#Durin needs hugs

[conqueenror]

They HAVE to give us Albedo's second SQ/ Venti's second SQ/Mondstadt Interlude quest or anything like that during the Natlan cycle where some shit happens again in Mondstadt, involving Durin and Albedo, and please even more Rhinedottir lore thankyou, and Dragonspine and. Yk. They gave us the prologue, they HAVE to give us the story after all those years. Or what was it for then.

[bipolargreen]

OP, by all means, stay on your bullshit because it’s giving me LIFE 😜

back on my bullshit

[mothergold]

if i don’t see albedo at the fucking winter event you all will be bearing witness to how much i can cry

[eczlipse]

HAND PLACEMENT - [ENHYPEN!HYUNGLINE]

summary : where enhypen!hyungline prefer placing their hands on you depending on the scenario. inspired by : @bokkicidal (love you.)

pairing : enhypen x fem!readers. , hyung line for now !

heeseung .

casual : he definitely wouldn’t hesitate to wrap his hands around your waist at any given moment— kind of like, some sort of comfort. he’d relax his hands on you, maybe swaying you around a bit if you’re in public. he had probably developed this habit before because of how much you had spent time together pre-relationship. he never failed to pull you by the waist within any given situation and you never failed to let him. he didn’t always do it just for you, sometimes to claim you, to mark you as his in a way.

sensual : your jawline is his favourite place to hold whilst he kisses you, his hands roaming around both your body and that beautiful face of yours— he loved holding you in general. his thumb slowly rubbing your soft skin as he continued to work his tongue with yours. his hands slipped perfectly with your face and you would both always enjoy kissing and more. his height played a part in this, he needed to cup your face in order for him to look at you— sometimes for you to obey him …

jay .

casual : jay is always big on interlocking hands. he’d definitely want to have your hand in his wherever you both go. wanting to keep you safe and near him. your safety is his number one priority and you would always abide by it. holding your hands when your cold, when you both need to run somewhere and even while watching movies. to have you by his side is enough for him in any situation. to know your next to him helps him move forward, physically and mentally. jay is honestly just such a caring man, when you want to run free and around— he wants to do it with you too.

sensual : he definitely adores having his hands around your neck whilst kissing you or even talking to you sensually. holding you in between his hands, staring into you and kissing you even— he’s gentle enough not to hurt you but god— he loves wrapping his hands around your neck— not even to be sexual. the way he had gotten to that point of control in your relationship and how you trusted him enough to hold you in that manner just made it all so much better.

jake .

casual : jake loves to have his hands rested on your hips. within any place or time. he seems the type to also tug onto the belt loops of your jeans when you’re almost anywhere. it’s become a habit of his, in malls, grocery stores and even in the house— holding onto the curves of your hips, gliding his hands up and down at times. at first it surprised you because, normally you would’ve expected a guy to hold onto your waist area more but he just seemed so obsessed with pulling you in that way.

sensual : to him, he’d probably think that moving his hands higher would change the setting or feeling whenever he wants to have sensual moments with you. meaning, he aims for the waist in this case— he’d tighten his grip a bit , not to hurt you, just to get reactions out of you. if he’d hug you he’d tighten himself around you and your waist, rubbing and gliding his hands slowly over your sides while he whispered sweet nothings’ to you and more.

sunghoon .

casual : he most definitely enjoys playing with your hair or jewelry sometimes. if you’d both been waiting in public for something, he’d think that playing with your hair— curling it up or down would be a bit entertaining to him. even attempting to make braids. if not that— he’d play around with the necklace he bought you around your neck. fidget with it and even just make the most of the time you both have to spend. sunghoon would sometimes even wrap his arm around your waist in any situation— (another waist-holder) just to make time pass by quickly. another thing he’d most definitely do is just have his hand resting on your lower back, to guide you around stores or to just somehow have a part of you with him.

sensual : during moments between the both you, which you both rarely get— he’d most definitely hold your body as close to him as possible. whether you’re both in bed or just in your shared home, he’d love to squeeze you when you’re alone. he loved having you all to himself. your face being squeezed against his biceps was definitely something you had to get used to at first but as long as in the end you two both love it— it’s worth it.

[babushkatty]

Tranquil SAGAU - Part 3

-> Part 1

-> Part 2

-> Part 4

Turns out, you did jinx yourself last week.

You should have learnt your lesson from all those times you and your sister had spoken bad luck into existence, be it unannounced guests or other inconveniences.

But you didn't, so here you were.

Staring down motherfucking Ursa the Drake, with Dvalin pinning them (her?) down with his massive body and motherfucking Crepus Ragnvindr looking at you both simultaneously like it's Christmas and like he thinks he's schizophrenic.

Diluc didn't look any better. He was as white as a sheet and if you were any better at identifying emotions, you'd think he was about to cry.

...surely not?

But then again, he was younger than in the game and his father was right there, alive and well - you doubted he was anything like the cold and grumpy Diluc who closed himself off from the world that you knew.

A terrified baby that was probably overthinking how Ursa would kill him, his father and the whole cohort they traveled with all the way to Tuesday.

...now you just felt bad for judging. You wouldn't be any better in his place, especially without your scary Dvalin priviledges.

"Ursa, darling, what exactly are you doing?"

All you got for your troubles was a roar in your face.

Except it didn't even feel like a scary dragon about to eat you, it felt like a child throwing a tantrum.

...the notion of Ursa being this uncontested and plaguing Mondstadt for a thousand years while being a mere child was kind of terrifying actually, so you very deliberately decided not to dwell on it. For your own sanity, if nothing else.

"Dvalin, you know Ursa, so... Any ideas?" You asked the dragon, who looked almost bored as he outright lounged on Ursa as if they (she?) were his beddings. If that didn't make a statement, you didn't know what would.

"While we did not cross paths frequently in the past, I had always thought her to be... Especially nefarious."

Ursa trashed around, but Dvalin didn't budge and effortlessly kept them (her? her.) pinned down.

"She reminds me of Durin. But where Durin was oblivious to the grevious harm he caused and merely wanted to play, Ursa is fully conscious and reveling in the pain she inflicts on others, often being open to agreements that involve human sacrifice."

Ursa screeched. In protest, maybe?

"For now, there is not much that can be done. You would need to be much stronger to subdue her permamently, which requires time. But I shall stall her until you are strong enough, alongside Boreas."

Oh.

So your scary Dvalin priviledges were being voided. It was a shame, you really liked his company -- his stories were a delight to listen to and he spoiled you rotten for comfortable accomodations, any bed or chair from now on would be a massive downgrade.

Still, it was understandable. Responsibilities and human lives were priority over your comfort. You weren't going to complain too much.

"I'll miss you," you say as you stroke his wings, not really having access to his torso or head to hug him properly due to Ursa.

Speaking of Ursa...

"Be good. You're making trouble for everyone."

And maybe you were being reckless and simply asking for your arm and face to be bitten off, but you flicked her on the snoot, because you only live once and Dvalin had you mildly convinced nothing in Teyvat would hurt you.

Ursa startles and then, honest to God, whines.

Dvalin huffs in what you assume is amusement and grabs at Ursa with his massive limbs. His wings stretch as he readies himself to take flight.

"I will miss you too, (Name)."

And just like that both dragons are gone like the wind.

...

That left you all alone to face the Ragnvindr and C.O., so you put on your customer service smile and clap your hands in fake excitement you really don't feel.

If nothing else, working in retail taught you how to play the fool.

"So, now that that is done and over with. I believe you have a mess to clean up?"

Crepus looks at you like you grew an extra head, before doubling over in a hearty laugh that broke through the weird atmosphere that settled over the caravan as easily as a hot knife through butter.

Diluc still looks like a poke would knock him over, but at least he got some colour back in him.

"Ah, thank you for that."

Crepus walks over to you and offers you a handshake, gripping your hand firmly and with enthusiasm that was entirely on him. Not that you weren't excited to meet characters from Genshin... but that was the thing, wasn't it? They weren't the characters you knew in Genshin. Crepus was barely a mention, Diluc was a different person entirely and the rest of the caravan were either NPCs hanging around on the map somewhere or didn't exist in the game at all.

So, you had to treat them like actual people.

And you weren't good with people.

"No problem. I'm (Name) (Last Name), just call me (Name) please."

Smile through the pain Harold, grant me your strength.

"Crepus Ragnvindr, and the redhead over there is my son, Diluc. It's a pleasure to meet you, (Name)."

He lets go of your hand and smiles so brightly you half-heartedly wished for some sunglasses. Was this man sunshine personified? Certaintly felt like he was.

"I would say I wish we met under different circumstances, but that's not exactly the truth, is it? Any other circumstances would have me trying to fight Ursa the Drake and that was bound to end badly for me, so... Thank you for saving my life."

And at that precise moment the Knights of Favonius spurred on by Kaeya Alberich himself burst into the scene, weapons ready.

...Kaeya looked like such a baby too, it had you thinking on just how young the literal children like Diona would be.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

Suprise, we're 4 years early in the timeline! And I have no idea what the timeline is besides what little I glimpsed from the Wiki, so lore accuracy is thrown out the window!

✨ I still can't tag the one person that asked to be tagged and I'm feeling horrible for it even when it's not my fault ✨

Also, yes, ✨ is my favourite emoji, why do you ask? :D

Also, also -- yes, I did pump out 3 parts in 2/3 days, it is an anomaly, do not expect such pace from me especially since I'm about to throw myself head first into HSR.

✨Self-plug time✨

My UID is 715 837 832 and I got a lvl50 Bronya as support.

I am still on Walt copium, even though I didn't get him even once despite the many, MANY rerolls I did, but that is neither here nor there.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I don't know if you can do it but if you can (want to), can you do child Atsushi and child Akutagawa in teyvat with teen reader.

Or they could be with normal Ages too!

If you were not alone

Part IX

Characters: Self-Aware! (Child!) Atsushi Nakajima, Self-Aware! (Child!) Akutagawa Ryunosuke

Reader: Teen! GN! Reader

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Physical age regression (Atsushi and Akutagawa remain their memories, mental age and abilities, but physically were turned into children). Platonic hug.

________

🐯🧥 After you, Atsushi and Akutagawa woke up in Teyvat, you tried to find both good and bad in your situation. Bad № 1 - you were transported into Teyvat, without your phone and without any idea of how to go back. Good № 1 - Akutagawa and Atsushi were with you. Bad № 2 - They, somehow, become children. If the situation was better, you would tease them for being an older sibling now. Good № 2 - Their memories were intact. Bad № 3 - You were on Dragonspine in your normal clothes, that wasn't suitable for this mountain. Good № 3 - You ended up in Durin's cave, so, for now, you were warm.

After the analysis you came a to a conclusion - situation was a bad one, not a good one or neutral one. How are you supposed to get down from Dragonspine? The closest people to the cave were Fatui solders, and you don't want to go near them. And you weren't sure, if Albedo visited this place at all. Atsushi and Akutagawa offered to use their abilities to get down from the mountain. However, there were two problems. First - it was almost nighttime, and you don't want to wander around Dragonspine at night. Second - none of you were sure, that Beast beneath the moonlight and Rashomon still have the same power level.

You three decided to sleep in a cave and rethink the situation in the morning.

You fall asleep, listening to a Durin's heart beating.

🐯🧥 The dream you have was strange. Like... You could see everything, that was happening around the Dragonspine. Hilichurls, boars, Fatui, members of Adventure guild... You even saw Albedo in his lab. Yet, you couldn't move. You saw, feel all of them at the same time... Strange dream indeed.

'Durin could not move, but he has remains of his will. It was hard, but he left the message in Scarlet Quartz's pieces near the lab. He knew, who was sleeping near his heart. Creator...'

🐯🧥 You woke up because of Atsushi's and Akutagawa's angry shouts, the smell of burning firewood, toasts, fried onions and tomatoes. The moment you opened your eyes, you saw Albedo, together with Klee, were trying to calm Akutagawa and Atsushi, while trying to keep an eye on the fire. Albedo calmly tried to reason with your older(?) brothers.

"Please, we don't mean any harm. We just want to help."

Well, it seems, you got some luck on your plate.

🐯🧥 You jinxed it. Yes, you had breakfast, and Albedo brought warm clothes. But, the biggest threat was soaring above you three. Because, if Albedo wasn't lying, soon you will have a bounty on your head and an angry mob chasing after you. On your meek "But... what if I told the person on the throne, that I don't want to be in charge and only want to return home" Albedo responded with "The Cursed Brat won't listen. They won't change their mind."

You three were in danger. And you need to move fast. Chase after Alice. To get home.

Albedo couldn't help Atsushi and Akutagawa became adults again. But, he said, that they would either get to their original age soon enough, or Alice could help with that.

And, according to Albedo, she was on her way to Fontaine.

Albedo gave you supplies and helped you find a boat.

Your journey has begun.

🐯🧥 Almost near Fontaine borders, you three were captured by Fatui. You were brought to the House of Hearth. You three were separated. Atsushi and Akutagawa were with other kids. And you were kept in the basement. In a hidden dungeon.

🐯🧥Atsushi hated the House of Hearth. While it wasn't as bad as his previous orphanage, this place still felt rotten. Especially because of the other residents.

"Poor brothers, the Sinner had corrupted you. Don't worry anymore. Father will protect you." Lynette, as Atsushi learned her name later, couldn't finish the line. Akutagawa still can't use Rashomon, but, the knowledge about self-defense was still with him. And Atsushi knew, how to throw a punch without white tiger's help.

Two ten-year-old boys were throwing punch after punch, hitting Lynette.

"Don't you dare talk about [Y/N] like that! They are our sibling!" yelled Atsushi. Akutagawa growled, trying to bite Lynette's ear.

Both of them were restrained and locked in a storage room.

They could hear, how Lyney and Freminet, who locked them, were whispering about "poor kids. I hope, it's not too late."

When the voices disappeared, New Double Black tried to make up a plan.

Akutagawa whispered.

"Did you learn, where [Y/N] are, Man-tiger?"

Atsushi shook his head.

"No. You?"

Akutagawa shook his head in return.

"No. This damn place is too big."

And, Atsushi could bet on it, other kids were keeping an eye on him and Akutagawa. They can't search the orphanage freely. But they knew, that you were still here. Something tells them, that your... "Punishment for being an Imposter" won't be quiet and hidden.

🐯 They were talking the rest of the day. And no good effective ideas were proposed. Atsushi hated it. He hated to be small and powerless. He hated, that you were in danger. If only his ability was here...

Atsushi's eyes slowly focused on the small window. At the full moon.

The transformation was painful. But, the white tiger has returned.

🧥 Akutagawa didn't pay attention to Atsushi or moon. He was thinking about you. You were his little sibling. And he was your protector. And he can't fail his job. He just needs�� Just need his power. Akutagawa almost shouted.

"Rashoumon: Tenma Tengai"

And black tendrils finally came to life.

And the black hellhound has returned.

🐯🧥 Huge feline were shuffling the air, like it was trying to find something... Or someone. Yes... His family were missing. Tiger cub were missing. Tiger saw, that dragon knight was here. He will help find tiger cub.

Akutagawa, in his Rashomon's armor, climbed on tiger's back. Rashoumon's tendrils ripped off the door.

Their search has begun.

🐯🧥 You were half glaring at Arlecchino. The Forth Harbinger has been visiting your cell every day. Trying to convince you to be reasonable. She won't let you and Shin Soukoku go. She saw a chance of having her own loyal Creator. And she won't lose her chance.

Her voice was calm.

"Be reasonable. I can protect you and two kids you were traveling with. All I need from you is to be an obedient godling, child."

You breathe in, but stayed quiet. You already begged Arlecchino to let you three go. She didn't. Maybe, if you tried again...

🐯 He could smell it. Faint scent of his tiger cub. He snarled, following it. His tiger cub was in danger. Dragon knight on his back destroyed doors, that were on their way.

They reached the basement. And white tiger finally found his tiger cub.

🐯🧥 The door behind Arlecchino fell apart. Before Harbinger could react, familiar black maw sank its fangs in her shoulder and threw her away. The door of your cage have no chance against white tiger and Rashomon.

Immediately, you were hugged by Akutagawa, and the huge feline rubbed his head against your torso, chuffing happily.

Happy tars flow down your eyes.

"Guys! You are here!"

Akutagawa, before answering, put you on tiger's back, sitting behind you.

"We would never abandon you."

White tiger waited, before you two sat on his back, and started to ran off.

You three left the House of Hearth behind.

🐯🧥 Tiger were running all night, until sunset. Then Atsushi transformed back. Then the tears and hugs came again. You three were finally safe, Atsushi and Akutagawa were adults again. Now you can focus on finding Alice.

🐯🧥 It took two more weeks, but you managed to do it. You found Alice. And you finally went home.

____________

🐾 Reunion was tearful. Your fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts and siblings were happy to see you. They were happy to see Atsushi and Akutagawa.

🐾 Your stay in Teyvat were scary. But, one thing you knew for sure. Doesn't matter, what age they were, your brothers Atsushi and Akutagawa will protect you.

_______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

[darlingsfandom]

omg cill won a golden globe!! him and younger reader celebrate?? idk 😭

I'm very proud him! we all are 🥺

Gif credit: @edward-munson

Warnings: swearing, face fucking, rough sex

It almost didn't seem real, it was almost like a dream but it was indeed real. You were standing there in your best dress clapping hard enough that your hands felt like they were going to fall off with tears in your eyes as Cillian stood there holding his golden globe. He was a little shy before he started talking. Everyone sat down for a minute as he gave his speech but what caught you off guard was hearing him say your name out loud.

"Darlin, please stand up!" Cillian moved his hand in an upwards position and you stood up to his motion. "Ya see tat lovely lady right there, she's me world! Helped me through out the ups and downs! Never left me side durin ta hard times! She's da best person I know, I love you!" You wiped your eyes with the back of your hands as the rest of the table decided to group hug you as if you won the award, but you did in a way! Cillian was the best boyfriend you've ever had. The rumors the paps had made about you being a gold digger since Cillian is twenty one years older than you were now put to rest with his speech. He finished up his speech by thanking the rest of the cast and crew along with a little speech to Christopher as well. As he came off stage everyone was clapping and cheering him on when you ran up to him and cupped his face to plant a big wet kiss on his nose before kissing him proudly on the lips.

Cillian looped his arm with yours and lead you back to the table before pulling out your chair for you. You held his hand the rest of the night. You clapped for Robert when he won best supporting actor , you made a face at the terrible Barbie "joke" and so did Cillian. The rest of the night carried on and you laid your head on his shoulder to which Cillian kissed the top of your head. Once the night was over the two of you made your way outside so he could take his photos with the award but when he seen you standing off to the side he pulled you over with him because you needed to be showed off! He handed you his award . "See not only did I win, I really won!" He kissed your face making you blush and giggle before he grabbed your hand and the two of you made your way towards the car so you could get to the hotel.

"I'm very proud of you." You spoke up once the two of you were in the back of the car. Cillian leaned in and kissed you hard. Your hands rested against his chest while you moved your lips against his slowly. His tongue pressed against your lips making you part them so he could slide in. Your skin felt hot as his finger tips brushed against the back of your neck so he could pull you in closer. The metal of your ruby necklace felt cold as your body temperature rose. Lucky for you the hotel was a short drive away because if you had spent another minute in that car, that driver would've gotten a show.

Cillian held your hand tightly making way through the paps that were taking pictures, calling your names and yelling questions. You just waved and smiled until the two of you were inside the lobby and making your way to the elevator. His hands wrapped around your waist while his lips attacked your neck. The little ding let you know that you were where you needed to be. The two of you made your way into the bedroom and Cillian quickly had you in his arms once again before throwing you back onto the bed.

His breath was hot against your mouth as he kissed your lips making his way down your jaw line, the side of neck and down to the top of your breasts. Cillian sat you back up to help take off your dress leaving you in a matching set that hugged you in all the right places. His mouth watered as you unhooked your bra , tossing it at him which drove Cillian wild.

"Tonight's all about you daddy." Your words were laced with sex appeal while you dropped down to your knees. Your hands ran over his thighs before unzipping his pants and yanking them down along with his boxers.

"Fuck!" Cillian hissed as the cold air hit his hard cock. You smiled up at him while pulling off his boxers. He carefully stepped out of the pile of clothes around his ankles before looking down at you with those devilish blue eyes that made your thighs squeeze together. Cillian stood there stroking his cock above you making you pout because you wanted his cock, you wanted to please him and he knew it, but he wanted to tease you.

"Open pretty girl" he pushed the head of his cock past your lips and down your throat just a little before pulling right back to which you pouted your lip at him. "Don't ya worry honey..." Cillian slid his cock back down your throat until he hit the back of it making your eyes water. Your hands flew up and grabbed his thighs while he started fucking your face. He knew this was about him and when it was about him you allowed him to do anything he wanted. Tonight was a special night and you had promised him that if he won you'd let him do this.

"Good girl! Takin me fuckin cock like a whore! Me whore!" He grunted while pulling on your hair hard and thrusting hard down your throat with spit dribbling down your chin you were the most beautiful thing he had his eyes on. You sat on knees holding still as possible while he held your head. Your thighs were sticking together from all the wetness pooling in your panties. Cillian pulled out enough to let you breathe. Your lips were swollen and covered in spit, your eye make up had been cried off and the spit and dribbled down onto your chest.

"Up!" Cillian helped you up onto the bed, got you on your back and climbed on top of you. Your lips covered into a smile as Cillian lined the head of his dick up to your pussy and pushed in slowly while holding his hand on your stomach.

"I love you!" You blurted out. It wasn't the first time you said that but it was the first time you said it during sex. Cillian stopped his movement, looked down at you with a soft smile and stroked your cheek. "I love you too." Cillian leaned down and kissed you softly. His lips moved in sync with yours while your hands wrapped around his back and pulled him closer which made his dick go deeper inside of you. Your mouth gasped open so Cillian slid his tongue inside of you making you cry out in pleasure into his mouth. He lifted up his hips before smashing back down into yours. Cillian wasn't holding back anymore! He kissed you hard while holding up your legs so he could hit the angle you liked so much.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as Cillian pounded hard into you. Your moans and whimpers were loud. His hands squeezed your thighs tightly while grunting and cursing under his breath which made you wetter by the second. Your hand ran down between your legs and rubbed your clit. Cillian smacked your hand away to replaced it with his hand, only he could touch you at that moment.

"Cill! You're gonna make me cum!" You pleaded.

"Do it pretty girl! Make a mess of me cock!" Cillian was getting close too. Both of you were panting messes. Your orgasm hit you hard as you squeezed his cock and cried out his name. That was enough for Cillian to have his own orgasm. Cillian held your legs up in the air, looked down into your eyes and came deep inside of you while moaning out your name. He kept eye contact with you when he finished before slowly pulling out, but you stopped him half way.

"No! Keep it in!" You blurted out making Cillian raise an eyebrow. He slowly slid back in making his cum get pushed back inside of you. He laid down on top of you resting his head on top of your sticky chest. Your fingers played with his hair as the two of your laid there smiling ear to ear.

"I really do love you darlin. Every inch of ya, yer me girl ."

[wordbunch]

Time to say a handful of things abt s02 finale!!!

under the cut so you can avoid it! :)

However I am very much looking forward to reading everyones comments opinions feelings etc ♡

Did I expect to cry over the death of freaking king durin in the first 0.3 minutes??? That scene was so incredibly well done and I was like omg am I glad to be witnessing this for the first time🥹😭 yes I'm still pissed I couldn't see LOTR in cinemas cause I was still in freaking diapers

NAAARSILLLLLLLL narsil our beloved, I was squealing, yes OUT LOUD. narsil bbygirl you will always be famous 💅🏻 elendil go slay

I know yall pay him dust but ISILDUR I always love to see him and I love him and theo being the resident trouble brothers duo (its giving merry and pippin but Doomed). Sorry not sorry but yall moved on too fast (I DIDNT!) from the fact he feels guilty for his moms death. pls i am HUGGING HIM! his doe eyes I am deceased. pls I just want to stare at his face for eternity. MY PERSONAL HEADCANON WAS CONFIRMED 😩💦 that boy kisses like he is STARVEDDDD

[Redacted thoughts here]

Stranger yes we knew he was gonna be gandalf but. I love a name drop. I love Tom and I love choosing friendship over power and I love the staff and I love everything . They're giving me my childhood dreamlike feeling and I am so grateful I get to see a glimpse of that story 🥹💛

So many SPEECHES foreshadowing SO MANY THINGS. I am obsessed. The absolute cruelty of celebrimbors death and the death of his works....the one SINGLE TEAR on annatars face....dare I say peak p o e t I c cinema.

Where do I even begin with HALADRIEL ✨️✨️✨️ charlie the lord of acting and just like. in his eyes you can see everything and more. I need to write a dissertation on their duel istg

The way he didnt hesitate to absolutely PURR "GALADRRRIEL" every. single. time. [Redacted thoughts]

I WOULD HAVE PLACED A CROWN ON YOUR HEAD.

do you want me to like die?????

I SEE YOU.

yes actually they do want me to die.

HUMAN HALBRAND???

And RIP to me indeed.

[Ultra redacted thoughts]

I audibly WHIMPERED. sweet lord i was like My poor babygirl has to endure this manipulation 😩😩😩😩 he stooped so low and I was so here for it but girl i would have F O L D E D 😔✊🏻

Then galadriel on galadriel violence??? The only thing better than galadriel TWO galadriels actually.

but then.

the elrond and rivendell of it all. rob aramayo has never looked more gorgeous than when he took nenya to heal Gal. WE GET TO SEE HEALER ELROND GROWING INTO HIMSELF WITH OUR OWN EYES!!!! you don't UNDERSTAND i spent 20 YEARS dreaming of rivendell and now I get to see it coming to be!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭💚💚💚💚 the way that you can see gears turning in his head as he takes the ring. the camerawork ate and devoured i fear - with your own eyes you can see him growing. developing. like yes I am feeling more ready to take charge of some things. what if I CAN do it. what if I CAN make so many things and people so much better????

and u will babyboy 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Do i even need to add i had full body chills at the scene of elrond,gil,galadriel and arondir!!!!!!! on the cliff!!!!!!

BITCH THE SUN STILL RISES!!!!! Pity CAN defeat sauron!!! friendship and light DO WIN over darkness!!!! The tolkienism of it all. i will rewatch a hundred times and then some.

[criticallyinneedofadar]

The Rock and the Vine

Here it is ya'll. The Final Chapter. If you are interested- I would definitely be willing to write the letters between these two that happened between chapters and then some of Elrond's letters from the ending! Let me know in the comments!

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The journey back to Khazad-dûm passed beneath a sky the color of pale steel, clouds trailing like silken banners above the mountains. The tension that had weighed so heavily on your shoulders during your departure from Eregion had lightened since Elrond’s arrival, though not vanished entirely. It clung at the edges, like a storm on the horizon—one you could feel but not yet see.

Elrond rode beside you now, his expression calmer than when he’d burst through the underbrush in a panic, but still distant in quiet thought. Occasionally, your eyes would meet, and in those moments, there was a depth of understanding between you that needed no words. He had come looking for you. He had feared you lost. And now he remained, choosing to accompany you back.

At the fork in the road, Elrond raised his hand to his company. “Ride ahead to Eregion,” he said. “Tell Lord Celebrimbor I will follow within the week.”

There was no protest. The elves bowed, wheels of their horses turning toward the horizon while you and Elrond continued alone.

Khazad-dûm rose from the stone like a mountain crowned with iron and fire. The gates stood open, as they always did to friends of the dwarves, but even from a distance, something felt... off.

The air hung thicker. The forges were quieter.

Elrond seemed to sense it too. “It is different,” he murmured. “Even the stone feels subdued.”

You both dismounted in silence. As you crossed through the great threshold into the mountain, you barely made it ten steps before a familiar voice rang down the corridor.

“Well, look who finally decided to come back!”

Disa rounded the corner, hands on her hips, robes flowing around her like a stormcloud given form. “You disappear without a word, not a note, not a whisper—not even a beard-hair’s worth of warning—and then waltz back with an elf in tow?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again as she swept forward and crushed you in a hug that made your ribs creak.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured into her shoulder. “I had to go. I didn’t want to offend you—”

“Offend me?” she pulled back just far enough to glare at you, tears shining faintly in her eyes. “You scared me half to death, girl.” She smacked your arm lightly. “Don’t ever do that again.”

You nodded, heart tight, only for her gaze to shift to Elrond.

“And you,” she growled. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just because you’re tall and tragic. You’re supposed to be the wise one, remember?”

Elrond raised a brow, managing a perfectly measured bow. “I stand thoroughly chastised, Lady Disa.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her mouth twitched. “You’d better.”

Later, in the royal quarters, you stood beside Elrond as Prince Durin met with you both privately. His face was weary, ash streaking his hands and cheeks as though he’d come directly from the forge.

“Something’s wrong with my father,” Durin said quietly, his voice heavy. “He’s still got the ring, and he barely eats. Barely speaks. He mutters to himself, stares at nothing for hours. He won’t let me or Disa near the mithril anymore.” He paused, glancing toward Elrond. “You were right. I didn’t want to believe it, but... I think the ring is changing him.”

Elrond nodded, his expression grim. “The rings were forged with Annatar’s help. We believed them to be gifts. But I fear now that some of them were poisoned with his will.”

“And you think...” Durin trailed off, eyes shadowed.

“I think the longer your father wears it, the harder it will be to bring him back,” Elrond said. “And I think time is running out.”

There was a long silence. The weight of their words sank into the stone walls, too vast to be immediately answered.

Durin looked to you, his voice softer. “You came back just in time.”

“I only wish I’d come back sooner,” you murmured.

Elrond followed you in silence through the familiar corridors until you reached the door to your chambers. You paused there, hand on the handle, realizing you’d never imagined bringing him here—not like this.

He didn’t wait for you to invite him in, nor did he presume. He simply stood beside you, quiet, waiting.

You turned the handle.

The door creaked open.

And the two of you stepped inside.

Your room was quiet when you entered, the familiar scent of ink, metal, and earth grounding you in the space that had so long been your sanctuary. It was a modest room by dwarven standards, though crafted with immense care—warm stone walls carved with patterns of leaves and runes, a polished desk tucked into the corner, and shelves lined with books, tools, and bits of half-finished projects.

You watched Elrond quietly as he stepped inside behind you. He didn’t speak at first. Instead, he moved slowly, his hands behind his back, eyes drifting across the collection of items that made up your world. He paused at your worktable, where small lengths of wire and metal had been twisted into attempts at jewelry. A few were elegant, shaped with the precision the dwarves had taught you. Others... far less so.

He picked up a crooked silver pendant with a bent clasp, the corner of his mouth quirking in faint amusement. “A design from before your morning tea, I suspect?”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide the soft smile tugging at your lips. “I was trying something new. It didn’t like being new.”

His eyes lingered on your books next, then the shelf of small stone carvings you’d bartered from the children of the miners in exchange for sweets. You could see it on his face—the bemused fondness, the curiosity he always tried so hard to keep dignified.

Then he turned slightly, glancing toward the adjoining space where your bedchamber lay. He hesitated, not crossing the threshold, only peering in with the air of someone who did not wish to offend.

But something inside caught his eye.

He stepped forward, slowly, until the edge of the bedchamber light touched his face. And then his expression shifted entirely.

There, in the corner of the room, where a long shaft of golden light poured down from a mirrored channel high above, flourished the elwinglir. The delicate star-bloom shimmered faintly in the beam, its petals gently unfurled as if basking in the light of a summer’s afternoon. It was vibrant, thriving—alive in a place of stone.

Elrond moved closer, kneeling beside it. His hand hovered before gently brushing the soft edge of a petal. “It lives,” he whispered, as though the words themselves might frighten it away.

You stepped beside him, folding your hands in front of you. “The sunlight beam was already here when Durin gifted me the room,” you said. “But I adjusted the mirror channels, added a few more lenses. I thought... maybe it would be enough. I wasn’t sure it would survive.”

Elrond looked up at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

You smiled faintly, though your voice dropped with the weight of quieter thoughts. “I started caring for it after I wrote your letters. It became a habit. Water, prune, write... and wait.”

You hesitated. “I thought maybe you weren’t getting them. Or maybe you just didn’t want to answer.”

He stood slowly, the movement quiet. And then, without a word, he reached into the folds of his cloak and withdrew a bundle. A stack of letters, carefully bound with a strip of blue silk.

“I answered every single one,” he said, voice low. “Every time I tried to send them, I was called away. Gil-galad, Celebrimbor, Galadriel... they always needed something. Someone. And still, I wrote. On horseback, beside campfires, between councils. I never stopped.”

He held the bundle out to you.

“These are yours,” he said. “To read, to keep… to burn in the forge if you like. I wouldn’t blame you.”

You didn’t move. Not yet. The weight of the letters seemed too much to hold just yet. But your eyes never left his.

And neither did he move away.

“I would never burn them,” you said softly, your fingers finally closing around the bundle Elrond had offered. “Your words… your thoughts… they’re precious to me.”

Elrond’s breath caught, barely audible, but you saw the way his jaw tensed and his eyes softened. He stood close—so very close—and you could feel the energy between you humming like the air before a thunderstorm, electric and heavy with things unsaid.

You turned the letters over in your hands, careful, reverent. Then you looked up.

And he was watching you with that same quiet intensity—the kind that had once unnerved you, but now left you aching. There was longing in it, barely restrained. But still, he didn’t move. Elrond Peredhel, noble and reserved, forever patient.

Always waiting for someone else to make the first move.

Well. You’d waited long enough.

You stepped into the space between you, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck. His skin was warm beneath your fingers, and his breath hitched as you leaned in.

And then you kissed him.

There was no hesitation, no slow beginning—it was a kiss born of months of silence, of letters left unread, of words unspoken and tension unrelieved. His arms wrapped around you as though they had always meant to, pulling you into him as your lips met, deep and desperate and real.

When you broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together, your hands still tangled in his hair.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered breathlessly. “I—I shouldn’t have—but if one of us didn’t do something, I was afraid it would be years before anything happened.”

Elrond let out a low, delighted laugh, one you felt in the very center of your chest. He cupped your face, brushing his nose gently against yours.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “It probably would’ve taken me decades. I’ve always been absurdly slow when it matters most.”

You giggled, and the sound seemed to ease something between you both. You drifted together toward the little seating nook beside your bookshelves, letters still in hand, and settled together on the cushions, close—closer than you’d ever dared before.

Elrond’s arm curled around your waist, his cheek resting briefly against the crown of your head as you nestled into him, letting the firelight dance across the stone walls. For a time, neither of you spoke. The silence was no longer heavy. It was warm, full of understanding.

Still, the thoughts crept in.

“The world’s changing,” you murmured. “The rings. King Durin. The unrest. I feel like we’re standing at the edge of something vast and dangerous.”

Elrond didn’t respond right away, only tightened his hold around you. Then his voice came, soft and sure.

“We are,” he said. “But you won’t stand at the edge alone. Whatever comes, we will face it together.”

You closed your eyes, the comfort of his words wrapping around you like a blanket.

*****

Just outside your chambers, the heavy stone corridors were mostly empty, save for two familiar figures.

Disa slowed her steps as she and Prince Durin passed by your door. The sounds inside were faint—barely audible—but unmistakable.

A quiet giggle. A soft laugh. The gentle murmur of two people, finally finding their place beside one another.

Disa stopped and grinned.

“Well,” she said with a huff of satisfaction, “I’m so relieved they worked it out themselves. My next plan involved locking them in an abandoned mineshaft until one of them finally kissed the other.”

Durin gave her a sidelong look. “That was the next plan?”

“Oh please,” she said, linking her arm through his. “You don’t want to know the one after that.”

They continued down the hall, the sounds of quiet laughter fading behind them.

And within the stone-warmed chamber, the elwinglir glowed gently in its shaft of light—flourishing, still.

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 8

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Eddie hears the commotion in the living room, and it takes everything left in him to move away from the door. He just crawls himself forward and onto a pile of nearby clothes because he knows he'll be out of the way there when they open his door.

He knows he should open the door and go out there. Wayne's still out there, confused and concerned, and he needs to call Jeff. He can't just not show up. Yet he remains on the ground, cross-legged this time, face hidden in his hands.

Steve is broken. Because Eddie broke him.

He's been so afraid that something would happen to Steve if he wasn't around but given the track record of Eddie's life, he feels like such an idiot for not realizing the biggest threat to Steve and his safety is Eddie himself.

The commotion beyond his door gets louder, bursting open, and then Robin and Dustin are falling through it, stumbling over each other in their haste to get into Eddie's room. Wordlessly, Eddie points to where he abandoned Steve on the floor, knows that they're here for him.

He's a bit startled when the two finally untangle themselves and Dustin goes to Steve but Robin drops herself onto his dirty laundry, all but draping herself over him in a hug. His body moves on its own, wrapping around Robin and all but pulling her into his lap in a bear hug. He's not crying, too numb for that now, but he does shove his face into the side of her neck and let out a dry, sobbing noise as she coos softly.

"Shhhh. We're here. We've got Steve and we've got you," Robin's voice is wet. She's crying, too, silently but tears are definitely falling because one lands directly in his ear.

He feels detached from himself after that. He's aware of things going on around him but doesn't feel sentient. Robin pulls back from him slowly, she says something as she stands up but Eddie's too busy watching Dustin ever so gently pick up Steve's pinky finger and then Steve. He thinks the smile Dustin gives him is supposed to be reassuring but it's mostly just sad.

Eddie's head followed Dustin as he heads out the door and down the hall, at which point he starts to track Robin as she's coming back down the hall, dragging Wayne behind her.

"Can you stand up, Eddie?" she asks, and Eddie feels like he's watching himself shake his head no more than he feels like he's actually doing it.

"That's alright," Wayne says, as he pats one of Robin's shoulders before moving around her. "I'm not so old as to not be able to get down there. I still don't understand what's goin' on, Eddie, but I'm here."

Wayne joins him on the floor, sitting beside him so he can fling an arm around Eddie's shoulders and tuck him into his side. Robin flops down on his other side, once again draping herself across Eddie like a weighted blanket. It's all very grounding, and a little bit jarring, and that's probably what makes Eddie come back to himself sooner than he would have if he were alone in his room.

"You should be with Steve," is what Eddie decides on saying when words return, turning his head to look at Robin.

"Nah."

"He'd want you-"

"No, he wouldn't. I'm Steve's soulmate and I know him better than anyone else in the world. Which mean you don't get to tell me what Steve would want, because I know what Steve would want. And that's me, here, making sure you're okay first."

"What's happened with Steve?" Wayne asks, and Eddie stiffens. Robin starts rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"It's a long story, Mr. Munson. But I promise we'll fill you in once the crisis has passed."

"Is this related to whatever happened last year durin' the supposed earthquake that y'all can't talk about?"

"Well, I couldn't say either way, since we can't talk about it."

"Right. Get one o' the kids to tell me, then. Whatever they signed ain't legal anyhow."

Robin shoots Eddie a look, like she's trying to figure out if Eddie broke his NDA and told his uncle everything. He gives a quick shake of his head, and then Robin looks to Wayne. "I'm certain Dustin would be thrilled to fill you in, then. Now, Eddie, can you tell me what happened?"

He looks down the hall. He can see people crowded into the trailer's tiny living room but none of them look like any member of the Byers-Hopper household. "Uhh, yeah, but where's El?"

"They're in Indy, some family day thing. But don't worry, we went out to the Cerebro and were able to get El on the Walkie, so they're on the way back."

"You went- how long have I been just... sitting in here," Eddie is mostly talking to himself because it hasn't felt like enough time has passed for them to have made it to pick everyone up, get to Weathertop, communicate with El, and come here.

"Well, Nancy called me-" she cuts off, grabbing Eddie's arm and twisting it around so she can read the time on his watch, "-about an hour and a half ago. So, I guess you've been here that long."

Eddie untwists his arm, shaking her off. "You are being scarily calm right now, Queen of Catastrophizing."

"I already had an hour and a half to freak out. You think I need more?" Robin says as she stands up.

"I guess not," Eddie follows after her.

"Hey, help your old man up," Wayne grumbles, hand out for Eddie to grasp and help pull.

They go down the hall and now Eddie can see the full collective of people in his living room. Nancy, Mike, Lucas, Erica, Max, and Dustin, who is still holding Steve. It settles something inside Eddie, that the group he sees before him is the same one that fought tooth and nail to clear his name and keep him alive.

"So, we're all really sure that we can't just glue it back on?" Mike is asking when Eddie, Robin, and Wayne make it to the living room.

"We aren't sure about anything, Mike," Nancy replies, the frustration in her voice clear.

Everyone stops talking, though, as Wayne gives Eddie a thump on his back and wades through the crowd to get back to his chair. "Well, don't stop on my account. If I hear somethin', no I didn't."

That gets a snort of a laugh from Dustin.

Nancy looks like she wants to argue but doesn't. Instead, she wheels on Eddie, full journalism mode seemingly on, "what happened?"

Eddie swallows thickly before answering, "I dropped him. I-I pick him up and something pinched my palm. It surprised me, or something, and I just- I just let go. He landed on his left side before falling onto his back."

Nancy nods, brain processing much faster than Eddie right now, "And the crack appeared before or after you dropped him?"

He tries to remember, "I don't- I think so?"

"You think or you know?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I don't know, Wheeler," Eddie says it more harshly than needed but he doesn't know! He doesn't remember because he didn't even look at Steve for longer than a second or two after Jeff saw him. "I've been having a mental breakdown kind of all day so no, I don't know! All I know is it's my fault because there wasn't a crack this morning, and now he's missing a finger-"

She's not even effected by his outburst, "Eddie! I'm not blaming you! I'm asking for the details because if you didn't do anything to cause the crack, then maybe that's just Steve, breaking the curse or something."

His anger drains from him almost as quickly as it built. "What?"

"I've been reading a lot, researching you know. About magical transformations. But there's not a lot of nonfiction on the subject. Ergo, I've been reading a lot of fairy tales."

"Which isn't really good for research-" Dustin starts, but Nancy just talks over him.

"My point is that, if you didn't do anything to cause the crack, maybe it just happened naturally. Supernaturally? Whatever, maybe it's a sign of whatever curse is on Steve is fading on it's own. That's why I wanted to know," she shifts from one foot to another now before adding, "I'm sorry about your day. I might have broached the subject differently had I known."

"No, you wouldn't have, but that's why I like you, Wheeler. You're a no-nonsense gal and I appreciate that," Eddie says.

Nancy gives him a small, almost shy, smile in return and the room falls into a silence that just this side of uncomfortable.

"Alright, Dustin, since the talkin' seems to be done, you wanna fill an old man in on what the hell's been goin' on around here for the last few years?" Wayne breaks the silence and Eddie barks out a laugh at the look on everyone's faces.

"Uhh, we don't-I don't know what you are talking about," is Dustin's eloquent answer.

Wayne nods and Eddie knows his uncle well enough to recognize the look on his face and in his eyes. Wayne switches tactics, then, and says, "You got any one older than twenty-five that knows what's happenin'?"

The group exchanges looks before Dustin says, "yes."

"Alright. They comin' here?"

"Yes."

"I can wait, then. Anyone hungry? Thirsty?" Wayne asks, and then without waiting for an answer, looks to Eddie and says, "Eddie, get to makin' some sandwiches. What kinda host are you?" Wayne is shaking his head like he can't believe Eddie's audacity.

Eddie sputters out some indignant response, even as he turns to round the corner cabinet to officially be in the kitchen. His first choice is peanut butter and jelly, but when he gets the peanut butter out, he can see there's probably enough for two sandwiches, three if it's a thin layer of peanut butter. Opening the fridge shows a sad amount of lunch meat; the cupboard has two tuna fish cans.

"Guess we're making several different sandwiches," Robin's voice so close to his back makes him jump, which earns a chorus of chuckles from the peanut gallery in the living room.

"Someone needs to get you a bell," Eddie mutters. "Get to work on the PB and J's. I'll get this tuna mixed."

They work in silence, making three different types of sandwiches. Wayne knew they didn't have enough of any one thing to make enough for everyone here, and the ones who will be showing up eventually, but he told Eddie to do it anyway. Asked, but didn't wait for an answer. Wayne's making busy work for him, he realizes. A distraction from what he's done. He's not sure if he should be thankful for that or not.

The only thing separating the kitchen from where everyone is seated in the living room is a counter and cupboards, so when the sandwiches are done, Eddie just shoved them across the counter. "Sandwiches are done."

It's not exactly a rush for the sandwiches on the other side of the counter but everyone does gather to grab one. There's not even an argument about wanting a specific one, except Max, who is offered all three kinds and when she says PB&J, Mike hands over the one he grabbed without hesitation. It's the most mature thing Eddie's seen him do, if only because every other time he does something mature he complains about it, which kind of ruins the 'mature' part.

It's about three minutes into eating that the trailer's front door bursts open and at first no one is there, like a gust of wind had blown it open, but then El comes barreling in and Hopper can be heard shouting something about knocking first.

"Where is he?" El demands.

"Here," Dustin is already holding Steve out to her. She doesn't even approach Dustin, just pulls Steve to her using her mind, grabbing him out of the air with one hand. She examines him quickly, finding the crack. She trails one of her fingers along the crack to where his pinky is missing. Dustin adds, "Do you want his finger, too?"

She shakes her head and turns to Eddie next, and he doesn't even feel the bandana leave his pocket, but he does watch it fly across the space between them. She moves over to sit in front of the TV, Steve in her lap as she's folding the bandana into a blindfold.

"TV," is her final demand as her eyes vanish behind cloth and she's trying off the bandana. Mike moves instantly to the TV, clicking it on to fill the room with static.

Wayne, to his credit, has only the tiniest hint of an eyebrow raised from watching things move about the room seemingly by nothing. El hadn't even stopped to consider someone not In The Know was here. Guess he's In The Know now.

Will, Jonathan, Argyle, Joyce, and Hopper have made it into the trailer, closing the door silently behind them. Hopper finds Wayne among the crowd of kids, eyes going wide, while Wayne just lifts his sandwich in a salute before taking a big bite out of it.

"Steve, I cannot hear you. I do not think you can hear me in your mind. Nod if you hear me now." El's voice breaks the tense silence that had fallen.

Of shit, what did Eddie do?

"Oh, good. Are you okay?" A pause. "He is nodding. Do you know what happened? He is shaking his head. Do you know why you are far away now? Shaking his head again. You can still hear. Can you still see? He is nodding. Steve, there is a crack on your arm-"

"His left arm," Mike interjectes.

"Yes, your left arm. Yes. You are missing a finger on that hand. Do you think that is what is causing the distance? He is shrugging. Do not worry, we will figure this out. I am going to go now."

El pulls off the bandana and uses it to wipe the blood from her nose before setting it on the living room floor. "I cannot get as close to him as I could before. He stays far away no matter how close I walk. But he is okay."

He's okay. Steve's okay. Fucking Christ, Eddie's going to throw up. A couple people call his name as he dashes down the hall. He crashes through the bathroom door and knows he doesn't have time to close it, so everyone gets to hear him lose his sandwich into the toilet bowl. On the third heave of his stomach, cool hands touch his head, gather his hair up and away from his face. He doesn't even have it in him to flinch or jump. "Thanks."

"I'd say anytime, dingbat, but I don't really want to hold your puke hair too many more times. You get, like, two more, tops," Robin says.

"I can't go back out there, Robin," he whispers, "I did this. I cracked him, broke his finger off and now El can't even hear him. I can't- he's gotta go with someone else. I can't-"

"I know. Dustin already asked if you'd be upset if Steve went home with him. I'll let him know you understand he needs to be around Steve right now."

"Why aren't you mad at me?"

"Dingbat. Eddie. You're mad enough at yourself for all of us," she says, reaching over and flushing the toilet. Eddie feels like there's more throwing up to do but he is glad to have the smell of vomit reduced with the flush. He sits up a bit more, so his hair won't fall into his face when Robin lets go. Robin lets go long enough to search the bathroom cabinets for a hair tie, pushing it into Eddie's hands. "Hair up."

"So demanding," Eddie mumbles even as he gathers his hair into the tie.

"Once you're done ralphing just go to bed. I'll get everyone out of your house."

Eddie nods and Robin leaves, clicking the door closed. He heaves a few more times before his body is done. On shaking legs, he makes his way to his room. He feels like he's floating above himself again. He doesn't know if everyone has left yet, or if he hears nothing because he's too out of it.

He tucks himself in and dozes. He wakes up three times; once, when his uncle comes in and puts the walkie near him on the bed, the second time in the evening when Robin wriggles into his bed and forces herself into his arms with a simple I usually hold Steve when I'm feeling bad, but I suppose you holding me will have to do and the final time, almost at midnight, when the walkie goes off.

"Anyone up?" says the disembodied voice of Dustin Henderson.

Eddie's not sure how the quiet voice woke him up, but it does. He reaches over Robin, who has starfished out of his arms in their sleep, to grab the walkie. He doesn't know if he should answer, so he holds out for someone else.

"Hello?" Dustin asks again.

No one answers. So, finally, Eddie does. "I'm here, Henderson. Bad dream?"

"I'm glad it's you, Eddie," Dustin says, something soft in his voice.

"Why?"

"'Cause I wanted to talk to you," says a new voice, a familiar voice.

"Steve?" Eddie whispers, even as his free hand is violently shaking Robin awake.

Robin mumbles something incoherent, head turning to Eddie as the voice on the walkie says, "Yeah, it's me."

[dopecollectorbarbarian]

Hugs, cuddles and affection \ Many characters

Note: it’s just a post with small drafts that I have ever written so each may have different/similar structure so think it’s kind of gatcha box except for the main topics. I thought it would be interesting to share with you.

Merry Christmas!

Characters:

Galadriel, Elrond, Celebrimor, Gil-Galad

Elendil, Míriel, Isildur, Valandil, Ontamo

Sauron

Hobbit’s members: Elanor Brandfoots, Poppy Proudfellow, Brandfoots family + Gandalf

Arondir, Bronwyn, Theo

Durin, Disa

Adar

Secret characters

✹ Galadriel

She won’t mind cuddles, I suppose! Nevertheless she might be little too busy so you need to ask her.

If she is your friend, she will hold you gently, without hesitation. May it be so that she feels regret to let you go too soon, if there are tasks that require attention.

If she doesn’t trust enough, well… she will hug you. But it feels little different, as if she sees you, but she isn’t seen. She just knows how small gestures may improve someone’s day or mood. Especially when they need that.

✹ Elrond

Almost the same case! He hugs if you ask but… he may feel little caught off guard - he knows that he is quite affectionate (I bet he used to be clingy boy) but sometimes people may find it be annoying.

If he understands that you don’t mind sudden long hugs or cuddles… you must be ready for it! He is going to hug you often - because he loves physical affection too much. Never-mind if you are a lover or just friend.

(I think he prefers to do so when no one sees it because he’s self conscious a little)

✹ Celebrimor

First of all… hardly do you see him when he is not deep in dreams? Definitely he is passionate elf that may get lost in his own ideas even during a dinner. I’m not sure if he is into hugs or not.

But I can tell that if you try to hug him without permission or announce (there is no matter if you are friends or not), he will definitely drop his tool, a stone or scroll just because of surprise.

Will he be angry or not… if it’s not something too important, than he will just coo “Valar, I almost saw Valar! No need to scare me that much”. Or maybe “Ah! You are a little selda!” (Child). And then a quick hug back, just to show that he isn’t angry?

Otherwise - run. He is going to kick you out of his craftroom. Just do it first.

✹ Gil-galad

I see three four scenarios:

First, if you are a citizen of Lindon. Elf. Hugs.

Do you live here? Were you born here? Are your kin? Well, you are his one of his people that he has under his royal wing to take care of so there is the chance to hug him.

He will be caught off guard with the request, but he will be fine. Kings and queens must except that their people may want to hug them, right? He will hug you carefully and gently, as if you were a fragile flower, so that it may felt like a shield. He appreciates when his people love him.

Second, you are his subordinate. Hugs.

Like Elrond or Galadriel.

I suppose, he needs to scold you if it happens little too often.

But it’s not the worst thing, right? One his subordinate is looking for Sauron so much that now her subordinates are almost crying, another helps his friend to steal the dining table. Just do your job.

Third, if You are his lover (second version). Cuddles

Once I took him before but I suppose must add one of funny variations or my head will bomb it soon or later:

He may require hugs in king’s way.

“I require cuddes, as your king I command you”

He doesn’t mind to wait if you have some task. But don’t make him wait too long or he will just (again, if he understands that you are overworking) command again.

Fourth, if you are his friend. Hugs-cuddles.

Have you seen drunk Gil-galad? For some reason I’m sure that he is quite distant when he is sober and the hugs may be little tense. Just a habit. he grumbles that he is busy.

It’s a Rare case, I suppose, that he gets drunk. He is an elf, isn’t he? But it may be so that when you bring a good bottle and you two having fun alone, he may hug you when you are telling a funny story or something really personal. A side hug that may break your ribs haha!

✹ Elendil

This man is strong built like a tower and but he has soul of a dog - so lovely old boy that worries over everyone. (But it doesn’t mean he won’t bark at his puppies children and subordinates when they mess up, of course).

I think he will show soft side to ones who isn’t his subordinate - because you know, he is too worried that they will become reckless. But a shoulder pat or a one-side quick hug to cheer up is in his set of affection gestures.

Also he doesn’t look like a bear, but he has this bear like hugs that can crash ribs, especially if he got a really tense day before that. It shows with whose he loves most even if he tries to control it. So as a lover you may get surprised one day when he hugs that strong.

✹ Míriel

Hugs that are so light but warm that may melt your heart. Smell of papers and ink… aw.

✹ Isildur

One side hugs that may be little awkward especially if he hugs his love but he hasn’t confessed .

✹ Valandil

Gentle hugs that show all his affection. He isn’t shy about feelings - he is sincere bunny. Serious. Very serious bunny.

✹ Ontamo

“Wanna hugs? Aww, come here!”

And you may be picked up by him if you are too small. He isn’t shy as well.

✹ Sauron

Do you really want his attention?

Well… if he needs it to reach his goals, I think he won’t mind even to cuddle and pamper you in the way you want (or to do even something more) but I’m not sure it will last very long. He doesn’t need affection and he sees it unnecessary. So if he can avoid it, he will.

(Galadriel: Halbrand? Brother?

Puss Sauron: For you, baby, I could be.)

Hobbits’ members

Hobbits never walks alone, nobody is left behind. It doesn’t matter if you are a huge human or a halfing - if you are trustful fellow, you will be always welcome. Especially for the guys below:

✹ Elanor Brandfoot and Poppy Proudfellow

I can’t think of them separately because if you are friend of one if them - you get the second friend too.

And you are two often noticed under an apple tree dozing peacefully. You are hugging each other, a small basket with food - mostly apples of course but there are small bags with wild berries - is next to Poppy. You two had a great productive day.

✹ Largo + Dilly + Marigold Brandfoots

Hm… Largo’s hug would be father’s like and definitely he would put into your pocket something edible like a berry or a snail.

Marigold would worry about condition and safety. Her hugs will be gentle but little distracted by her own thoughts.

Dilly seems to be… that always little imp that isn’t that mischievous actually. I think her hugs will be quick and heartwarming.

✹ Gandalf

I think you are more likely to be a hafling, maybe Elanor’s or Poppy’s sibling. When you met each other for very first time, he noticed similarities between you and your sibling/s. Later, if you were brave enough, you came closer and… well, Gandalf wasn’t that brave actually. He was worried to scare you somehow. But soon you grew warm to each other.

So now you can shamelessly ask for hugs (if you are not shy) and he may even pick you up on his shoulders/back to let you have a fruit that is too high above earth or just to have fun. But he is still cations - he doesn’t want to harm you.

✹ Arondir + Bronwyn + Theo

hugs and family tendency

Arondir accepted Theo, so he will accept you as well - no matter if you are Bronwyn’s sibling or child or Theo’s friend. If you don’t show hostility, he will show respect and support back.

Bronwyn loves her son and loves her second child as well- there is no way for competitions, she will do her best so that you both feel loved and get enough hugs and kisses in head. (The Lullaby too)

If you are a friend, it’s the same case like Arondir’s - till you show malicious behavior, you are always welcome.

Theo… hm.

As a pibling you have the pibling right - to hug your nephew Theo and even to pock his cheeks when he pouts. Of course he pouts - after all, he is a warrior!

He doesn’t mind that much. He is just a teenager.

As a peer/sibling he accepts your affection. Just don’t overdo - otherwise he will kick your ass or tickle or something else to make you give more personal space.

✹ Durin + Disa (elf, hobbit) + children

Elf

First… the second trusted elf is in their house, like Elrond.

Durin mutters something like when he hugs his elven friend : “It has been a while! I hope you won’t forget about us with your elvish brain”.

If the elf picks him up, Durin will be grumbling and throwing words “PUT ME BACK NOW I AM NOT YOUT PLUSH TOY”

To Dise’s amusement

When Dise hugs the elf-friend, she is smiling and showing with all her heart that she is happy to see them. Maybe she will squeak in surprise but then laugh.

“You are rascal!”

Also an elf, if they don’t mind children, will be the maim horse of the children (who would refuse to be a horse?)

Durin will chock on his drink when he sees that for very first time.

Hobbit

Hobbits are smaller than dwarfs and for some reason I’m sure that one of them at least once try to pick their friend up - incidentally or for a reason. Their children for sure dare to drag their parents’ friend somewhere and make hobbit to play.

Durin jokes about the height and the fact that his children are as tall as his friend or even taller.

But despite the race they do one thing for sure in two cases - to feed their friend well. And Dise’s argument to put extra portion is almost similar for each other:

- You are a big/small fellow! You need to eat a lot, don’t be shy.

✹ Adar. Hugs. (Almost a drabble lmao)

That’s curious. It’s really curious. Uruks may have ways of showing love, but is there place for affection? How does it look like? Harsh pats on the back? Or just compliments, words of support, that sound so vulgar or rude, that Valar’s creations think they hate each other?

But Adar was an elf, long time ago. Or he is still. Just in different form. In any case, he hasn’t forgotten that completely, expressing it with small rituals. So unnoticeable, like ghost tickles twisted ears.

Tortures mark souls.

So, if you manage to survive and gain his trust or trust of his children (that automatically unlocks his trust) and ask him for hugs for very first time, I think he won’t react at first. Then after a long pause he asks back:

“What?”

“Hugs?”

That’s something strange for him. Someone wants to hug an Uruk. Last time when he hugged someone apart from his children was so long time ago that it almost faded in his mind.

He will ask why with his blank voice. The answer will make him think. About past. About his children. Many things and he may forget about the request. In that moment you can hug him and… again, no reaction. Any reaction.

(We must admit that man needs hugs and psychotherapy)

Maybe after the second or the third time (everytime he gets lost in his memories), he will hug back like he would hug his children if they ask him so - almost emotionless but firm hug. But he isn’t likely to hug you first somewhen. It’s just too long process.

Secret characters!

Finrod, Galadriel’s brother

He seems a tease to me, honestly. To tease you becase you slipped on wet stones? Because of your cute smile or angry huff? He can’t help. After all, to understand what vase contains you need to shake it enough. Not too much, of course - he doesn’t want to loose his friend or even someone more than just friend.

But hugs? He respect personal boundaries and if someone doesn’t want hugs, he won’t ever make someone hug him. And it also includes smaller gestures, but they slip out without his will - adjusting your clothes, taking a feather or other forest things out of your hair, careful you pulling out of the way of danger.

But when you ask for hugs or vice versa, he will hug you gently but firmly, his scent - something really unnoticeable will grip your clothes and skin firmly.

Uruks’ reaction to you hugging Adar:

If someone of his children sees you two cuddling, it will be really funny.

If It’s just one uruk, they will quickly leave to give personal space for Adar. If many see… they might be little self conscious, especially when it’s first time of cuddles. In next time some may dare to cheer and praise. Some of them. Not all. They just don’t know how to react.

They think that dad is kind and wise. No! Not just that - they are sure! But… cuddles? With someone, whom Uruks usually kill or use as a slave?

But later they grow warm to you too despite you acting like an alien for their own taste. Uruks have needs of affection, even if their appearance and manners say otherwise. Just different kind of affection.

Círdan

His hugs full of wisdom’s love. That you may know that this old elf is just the greatest grandpa. Scent of oil, wood and of this soap foam. Interesting, what’s the smell does it have? Herb like? Flower like?

The elven lord that is approachable and handsome aww.

(I apologize for mistakes, English isn’t my first language)

[thetormentita]

all or none (interlude 2: longing)

Hold on to what you have and never let go.

Pairing: Original female! Character x Joel Miller

A/n: poor charlie, babygirl dealing with lots of feelings in a chapter that hadn’t made to be one 😭

Warnings: angst, swearing, pregnancy mention, blood, Seth being a dick as usual, Gail herself (yup, decided to make her be a part of Jackson despite my own initial reluctance. Let’s give her a try, folks), kinda depression here?

Rating: Mature (+16)

Tagging list: @maegelletargaryen @daryltwdixon @mmkkzz @isla-finke-blog

“How you holdin’ up, kiddo?”

The first two days passed in a blur, only getting into the house for sleeping, basically, but the feeling of waking up in an empty bed hurts, and to have silence as the only companion does not help.

“Can’t complain, y’know.” Charlie shrugs her shoulders, trying to look as careless as she can, her eyes betraying her inner feelings.

“Been workin’ really hard, you need a good rest.”

She looks at him, lips tight forming a thin line. The temptation of really talking hard to fight.

“Just wanna keep myself busy, that’s all. If I wanna live properly here, I feel I have to earn it first.”

She doesn’t talk about the oppressing feeling upon her chest the moment she puts a foot into the house and silence is the only thing to welcome her, to accompany her during her time there, a constant reminder of the dangers Joel and Ellie are facing on their way to the Firefly base.

“I was just wonderin’ if you’d wanna come to our place and have some dinner tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure.” She even manages to smile, genuine.

That night Charlie clads herself in the flannel Joel wore the day before the departure and falls asleep hugging his pillow, face buried in it hunting down the light scent of him.

Charlie pushes herself to her limits day after day with one single purpose: get home so tired her mind doesn’t even have the strength to miss Ellie and Joel, only to bathe in worry as she falls asleep, them being the last thing every night and the first every morning.

She has to keep going for them.

She has to keep their home warm for them.

Some coffee, hash browns and scrambled eggs drive her that morning to the mess hall, sitting in a gap out of the sight of the majority, her focus on the meal and the surprising ability of Ol’ Sue to soothe the sorrows of her heart with dishes as meticulous and delicious as Bill.

“Here ya are, sweetie.”

The limping woman approaches her before she can even notice, and a cupcake in front of her softens the façade she has built for the rest of Jackson.

“Thanks, you don’t have to—”

“Gotta eat to do all stuff ya do durin’ the day. See ya later?”

“Of course.” the corners of her lips turn to give the woman a gentle smile. Sue never asked her about why she came with Joel and Ellie and then they left, nor any detail of her life before Jackson; just gives her something to do the very moment she comes into the Tipsy Bison and asks for her.

Charlie eats alone, in silence, fully aware of the mumblings about the woman who came with a group and ended up alone, the woman who tires herself to the extreme with the only purpose of shutting up the ghosts inside her head, the woman who cares too much to even let it show.

…

Tommy and Maria take good care of her. They keep checking on her every single day, always cooking extra to take her something, always any kind of plans on the table, their presence a constant on her life.

“So, how’s patrol? Do you like it?”

Maria had fulfilled her wishes and signed her up for patrol the day after her arrival, Tommy changing the groups for her to fit in, always both of them together.

“It’s interesting” Maria’s soup is good, but not as good as Ol’ Sue’s, or Bill’s. “Different, but I like it.”

“How was it back home?”

Home. The word sounds foreign to her ear. Deep down she only has felt like home the time Joel and Ellie spent with her before going to the Firefly Camp.

“Y’know” Charlie shrugs her shoulders, her hand fighting back the urge to start fiddling with the spoon, “I did it by myself, by foot. Lots of time to think, but kinda boring… This is better, with company and the view.”

Charlie’s lips tense forming a thin line, her will trying to win the battle to get out of there. It is not commiseration what she needs, not attempts to keep her entertained.

“Our girl here’s one of the best” Tommy lands a hand upon her forearm, caring, almost like seeing her as a good friend instead of his older brother’s girl; he seems to not notice her mood, or, if he does, he doesn’t show it. “She’s a natural. I don’t know how we made it without her.”

“Stop it” Charlie chuckles, gently landing a hand upon Tommy’s and patting it twice, her gaze lowering to the almost empty dish. “You’re making me blush.”

“Truly mean it! Sweetheart, it only took us ‘bout two hours to clean the path to the ski lodge. None of those fuckers made it.”

It is not always, because she thinks they don’t want to pressure her, not make her feel bad for not getting the chance to enjoy the closeness they enjoy, but Tommy and Maria use to count with her for things like that one, just to have a nice and peaceful dinner, to try to make her forget for a couple of hours about Joel and Ellie, to have her mind focused on something else. Despite her inner reluctance, she always accepts.

“But what about giving our girl some rest, Tommy, love?” Maria’s gaze lands upon her before continuing, a kind gesture on her face. “How are things at the house? You need some help? I can go with you. Now that I have more free time, we can take all the stuff you guys won’t need and trade it for something useful.”

And next morning Maria is at her door, a package of cookies between her hands and determination flowing through her veins.

Both of them open all the windows of the house, get to wash all the old clothes that were still there at their arrival, clean every single corner of it.

They left it ready.

“So, why don’t we make a list with all stuff you may need?” Maria’s hand goes to one of the cookies as she talks, unworried, almost fresh, sat on one of the chairs of the dining room with a cup of tea in front of her, the aroma filling the space like a soothing balm. The pages of an old notebook found in one of the last patrols Charlie went lie open between them, waiting for purpose.

Charlie scans the room, silent, with thoughtful eyes, resting them on remnants of past lives—a faded photograph, a chipped vase adding splashes of nostalgia against the bare. None of those things are theirs, their owners disappeared long ago, but the feeling of not having the power to get rid of all those knick-knacks lingers heavily.

It reminds her of the house with the white fence.

Bill’s home.

…

Charlie is about to leave the Tipsy Bison when she notices a woman observing her, silent, a ceramic mug between her hands, light blonde hair tucked in a low bun, carefully hold up in place with bobby pins and a comb.

“What do I owe you?”

Seth, that unpleasant man with a constant grunt upon his lips approaches her at the other side of the counter and looks back at the kitchen, waiting a moment before looking back at her again.

“Nothin’.”

Charlie raises an eyebrow.

“This place doesn’t go on with charity, man. Just tell me what the fuck do I owe you.”

She doesn’t want to owe anybody anything. If there is something she has learnt from that old bastard of Bill is that she has to be self-sufficient, independent enough to have no debts with anybody.

But with Seth’s quick look back, his eyes upon the kitchen, Charlie knows that if it were for him she would have to pay for the pancakes and the tea, even double depending on his mood.

Damn woman…

“I will pay it.”

The woman with the bun stands up from where she is, chamomile tea left aside on her table along with a worn book Charlie cannot see the title properly. With quiet pace she approaches the counter, and before Charlie can avoid it, she is taking care of all, ignoring Seth who doesn't protest, merely grunts disapprovingly. Charlie eyes the woman with suspicion mingled with a pinch of gratitude she dare not voice. It is true that in a place like Jackson money is worth nothing, and favors are almost the true currency, but Charlie clearly has a hard time to adapt to it, despite having lived the majority of her life under the threat of the Cordyceps. The woman turns her head slightly, her bun tightly fastened, eyes reflecting a knowing kindness.

She knows that she has promised Maria to go with her around the village in her usual tour, needing an extra hand here and there since she has started showing—her hand swiftly going to her little bump here and there, Charlie somehow attracted and repelled by the idea of that woman pregnant—, but a part of her, deep down, needs to know why the woman with the bun has put her attention upon her.

“Thanks” she says once she has reached the table to which the blonde has returned, a worn out copy of Camus’ The Plague between her hands, “but you didn’t have to.”

The book is closed and gently left on the table as the woman’s eyes observe her with a degree of attention that almost troubles Charlie.

“Seth is a moron. He would have swindled you with pleasure” she gestures as inviting her to sit on the chair in front of her. “Certainly, you Millers don’t stop.”

You Millers. It hurts to hear it, to not knowing if it will ever be literally true.

“I’m no Miller.”

“But you came with Tommy Miller’s brother, have been seen really close to him and Maria and Tommy are almost constantly around you. It may lead to deception.”

“Only thing my mother gave me was a surname. Blackwood.”

“You fit so well with them one would not say” The woman takes a sip from her mug, almost lazily, her eyes never leaving Charlie. “You know what I hate about this place? Gossip. People are curious by nature, and that curiosity leads them to yap about things they can’t even imagine.”

“The fuck you care? Who are you?”

“My name is Gail. Before outbreak day I worked as a therapist in Salt Lake City… Then I came up here with my husband, and Maria gave us a place here” the mention of that single name makes Charlie clench her jaw, her posture stiff as she listens, her mind already racing. “Relax, she told me nothing about your situation. Yourself did every single day.”

“Don’t need your pity.” Charlie spits, bright eyes trained on Gail.

“You show up with people who suddenly leave you here on your own, and to cope with it you work until exhaustion: greenhouses after patrol, stables and then hunting, patrol and kitchens… I’m not the one to judge, and personally I couldn’t care less about your history, but if I know something is that sometimes people need to talk, that’s all, and you seem to really need it” another sip, and Charlie finds herself fighting hard the impulse to storm out of the place. “If you ever need to talk, my place is by the infirmary.”

…

Shit. Shit. Shit.

By the time they make it to the mall, to the frozen yoghurt store, her hands are already shaking, hopelessness threatening to take control.

But she must be brave. She is brave.

Fuck.

She has to be brave. She has to be quick.

She runs through the abandoned store searching for something to patch him up, like he saw him do with Charlie’s arm in Kansas City.

Fuck.

Charlie.

She would know what to do. She always does. It is like a gift of hers, always resourceful. If only they would have grown up together…

She surely hates her right now.

“Fuck! Gimme something!” she grits as she roams through the drawers, almost making an appeal for anything to appear.

And a roll of duct tape does.

She rushes towards Joel lays, both hands upon his body, almost like unconsciously protecting the stab.

“I’m gonna clean up the wound.”

Her eyes go to Joel’s face, far from his usual self.

“Joel?”

He grunts when she moves him, his breath shaking. His eyes half-open when she presses one of the t-shirts they had on the packs against his belly, the pain and the pressure making him wince.

“C’mon, you gotta help me. Come on.”

She doesn’t even know anymore if she is talking to him or to herself.

“Leave” he grunts, voice hoarse, eyes half-lidded. “Leave.”

“Shut up.”

She dips the cloth in the little whiskey left in the flask in Joel’s pack and presses it firmly against the wound, trying her best to control her trembling hands.

“Take the gun.”

“Joel, shut the fuck up!”

She doesn’t even dare to look at him.

But with a strength she doesn’t even imagine he has he grabs her by the collar of the coat and forces her to look at him.

“You go. Go north. To Charlie. Go…”

…

She hates when Maria takes her hand to put it on her bump, each day slightly bigger, but she knows that not a force in the world could make her despise the little life growing in it.

“Maybe you should take a rest.”

“I’m okay.”

She tries to smile but it doesn’t even reach her eyes. It’s been days since the last time she has truly felt it.

“Got any plans for tomorrow? We could just get some girl time, Tommy’ll be training some teens to help by the wall.”

“Sounds nice.”

By the time she closes the door of the house with the porch half mended she feels dirty, powerless. The weight of the promise she made to Joel is harder to handle day after day, and the silence in the room only amplifies the hollowness inside her.

A hollowness that stays with her after a hot shower, cladding herself in Joel’s worn flannel as she uses to do every single day since he left with Ellie in search for a comfort that never comes.

A hollowness that grows up even more when she spots the crumpled envelope Bill left for her back in Lincoln and she refused to read then, unconsciously putting it in her backpack when they left. “Maybe it’s time,” she whispers to herself as she cautiously approaches the dresser where it lies after she emptied her bag the first time she put a foot in that house. With trembling hands she takes it and sits on the wooden floor, a reflex from the times she liked to take a book and read by the porch of Bill’s house, ignoring the chairs there, her butt on the floor and her back against the wall.

When she opens the envelope, a letter and some little draws by Frank await. She knows they are Frank’s because Bill was terrible with the pencil, and because Frank had his own stash of works finished, wanting to give them to Bill or her in special days. Her breath shudders when she sees sketches of Bill and Frank, of her with each of them, her alone with a book, another where she is trying to fix something sat on the porch, and one of Joel and her that makes her hold her breath, the tip of her index finger gently tracing the painted figures, as her lower lip starts wobbling without her to realize it.

Kiddo,

I know you hate us right now, but trust me when I say that I prefer to die with your hatred than live with your pity. I only ask you to spare Frank from it, he has never wanted you to suffer because of him. He can’t stop talking about you, about how proud he is of you and how much he loves ‘his little bugger’.

I love you, girl. I may have been a dick sometimes, but you must know I would take a bullet for you. I have enjoyed every single day we have spent together, and I like to think I taught you to be incredible—but you already were by the time we met when you were little.

You know about the radio codes with Tess and Joel, call them. I know you will probably ignore this because you’re stubborn as hell, but they will protect you. Joel will. I never liked him, not really, and when I saw the way he looked at you I wanted to destroy him, but you were happy with him around. I didn’t like to be the last to know about it, but Frank made me realize Joel would probably do anything to keep you safe. Call him. Go with him or take him here if you want. Let him take care of you.

I leave you everything. Weapons, equipment, all the lousy things we still kept from my mother… You know very well what to do, you showed it a thousand times.

You can do anything, Charlie. Remember that.

I love you so damn much, my cheeky wee cunt.

—Bill

Before she realizes it, a raw sob tears the silence of the house.

It is hers.

Tears fall free down her face as she stands up, helpless, her hands shaking as her feet drag her to the mudroom and she puts on her boots again, throwing a coat over the flannel and the pyjama pants she wears before going out again, numb, crying all the way to the house with the blue door by the infirmary. A trembling fist knocks on the door, the sound dull against the wooden frame.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Charlie tries her best to stop crying, her fingers quickly brushing her cheeks to wipe away the tears.

“Wanna talk?”

[rynneer]

Blood of Durin: The Complete Edition

Chapters 15 & 16

Y/N doesn't know how she found herself in Middle Earth, how she found herself among the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, or how she let herself be captivated by the elder Durin prince-but she does know one thing: she's carrying his child.

Updated weekly, or read the full version here

Chapter 15: Broken Crown

so crawl on my belly ‘til the sun goes down, i’ll never wear your broken crown. i can take the road, and i can fuck it all away—but in this twilight, our choices seal our fate.

-Broken Crown, Mumford and Sons

The commotion on the rampart grows louder as you rush up the stairs, going as fast as your diminished stamina lets you. You arrive at the top with a gasping breath, seeing Thorin already holding Bilbo atop the wall, staring down at Gandalf approaching from the gathered troops.

“If you don’t like my burglar, please, don’t damage him!” he booms. “Return him to me.”

God bless that wizard, you think to yourself. God bless that fucking wizard and his timing.

“You’re not making a very splendid figure as King Under the Mountain, are you, Thorin, son of Thrain?” Gandalf observes.

Thorin looks at him for another moment before letting Bilbo slip from his grasp. Balin and Fíli help him to his feet. The hobbit flings a rope over the wall, Bofur pushing him forward urgently, and scurries down.

“Never again will I have dealings with wizards,” Thorin shouts. “Or Shire-rats!”

You flinch at the venom in his words. Thorin’s eyes find you lurking by the wall. “What?” he demands, storming forward. “Do you have something to say?”

He’s nose-to-nose with you, daring you to defy him. You search his face, hardly recognizing the dwarf who begrudgingly accepted you into his Company, who shielded you from fire and wargs, who welcomed you into his family.

“This is wrong,” you whisper. “This isn’t you.”

Thorin is silent for a moment. “Then go,” he spits. “Go join your kin amongst Men. You are no Durin.”

Though you know his mind is twisted by the dragon-sickness, it doesn’t soften the blow against your heart. The other dwarves look at you in dismay.

After a moment, your face hardens, and you stand tall, standing exactly level with Thorin. “Fuck this,” you say quietly, pushing past him, rougher than necessary, towards the rope. “I’m not dying over a fucking rock.”

He sneers at you and turns on his heel to storm back into the keep. The dwarves pat your arm firmly as they pass, Balin squeezing your shoulders. “Be careful,” he murmurs.

Fíli and Kíli stay put, looking at you helplessly. Kíli grips Fíli’s arm. “Fíli…”

Fíli turns to his brother. They stare at one another wordlessly, then he grabs Kíli’s hair and pulls their foreheads together, whispering something in Khuzdûl.

Kíli nods, pulls back, and wraps you in a tight hug. “Be safe, little sister.” He withdraws and starts down the stairs, turning back one last time before vanishing.

It’s just you and Fíli on the wall now, watching the backs of Thranduil and Bard’s troops as they make for their camp. Tiny flakes of snow speckle Fíli’s armor, and his breath billows out in frosty clouds.

“Now what?” he asks.

Your mind whirls. In the book, the Durin clan dies standing together. In the movies, they die standing alone. I don’t know if I can save them all, you think, but I know I can save one.

“Come with me,” you urge, grabbing Fíli’s arm.

He tenses. “Y/N, I… I can’t just leave him… I’m his heir, the crown prince—it’d be the highest betrayal!”

You lean in close. “He’ll forgive you for leaving,” you whisper in his ear, voice trembling. “But I won’t forgive you for staying.”

“He’s family,” Fíli pleads.

Your heart twists in your chest, but you know you need to hit him where it hurts. You seize his hand and put it to your belly. “We are family too,” you insist. “Please, don’t leave me to raise our baby alone.”

Still, he hesitates.

One final weapon. “Fíli. If you stay, you die.”

Fíli’s eyes widen. “You said you’d never tell us our fates—you wouldn’t change the story!”

Your hold on his wrist tightens to a death grip. “I’m tired of pretending like I’m not part of this world,” you hiss. “I’m done acting like I’m not part of the story. I’m not going to let you die here, Fee.”

A look of anguish crosses his face. Your vision starts to swim with tears as Fíli looks from you, to the rope, to the doorway Thorin had stormed through, to your stomach. The anguish hardens to resolve, and he nods slowly. “Alright,” he says with a deep, shuddering breath. “Alright.” He shifts his belt so his sword is along his back and wraps an arm tightly around your waist, hoisting you onto his hip. “Hold on tight,” he grunts.

You cling to his neck and he grabs the rope, throwing a leg over the wall and slowly belaying down. Heights don’t normally bother you, but you bury your face in his shoulder, unable to look at the ground far beneath you. Your bag sways and bumps against your back with each of Fíli’s bounces downward. The descent lasts far too long, but at last you feel solid earth beneath your feet.

No sooner than you land does a hand seize your collar and pull you into the shadow of the wall. “What are you doing out here?” a voice hisses in your ear.

Tauriel! “I thought you were dead!” you choke out.

She releases you and Fíli, who grabs your upper arm tightly, ready to flee. Tauriel looks down at you grimly. “It will take more than dragon-fire to put an elf of Mirkwood down.” Her eyes shift to Fíli. “So, you abandon your kin, dorn?” [dwarf]

Fíli bristles, but you place a hand on his chest and push him behind you gently. “We need to get somewhere safe. Can you help us?”

Tauriel regards the pair of you with a measured gaze. “Is Kí—is your brother safe?”

Fíli nods, and Tauriel visibly relaxes. She looks back up at Erebor, then across the field in the distance where the white top of Thranduil’s tent is just barely visible in the quickly fading light. “Follow me. Quietly now, and swiftly.”

You make your way across the frozen ground until you come to a halt in front of a pair of elven guards. They seem astonished to find Tauriel standing before them, intact, if a bit charred. Nevertheless, they cross their spears to block your path. “Daro!” they cry in unison. [Stop!]

“We seek an audience with the king,” Tauriel explains.

“The king has no interest in communing with traitors,” one snaps. “Perhaps the gornoth will take pity on your plight.” [dwarves (derogatory)]

“Please,” you beg, stepping forward. “At least let us talk to Bard, or–”

“My goodness, could that be the voice of Lady Y/N that I hear?” A wizened hand sweeps open the tent flap and Gandalf steps out, his eyes twinkling in the torchlight.

“Gandalf!” You duck under the spears and rush forward, throwing your arms around him in sheer relief.

Gandalf seems mildly surprised by the gesture and pats your back. He raises a bushy eyebrow when he notices Fíli, and pushes you back gently by your shoulder. “Does Thorin send you to parley?”

“No, we come of our own accord. To seek refuge,” Fíli adds, indicating your belly. He swallows. You know how hard this must be for the proud dwarf prince.

But as you await Gandalf’s response, it occurs to you now that he has no knowledge of you and Fíli’s relationship, and certainly not of your pregnancy. You hold your breath.

The wizard looks down at you, then back to Fíli with a frown. “Come in from the cold and we shall discuss this… development.” He ushers you inside, where Bard, Thranduil, and Bilbo sit at a small table.

The elven king is on his feet immediately. “Why have you brought a–” but his demand ends in a sputter when Tauriel enters behind you.

She meets the king’s eyes steadily and dips her head. “Your highness.”

A small smirk crosses Fíli’s lips at Thranduil’s stunned face.

Gandalf brings forward a small chair, gesturing for you to take a seat. You do so with a grateful smile. Fíli moves behind you and rests his hands on your shoulders. You take one with a squeeze.

Gandalf sits as well, leaning forward with his hands folded. “Am I correct in assuming that…?” he waves a hand in Fíli’s general direction.

You swallow hard and nod. “Things… things happened.”

“And what of Thorin and Company?”

“We can reason with him,” Fíli cuts in. “Now that you have the stone, there’s some bargaining power, surely!”

“It’s dragon-sickness, Fee, there’s no reasoning with dragon-sickness!” you snap.

“Y/N?” It’s Bilbo. “Do you know what comes next?”

You frown and dig in your bag for The Hobbit. Thranduil and Tauriel exchange looks of confusion.

“It’s a… power of prophecy, of a sort,” you mumble, thumbing through the pages. “We’re only a few pages into chapter seventeen…” you trail off as a dark word consumes your mind. “Orcs!”

Thranduil leans forward. “What?”

“Orcs. That’s—that’s it, that’s all I can think about—fuck!” You bury your face in your hands. “I can’t see it. I’ve changed the story.” You take a deep breath. “Orcs are coming. I don’t know when, I don’t know how many, but they’re coming.”

Gandalf rises swiftly, retrieving his staff from the corner of the tent. “Then we must be ready. Is there any possibility of reasoning with Thorin?”

You rub your temples. “I can’t be sure. I think he recovers—maybe Fíli leaving will speed it up?”

Fíli flinches slightly.

The wizard nods. “Ready your troops. Be prepared for battle by dawn. We will not be caught unawares.”

Thranduil and Bard offer their agreement, Bard standing to leave for his own lodgings. He pauses, glancing at you and Fíli with a curt nod. “Congratulations.” With that, the archer is gone. Thranduil is swift to leave as well, Tauriel falling easily into place behind him.

“Someone needs to warn Thorin,” Fíli says. He places a hand on the hilt of his sword and makes for the exit, but you snag his wrist. He twists against your grasp, and you hold tight, fingers digging into his sleeve.

“You’re staying here,” you insist.

“I’ll go,” Bilbo says quietly.

Fíli scoffs. “They’d skewer you with an arrow as soon as you’re within sight of the gates.”

“Well, I did manage to sneak in and out of Erebor without a terrible dragon noticing,” Bilbo points out. “I think I can get past a few dwarves.”

The dwarf just snorts in response.

Gandalf eyes the hobbit curiously, watching Bilbo’s fingers fidget in his pocket. “Very well then, Bilbo. As for the pair of you,” he raises an eyebrow in your direction, “I was just about to put on a pot of tea, and I believe Lady Y/N and her little one are sorely in need of some proper nourishment.” He dips his head and ducks out of the tent.

A long, shaking sigh escapes you. You lean against the back of the chair, weariness plaguing your bones. Fili returns to your side and presses a kiss to the top of your head. Then, he separates out a thin section of your hair, carefully beginning to weave it into a braid.

You let out a small gasp, covering his hand with your own. “Fíli? Now?”

He smiles, gently pushing your hand aside and continuing. “If I’m to go into battle at dawn, I want everything to be proper.” The braid complete, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny, wooden bead with delicate etchings.

You take it from his outstretched hand. The wood is rough and unsanded, but you can make out a crude attempt at your and Fíli’s initials in English, as well as runes you vaguely recognize as Khuzdûl.

He folds your fingers around the bead and sinks to one knee in front of you. You blush—you didn’t think your human courtship lessons had taken hold.

His eyes sparkle as he gazes up at you. “Will you marry me?”

Your eyes fill with tears. “Yes,” you whisper.

Fíli grins and takes the bead back, securing it in your hair and kissing it gently. You yank him in by the collar and press your lips against his. He melts into the kiss, fingers tangling in your loose hair.

Applause from the corner makes you pull back with a jump. You had forgotten Bilbo was still in the tent. With a lopsided smile, you stand and push the hobbit out towards Gandalf and the fire. “Give us some privacy!” you chide good-naturedly.

Fíli chuckles and rises as well, pulling you close. He kneels back down, lifting your tunic and kissing your stomach, making you flush even more. “You take care of your amad,” he whispers to the unborn dwarfling. “Adad’s got to go scout out the perfect place for our wedding.” He grins, and you grunt, when the baby kicks.

You sigh again and kneel with him, leaning into his arms. You’ve changed the story so much, the future is dark to you now—all that is left is to place your faith in the strength of the dwarves.

Chapter 16: From Now On

and we will come back home, and we will come back home. home again.

-From Now On (From “The Greatest Showman”), Peter Hollens

Stray shafts of pale dawn light peek through the tent flaps. You haven’t slept a wink, cradling a cold cup of tea in your lap. You’d downed three already, chasing the rush of caffeine to get you through whatever is to come. The others would not hear of you participating in the battle in any fashion. It’s frustrating, though you know in your heart that they’re right—the battlefield is no place for a pregnant woman. Still, you felt a twinge of dismay when Fíli left you in the tent to go practice some battle techniques.

Gandalf sits across from you, stirring his own cup. “So,” he begins lightly, “how long have you and Fíli…?”

You gulp, dreading the conversation in fear of judgment. “Since Rivendell,” you say quietly. “Everything happened so fast. We didn’t know if we’d ever get the chance to have a real life together. But maybe now…”

“Does this mean you no longer seek a way to return to your own world?”

That’s not the direction you expected the discussion to go. “I hadn’t thought of that.” You search within yourself, as if rummaging around in your very soul. “But I don’t think I can anymore—if I ever could.”

Gandalf raises an eyebrow.

“When I first came here, I felt this… this pull within me. As if some part of me was missing, like I left part of myself back in my own world. Like maybe I would wake up back at my campsite at any second. But now, I don’t feel that anymore.” You pause. That’s only partly true, isn’t it? You haven’t felt that pull in a long time. Not since you discovered you were pregnant. Your eyes grow misty. “All of me is here now. I… I don’t belong there anymore.” It’s painful to say aloud.

Gandalf seems to understand your conflicted feelings, reaching out a hand to pat your knee. “I’m sure you will be well looked after here in Middle Earth,” he comforts you. “Fíli seems quite proud.”

You smile weakly. “He is. Kíli too, for his part. I just hope Thorin–”

“Y/N! Y/N, Fíli, where are you?”

A shout rings out from outside the tent. You leap up and dash from the tent, recognizing the voice of Ori. The young dwarf in his ill-fitting armor huffs and puffs as he jogs toward you.

Fíli sheathes his sword, stepping forward and putting an arm out to shield you—just in case. “Ori? What are you doing here?”

Ori bends over, hands on his knees. “Thorin… Thorin wants you back… both of you,” he wheezes. “He… says he’s sorry… wants you by his side…”

Gandalf emerges from the tent. “Has the King Under the Mountain regained his senses, then?”

Before Ori can reply, you hear a tremendous roar from the gates of the Lonely Mountain. The troops of Dáin, who had arrived during the night, raise up their weapons. Even from far across the field, you hear them clearly. “Oakenshield! Oakenshield!” they chant jubilantly.

Fíli looks at Gandalf. “I think that’s your answer.” He dashes into the tent and grabs your bag, looping it over your shoulders. “Come on, then!”

Gandalf stops you with a hand. “Y/N. Are you sure this is wise?”

You swallow. “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” you admit. “But I’m not staying here if I can be with my… my family.”

He withdraws his hand. “Then move with haste and caution, and give my regards to the king.”

You nod, squeezing Fíli’s arm and falling into line behind Ori, who keeps adjusting his helm awkwardly as you make your way towards Erebor. The shadow of the mountain looms over you, and you shiver. Fíli rubs his hand up and down your back comfortingly. “We’re going home for good, Y/N,” he whispers. “I promise.”

You open your mouth to reply, but a rumbling interrupts you. From the north, you see them approaching, armor clanging and weapons beating against shields. The army of Azog.

A look of horror dawns on Fíli’s face. The three of you break into a sprint, as fast as you can manage. When you arrive at the wall, a rope falls down in front of you. Nori’s face peers down from the rampart. “Up, quick!”

You stare at the rope, then up at him, gesturing to your belly helplessly.

Fíli rolls his eyes and crouches down. “Come on,” he grunts.

You wrap your arms around his neck in an awkward piggy-back, clinging on for dear life as he slowly clambers up the wall. Just as you feel like your arms are about to give out, Nori’s hands grab yours and haul you over the rampart. “Welcome back, lass.”

“Where are the others?” Fíli puffs.

Nori waves down to the ground, where you can see Thorin and the rest of the Company at the front gate, their communion with Dáin interrupted by the approaching orc army. A thrill of hope and terror fills your heart when you glimpse Bilbo’s tiny figure among them.

“Y/N.” Fili grips your shoulders and kisses you firmly, fingers running along your courting braid. “I must fight.”

Throat tight, you nod. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He flashes you a smirk. “I would never!” Fingering your bead one last time, he turns and rushes down the stairs into the tower, grumbling something about climbing up the wall just to go back down. Nori follows.

Ori looks at your hair with delight. “You have a braid! And a bead! Congratulations, Y/N!” He chuckles. “Dori owes me—I wagered Fíli would propose before November’s end.”

You smile, but it fades quickly as trumpets sounds below you. The orc army is near now, and the combined men, elvish, and dwarven forces surge forward with a roar, Thorin at the head. A tiny blonde head bobs and weaves through the ranks, Fíli hastening to join his brother and uncle. You lift your hand as if he could see you.

Ori taps your shoulder and thrusts a crossbow into your arms. “Just in case.”

“Aren’t you joining them?”

He shakes his head. “We’re the defensive forces,” he says, puffing out his chest proudly.

Great.

You never realized how loud a battle really was—even though you had to adjust the volume when watching the movies as they bounced back and forth between quiet dialogue and triumphant fights. Up on the wall, it’s mostly calm, though you get the occasional shot in at a few particularly dimwitted orcs who stray too close.

You’re sitting against the wall when you hear it—a loud roar of rage, far too close. Scrambling to your feet, you peer down. At the base of the wall, among a circle of corpses, stand Thorin and Azog. Your heart leaps in your throat. Just like in the movie, just like in your dream, Azog drags Fíli by the collar. Hardly thinking, you grip your crossbow shakily and level it at the enormous orc. But you’re no skilled archer, and this is no ordinary foot soldier; your shot lands at his feet. It draws Azog’s attention, though, and he looks up at the mountain.

You load another bolt, struggling against the draw weight. Ori lends you his strength, and the arrow snaps into place. The distraction gives Fíli enough of a window to stab at the arm holding him, causing the orc to drop him reflexively. Fíli rolls away quickly and springs to his feet, taking his place at Thorin’s side. Kíli is there too, bow already drawn and aimed, but Thorin holds out an arm to stop him. This is his fight.

The dwarven king and Azog circle each other slowly. It’s hard to see what’s going on from the wall—you can’t bear it any longer.

“Y/N! Where are you going?” Ori cries as you sprint down the stairs, dashing through the halls from the tower to the gates.

Snow stings your face, and vomit rises up in your throat at the smell of death all around. You push past it, pressing your back against the wall to remain unseen. I just need to see what happens, you tell yourself. No closer.

Thorin and Azog still haven’t attacked each other, but Azog has gained a flail since you made it down to the battlefield. He spits something in Orcish that you don’t recognize, lashing out with his sword arm. Thorin ducks under the swing, slashing at the orc’s torso. Azog twists away and brings down his flail. He narrowly misses the dwarf and snarls in frustration. Blood spatters the snow from the stab Fíli inflicted.

Your breath shakes. They’re so close, so, so close. With sweaty hands, you raise your crossbow again, aiming right for the orc’s back, and fire. This time your arrow flies true and buries itself in the meat of Azog’s shoulder. He growls and whips around, tiny eyes pinpointing you against the wall. He takes a great, lumbering step forward.

Shit shit shit.

But as the giant orc approaches you, a little hobbit appears from thin air, throwing himself at Azog’s feet and causing him to stumble. The orc barely has time to register what’s beneath him before a blade rips through his chest. It withdraws and plunges through again and again with a fury until Azog sinks to a knee with a bloody gurgle. And suddenly, a jagged line appears across the orc’s neck, and his head drops to the ground with a wet thud. He remains upright for a heartbeat before collapsing.

Thorin plants his boot on top of the orc’s body, breathing heavily and gripping a glistening, bloody Orcrist. He spits on Azog’s corpse and raises his sword with a triumphant shout. “For Thrain! For Thror! For Erebor!”

The raging battle around you pauses, orcs and goblins gaping at their headless general. Somewhere, one shouts, and they start a hasty retreat. Bodies drop among them as elvish arrows pierce their armor and dwarven axes cleave through their helmets, leaving few to escape the battlefield intact.

Thorin lifts his head and meets your eyes. He lowers his sword and begins to approach, but stumbles as Fíli pushes past him in a sprint.

“What are you doing down here, ghivashel?” he scolds breathlessly, crushing you in his embrace.

You cling to him as if your life depends on it. “Saving your idiot uncle,” you choke out.

Kíli picks Bilbo up and brushes the hobbit off, mussing up his hair. “That was stupid of the two of you,” he says with a grin, pushing Bilbo forward. He embraces you tightly as well.

You squeeze your eyes shut against tears.

“Y/N.”

They blink open as Kíli releases you.

Thorin’s face is battered and dirty, blood dripping from a gash across his forehead. “I owe you my deepest apologies.”

Instead of replying, you reach out and wipe the blood away from his brow. “You look awful,” you reply with a wobbly smile.

He pauses, then smiles and claps you on the shoulder. “We did it, Y/N. Welcome home.”

[anaszpan]

[ IMAGINE ] : You are Fili's daughter. When he teaches you to fight, he is very strict and doesn't go easy on you. You wrongly think that he is upset with you and that you will never be good, while he simply does not want you to get hurt.

[ A/N ] : English is not my native language. Don't hesitate to use this idea in your story. The photos / gifs do not belong to me. I do not claim any copyright to them and do not own any. 📷

[ ( ´ ꒳ ` ) ♡ ] : "You’re not focusing!" As I stood on the training ground, my heart raced with a mixture of frustration and doubt. Fili, my father, commanded the space with a fierce intensity that I admired but also found overwhelming. Today was just another grueling session, and as he demonstrated the proper stance for sword fighting, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was disappointing him.

“Hold your sword higher!” he barked, his voice cutting through the crisp morning air like the blade he wielded. “You’re not a child anymore. You need to be strong.”

I nodded but felt a knot form in my stomach. I gripped the hilt of my sword, my arms trembling. “I’m trying, Papa.” I said, hoping to soothe the tension that hung between us, but my plea seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Did he truly believe I would never be good enough? Each criticism felt like a dagger, chipping away at my self-esteem.

The sun hung high, beating down on us as I swung my sword, attempting to replicate the form he had shown me. I stumbled, nearly losing my balance, and instinctively, I glanced at him for approval. Instead, he frowned, his brows furrowing as he sighed heavily. “Again!” he commanded, and I could hear the disappointment laced in his voice.

And then it happened. In a moment of distraction fueled by my frustration, I stumbled, tripping over my own feet. I fell, the sword clattering away from my grasp. The sting of the ground brought fresh tears to my eyes, and I buried my face in my hands, the weight of my failures crashing down around me.

"Get up," he said quietly. There was no reprimand this time, only… concern? It was perplexing and disarming. Slowly, as I pulled myself up, I faced him, trembling and overwhelmed. "You have to learn to rise after every fall," he continued, his voice even. "This… this is where true strength is forged." As we continued, I grew more exhausted, and my movements became sloppy. I swung my sword wildly, and when he deflected it easily, I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs. The more he pushed, the more it felt like I was fighting against the tide, drowning in my own inadequacies.

“Enough!” I cried, dropping my sword to the ground as I collapsed to my knees, frustration spilling over into sobs. “I can’t do this! You’re always so strict with me! Maybe I’m just not cut out for this! Maybe I’ll never be good enough!”

I felt a lump form in my throat, stifling the frustration rising within me. Fili paused, his sword lowered, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes — pain, perhaps? But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “What if I can’t ever be like you?”

The air grew thick with silence. Fili stepped closer, lowering himself to my level. His expression softened, a blend of concern and guilt flitting across his face. “Halwûna*” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “It’s not that I don’t believe in you. I do, more than you can imagine. But the world out there,” he gestured beyond our secluded training ground, “it can be unforgiving.”

“But I can handle it.” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “I want to make you proud. I don’t want to be a burden. I just feel like I’m failing.”

A flicker of tenderness crossed his eyes as he knelt beside me. "You'll never fail. You are my daughter, my strength, my joy, my heir. You belong to the line of Durin." His hands moved to my shoulders, squeezing gently, his warmth enveloping me. I leaned into him, feeling smaller against his sturdy frame, needing the comfort he provided.

He pulled me into a tight hug, wrapping his strong arms around me like a shield. I could feel the steady beat of his heart, grounded and steady. It calmed my racing thoughts, the whispered fears slowly fading in the embrace of my father’s love. “I do this because I care,” he murmured into my hair, his voice steady. “You are fierce; you just don’t see it yet. Every time you pick up that sword, you’re stronger than you were before. You need to believe in yourself, as fiercely as I believe in you.”

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his love seep into the cracks of my doubt. “You won’t give up on me?” I asked softly, my voice muffled against him.

“Never,” he promised, pulling back to look at me with those bright blue eyes filled with unwavering affection. “We’ll train together, and I’ll be right by your side. You are capable of great things, and I will always be here to remind you of that.”

With those words, a flicker of hope sparked within me. Perhaps, just perhaps, I was not as far from my father as I thought. I wasn’t just his daughter; I was a warrior in the making, and I could feel his faith in me becoming a part of my own spirit.

[porphyriosao3]

Day 7 - Family

(Author's Note: this is a continuation of the same scene from Day 6, Mother)

Later, after the roast and potatoes had been served and duly enjoyed, the washing up done, and the evening drinks poured, Bilbo surprised himself by saying "You asked earlier about my family."

Thorin nodded, a cautious expression on his face. Bilbo had been able to tell that the dwarf wasn't certain of his reception with any such question, yet asked them anyway. He loved him more with each passing moment for such thoughtless courage. "I did. My apologies if..." Thorin began, but Bilbo leaned over from where he sat and pecked him on the cheek, causing a flush to rise and the flow of words to cease rather abruptly.

"No apologies needed, silly thing," the hobbit chuckled. "I was only surprised because you so rarely mention your own family. Fili and Kili I know, of course, and they themselves have told me of their mother though you have been startlingly reticent on the subject. Tell me of your mother. I feel I barely know anything about you beyond what I've seen." This was the sort of social bagatelle that everyone in Hobbiton knew how to interpret, and it was Bilbo's startling ill-fortune that the recipient of this statement took it literally. Nodding once, Thorin squared his shoulders and began.

"My family was not as yours. In my childhood, the center of my family was always my grandfather Thror, not my father Thrain. As king, he was... well, you've seen how the dwarves treat their kings. I am told that he was kind to my father and my cousins when they were young. He was... otherwise by the time I was small." Thorin's face had become cold and remote and Bilbo wasn't sure whether to hug him, change the subject, or punch himself in the face for such a clearly ill-advised question. "He was mad. I see that now. I felt that, in my own way, when the gold took... took..." He shuddered and Bilbo resolved the matter by throwing his arms around Thorin before he even thought about it.

"Forget I asked," Bilbo said. "You are past all that now, my love, and I am here, and you are here, and none of those problems are here with us." Thorin smiled over at him, still with a hint of that distance in his eyes.

"No, it is right that you know. You were right to ask. I am not proud of the history of my close family, but if you are to be tied to me, you should know of these things. My grandfather was gold-sick before ever the dragon thought of us at all. Losing the mountain... unhinged him completely. He was raving as we fled, shouting curses at all of us as we carried him away from the ruin of our home." Thorin sipped his wine, hesitating for a moment, and Bilbo ached for the pain in his eyes. "He left us all one night. Slipped away with only a retainer from where we all slept in Dunland. He and Nár went to the gates of Moria, Khazad-Dûm, the original kingdom of our people, lost these thousand years to orcs and evil, and we were told he went inside alone. His head was flung from the gate by orcs not a day later."

"Thorin..." Bilbo shuddered, the image clear in his mind. "That's terrible. I'm so sorry."

"That event began the War of Dwarves and Orcs. Stupid name, but it was a stupid war that never should have started." Thorin glanced down, mouth a tight line. "My grandfather's madness and hubris embroiled us all in a vendetta that slew far, far too many. The orcs died by the legion, but so what? Dwarves died too, good dwarves, for whom there was no reward possible to claim. Even if we killed every orc in the entire world, still we could not return. Durin's Bane was still there."

"Durin's... Bane?" Bilbo said, hating to ask but curious nonetheless.

"We don't know what it is, but some great evil came up from the depths long ago," Thorin sighed. "It slew dwarves by the hundreds by itself. We have only records of fire and darkness that walk with it, but it remains. While it is there, we cannot return. Legend says Durin himself will come one last time to lead us back, but..." he shrugged. "At any rate, my brother Frerin died in the last battle. My father lost his own wits. My mother..." he stopped, tears running down his cheeks.

"Oh Thorin... Lady of the Green, I'm so terribly sorry," Bilbo said, cradling him as best he could. "None of that is your fault, though. So your mother died in that battle along with your brother? I didn't even know you had a brother," Bilbo murmured.

"No," Thorin snorted, "she wasn't there. We try our best to keep our women off the battlefield if we may. There are too few already. No, my father took my brother against her wishes. She was pregnant and about to bear... a fourth child would be," he grimaced and shrugged. "The best omen. Dwarves are not very fertile. My mother knew my father had to go, he was the king, but my brother... he was far too young, just a pebble practically. Far too young. My mother died in childbirth as my brother died to orcs. My sister has never forgiven our father, and likely never will; I cannot say for certain she does not blame me as well, in part, though I was only the heir."

Bilbo's mouth set firmly at the very idea. "If she is anything like the dwarf I understand her to be from her sons, she is far too sensible for such a thing," he said sternly. "And I will hear no self-recriminations from you, my dear. None of that coil is your fault, and none of it is anything you should bear the blame for. You, yourself, Thorin Oakenshield, were the one to take a mountain and a home back from a dragon, and you did not cause a tragedy in so doing. You, Thorin Oakenshield, are a hero to your people, and if your family has sinned, well, to me you have redeemed it." He kissed Thorin on the tip of his nose, something that always made the dwarf snort and grin. Thankfully, it produced the desired effect. "I shan't be argued with on this!" he said, wagging a finger somewhat ridiculously.

"I shall not, then," Thorin said softly. Oh why must he look at me like that, Bilbo thought. Just when I think I must love him sufficiently already he makes it even worse. Drat the dwarf! Fine. If he hadn't had a supportive, loving family up until now, he would have one going forward. Belladonna Took's memory demanded it.

[xxskycrystalxx]

The Rings of Power S2 Ep. 8 (spoilers below)

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN HEALER ELROND!!!!!!!!!

The ending of ep.8 being the discovery/arrival at Imladris aka Rivendell had me screaming and jumping with joy. I can't tell you guys how excited I was when I saw that. Fueled by my excitement of Elrond wearing Nenya and going down the path where he becomes one of the best healers of Middle Earth!!

Now that we've gotten to this point, I'm looking forward to seeing the elves establish Imladris and more of Elrond being a healer and a leader (as he was already). There was rlly too little of him in s2. I also hope he gets a chance to truly heal there, because he's been put through the wringer the ENTIRE season and more, like give him a break??? Where is Celebrian when we need her 😭 Also hoping we get more of Elrond and Durin in the next season, because they need to talk and hug it out honestly, and I'm glad Galadriel and Elrond are besties again because truthfully the only smile we've got from Elrond this season was the little one he gave Galadriel at the end. He has gone through ENOUGH!!

Also, Robert Aramayo deserves multiple awards for his absolute stellar and emotional performance this season. He acted his HEART OUT.