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himegureisu · 20 hours
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What is...
On every What is Wednesdays I will explain a trope, a rhetorical device, or a literary technique in a few sentences. Put in the comments what you would like me to explain next.
What is... a drabble?
What is... dead dove?
What is... archetypal characters?
What is… deus ex machina?
What is… whump?
What is... plot bunny?
What is... canon vs. fanon?
What is… a headcanon?
What is… a plot hole?
What is… retcon?
What is… WIP?
What is… a sequel hook?
What is… a crossover?
What is… crack?
What is… a rarepair?
What is… a red herring?
What is… fluff?
What is… smut?
What is… OOC?
What is… a missing scene?
What is… Coda?
What is… a trope?
What is… Alpha vs. Beta Reader?
What is… a cliffhanger?
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himegureisu · 5 days
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And then when we can't think of how to start it, we create memes
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himegureisu · 9 days
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himegureisu · 16 days
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u ever read a fanfic so good that you want. fanfic of the fanfic
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himegureisu · 19 days
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Father
Summary: Your period is late and that may mean one thing.
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Author's Rambles: I have a job interview tomorrow morning and I'm procrastinating. This fic was supposed to be for June but I can't wait that long.
Pairing: Severus Snape x Female Reader
Warning: Pregnancy.
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In the grand scheme of your life, there were three constants. Your husband, Severus, your job at the Ministry, and your period. Every month, on the second week, it arrives without fail until it didn’t.
In the beginning, you didn’t notice. Caught up in the routine of daily life, its’ absence is blissfully forgotten. Especially since every woman could do without the pain once in a while.
However, as days turned into weeks, your stash of products remained untouched in the bathroom cupboards, and the surplus reminds you of your monthly visitor missing in action. There could only be one reason but…
You could be wrong.
It could be stress from work or the constant time zone changes that affect your body. Yet, the overwhelming fatigue, the cramps, and the light spotting at what should be that time of the month were signs you couldn’t ignore.
In his Potions’ storage, you gather the necessary ingredients for the gravidity draught and head towards his vacant classroom. Your heart pounds beneath your chest as you walk through the halls mindlessly greeting the students that passed.
On his table, you lay the ingredients down following the steps in the tome, carefully measuring each one before adding them to the cauldron. Its’ color slowly changes as it brews. Your thoughts are overwhelmed by the possibility that you nearly jump at the sound of his voice.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes narrow in suspicion, as he approaches the table, “Hm?”
“I’m making a Potion,” you mumble, unable to look him in the eye as you stir, as he muttered, “Obviously,”
“That begs the question, what are you making?”
“I’m certain you can make an educated guess from the ingredients I retrieved from your stores,”
His eyes meticulously roam over the herbs and extracts of creatures spread out in order of the steps the potion would be brewn. His sharp intake of breath after a minute or so tells you he’s deduced it.
“Let me,” he steps in front of you, taking the ladle from your trembling hands, as you step back and watch, “You didn’t call for me,”
“Sev,” you whisper, he huffs, as you wind your arms around his torso, “I was going to after…”
His hands deftly transfer the amount of liquid you need in your vial, the remainder needed to determine your condition, as you step up beside him. His face was incomprehensible, the first since your marriage that you couldn’t get a read on him.
“Unacceptable,” he simply said, “In hardship and in triumph, in sickness and in health, in every step of the way, I will be with you. From this day until the end, come what may, I am yours. ”
Your breath hitched at his deep voice professing those vows you exchanged years before. His eyes meet yours when you look up and stand by his side.
“You will never be alone whatever the outcome,” he professes, placing a gentle kiss on your left hand where your rings rest, and holding it as he takes the vial from the rack to offer it to you, “I promised,”
“I love you, so much,” you try to hold back tears as you take the vial in one hand, and grip his on the other, “Here goes,”
In a gulp, you drink the liquid and grimace at the awful taste.
“It takes two minutes,” he murmurs, taking you in an embrace, as you both stare at the other vial in the rack, “The color should change to green if it’s positive and red if it’s negative. If it’s yellow, it is too early to tell,”
“Can we turn around?” you ask anxiously, he complies as you turn to face the wall, and from there you start to ramble, “I know you’re not fond of children and I know we said we’d think about this when we get here and…”
“I’m not fond of children,” he does say, and your heart nearly breaks into a million pieces there, “But, they’re not ours and I wouldn’t truly know if we didn’t have one, no?”
“You’re okay if it’s positive?” your voice quivers, as he cups your cheeks and nudges you to look at him, “Or if it’s negative?”
“I wouldn’t mind a little girl that looks just like her mother,” he admits, and pulls you in, trying to resist the urge to sneak a glance, “Or a boy would be fortunate to inherit your nose. However, should it be negative we can stop contraception and leave it to fate,”
“Okay, is it time?” you nervously ask, he briefly glances at the clock at the end of the room and nods, and you compromise, “On the count of three, we turn around together,”
On one, you hold his hand tight. Two, has him squeeze back reassuringly. Three, has you both turning around to face the potion that would change the course of your lives forever.
Green. Positive.
“Oh my god,” your tears finally fall in a mixture of disbelief, joy, and fear. “Oh my god, Sev!”
There was a lone tear that glistened on Severus’ cheek.
His thoughts were a jumble ever since a student informed him that you were alone and making a potion in his classroom. His feelings were hurt because you didn’t confide in him of your suspicions. Especially considering the gravity of its implications, however, it seems he made the right choice by going to you.
“We’re going to be parents,” he whispers.
He never thought he would be. He never thought there would be anyone after Lily. He never thought he’d meet you. He never thought you’d return his love. But here you were together, years later after that fated day.
It was a whirlwind of emotions, but he couldn’t deny the joy and excitement at the thought that a manifestation of your love for each other would arrive in nine months.
“Severus?” you wipe the tear marks away, but he didn’t answer, “Sev —”
His arms hoist you up the free space on the edge of his table and he stands between your legs. His right hand rests on top of your lower abdomen lightly caressing the nonexistent bump.
“Thank you,” he breathed out, his heart near bursting, as you smiled, “I never thought I could be this happy.”
“I never thought I could be too,” you say, his eyes twinkling in happiness, but your stomach grumbled in hunger, “How about we go get a late lunch, Papa?”
Papa.
“Anything for you two,”
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himegureisu · 20 days
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The Yule Ball [PTII]
Summary: The Yule Ball is about to commence and you arrive in the nick of time.
<< PREV
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On Christmas Eve, in the sparkling silver frost of the Great Hall, students’ conversations come to a hush at the sight of their Potions Professor.
His usually greasy hair was clean and silky smooth. On the other hand, an open black double-breasted tailcoat, black vest, black high-collared dress shirt, black pants, and shiny black shoes replaced his daily robes.
It was different. Conservative but also very appealing.
Especially for the female students. Their grumpy Professor so pleasing in the ladies’ eyes has the boys reminding them why they didn’t like him in the first place. Their giggles and murmurs didn’t stop though, and one thought it would be the best if the scowl on his face disappeared, but alas, they could not make miracles happen.
“Would you look at that?”
“Is that truly Professor Snape?”
“Bloody hell,” Ron mutters under his breath, “Even the old dungeon bat looks better than I do,”
In a procession, the champions walk through the oak doors accompanied by their chosen partners, disrupting the comments,, and enter the Great Hall. Their thunderous claps and ever-so-curious gazes shift at the sight of Hermione Granger on Victor Krum’s arm allowing a moment of vulnerability for you.
In their distraction, from a tunnel behind the pine trees, you emerge behind the Headmaster, Severus none the wiser at your arrival, as he speaks.
“I will keep this short because you all might be sick of hearing from me,” the headmaster quips, and the Hogwarts students laugh, “This evening, I hope that every one of us creates meaningful connections and enjoys the feast. However, before we start, I would also like to welcome a special guest.”
Their students were truly the worst gossips as whispers started once again speculating who the special guest could be, making the stories known to their Durmstrang and Beauxbatons friends.
“I’m glad that you’re here and I am very much eager to indulge in your future antics,” Dumbledore smiles, saying nothing further, and turns, “If you’d please, Filius,”
Their students are curious and confused, a rather deadly combination, at the lack of information from their wily Professor as the orchestra starts the song. The sound of string instruments soon echoes throughout the space as the waltz begins.
On the floor, champions lead their partners through the beginnings of the waltz. Their audience is divided between finding the mystery guest and watching their friends glide seamlessly across the room.
In minutes, the headmaster nudges their Transfiguration Professor, who happily accepts the offer and joins the throng of dancing students, on the floor. His absence allows you to stand beside your husband whose gaze remains afront.
“Don’t you look dashing?” you say, breaking the silence among the staff, “I hope you saved me a dance?”
His gaze shifts at the sound of your voice. His eyes quickly take a once over of you. In your sage green dress that highlighted the very best of your features. Your hair in a braided half updo and holly pin presented simple but elegant.
“They’re only for you,” he answers, raising his hand for you to take, “Shall we?”
“On your lead,”
Onto the fray together, the students not so quietly observe. His hands, on your waist and outstretched hand, lead you to the floor. However, closer than appropriate for students, he whispers in your ear.
“You’re determined to do this?”
“I’d like for them to see what I see in you,” you cup his cheek, your gaze on his as the scowl slowly melts away, “Even just for a bit,”
He sighed in defeat.
Your gazes lock on each other, his steps slow but confident guide you through the symphony. In his embrace, the world blends to the background. To the awe of the crowd, a soft smile settles on his lips, his grip, however, tightened and your merry bubble pops at the sight of his restrained ire at the students who admired you from afar.
“You are the only one I desire,” you breathed, cheeks flushed and eyes only on him, as the veins on the side of his head vanished, “No one else can ever compare,”
His eyes softened at your words, breaking through his facade for the night. By the end of the dance, he places a protective hand on your back and gently leads you through. His form towers over you, briefly leaning on your ear to whisper.
“Being with you feels like a dream,” his voice barely audible as you weave through the people, “That I don’t want to end,”
“It will not end,” you declare, as you finally see his colleagues, and some others you don’t know, “We’ll see through it,”
The Headmaster smiles, at the sight of your hands entwined together, as you approach the faculty and guests. Minerva steps up much faster than the rest and says.
“I’m glad you could make it, dear,” she also smiles, as Severus stands behind you, “You two were lovely out there,”
“Were we?” you coyly ask, glancing at Severus, who resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “I didn’t notice. I’m glad I didn’t trip,”
“I would’ve caught you if you did,” Severus declared, as the others approached, and from there Madam Maxime interjected, “Severus! Who is the lovely lady?”
“Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, this is my wife, Madame Snape,” he introduces you, as you shake friendly hands, “At the moment, she works for the Ministry of Magic,”
“Oh!” the tall lady exclaimed, as Minerva cut the conversation, “I hate to break up this introduction, however, we must be seated for dinner,”
“Of course, Minerva, lead the way,”
In a flash, she transformed into her role as Deputy Headmistress, and seats you beside Severus and her, but also near the Headmaster and the new staff that hasn’t met you. Your friendly smile was a stark difference from the unimpressed line that formed on your husband’s lips.
“Will you be staying the night?” Minerva asks, as you observe Albus who spoke of what he wanted for dinner and it appeared, and answered, “Yes, the headmaster was kind to allow me to stay in the castle for Christmas break,”
“Did he?” Severus said as he looked at you, “Headmaster?”
“Merry Christmas, Severus,” Dumbledore grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously at the light, as Severus exhaled, “Thank you, headmaster,”
“Do enjoy the feast,” Albus said, “There is more to come,”
On his words, you and Severus briefly give each other a look before shrugging it off, oblivious to the utter madness that would transpire once you left the Great Hall for much more amorous and festive pursuits.
There would be time to get to know the students during the break. However, a part of you admits that you were partial to your husband's little snakes.
But they didn't know that.
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himegureisu · 21 days
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Hello! So, l've read your mini mail series and I was wondering if you could write a oneshot where reader sends Snape a long black scarf with their initials on the first day of school as she was away when he left?
Scarves and Hearts
A/N: Yes, I'm here switching fandoms because I'm stuck on the other one. It's about time also that I did this. I hope you like it!
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It was the first breakfast of the first day in Hogwarts.
Their students, sorted and seated, at their respective tables provided lively background noise in contrast to the polite conversations at the High Table. On his right, the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore has been talking but he didn’t register the words.
No, he’s been surly ever since your absence this morning.
Your side of the bed was cold, breakfast cooked, and a note on the pillow about why you were gone. There were times he hated your job more than his. This was one of those times.
“Oh,” the newest Weasley addition to Gryffindor, Ronald, or Ron, said, accompanied by the hoots of owls flying in, “The mail’s here,”
His mood quickly changes at the sight of your owls together, carrying a present in silver wrapper and silk green ribbon, a note attached, as they land in front of him, and read.
I’m sorry I missed the start of the term. I hope that this’ll keep you warm in my absence.
I love you always.
A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, Dumbledore and McGonagall’s attention caught by the sound of rustling paper to see their Potion’s Professor unraveling a very soft and thick crocheted scarf in green and silver.
On one end, instead of the Slytherin House Crest, there was the shape of your shared patronus. On the other end, at the front side were his initials, on the back, surprisingly, were yours.
“That’s a lovely scarf there, Severus,” Minerva commented, from the other side of the headmaster who said, “A work of love,”
“Yes, it is,” he paused, admiring your work, “Very lovely indeed,”
From a distance, at Gryffindor Table, the Weasleys, Granger, and Potter huddle closer as Ron briefly glances at the High Table, where Severus starts to pack the scarf, and asks.
“What do you reckon of that?” he observes, his head of house, the headmaster, and his hated professor amicably talking, “Do you think it’s a woman?”
“I can’t even imagine,” Harry frowns, at the sight of Professor McGonagall giving them a look, “Someone at the Professor’s side,”
“There could be,” Hermione carefully says, as the boys suddenly look her way, “You never know. What Professor Snape may be to us could be different to any other person,”
“We honestly don’t know,” George adds their two cents on the matter, as he observes the Potions’ Master leave, “But what we do know is that whenever like that comes he’s much more tolerable to be around with,”
“Truly?” Ron turns to his brothers, and Fred nods, “Yeah, you’ll know if he reduces homework by a page, or deducts fewer house points than usual,”
“I guess we’ll find out later then,” Hermione remarks, as the bell rings throughout the castle, and ushers Harry and Ron to stand. “Time to go,”
Their second class was Potions and, in this case, the Weasley twins were right. There was less a page of parchment on their essay and he didn’t insult Hermione when she interjected to answer the question no one wanted to.
In time, when the first snowfall arrives at one of the Hogsmeade weekends’, the Potion’s Master could be seen wearing the scarf he’d received in the mail months before adding a splash of color to his usual black robes, bearing an almost happy facade. His initials on the front, and yours on the back, hidden and kept near to his heart.
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himegureisu · 23 days
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Hello lovely. I read the lovely creation “Time” and I fell in love with the details in it. So beautiful.For some reason I felt like my chest was heavy I don’t know why but it made me very emotional ❤️It was absolutely beautiful
I also saw that your requests are open and I was wondering if you would be interested in writing something for Eomer of Rohan ? 🥰🥰🥰
I can definitely try something though might take sometime because idk how he is
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himegureisu · 24 days
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Im physically unwell- I need snape fics before I perish (pls send recs my way🙏)
AO3
Broken Silence by WitchImage
The Magic of Different Worlds by allixiler
The Assistant by allixiler
Broken but not Shattered by TheWildOmega
These are just some there are a lot here in Tumblr I can’t link because I’m typing with one hand eating snacks rn.
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himegureisu · 29 days
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Shout-out to multilingual writers who are writing in their second (or third and so on) language.
The frustration of speaking it fluently, but still having to google basic words when you're writing.
The absolute joy of finding a word that sounds just perfect and conveys exactly what you mean.
Doubting all your grammar and being afraid to post it or even send it to a beta reader.
The euphoria of someone calling your use of this language, that is not your mother tongue, beautiful.
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himegureisu · 1 month
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❣️ "Shipping" characters means that you are interested in the idea of what it would be like if characters were involved in a romantic or sexual relationship with each other.
❣️ Shipping something does not mean that you think that the relationship would be the most ideal, desirable, healthy or moral relationship for the characters to be in.
❣️ Shipping something does not mean that you think it should be canon.
❣️ Shipping something does not mean you think it would be good, healthy or desirable in real life.
❣️ Shipping something just means that you think that it's interesting to think about, look at art of, read fiction about, write fiction about, or create art about.
❣️Shipping something means you think it is interesting in some way, not that you think it is morally good or desirable.
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himegureisu · 1 month
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reblog if fanfic writing has been a source of happiness for you and has helped with your mental health
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himegureisu · 1 month
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🦀 Kudos Crab 🦀
If you are scrolling and see Kudos Crab, your fics will be blessed!
You will get good comments and kudos!
You will beat your writers block!
GO AND WRITE!
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himegureisu · 1 month
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Time
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Summary: Your love language is quality time. However, your husband is the King of Mirkwood.
A/N: I was supposed to write a Mycroft Holmes/Female Reader. However, this idea popped up and went brr in my head and then my fingers. I needed to finish it before it went so here it goes my first for this pairing I hope you enjoy! (And good night for me because it’s 4AM also not proofread)
Pairing: Thranduil x Female Elf Reader
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“What was it, meleth nín?” Thranduil asked, “I apologize our time is to be cut short again,”
It was the nth time someone interrupted your strolls to whisk him away for a matter of utmost significance and to be honest, you were tired of it.
Trying so desperately to take time between the day to see him. To get a moment of his time.
He was a King.
A title that holds responsibilities he could not neglect. You know that. However, you didn’t expect to be pushed aside.
“It’s nothing,” you fake a smile, “You should go they need you,”
But I need you too.
You didn’t try after that.
Your handmaiden noticed your melancholy days after the incident. It was like he didn’t notice you were gone.
Yes, you did eat together most of the time. However, you didn’t pop by his office during your free time. You didn’t leave snacks anymore for him to munch on when he forgets to eat. You didn’t propose to walk so you could both stretch your legs. You didn’t wait for him to go to bed.
Contrary to your belief, your husband did notice your absence.
His days were often tedious and tiring. Your short visits were always something he looked forward to. The bright spot to his days so when palace staff gossip came through his ears…
“The Queen seems pale. Is she ill?” a soft feminine voice asked in concern,
“Oh, why would she be ill?” a different voice, an ellon this time, “Maybe she’s expecting a child!”
“She could be ill because of the child.” the elleth remarks, as another joins in the conversation,
“The Queen is not expecting I would know.”your handmaiden divulged as much, No, she seems dejected.”
“The King has been busy…”
Her words echoed in his mind because it was true. His thoughts wandered to those moments your times were constantly interrupted and the day you last visited.
Oh.
“Where is the Queen?” he asks your handmaiden, who exited the study, a book on hand for you.
“At the gardens, My Lord,” she simply answered.
“That’s for her?” he gestured to the book, she nods meekly, “I’ll take it to her. Go tend to your other duties,”
Your handmaiden scurries off in fear and intimidation to go prepare your clothes for the evening. On the other hand, your husband quickly makes his way to the gardens where he couldn’t see you.
“By Valar,” he mumbles frustratedly, walking through the foliage, “Where are you?”
Your soft sniffles give you away.
Between two trees, there was a hammock tied on to their sturdy barks. On the hammock, beneath a thick blanket, you hug his pillow as your tears fell down your cheeks.
From outside your cocoon, the grass crackle as slow footsteps approach your hideout.
Your book finally.
“Did you find that book I asked for?”
“I did,”
A different voice answered. One you haven’t heard from in what seemed like days. His voice.
“Meleth nín,” he breathed out, “Please do not hide from me,”
“I’m hardly presentable,” you sniffed, wiping your tears away, as the hammock tilts a bit on one side, “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting of sorts?”
“No,” he frowns, sitting on the edge of the fabric, the book left on by his side, “I don’t care if you’re presentable or not. I’m not the kingdom,”
Slowly, you emerge from your shell to be greeted by his silver eyes, dull in color much like your own has been these past couple of weeks.
“Oh, meleth,”
There were dark shadows beneath your eyes. Your cheeks were stained with dry tears and nose flush from mucus buildup. His heart twisted beneath his chest at the sight of you.
What has he done?
“Oh, meleth nín,” he said, taking you in his arms for a warm embrace you missed, “I’m sorry. I am a fool,”
He hated being the cause of your tears.
“You were,” your voice cracked, as you tuck yourself beneath his chin savoring his presence, “I missed you so much,”
“I missed you too,” he kisses your forehead, and pulls you closer, “I’m sorry that I didn’t reach out, didn’t make the time, made you cry, made you feel like this…”
Your tears fall once again down your cheeks to his robes. He noticed. He noticed your absence after all.
“You are my starlight, my reason to go on,” he softly declared, “I promise I’ll try to do better,”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I needed” you quietly admit, “I thought I’d be bother you already do so much,”
“You are never a bother,” he adamantly says, glancing down to see you also looking at him, “You are always welcome to whisk me away from the duties of court. I’d rather you than them.”
“Their needs are much more important than mine,” you say.
“But your needs are the most important to me,” his words caused your heart to flutter in the most endearing ways. “You are the most important to me. You do not need to vie for my time or attention. You will always have it. Though, I may not notice it at times you should not hesitate to tell me.”
“If so, can we just stay like this?” you breathed out tiredly against his chest, your ear to his heart beating soundly beneath, “I just… need you,”
“We can,” he gently kisses your forehead, as your eyelids droop down, “It would be a pleasure,”
“Thranduil,” you softly whisper, as he places his forgotten pillow beneath your heads, “Gi melin,”
“Gi melin, meleth nín,” his fingers tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear as you settled on his chest, “Sleep. I will be here when you wake,”
It wasn’t long until you did.
Your breaths soft and even as Thranduil gently places the book on the ground so neither of you gets stabbed by its’ edges. He pulls you the closest he could, you unconsciously grasp tight.
Just the way you both liked it.
He lays there quietly observing the heavens, where scattered white clouds and birds of the realm adorned the blue skies, wondering how he was so lucky to have fallen for a second time to you.
He didn’t know what time it was and frankly, he didn’t care when his eyes slowly surrendered to the thrall of slumber joining you in blissful rest for the afternoon.
He would do better. He was going to do better. For you.
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himegureisu · 1 month
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himegureisu · 1 month
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Daydreaming about my book:
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Writing my book:
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himegureisu · 1 month
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What i made instead of writing.....
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