff escaped her lips as she locked eyes with him: Rekón.

When the battle came to an end, (Y/N) strutted towards Rekón, who was wiping the edge of his blade upon his thigh.

“What the hell was that out there?!” She snapped at him.

“What is it you speak of?”

“You nearly put an arrow in me!”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, you should have been faster, Shadowfoot.”

She scoffed at Greenwood’s nickname for her. “You're lucky I am fast. I can assume you don’t want elven blood on your hands—especially my blood.

He sheathed his blade and crossed his arms. “Don’t exaggerate, (Y/N). It’s unbecoming. Besides,” he leaned in and his voice lowered, taking on a snarky tone, “I don't care if you're handpicked by the King to be the Prince’s shadow, you're a pain in the ass.”

“Really, Otuuk Fe`Saign (warg kisser)?! I could have you and your ass in the mud faster than you could say—”

The rather tense interaction was interrupted by Legolas clearing his throat beside the pair. “What is going on over here?” he demanded.

(Y/N) huffed, not taking her eyes off the man before her. “Rekón here nearly redecorated my abdomen with a fucking arrow!”

The Prince sighed. “You know we can’t always calculate every motion on the battlefield, (Y/N). I am sure Rekón meant no harm.” He paused, turning his attention to the ellon. “Rekón, in the future, mind your arrows.”

“That’s the reprimand he gets?! Are you fu—“

Legolas looked at the elleth. “Watch your language, Shadowfoot. I expect this attitude to be gone by the time we enter my father’s halls.”

With that, Legolas walked away, calling out orders to burn the spider carcasses and move out.

As he disappeared into the mess of elves, (Y/N)’s brows pulled downward in a grumpy frown. “Princeling Ass,” she murmured to herself.

Unbeknownst to her, as she turned away, Legolas' gaze followed her, seeking out her form and lingering as she walked away.

….

The sun had not yet risen when the Prince’s sector of the Greenwood Guard arrived back in the Palace. The warriors dispersed into the armory, diligently stowing their weapons and armor in their designated places. (Y/N), however, did no such thing. Instead, with a persistent scowl etched on her face, she marched through the room and passed through the arched exit of the armory—presumably heading towards her chambers. Legolas's gaze tracked her suspiciously as she departed.

As the day progressed, the members of the Prince’s sector resumed their usual routines. Because it was their first day back from patrol, they were exempt from basic guard duties and standard positions. Instead, they utilized the early hours of the morning to bathe and rejuvenate themselves before gathering in the dining hall for breakfast. The remainder of the day was theirs to unwind and compile their patrol reports—the King sought to stay informed about all occurrences and perspectives during patrols, for a darkness seemed to be spreading among his trees.

At supper, Legolas moved among the tables in the dining hall, gathering last-minute reports from the warriors in his sector. As he did so, he scanned the long wooden benches, searching for the scowling gaze that had accompanied the last couple of days of patrol; however, there was no such gaze and no such person that it belonged to. Simply put, there was no sign of (Y/N).

She had missed all three meals and had failed to submit her patrol report.

Legolas cleared his throat before he addressed the elves from whom he was collecting papers. “Have you seen Shadowfoot? I need her report,” he inquired.

They shook their heads, more interested in their food than one missing shadow.

Legolas sighed, but refrained from pressing further. If anyone knew her whereabouts, they would have mentioned it.

Therefore, he made his way to her quarters.

When he arrived, he knocked softly on the door, but was met with silence.

"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice carrying through the wooden barrier.

Still, there was no response.

After a moment’s hesitation, Legolas reached for the door knob and twisted it slowly. The wood swung open quietly under his touch, exposing the darkness of the room beyond. Moonlight filtered in through the opened window, casting shadows that danced across the floor, the curtains billowing gently in the cold night air.

Legolas carefully stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him. As he took in his surroundings further, surprise crossed his features. He didn't know what he had been expecting since he hadn't been in (Y/N)’s quarters, but it most certainly was not this.

The room was a complete mess. Clothing lay strewn about, along with various trinkets—small hand-carved boxes, beautiful natural rocks, and melted candles absent of flame. Several stacks of books were piled beside the bed, a few of them open and their pages still. Her weapons were scattered haphazardly, some resting on the floor, others on the table or atop the dresser. Legolas even noticed a few knives embedded into the wooden door—a sight that would surely displease Ada.

It was chaotic but calm in a sort of strange way. Typical for (Y/N), he supposed.

The Prince moved to walk further into the room, but was quickly halted against his will. His foot had gotten caught and, if it wasn't for his swift reflexes, he would have face-planted upon the stone flooring.

Legolas sucked in a sharp breath as he stabilized his form. Glancing down, he discovered the culprit—a crumpled tunic tangled around his boot, its fabric caught between the lacings.

He immediately sighed in dismay.

The blond-haired Prince reached down to untangle the stubborn garment. It proved to be a more challenging task than he had anticipated, requiring a few moments of quiet curses and annoyed grunts before he managed to free himself. Carefully, he folded the fabric and placed it upon a nearby chair.

Cautiously, he advanced to the large bed. At first, he could not spot the warrior within, given that the fluffy comforter and mountain of pillows were blocking his view. However, when he pulled back the blankets slightly, sure enough, she was buried deep within. The pillows were arranged around her like a protective nest and she was laying on her side. Her hair was splattered across the cushioned fabric and her expression was…one of pain. Her brows were pulled tight, her nose crinkled, and lips slightly parted.

At this, Legolas frowned, for he was now troubled deeply.

Diligently, the Prince reached out to brush some hair from her face, but just as his fingers made contact with her cheek, his action was interrupted.

(Y/N) suddenly sat up, a knife in hand. With wild eyes, she tried to slam it into his carotid artery.

He reacted quickly, Legolas intercepted her arm, preventing the blade from reaching its target. For a moment, they both froze in that tense position, the gravity of the situation sinking in as they processed what was happening.

(Y/N) was breathing quickly and she appeared very disheveled and confused. It seemed to take her a moment longer to grasp the situation fully.

"Jukkete (fuck)," she breathed out, trying to catch her breath before snapping at him. "Legolas, I almost killed you!"

The Prince still held her wrist. “(Y/N),” he began, “Are you alright?”

She huffed. "You know better than to sneak up on me like that, Princeling!" With a sharp twist, she pulled away from his grasp and settled back into the blankets. “What are you doing here?”

He raised his brows. “Princeling?” he questioned, a hint of amusement in his tone.

(Y/N) only grunted in response.

He sighed. “No one has seen you all day and—“ his sentence abruptly halted as he noticed a red stain upon the comforter. “(Y/N), you are bleeding!” He exclaimed. Without hesitation, he grasped at the blankets, in an attempt to detangle her form from them, as he continued his babbling of concern. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured on patrol?!”

“Legolas,” she interrupted, her voice firm.

“Is it from Rekón’s arrow?! I thought you said he ‘nearly’ hit you?”

“Legolas,” she tried again.

He yanked the blanket further.” Because I swear to the Valar if it was from him, I will—“

“Legolas! Stop!” She snapped, her patience wearing thin. “I’m not injured.”

His jaw clenched in frustration. “(Y/N), I have been a warrior for all my life, I know the site of blood. That is blood. You cannot lie to me. I am your sector leader, your Prince—“

“Legolas! It’s my bloodmoon cycle!” she interrupted, sitting up to glare at him once more.

An awkward silence settled into the dark room.

“You are in pain,” he stated.

“I’m fine.”

His brows raised again. “Now, why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you're a princeling ass,” she retorted.

“No. Because for the last three days of patrol, your demeanor has been notably irritable, as you are now. You've been favoring your left side, your jaw has remained tightly clenched, and your skin a shade too pale. Not to mention, you've consistently had your hand on your hip, I'm assuming in an attempt to try and alleviate discomfort, and you even vomited behind a tree on two occasions. And, here you are, Shadowfoot, in bed, sleeping the day away in dirty clothes and not caring that you lay in blood.” He paused before finalizing his evidence. “You are in pain.”

“You have been spying on me?! I am supposed to be your shadow.”

“I have been keeping an eye on you,” he clarified.

“Why?!”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Because you are a member of my sector. You are my responsibility.”

“You are my responsibility,” she corrected.

He released hot air from his nose. “I am required to keep an eye on all of my warriors, whether they were hand-picked to guard me or not.”

(Y/N) huffed, shaking her head. “Did you know Sethna took a pretty nasty hit to her leg?”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” he gruffed.

“Legolas, did you know about it or not?”

A rather long moment of silence extended into the night before the Prince reluctantly responded in a low tone. “No.”

“Then you don't watch every warrior like you watch me.”

He inhaled slowly, trying to steer the conversation away from what (Y/N) was insinuating. “Is Sethna alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine.”

Legolas nodded slowly, before returning to the main topic. “Why didn't you tell me you were in pain while on patrol?”

She rolled her eyes before muttering his name. “Legolas.”

“Why haven't you seen a healer?” he persisted.

She exhaled slowly, knowing Legolas wasn't going to let this go. “Because the healers document everything, and those records get attached to evaluations.”

“So?”

“So, I would be dismissed from the guard and relieved of my position!” she snapped.

He snorted lightly. “You would not be dismissed from the guard nor relieved of your position.”

“Others have gotten so for far less!”

Surprising her, his normally collected tone turned into a rough reply. “That doesn't mean that you would have!”

She frowned, her once loud voice now subdued. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He sent her a warning look, his eyes cautioning her against probing further.

Silence reigned for a third time that night before Legolas spoke softly. “Rest. I will draw you a bath.”

“Princeling, I do not need you to draw me a bath. I do not need a bath at all. Like I said, I am fine.”

He shook his head. “You are in pain. Let me help you.”

“Legolas–”

He cut her off. “(Y/N), do not try to argue with me on this. That is an order. Shadow or not, I am your superior and you will listen.”

With that, he stood and made his way into the bathing chambers, leaving the elleth alone with her thoughts.

She let out a slow, contemplative exhale before sinking back into the embrace of the bed once more. Lost in a haze of exhaustion, she must have drifted into a brief slumber, for it was only moments later that Legolas returned, his thumb brushing against her cheek. His voice, barely above a whisper, reached her ears. “(Y/N),” he urged softly. “Come. The water is hot. It will alleviate your pain.”

Groggily, she opened her eyes, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow.

“Come,” he repeated.

Gradually, she sat upwards, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, praying to the Valar for the pain to settle.

“If the pain is too much, I can carry you,” Legolas offered in a gentle tone.

She scoffed, her eyes opening to glare at him. “I can manage on my own.”

With that declaration, (Y/N) stood up and took a few cautious steps forward. But before she could proceed further, a sharp gasp escaped her lips as the agony surged through her body, causing her to double over.

A comforting warmth enveloped her lower back as Legolas placed a reassuring hand there. He remained silent, respecting her pace and refraining from pressing his earlier offer.

A small whimper escaped her lips, tears threatening to escape from her eyes.

Legolas’ hand began to move in soft circles. “It will pass, Shadowfoot. I am here,” he whispered.

Slowly, she resumed her movement, inching her way towards the bathroom. Upon reaching the basin's edge, she gripped onto the sides tightly. She squeezed her lids shut once more, focusing on her breath.

Standing only inches behind her, Legolas spoke softly. “(Y/N), please, will you let me assist you? I hate to see you suffer.”

She exhaled through her nose, seemingly debating his offer. After a moment of contemplation, she relented. “Fine,” she stated, “but if you breathe a word of this—”

“I will not say a thing. I swear it,” he assured.

She nodded, accepting his promise.

“Let's get you undressed and in the bath then.”

With caution, his nimble fingers found the hem of her tunic and began to lift it over her head. Ensuring her stability by placing one hand gently on her hip, he then carefully guided her trousers downward, assisting her as she stepped out of them. Shaking slightly, she lifted each foot into the tub, one at a time, as the Prince's firm hand remained securely on her waist. Slowly, she lowered herself into the water, his touch barely trailing up her back as she descended. Her eyes closed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips, settling into the soothing heat of the water.

Legolas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I will just be in the other room. Call out if you need me.”

She simply hummed in response.

The Prince swiftly left the bathing room, making his way to the door leading to the hallway. Peering out, he caught sight of a maid. He called out to her and motioned for her to approach.

“Yes, my lord?” she inquired politely.

“I need you to fetch a new set of bedding and obtain the following herbs: valerian, boswellia, and athelas,” he instructed.

She nodded in understanding.

“And please, keep it discreet. I have an injured warrior in here who wishes for the injury to remain quiet.”

The maid nodded once more before hurrying off to fulfill his requests.

Legolas returned to the room, feeling the cool breeze from the open window once more. With determined strides, he crossed the space and closed it firmly, halting the chill from entering any longer. He then took to light some of the candles, casting a warm glow within the room before moving to the empty fireplace. He quickly grabbed kindling and wood from the basket beside the silent hearth, setting to task. Before long, the flames crackled loudly among the stone, radiating a comforting warmth that dispelled the lingering chill.

It was then when the maid entered, a large basket brimming with fluffy fabric in her arms. Placing it beside the bed, she then retrieved a pouch from the top. Approaching the Prince, she bowed her head. “The herbs you asked for, my lord.”

“Thank you,” he replied, accepting them graciously.

The maid took to changing the sheets, making no mention of the blood. Legolas cleared a space upon the table in (Y/N)’s room. Placing a cast iron pot—one of which was kept in each room—over the now vibrant flames, he filled it with water from a pitcher. As the water began to boil, he used a small bowl to grind the fresh herbs into a paste with a pestle. Once sufficiently smashed, he ladled some of the boiling water over it and allowed the mixture of herbs to steep, filling the air with its earthy aroma.

The maid, having finished her task of making the bed and straightening up, bid an awkward farewell to the Prince before exiting the room.

Legolas sighed, taking a seat in the chair beside the table, his ears attuned to any sounds from (Y/N)'s direction—just in case.

Nearly 45 minutes passed before she emerged from the bathroom. She was clothed in soft trousers and a loose top that hung off her shoulder, her hand pressed lightly against her abdomen.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, breaking the quietness of the night.

She turned her head towards him. “You are still here?” Her gaze swept across the room, trailing off as she took in the sight of the lit candles, crackling fire, and fresh bedding.

Abandoning the chair, he approached her and gently put his hand upon her bicep. “How is the pain, (Y/N)?”

As if suddenly drawn from her thoughts, she registered that he was indeed beside her. “I, uh, it has lessened a bit.”

He nodded, guiding her to the bed. Pulling back the clean sheets, he motioned for her to get in. Surprisingly, she complied, settling into the comfort of the fresh lavender scent emanating from the blankets and pillows.

Legolas briefly left her side before returning with a cup of tea, mixed from the healing herbs. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he lifted the cup to her lips, encouraging her to take a sip. “Drink this. It will help.”

The steam kissed her face as she took the cup from him. As she drank, the warm liquid flowed down her throat and into her stomach, providing instant comfort. When she finished, she passed the cup back to him. “How do you know how to make such a tonic?”

The Prince placed the cup upon the side table. “My father used to care for my mother during her bloodmoon cycle, before she passed from this world. She too had excruciating pain. He taught me the right herbs to mix, the benefits of heat, and—” he paused, his hand moving to her lower back, where he began to massage lightly. “—what points to press to alleviate pain.”

She exhaled slowly, letting her eyes flutter closed.

“He had said, ‘One day, you will have a wife who too suffers such pain. This you must learn for her.’ And I listened.”

(Y/N) did not open her eyes. “I am not your wife.”

Before he could stop himself, his lips betrayed his secrets. “You could be.”

At this, she opened one eye, as if she was trying to subtly evaluate what his words meant based on his body language. Sensing the sincerity upon his expression, her other eye opened too. She put her full attention on him. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, the tips of his elvish ears reddening, though the warm glow of the fire hid his embarrassment. He turned his head away. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I—I didn't mean to be so…so forward.” He hesitated, then looked back at her, seeing her flabbergasted expression. “I–I suppose there is no hiding it now. The reason I keep such close watch over you is because my heart won't let me do otherwise. I fear, well, I fear that you are not just a shadow following my path.” He exhaled softly. “(Y/N), you haunt me in the most beautiful way.”

She shifted from the pillows, drawing closer until her face was mere inches from Legolas’. “You–you care for me?” she whispered.

His hand tenderly cupped her cheek, his thumb moving in a soft motion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

“Legolas,” she whispered. “Your father did not assign me to your sector. I was supposed to be appointed to protect him. I—I requested to be assigned to you.”

The Prince’s gaze met hers. “Why, (Y/N)?”

“Because you too have been haunting me.”

Legolas wasted no time. He pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s in a gentle kiss and she responded eagerly. She tasted of herbal tea and hope, while he tasted of honey and peace. His hands gently cradled her face, while hers found their way to the back of his neck, fingers entwining in his hair. The scent of fresh lavender surrounded her, mingling with the aroma of pine that clung to him. In their embrace, their minds intertwined, both haunted by the other's presence—in the most beautiful way.

Slowly, they parted. Legolas pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before speaking softly. "Lay down. Rest. I will watch over you."

She looked up at him. “Won't you lay with me? I am cold.”

He snorted, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips like the stem of a flower being plucked from a spring meadow. “You only want me to alleviate your pain, don't you?”

She grinned back at him. “Perhaps, Princeling. Though, I did not lie, I am cold.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Legolas kicked off his boots and drew back the covers. He allowed his body to melt against (Y/N)’s, providing warmth as he gently began to massage away her tension.

A content sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she snuggled further into him, eagerly stealing his warmth and accepting the pain relief he offered.

“Princeling,” she murmured, “You better not breathe a word of this either.”

He chuckled lightly, “I will not say a thing, Shadowfoot. I swear it.”

…

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Everything But Spice Tag: @goldfearless @Brethil13 @insert-random-blog @cauliflowertree @heranintomyknife23times @mxmia @unethicallypleistocene @amessofmultifandom @caffinated-and-sleepy

Legolas Tag: in the comments

October 19, 2024 through October 31, 2024 - Let's Get Spooky, ROTG Version.

Header art by @purblzart

RISE OF THE GUARDIANS HALLOWEEN 2024: Event Guidelines

13 days, 13 prompts.

Visual, aural, textile, and literary works are allowed - fanart, fanfiction, gifs, edits/manips, cosplay, fanmixes, crafts, or ask-and-answer.  

Unlike other fandom events, reblogs of previously created material are welcome IF THEY FIT THE PROMPT, but creation of original material is preferred.

Inspiration can be drawn from the GUARDIANS OF CHILDHOOD bookverse, the RISE OF THE GUARDIANS movieverse, and any and all associated AUs.

OCs are welcome and encouraged to interact with RotG/GoC characters.

Crossovers are welcome, but please make sure that the focus POV is a character from RotG/GoC.

Works in progress are welcome and encouraged, as long as they fit the prompt. No reason not to celebrate Halloween all year ‘round! No need to worry about having to have something complete before posting.

Don’t feel like you ***must*** post a piece Every… Single… DAY, and/or fill every single prompt.  Burnout is not fun.  But do try to post at least ONE piece during the 13 days of the challenge.

Be sure to tag your works with @rotg-halloween, and list #rotghalloween in one of your first 5 tags.

Please tag works accordingly, and be sure to use any warnings for sensitive and potentially triggering subjects.  

HAVE FUN, and support your fellow creators.

RISE OF THE GUARDIANS HALLOWEEN 2024: Prompts

19 October 2024 / Day One: Creak

20 October 2024 / Day Two: Darkness

21 October 2024/ Day Three: Cabin

22 October 2024 / Day Four: Castle

23 October 2024 / Day Five: Apparition

24 October 2024 / Day Six:  Dystopia

25 October 2024 / Day Seven: Howl

26 October 2024 / Day Eight: Talisman

27 October 2024/ Day Nine: Changeling

28 October 2024 / Day Ten: Slasher

29 October 2024 / Day Eleven: Transmogrify

30 October 2024 / Day Twelve: Orbit

31 October 2024 / Day Thirteen: Slither

Saving this

25 delicate things lovers do that i adore:

(feel free to use!! 8, 10, 11, 18, 20, AND 21 PLSS???? *crying* yall better tag me when u write any of these?? got it??)

gazes lingering on each other

glancing away quickly when you catch them staring

finding excuses to hold your hand

delicate, slow and soft soft kisses >\\<

smiling excessively, naturally and so easily around you :`>

hands cupping your face before a kiss

the feeling they're left with after the kiss

the giddy feeling you're left with after the kiss. (yall's toaster waterproof??? :) )

picking you up and twirling you when they're excited

somebody taking an off-guard picture of you staring at each other, completely-in-love

glowing in their presence. ( im so sad )

feeling comfortable together in silence

smiling, listening keenly whenever the other rants

their eyes try to find yours whenever they hear you in crowded areas

"you're staring" "you're glowing, my love, of course i will." :)

giving small thoughtful compliments

dancing in the rain together [CRYING]

a third person saying, "no matter where they are, they're always together and in their own world."

resting their forehead against yours

shoulder kisses!!! kisses on the nape [ㅜㅜ in tears rn lmao]

the shy person initiating to kiss first!!!

touching your lips where they kissed you hard. (CAN SOMEONE KISS ME UNTIL IM A PUDDLE-)

hugs in the dark, hugs under a tree, hugs in the rain, running into their open arms and hugging them tight>>>>

placing kisses on their scars :(

waking up to a small breakfast and a note written by them before they left for the day <333

I could use some good news