I FUCKING LOVE INFORMATION!!! I WANT TO LEARN EVERYTHING AND KNOW EVERYTHING!!!!! I WANT TO UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING ABOUT LIFE, THE UNIVERSE, AND EVERYTHING!!!!!! I AM UTTERLY CONSUMED BY MY THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE!!!!!!!!!!!!
listen... i have been thinking a lot about this post:
i don't know what it is exactly, but something about a frustrated Elrond almost yelling out, still gently, that he'd live for his love instead of dying for it, is very very touching for me.
last night i might have gotten a bit carried away, and i wrote a little something about that. it's my very first shot at writing a fanfic of my own so please bear with me!
it's under the break and on AO3 if anyone wants to read 🫶🏻
In the twilight of Imladris, as the stars began their nightly vigil, you stood on the balcony of Elrond’s chamber, your heart heavy with frustration and hurt. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of evening blooms, but tonight, the beauty of the valley seemed distant, overshadowed by the turmoil within.
Elrond stood a few paces away, his serene demeanor a stark contrast to the storm that brewed in your soul. The gentle sound of the Bruinen river, usually a source of comfort, now seemed to mock the tension between you.
“Do you truly hold me in such low regard?” you challenged, your voice trembling with emotion. “Am I of such little consequence to you that you can remain unmoved as I bare my soul?”
Elrond’s eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his usually composed features. “You misunderstand me,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow.
“No, I understand all too well,” you interrupted, your words cutting like a sharpened blade. “You, with your timeless wisdom and boundless patience, have already revealed your true feelings. I ask again: would you be willing to lay down your life for me, for all of us, or does fear restrain you?”
For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths. Then, as if a dam had broken, Elrond’s composure shattered. His eyes filled with unshed tears, his voice rising in desperation. How could you not see? How could you not know that every moment with you was etched into his very soul? He could no longer hold back the torrent of emotions.
“To die for love is simple!” he nearly screamed, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of longing and regret. “A brief surrender of mortal coil to the embrace of eternity,” he added while the soft moonlight cast shadows upon his features, accentuating the lines of sorrow etched upon his noble visage.
“But to live, to truly live, is so much greater! For you, I would live instead of die,” he looked at you, his gaze piercing through your soul, laying bare his raw emotions. You felt the depth of his admission, each syllable heavy with the burden of his unspoken devotion, and the stars above seemed to shine brighter, as if bearing witness to his words.
“Do you not see the love, as brilliant as the leaves of Laurelin, that shines forth from my eyes each time I cast them upon you?” he asked desperately, on the edge of weeping. Elrond’s voice cracked, his eyes brimming with sorrow. “Are you blinded to it?”
Not awaiting your response, Elrond turned his gaze towards the lofty trees, their branches murmuring in the gentle breeze. As the night deepened, Imladris lay shrouded in a serene glow, its gardens veiled in shadows that swayed gently in the flickering dance of firelight and the soft embrace of starlight. The fading remnants of daylight whispered their farewell, surrendering to the celestial canvas unfurling above, adorned with the sparkling jewels of the heavens. The tranquility of the valley belied the weight of its history, a history that Elrond bore witness to through the ages. Memories of battles fought, kingdoms risen and fallen, and the relentless march of time haunted his thoughts.
Torches blazed brightly, casting dancing shadows upon the ancient stone, their fiery tongues licking at the velvety darkness with a fierce determination as Elrond’s mind drifted back to the tumultuous events of the Second Age, a time of great upheaval and sorrow.
“I have seen the glory of Númenor crumble beneath the weight of its own pride. Powerless I have stood as the Last Alliance marched to the very gates of Mordor, and I have borne witness to evils so immense that even the stoutest of our warriors could not withstand them,” he said, desperation building in his voice; his silvery eyes now shone with something you could not decipher. “I have gazed into the eyes of death countless times, her blades twisting within the depths of my wounded heart. So many of my kin have I lost to the ravages of war, their lives laid to rest in pursuit of a noble yet hopeless cause,” he took a step closer, his face now inches away from your own. “It is not the fear of death that prevents me from yielding to its embrace for you, meleth nîn.”
“You awaken within me the very spirit of endurance that Eru bestowed upon his children,” he paused, his gaze turning towards the fire illuminating the terrace. “A spirit that has waned over the long ages of my dwelling, and yet... your mere existence rekindles it.
“In your presence, I find a light that guides me, a reason to embrace each new dawn. My heart, though burdened with the weight of ages, finds solace and renewal in your faintest smile. To live for you is not a burden but a blessing, a path I would tread willingly, every day anew.”
Elrond’s hands delicately encompassed your face, and you felt the gentle pressure of his fingertips, each point of contact a deliberate caress. There was a steadiness to his touch, a silent reassurance as if he sought to convey a message that words alone could not express.
“For you I would find joy in the simple pleasures that weave the intricate tapestry of our days. Through the darkest of hours, I shall cling onto hope, tending to each seedling of kindness as a gardener tends to his beloved blossoms. For you, I would dive willingly into that terrifying inkwell known as existence, with all its uncertainties and fears.”
listen... i have been thinking a lot about this post:
i don't know what it is exactly, but something about a frustrated Elrond almost yelling out, still gently, that he'd live for his love instead of dying for it, is very very touching for me.
last night i might have gotten a bit carried away, and i wrote a little something about that. it's my very first shot at writing a fanfic of my own so please bear with me!
it's under the break and on AO3 if anyone wants to read 🫶🏻
In the twilight of Imladris, as the stars began their nightly vigil, you stood on the balcony of Elrond’s chamber, your heart heavy with frustration and hurt. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of evening blooms, but tonight, the beauty of the valley seemed distant, overshadowed by the turmoil within.
Elrond stood a few paces away, his serene demeanor a stark contrast to the storm that brewed in your soul. The gentle sound of the Bruinen river, usually a source of comfort, now seemed to mock the tension between you.
“Do you truly hold me in such low regard?” you challenged, your voice trembling with emotion. “Am I of such little consequence to you that you can remain unmoved as I bare my soul?”
Elrond’s eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his usually composed features. “You misunderstand me,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow.
“No, I understand all too well,” you interrupted, your words cutting like a sharpened blade. “You, with your timeless wisdom and boundless patience, have already revealed your true feelings. I ask again: would you be willing to lay down your life for me, for all of us, or does fear restrain you?”
For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths. Then, as if a dam had broken, Elrond’s composure shattered. His eyes filled with unshed tears, his voice rising in desperation. How could you not see? How could you not know that every moment with you was etched into his very soul? He could no longer hold back the torrent of emotions.
“To die for love is simple!” he nearly screamed, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of longing and regret. “A brief surrender of mortal coil to the embrace of eternity,” he added while the soft moonlight cast shadows upon his features, accentuating the lines of sorrow etched upon his noble visage.
“But to live, to truly live, is so much greater! For you, I would live instead of die,” he looked at you, his gaze piercing through your soul, laying bare his raw emotions. You felt the depth of his admission, each syllable heavy with the burden of his unspoken devotion, and the stars above seemed to shine brighter, as if bearing witness to his words.
“Do you not see the love, as brilliant as the leaves of Laurelin, that shines forth from my eyes each time I cast them upon you?” he asked desperately, on the edge of weeping. Elrond’s voice cracked, his eyes brimming with sorrow. “Are you blinded to it?”
Not awaiting your response, Elrond turned his gaze towards the lofty trees, their branches murmuring in the gentle breeze. As the night deepened, Imladris lay shrouded in a serene glow, its gardens veiled in shadows that swayed gently in the flickering dance of firelight and the soft embrace of starlight. The fading remnants of daylight whispered their farewell, surrendering to the celestial canvas unfurling above, adorned with the sparkling jewels of the heavens. The tranquility of the valley belied the weight of its history, a history that Elrond bore witness to through the ages. Memories of battles fought, kingdoms risen and fallen, and the relentless march of time haunted his thoughts.
Torches blazed brightly, casting dancing shadows upon the ancient stone, their fiery tongues licking at the velvety darkness with a fierce determination as Elrond’s mind drifted back to the tumultuous events of the Second Age, a time of great upheaval and sorrow.
“I have seen the glory of Númenor crumble beneath the weight of its own pride. Powerless I have stood as the Last Alliance marched to the very gates of Mordor, and I have borne witness to evils so immense that even the stoutest of our warriors could not withstand them,” he said, desperation building in his voice; his silvery eyes now shone with something you could not decipher. “I have gazed into the eyes of death countless times, her blades twisting within the depths of my wounded heart. So many of my kin have I lost to the ravages of war, their lives laid to rest in pursuit of a noble yet hopeless cause,” he took a step closer, his face now inches away from your own. “It is not the fear of death that prevents me from yielding to its embrace for you, meleth nîn.”
“You awaken within me the very spirit of endurance that Eru bestowed upon his children,” he paused, his gaze turning towards the fire illuminating the terrace. “A spirit that has waned over the long ages of my dwelling, and yet... your mere existence rekindles it.
“In your presence, I find a light that guides me, a reason to embrace each new dawn. My heart, though burdened with the weight of ages, finds solace and renewal in your faintest smile. To live for you is not a burden but a blessing, a path I would tread willingly, every day anew.”
Elrond’s hands delicately encompassed your face, and you felt the gentle pressure of his fingertips, each point of contact a deliberate caress. There was a steadiness to his touch, a silent reassurance as if he sought to convey a message that words alone could not express.
“For you I would find joy in the simple pleasures that weave the intricate tapestry of our days. Through the darkest of hours, I shall cling onto hope, tending to each seedling of kindness as a gardener tends to his beloved blossoms. For you, I would dive willingly into that terrifying inkwell known as existence, with all its uncertainties and fears.”
listen... i have been thinking a lot about this post:
i don't know what it is exactly, but something about a frustrated Elrond almost yelling out, still gently, that he'd live for his love instead of dying for it, is very very touching for me.
last night i might have gotten a bit carried away, and i wrote a little something about that. it's my very first shot at writing a fanfic of my own so please bear with me!
it's under the break and on AO3 if anyone wants to read 🫶🏻
In the twilight of Imladris, as the stars began their nightly vigil, you stood on the balcony of Elrond’s chamber, your heart heavy with frustration and hurt. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of evening blooms, but tonight, the beauty of the valley seemed distant, overshadowed by the turmoil within.
Elrond stood a few paces away, his serene demeanor a stark contrast to the storm that brewed in your soul. The gentle sound of the Bruinen river, usually a source of comfort, now seemed to mock the tension between you.
“Do you truly hold me in such low regard?” you challenged, your voice trembling with emotion. “Am I of such little consequence to you that you can remain unmoved as I bare my soul?”
Elrond’s eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his usually composed features. “You misunderstand me,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow.
“No, I understand all too well,” you interrupted, your words cutting like a sharpened blade. “You, with your timeless wisdom and boundless patience, have already revealed your true feelings. I ask again: would you be willing to lay down your life for me, for all of us, or does fear restrain you?”
For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths. Then, as if a dam had broken, Elrond’s composure shattered. His eyes filled with unshed tears, his voice rising in desperation. How could you not see? How could you not know that every moment with you was etched into his very soul? He could no longer hold back the torrent of emotions.
“To die for love is simple!” he nearly screamed, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of longing and regret. “A brief surrender of mortal coil to the embrace of eternity,” he added while the soft moonlight cast shadows upon his features, accentuating the lines of sorrow etched upon his noble visage.
“But to live, to truly live, is so much greater! For you, I would live instead of die,” he looked at you, his gaze piercing through your soul, laying bare his raw emotions. You felt the depth of his admission, each syllable heavy with the burden of his unspoken devotion, and the stars above seemed to shine brighter, as if bearing witness to his words.
“Do you not see the love, as brilliant as the leaves of Laurelin, that shines forth from my eyes each time I cast them upon you?” he asked desperately, on the edge of weeping. Elrond’s voice cracked, his eyes brimming with sorrow. “Are you blinded to it?”
Not awaiting your response, Elrond turned his gaze towards the lofty trees, their branches murmuring in the gentle breeze. As the night deepened, Imladris lay shrouded in a serene glow, its gardens veiled in shadows that swayed gently in the flickering dance of firelight and the soft embrace of starlight. The fading remnants of daylight whispered their farewell, surrendering to the celestial canvas unfurling above, adorned with the sparkling jewels of the heavens. The tranquility of the valley belied the weight of its history, a history that Elrond bore witness to through the ages. Memories of battles fought, kingdoms risen and fallen, and the relentless march of time haunted his thoughts.
Torches blazed brightly, casting dancing shadows upon the ancient stone, their fiery tongues licking at the velvety darkness with a fierce determination as Elrond’s mind drifted back to the tumultuous events of the Second Age, a time of great upheaval and sorrow.
“I have seen the glory of Númenor crumble beneath the weight of its own pride. Powerless I have stood as the Last Alliance marched to the very gates of Mordor, and I have borne witness to evils so immense that even the stoutest of our warriors could not withstand them,” he said, desperation building in his voice; his silvery eyes now shone with something you could not decipher. “I have gazed into the eyes of death countless times, her blades twisting within the depths of my wounded heart. So many of my kin have I lost to the ravages of war, their lives laid to rest in pursuit of a noble yet hopeless cause,” he took a step closer, his face now inches away from your own. “It is not the fear of death that prevents me from yielding to its embrace for you, meleth nîn.”
“You awaken within me the very spirit of endurance that Eru bestowed upon his children,” he paused, his gaze turning towards the fire illuminating the terrace. “A spirit that has waned over the long ages of my dwelling, and yet... your mere existence rekindles it.
“In your presence, I find a light that guides me, a reason to embrace each new dawn. My heart, though burdened with the weight of ages, finds solace and renewal in your faintest smile. To live for you is not a burden but a blessing, a path I would tread willingly, every day anew.”
Elrond’s hands delicately encompassed your face, and you felt the gentle pressure of his fingertips, each point of contact a deliberate caress. There was a steadiness to his touch, a silent reassurance as if he sought to convey a message that words alone could not express.
“For you I would find joy in the simple pleasures that weave the intricate tapestry of our days. Through the darkest of hours, I shall cling onto hope, tending to each seedling of kindness as a gardener tends to his beloved blossoms. For you, I would dive willingly into that terrifying inkwell known as existence, with all its uncertainties and fears.”
Lightning ⚡ on the skin ✨ or gentle waves pattern 🌊 ✨ either way nature is showing on our body bc we are a part of her and I've found it help me to see things like that, now I'm honoured not ashamed 💚
So this is just a short one, I'm not sure exactly where I'd put it in the timeline, but it's probably more towards the earlier fics, maybe after the jealousy one?
The Book Incident
Description: Sanji thinks you're mad at him, but something else (something scandalous) is at play.
Sanji is sure you’re angry with him, but he doesn’t know why. It started at breakfast; you didn’t smile at him with the same radiance and only gave him three compliments on his cooking instead of your usual five. Then there’s the book incident.
You were reading up on the deck, beneath the shade of Nami’s tangerine trees, and he just had to stop by and tell you how breathtakingly beautiful you looked with the wind ruffling through your hair. He must’ve startled you because you jumped then threw your book at him, hitting him square in the face, his nose immediately gushing blood. Which actually wasn’t so bad. Mostly because ou fussed over him and ushered him into the kitchen so you could help him stop the bleeding, your bottom lip pushed out in a worried pout, your eyes focused on him and him alone. But once you were done and the blood was dried up, you apologized and ran from the room, leaving your book behind.
He glanced at the title, A Maiden’s Revenge. The cover was pink and flowery, the title and author in flowing script. He swallowed hard. Revenge? You were definitely angry with him.
Sanji knows if he asks the others what to do, he’ll get varying responses. Just give her some space, from Nami. You probably pissed her off with all your perving, maybe throw yourself off the ship and see if that works, from Zoro. A maybe just apologize for anything and everything, from Usopp and a cook her something good Sanji, I’m sure she’ll forgive you then, from Luffy. None of it is necessarily bad advice, except Moss Head’s, but it’s not what he’s looking for.
So, he sulks in his room for a bit, tracing the letters on the cover of your book, racking his brain for something he might have done to upset you. He hasn’t been flirting with others as much, he made your favorite food, complimented your sewing skills, and even let you use one of his skillets to practice making shots off reflective surfaces! He’s sure he hasn’t done anything to upset you. He sighs and flops back into his hammock, your book slipping from his lap onto the floor and falling open.
Sanji leans down to retrieve it, stopping short when his eyes fall upon the page.
Mirabelle tugged at Tristan’s hair, pleasure arching through her as he devoured her, his hands leaving bruises on her thighs, his nose pressed to her bud, rubbing with each movement of his strong tongue plunged deep within her secret place. “More, please, please,” she cried, feeling a rapid building of pleasure threatening to overtake her.
“Yes, Princess, tell me what you need, I wish to give it to you, I will give you everything, anything you desire, just say the word,” he said, still kneeling between her legs, looking up at her with brilliant blue eyes, half lidded with lust, his golden hair shining in the sunlight. “Say anything at all and I will give you whatever your heart desires, I am yours, enthralled by your beauty and goodness.”
Mirabelle’s heart fluttered, and she tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs. Tristan was her former betrothed’s dearest friend, and yet he was knelt between her legs, having sneaked into her room after hearing that Dorian, her betrothed, had called off their engagement.
“Gods, I cannot contain myself, Princess, please, forgive me, I must feel more of your warmth, I have loved you for so very long,” Tristan said, one hand leaving her thigh, his long, agile fingers dancing on her core, sinking in and curling, making a shout of his name leave her lips. “Yes, yes, please, please, I must hear your voice, I must.”
Mirabelle whined and moaned for him, feeling as if she were possessed by some wanton creature as he wrung pleasure from her over and over again until she was writhing and grinding down on his hand and tongue like a shameless, pleasure drunken—
Sanji’s face burns, and he shuts the book quickly. So maybe you weren't angry with him, but embarrassed? It makes sense, he came upon you reading something quite tantalizing, and if the others knew they would tease you mercilessly. He resolves to return the book to you without the others noticing, to spare you the embarrassment. He tucks the book inside his jacket and makes his way to the door, pulling it open only to see you on the other side poised to knock.
“Y/N,” he says, giving you a charming smile. “I was just on my way to find you.”
“Sanji, I think I left my book in the kitchen, but when I went back to look for it, it was gone. Do you have it?” You fiddle with your fingers, a hint of embarrassment still lingering in your voice.
He pulls it out from under his jacket and hands it to you. “I was on my way to deliver it to you, gorgeous.”
You take the book and tuck it under your arm. “Thanks, and sorry again for hitting you with it, you just startled me.”
“No harm done,” he says, leaning on the door jamb as he looks down at your book. “Though you may want to be more careful where you read that.”
Your eyes go wide. “Y-You read it?”
His smile widens. “Just a paragraph or two.”
“Kya sent it to me, she likes these kinds of books, not me,” you say quickly, tripping over yourself to explain.
He shrugs. “I am not one to deny a woman her pleasure whether it be real or fictional, it is beauty’s duty to indulge in all things delightful.”
You bite your lip. “You have a very interesting way of thinking, Sanji, I like it.”
“I live to please, Princess,” he says, giving an elaborate bow, not realizing his slip of tongue until he straightens up and notices the way your face darkens with embarrassment? Attraction? He hopes it’s the latter.
“I should go,” you say, already inching back towards the stairs.
Sanji catches your hand and brings it to his lips. “If you ever wish to put fiction to reality, I am more than willing.”
You let out a squeak and nod, then dash back up the stairs and Sanji’s heart pounds in his chest, as he ducks back into his room, blushing.
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