#Tolkien knew this I’m sure he did

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

[lovebugism]

eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her

thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.

She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.

So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.

Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window. 

Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand. 

J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.

It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.

“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.

He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him. 

His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again. 

“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.

Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”

“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.

“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”

Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.

A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.

His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”

Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.

This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you. 

You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.

“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.

Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”

“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”

Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”

“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”

You swallow thickly, then nod.

Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.

“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”

“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.

You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.

“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.

He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was. 

The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.

And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.

Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.

“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”

Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are. 

He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.

“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”

Eddie glares at the boy.

He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”

—————

He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it. 

He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him. 

Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure. 

He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.

He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.

Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.

And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.

“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost. 

“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”

He grimaces. “Sorry…”

“’S okay,” you repeat.

“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”

Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”

“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”

“Okay…?” 

“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”

“Using me?” you echo.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”

Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.

“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.

“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”

“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you. 

“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”

He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet. 

You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness. 

“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.

“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”

“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.

You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”

Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.

“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”

“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.

You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”

Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now. 

And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Sauron new physical form for Season 3?

I kind on the fence with this one.

When he [Sauron] felt himself to be secure he sent emissaries to Eriador, and finally, in about the year 1200 of the Second Age, came himself, wearing the fairest form that he could contrive. (Unfinished Tales)

This “fairest form” Sauron could conjure up is Annatar; which we already saw in Season 2.

Overall, Tolkien doesn’t gives us much physical descriptions of his characters. We also don’t know for sure if Sauron took on a new fair form after Annatar or not.

We already saw Sauron in Annatar form wearing a bit of military regalia (breastplate), for when he takes command over the Orc armies and fights Galadriel in 2x08:

About Sauron’s “fair forms” in the Second age:

“[…] he [Sauron] could assume many forms, and for long if he willed he could appear noble and beautiful, so to deceive all but most wary” (The Silmarillion)

“In his earlier incarnation he [Sauron] was able to veil his power (as Gandalf did) and could appear as a commanding figure of great strength of body and supremely royal demeanour and countenance.” (Tolkien Letter 246)

In 2x06, Ar-Pharazôn sees a vision of the Eye of Sauron and Halbrand, when he touches the Palantír. This is the physical form of Sauron, Ar-Pharazôn is familiar with.

Can this mean the Halbrand form will return in Season 3? Possibly.

From what we know from Tolkien legendarium, Sauron might take on this form, again, when he allows himself to get captured by Ar-Pharazôn, because we are told that Sauron humbles himself before the Númenórean king. And what better way to appear humble than to take on the form of a “low man”?

This would also make sense with Sauron’s description in Númenor:

Upon that ship which was cast the highest and stood dry upon a hill there was a man, or one in man’s shape, but greater than any even of the race of Númenor in stature… And it seemed to men that Sauron was great; though they feared the light of his eyes. To many he appeared fair, to others terrible; but to some evil. (History of Middle-earth)

However, I’m not sure Sauron will return to the Halbrand form before this event (which will probably happen in Season 3 finale). Mostly due to this description from Sauron from the War of Sauron and the Elves (Season 3):

Now Sauron's lust and pride increased, until he knew no bounds, and he determined to make himself master of all things in Middle-earth, and to destroy the Elves, and to compass if he might, the downfall of Númenor. He brooked no freedom nor any rivalry, and he named himself Lord of the Earth. A mask he still could wear so that if he wished he might deceive the eyes of Men, seeming to them wise and fair. But he ruled rather by force and fear, if they might avail; and those who perceived his shadow spreading over the world called him the Dark Lord and named him the Enemy; and he gathered under his government all the evil things of the days of Morgoth that remained on earth or beneath it, and the Orcs were at his command and multiplied like flies." (The Silmarillion)

I wouldn’t exactly describe the “Halbrand form” as “wise and fair”. He’s also considered a “low man”, and we are told Sauron takes rule over Mordor by fear and force (military), not necessarily by his usual methods of manipulation and deception.

These are the “Dark Years”, when Sauron starts his conquest of Middle-earth, and he’s now Lord of Mordor and has control over the Orc legions (R.I.P. Adar). The Black Gate and Barad-dûr get built. Sauron wants to show off his power, not conceal it. Every other character is now aware that he has returned and what his goal is (conquer all of Middle-earth). He’s out in the open.

Sauron gives Nine rings of power to Men; warriors, kings and sorcerers. From the legendarium, we know one goes to a man from Rhûn (who will be known as Khamûl, the second in command of the Nazgûl, after the Witch King of Angmar); three to great Númenóreans lords, and the other five ring-bearers are unknown. He gifts the Nine as promises of power, so Sauron most likely didn’t conceal his true identity from them, especially when he’s securing dominion over Middle-earth.

Taking all of this into consideration, I’m inclined to think Sauron might keep the Annatar form until the end of Season 3, and then change into Halbrand to get captured and brought to Númenor as a prisoner (Season 4).

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: Three Is Company

Frodo calling it “Our Birthday” is making me feel things. Oh would you look at the time, it’s Crying About Bilbo and Frodo O’Clock again TT~TT

It’s honestly such a mood that Frodo says to himself “I’m following Bilbo!” so he doesn’t have to think about “I’m carrying a thing of great evil into danger and unseen ends”. Me too, Frodo. Me too.

“And see that Sam Gamgee does not talk. If he does, I really shall turn him into a toad.” 🤣

“Bilbo went to find a treasure, there and back again; but I go to lose one, and not return, as far as I can see.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—

Also “and not to return” is so heartbreaking, especially knowing that by the time he gets to Mordor Frodo is fully expecting to die at the end of his journey TT^TT

“It may be your task to find the Cracks of Doom.” JUST DROP THAT FORESHADOWING RIGHT THERE LIKE IT’S NOTHING, HUH, TOLKIEN??

Also teehee crack

Yes I am a twelve year old boy on the inside, moving on

The local shade towards the Sackville-Bagginses is HYSTERICAL

“Ah yes Merry is looking out for a house for me in Buckland.” INSTANCE #2 OF MERRY BEING ORGANIZATIONALLY GOATED

I’m honestly very impressed by how neatly Tolkien crafted Frodo’s backstory and interwove it into the story. The idea that he’s going back to Buckland where he grew up really does seem credible! None of the hobbits would suspect a thing! I almost have to wonder which came first in Tolkien’s mind, Frodo’s backstory or the fact that he’d need a good excuse to go East. It’s so well-crafted and it makes my writer brain happy.

F in the chat for Folco Boffin; we know your name and nothing else about you

Frodo draining the last of the wine like “lol at least the Sackville-Bagginses won’t get THIS!” is very funny to me

I have said it before, I’ll say it again, Frodo looking in the mirror and going “geez I’ve gotten fat” will NEVER NOT BE FUNNY

“Frodo did not offer [Lobelia] any tea.” I hereby name you Frodo Sassville-Baggins.

Aww, the Gaffer agreed to Sam going to Crickhollow to work for Frodo!

If only he knew just how far he was really going

“…though it did not console him for the prospect of having Lobelia as a neighbour.” o7 for the Gaffer, everybody

And they had tea by themselves and left the dishes for Lobelia 🤣 FRODO SASSVILLE-BAGGINS

“‘Coming, sir!’ came the answer from far within, followed soon by Sam himself, wiping his mouth. He had been saying farewell to the beer-barrel in the cellar.” LOL

Also I can’t blame him, knowing what he’s walking into

“He waved his hand, then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE—

Frodo, whining: "My bag is so heavy" Sam, lying: "I could carry more, sir!" Pippin: "Oh no you don't, let him suffer"

Honestly the dynamic of this trio is super underrated LOL

I'm honestly not sure whether "well, we all like walking in the dark" is meant to be sarcastic or genuine—the way it's repeated later on makes me think it's genuine, but I can't be sure—so just to be safe I'm bringing the Frodo Sassville-Baggins score up to 2.5

I'm taking the time to read the walking bits slowly now, and honestly, the way Tolkien describes the countryside of the Shire is so beautiful. I want to go there, and I want to walk there, and I want to see what the hobbits are seeing. Every little piece of nature and topography elicits an emotion; from the enclosed safety of Hobbiton, cradled in its cozy little valley, to the great fir tree standing guard over the hobbits as they sleep, to the road winding endlessly on before them, promising still more work and beautiful scenery and adventures to come. Is this slow reading? Yes. But I love it so much.

Frodo wakes up and the first thing he does is grumble to himself about his back and neck. He really is an old man. I love him.

Honestly this entire scene is comedy gold

Frodo: "Wake up, hobbits! It's a beautiful morning." Pippin, a literal teenager: "What's so beautiful about it?" ROFLOL

Pippin, literally out in the middle of nowhere: "Sam, draw a bath!"

And for that, Frodo steals his blankets and makes him roll over. Frodo Sassville-Baggins score: 3.5

Pippin: "Water! Where's the water?" Frodo: "I don't keep water in my pockets!" SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 4.5

And then he makes Pippin come get the water with him, since he wants it so badly. I love Exasperated Older Sibling Frodo and I wish we got to see so much more of it.

Pippin, after Frodo randomly bursts into poetry: "Wow, was that Bilbo's poetry, or yours? It's kind of a downer."

I'm so glad they kept the "it's dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door" line in the movies, because it really is so good.

Sam's canonically good hearing returns!

Frodo suggesting they prank Gandalf for being late is honestly so cute lol

Twice in this chapter we get the eucatastrophe of Frodo just barely not putting on the Ring, right at the last second. The first time, the Black Rider just walks off on his own, and the second time the Elves show up and scare him off. I will praise Frodo's virtues 'till Spring turns into Winter, but I think this is clear evidence right from the beginning that Frodo was not, and could not, be saved from the temptation of the Ring by any virtue of his own. He is saved; he does not save himself. All of which is honestly very Christian of Tolkien.

Pippin, to Frodo: "All right, keep your secrets!"

I love the walking song. I might do a revised recording of it, if you guys will tolerate my singing voice again X-D

Can we just acknowledge how bad*ss it is that Frodo sneaks up and spies on a Black Rider, just out of curiosity?? Like, I know this is more a feat of stupidity than it is of courage, but given everything we know about them by the end of the book, that is honestly WICKED cool.

Sam, having to be dragged back by his arms: "ELVES! ELVES!"

GILDOR!!

GILDOR MY UNDERRATED BESTIE

I can't wait to draw Gildor. He's gonna be so PRETTY

"But we have no need of other company, and hobbits are so dull" is so funny tho

The Elves, with all the love in their hearts: "You can't sit with us, you're boring!"

FINROD MY MAN

I have not read the Silmarillion, but I know enough about it to know that Finrod is the G.O.A.T.

The Elves: "You're being followed by Black Riders?? Okay you're coming with us now"

Frodo speaking the High-elven tongue like a NERD

I love him

And Gildor immediately like "LOL y'all watch your language, the babies can understand us!" I love him dearly

....Okay wait I have a thought about the hobbits walking with the elves until they nearly fall asleep on their feet. A thought about soldiers and Tolkien's experience in war. Wait. I'm gonna have to make a post about this.

Eyyyy it's the Turin constellation!

Something about the Elven hall did indeed become a core memory for young Lady Glasses. I spent quite a few years building a fantasy world that would capture that sense of mysticism and wonder. Just like Sam and Pippin, I never really remembered the details, but the emotion stuck with me, and it enchanted my imagination.

The Elves bringing out a Thanksgiving feast and saying "sorry we don't have better food" is like going over to your friend's immaculately cleaned house and them saying "sorry for the mess"

Frodo speaking the Elves' language and charming them all is so cute

Sam falling asleep at Frodo's feet as he talks to Gildor is SO CUTE

“At last Frodo asked the question that was nearest to his heart: ‘Tell me, Gildor, have ever you seen Bilbo since he left us?’” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT—

"My faithful Sam" UGH THE FEELS

Gildor: "But it is said: 'Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.'" Frodo: "And it is also said, 'Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.'" HAHAHA GETTIM FRODO

SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 5.5

Gildor saying "you don't need to understand the Black Riders, just stay away from them" is honestly very Christian of Tolkien too. The best spiritual warfare advice I've ever heard is "don't try to understand demons; just get as close to your Protector".

Anyway Gildor complimenting Frodo is very cute and that is all

[yeesandhaws]

guess who just finished TROP s2 and has a lot to say about it (specifically the last episode)?

that's right, yours truly. (these are just thoughts in the order i remember them in tbh this lacks organization it is PURELY a rant). also, i'm NOT a tolkien purist by any stretch. i just started reading the silmarilion (literally today) and i'm not super picky about media so whether or not this story is at all accurate to what he's written, i enjoyed it nonetheless and don't want to hear about "oh but it's not accurate to-" it's a loose adaptation. obviously it's not gonna be accurate to the book. i'm sure the book is great. that doesn't mean this show wasn't good too. get over it. anyways, with that out of the way, here are my actual thoughts. also warning for spoilers (duh) but also this came out a good bit ago so like... i'm the one behind the curve here.

first off, i somehow managed to not cry when celebrimbor died! not at all out of lack of sorrow, i almost vomited 4 times over the course of the scene. most likely my lack of tears was because i knew it was going to happen - in a way i'm happy they did not spare us the details of celebrimbor's death and made it just as cruel and horrific as it ought to have been (and no offense, but to anyone who actually still finds sauron hot after this season and in particular s2ep8, what in the actual hell?) but also like... HE SAID IT!!! (and by it i mean "lord of the rings"). celebrimbor died an honorable death, despite the suffering he endured, and that i respect so greatly. i may cry myself to sleep over him, who knows? his suffering hurts me on a deep, deep level. do i have a new comfort character? perchance.

secondly, the burning of the texts of celebrimbor actually sickened me to my core yet again! lots of things in this episode that sickened me to my core, lots and lots. the sheer scale of destruction was actually portrayed so well, watching this city i grew to admire and love so dearly get completely razed was so so agonizing! but that one scene in the battle with that one elf who was super cool until he got shot down like 5 seconds later? excellent cinematography there (at least to the eye of a layperson such as myself)

and speaking of fighting and whatnot, ELROND IS SO FINE!!! i did not think i'd find TROP elrond pretty or hot or anything ever! and yet, upon seeing the man fight (and god knows getting a man all bloodied and bruised does wonders to my heart - also his CURLSSS LIKE AUGH--) and absolutely COOK in the battlefield, my opinion has been swayed, let's just say. and I’ve always loved elrond as a character despite his flaws (like i know it was pretty lame of him to just let isildur walk away with the ring, and by pretty lame i mean REALLY lame. but i support elrond rights and wrongs, and hopefully they give reason for this in the show? maybe there was already reason in the books and i just forgot? it’s been a hot minute since i read LOTR). i think he is just such a bright soul and not just pretty but also smart and very helpful, i feel like he compensates for his mistakes by actively mending bridges and being cool and understanding and wise - also, upon seeing his misery over the destruction of celebrimbor’s work, i feel even more endeared towards him and his bookishness and just vast knowledge he possesses, like it makes so much sense why he seems to thirst for knowledge so, after seeing it so cruelly destroyed in front of his eyes? maybe I’m over analyzing but i like my take on things. anyways, i could go on and on about him in both LOTR and the hobbit (books and movies) and why i think he’s awesome sauce but ok that's enough fangirling over elrond. back to my rant.

third off, ADAR??? like i knew he died because spoilers or whatever but my god. ohhh my god. his entire character has me agonizing over what-ifs of peace and harmony and i never thought i'd catch myself dead feeling bad for this guy because yk evil but NO! NOT EVIL! and his death was so tragic! his babies killed him! i was really starting to feel for the uruk but NAHHHH. it struck a very similar chord to boromir's death in the movies when he's like, "the little ones--" LIKE THE SAME SORT OF JUST DREADFUL SORROW FLOODED THROUGH ME! to think that there truly could have been peace, to think that it all could have been so vastly different. i don't want to think about it, it'll enrage me and make me sad. the light of power calls to those with weak minds and burns those who try to resist it or something, idk what i’m on. but adar’s death is representative of a lot of things. real world things, specifically. so of course i'm thinking about it because what's life without a lil doozy to cry yourself to sleep to?

what DID make me tear up, corny as one may consider it, was the whole poppy speech at the end of the episode, and what made me properly cry was the gandalf and tom bombadil (my darling) singing. cathartic as hell. i'm a sucker for corny cheesy stuff. but also like it is LITERALLY halflings, gandalf, and tom-mfing-bombadil, the most whimsical beings in middle-earth. they have the right to be cheesy, and we all have the right to enjoy it. tolkien songs always make me cry, though. always. i’ve got personal lore with them. and on the note of the ending, i kinda wish it had just ended with the singing scene, because while i understand the end serves its heroic elvish cliffhanger purpose, there was a certain LOTR-ness to the song that was honestly more hopeful than the actual ending scene. i love sappy endings. that much is obvious.

to be quite honest, neither the arondir and isildur subplot nor the numenor subplot were very good or entertaining to me. i dunno, i found myself bored. but, maybe upon the father-son reunion of elendil and isildur some stuff will happen? like obviously stuff will happen because of the plot but it was just frustrating watching all of the numenor drama and the weird romances in the arondir and isildur realm - not to be a hater but i was SO disinterested. also so very infuriating watching numenor fall into the hands of pharazon. i’m sure that frustration was the goal but at the same time it’s just ANNOYING also given the fact that we know elendil dies and isildur messes up, it’s just annoying watching them being all noble and whatnot only to know that elendil just dies and isildur for all his nobility in the show, succumbs to this desire (and i understand, i do, but it’s just dreadful and sad).

either way, berek is my favorite TROP horse and i love his roman nose. and speaking of horses, moment of silence for elrond's horse. he was SO justified for raging upon the horse’s death. he is a horse girl, and that is something i can relate to deeply.

aaaand i still have more to say. rest is for the weak. one thing that kinda annoyed me was the whole durin thing. i LOVED the corruption with the ring, i loved watching the fallout of that. but i think the thing this show struggles with is keeping the sort of… for lack of better explanation, corniness, at bay. there is a time and place for everything. gandalf and tom have the license for it in my mind, as a bit of silliness is part of their charm. but the whole, “i never let you win the arm wrestles” thing before the balrog swallowed up durin the second (i think he’s the second??) was just SO contrived. but i also am a bit of a hater sometimes, so maybe that’s just me. also let’s be so for real idk how mountains work but i feel like with the amount of thrashing about that balrog did, there’d be some more damage to khazad-dûm as a whole. but again, idk how mountains work in that much detail, and i am MORE than willing to partake in some suspension of disbelief to keep the plot chugging along. that being said, i adore prince durin and disa (MY QUEEEEEN AHHH), and i also adore durin and elrond. i adore elrond generally but also like durin and elrond are so sweet and lovely i adore their bromance. it was frustrating to watch them show up at the tail end of battle and do kind of nothing but also i get it :(

and now i get to talk about sauron. god, i’ve always hated him and luckily never even found the appeal of halbrand, but now? i’ve unlocked new levels of hatred never seen before. listen, listen, i knowww people like their sexy villain, but sexy is as sexy does, and sauron does not do sexy things. i know it’s a deliberate choice to make sauron an ‘attractive’ character, and that is conveyed really well in the show! but as an audience like GUYS HE IS NOT FIXABLE. YOU CANNOT FIX HIM. HE IS PURE EVIL. please, let’s not try to give him an inkling of redemption. he doesn’t deserve it. i didn’t really jive with the whole galadriel/sauron thing that was going on, but i think the show did a good job of portraying it in a way that wasn’t actually hot and rather disturbing! like they did SUCH a good job of exposing what a conniving, manipulative (pardon my french) bastard sauron is - like the dialogue was something straight out of those PSAs i had to watch in my health class talking about abusive relationships. it was perfectly infuriating, watching sauron gaslight these brilliant minds and genuinely good-intentioned people into mere tools for his will.

and speaking of those mere tools, CELEBRIMBOR AND SAURON. they may in fact take over my entire being. silvergifting genuinely sickens me (in a good way) to my very core because here we have two characters who matched each other’s freak PERFECTLY while still being so damn awful for each other. like i’ve said in previous posts, the genuine anguish i felt watching celebrimbor’s light and genius and genuine enthusiasm for both halbrand and his work turn into something like obsession, turning him into a mere lapdog for this “lord of gifts,” and ultimately watching his suffering to escape this mental (and physical) bonds placed upon him only for his life’s work. in a sense, to be completely obliterated along with him was something that actually shook me to my core. obviously he lives on through legend and memory, but the contrast between the elf he was and the elf he became by the end of it all was just so so so so so sad. again, celebrimbor being my newfound favorite in a sense only further fuels my hatred for sauron. he tarnished a mind so bright as the stars and a heart so pure as them too, using celebrimbor’s want for a magnum opus against himself, convincing him that the blame was his — to me, this was a genuinely enragingly good portrayal of the abuse sauron subjects his victims to, treading the line of seduction and cruelty. and yet, one thing that celebrimbor said in his dying breaths really stood out to me. “shadow of morogth.” now i do not know a lot about the lore yet, but to me it is just so very powerful that sauron is considered but a shadow of a much more powerful evil. i don’t think the tears he shed after killing celebrimbor were out of guilt, per se, but rather because he knows that in the eyes of those who he wants to instill fear into, he will always be second place. he will never be the most feared, for even his name cannot be spoken without mention of his master. a much deserved curse, if you ask me. also, little silvergifting-minded of me, but I’d like to think that if sauron really was crying tears of guilt, it was because he lost the mind that understood the same thirst for perfection that he wanted. celebrimbor and sauron, both masters of their craft and striving for perfection, for a legacy. if i had watched arcane I’d say they’re slightly jayvik coded (at least with sauron as halbrand) but more toxic, but I haven’t seen arcane so i don’t know if that is a correct comparison at all.

holy mother of god, get me a PHD in yapology with the amount of stuff i’ve managed to say. anyways, overall, i really liked this show. despite its certain flaws and lackluster plots, i found it super enjoyable. feel free to leave your takes in the comments or whatever, i have so much to say

[middleearthpixie]

I'll See You in My Dreams ~ Chapter Seven

Summary: Noelle James knows soul mates exist, the trouble is, she just can’t seem to find hers. Especially since hers seemed to have existed only in the world of cinema and The Hobbit movies. No one believes she actually spent time in Tolkien’s Middle Earth and even fewer believe Thorin Oakenshield existed in her world, either. 

So when she finds herself unexpectedly alone on yet another Christmas, she has no way of knowing exactly what the universe has in store for her this time.The trouble is, this man claiming to be Thorin can’t possibly be him, for he died at the hands of Azog the Defiler at Ravenhill. She saw him die with her own eyes.

So, it can’t be him.

Or can it?

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Noelle James

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.8k

Richard Amhearst smiled from the opposite side of the door. “I take it you didn’t tell your doorman we’ve broken up.”

“It’s never come up, no. Especially since I was pretty sure you wouldn’t be knocking on my door any time soon after,” she managed, her heart resuming its pace once more. “But what are you doing here? I mean… it’s really not a good time.”

“I won’t stay long,” he flashed her the same charming smile that had thousands of women around the world fantasizing about him, “I promise.”

He stepped toward her as he spoke, only to have her block him from the doorway. “Seriously, Rich. Why are you here and don’t give me some bullshit answer, okay? Because I’m not in the mood for some bullshit answer.”

Rich stepped back, his sapphire blue eyes wide with surprise. “Are you seriously not allowing me in, Noe?”

“Not unless you tell me why you’re here. I have company, Rich,” she told him pointedly, “so now is really—”

“Noelle, who is at your door?”

She winced as Thorin came up behind her and Rich’s eyes widened further. She wondered what Thorin’s expression was as he asked, “Who is this?”

With a low sigh, she forced a smile and stepped back, opening the door wider as she replied, “Thorin, this is Rich Amhearst. Rich, this is Thorin Durin.”

Both men simply stared at one another for a long moment while Noelle held her breath. She couldn’t explain it but in Middle Earth, Thorin was only slightly taller than she was, however, here, in her world, he was very nearly the same height as Rich, who stood at nearly six foot three. She didn't want to think about what would happen if one should throw a punch at the other. 

To her relief, Rich held out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you… Thorin.”

Thorin stared down at that outstretched hand, then back up at Rich. Without glancing at her, he said, “This is the one who followed me?”

“Followed you?” Rich let out a snort of laughter. “Noe, where did you find this one?”

Noelle winced again as Thorin visibly stiffened. “I beg your pardon? No one found me. I knew exactly where I was going and I was not lost in the slightest.”

“Okay,” Noelle slid between both men, who now glowered at one another, “we’re not doing this now. Rich,” she looked over at him, “what do you want? For real.”

“I was in town for a few days, we’re shooting in Central Park, and I thought it might be nice to have a bit of a catch up. That’s it.”

“Shooting what in Central Park?” Thorin turned his steely gaze to her. “I thought you told me weapons were not allowed in public spaces? Isn’t that why you made me leave Orcrist behind?”

“No, he means something entirely different, Thorin.”

“The Orcrist?” Noelle bit back a groan at the disbelief in Rich’s voice, and she knew what was coming even before he said, “The sword from The Hobbit?”

“My sword,” Thorin growled, “yes.”

“Wait, are you trying to tell me you think you are the dwarf from the Tolkien story? That Thorin?”

“I think I am?” This time it was Thorin’s turn to snort. “I do not think it, I am he.”

“Of course you are. He’s a fictional character, but let’s pretend for a moment you are him. Noe,” Rich turned to her, “you don’t believe this, do you? You must know how mad this sounds.”

“You know what? Let’s not do this with my front door open, okay?” She grabbed Rich by the wrist and tugged him into her apartment, then closed the door. “Now, both of you, knock it off. I am not about to stand here and listen to you two argue over who’s got the bigger dick, got it?”

In unison, they replied, “Who’s arguing over that?”

“Holy fuck…” A dull headache took root behind her eyes. “Enough, both of you. Rich, just tell me what you want already? This is ridiculous.”

“And I told you, I thought it might be nice—”

“To have a bit of a catch up, yes, I got that. But, why?”

“I was here. It’s the holiday season, and I thought you might like some company instead of being alone.”

“As you can see, she is not alone, but has me for company. So you obviously have no reason to be concerned.” Thorin turned to her. “Is this the one who came after me? As you would say to me, are you for real?”

Any time Thorin tried to use modern expressions made her smile and this was no different, despite her irritation with Rich. “Yes. But remember, you were dead.”

“I was not dead.”

“Wait, what?” Rich looked from her to Thorin and back. “Have you both gone mad? I mean, you have to know just how insane you both sound.”

“No. No one is mad.” Noelle sank onto the arm of the sofa. “I know it sounds crazy, Rich. I thought the exact same thing when I first met him, but he is real. You’re looking at him.”

“Well, of course I am, but it simply isn’t possible.” At her long look, Rich quickly amended his words. “I mean, I suppose it must be possible, but how?”

“That’s the million dollar question.” She managed a smile at Thorin’s creased forehead. “The big question.”

He gave a subtle nod while Rich asked, “How long has he been here?”

“Since yesterday.”

“For the second time,” Thorin added. 

“Wait…” Rich just stared at him. “What?”

“He was here before you and I met.”

“You came after me.”

Rich shot him a look. “I believe you already mentioned that.”

“You can ask Science Man, if you chose not to believe her.”

“Science Man?” Rich looked over at her. “Does he mean Ian?”

She nodded. “That’s what he calls him. It’s a long story. And I can’t even tell you to ask Ian about the last time he and Thorin shared space. He doesn’t remember it. Or if he does, he refuses to admit it.”

“Wait,” Rich held up a hand, “let me see if I’ve this right. He was here years earlier and he met Ian, but Ian doesn’t remember it? You’ll forgive me if I find it difficult to believe anyone would forget meeting someone who claimed to be from one of the most famous works of literature in the English language.”

“I know. It’s crazy, right?” Noelle clasped her hands and let them settle between her knees. “But, it’s also true. And it was only three years ago. When I met you on that plane… it was only a short while after he’d died at Ravenhill.”

“I didn't die, mesmel,” Thorin corrected softly.

“I know, but for all intents and purposes, I didn't know, so you were dead.”

“Ravenhill…” Rich’s eyes went wide. “Noe, you understand how insane this sounds, don't you?”

“Oh, trust me, Rich, I am painfully aware of it.” Noelle couldn't hold back her rueful smile. 

“So, indulge me, won’t you?” Rich sank into the armchair on the far side of the sofa, where he must have seen Orcrist propped, for he did a double take before looking back at her. “Is that—never mind, forget it, I’m not even going to ask.”

He paused, drew in a slow breath, and then went on, “You and—and Thorin here knew each other three years ago. And you, Noe, were at Ravenhill when he was killed by that pale orc. Like in the movie?”

She nodded, the images slipping to the forefront of her mind as powerful as they had been when they actually happened. “Yes. He fell into this world, by Turtle Pond in Central Park and then when he went back to Middle Earth—stop looking at me like I’ve gone totally nuts, Rich—I ended up falling to Mirkwood and traveled with him and the Company all the way back to Erebor. I was there for all of it. The barrel river ride. The inferno at Laketown. I hit a guy in the face with a freaking frying pan, Rich.”

“Flattened his nose, if memory serves,” Thorin added. “It was impressive, really.”

“Thank you.” Noelle smiled briefly, then looked back at Rich, who just stared at Thorin in disbelief. “I was there for all of it. Every single scene from Mirkwood to Ravenhill.”

Her throat tightened then, her fingers curling into her palms as the memories grew more painful. Such as the one of her and Thorin on the golden floor in the Gallery of Kings, wrapped in his fur cloak, both trembling from the aftershocks brought about by incredible makeup sex.

Probably best to keep that to yourself.

She swallowed hard. “I ended up back by Turtle Pond when the battle was over.” 

Now Rich stared at her as if she’d completely lost her mind. “Noe… you… are you pulling my leg?”

“She isn’t touching you.”

Noelle bit back a laugh as without hesitation, Rich said, “I meant, joking.”

Both men looked over at her again and she shook her head. “I’m not joking, Rich.”

He just stared at her for a moment, then, his eyes went slightly wider. “Wait… when you say I came after him, does he mean…”

Thorin sank onto the sofa alongside her, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. “I do, indeed.”

Rich just stared at her for a long moment. “So, tell me, is that why you ended our engagement?”

“Engagement?” Thorin looked from her to Rich and back. 

“We were to be married.”

As his fingers tightened on her, she said, “No, Rich. He had nothing to do with it. We were already broken up for weeks before Thorin came back.”

“It would explain your change of heart.”

“He only showed up here yesterday. We broke up before Halloween.”

Rich said nothing for a long moment, just tapped his slender forefinger against his knee. “How long was he here before we met?”

“Does it matter?” she asked softly. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I don’t suppose it does.”

Thorin’s hand relaxed. “So, I suppose you will be taking your leave, then?”

Rich offered up a wan smile. “Noelle, might I have a word with you, before I go?”

Thorin’s fingers tightened once more, leaving her no choice but to pry them from her thigh before she could rise. “Yeah, sure.” 

She felt Thorin’s gaze almost burn into her back, somewhere between her shoulder blades, as she followed Rich back to the door. “So, how about now you tell me why you’re really here?” she asked, tugging open the door. “Because I don't believe for one moment you were worried I was feeling lonely.”

He waited until she’d stepped out into the hallway with him before saying, “In all honesty, I just wanted to… I miss you, Noe. This was the first Christmas we’ve been apart and I realized how much I’ve missed you. How much I’ve missed us. We were good together.”

As he spoke, he reached for her, curving his large hand against her cheek. Once upon a time, the gentle sweep of his thumb would have her eyes wanting to close and her lips lifting of their own to meet his kiss. 

Bot this time, she simply drew away from him. “Nothing has changed, Rich. We both want different things and I—”

“So you’re with him? The guy who thinks he’s Thorin Oakenshield?”

“He is Thorin and I know that sounds completely crazy, but I know for a fact that’s who he is.”

Rich stepped back, arms folded. “You didn't answer the first question. Why is that?”

“Because I don't really know, Rich, and don't ask me to explain because I can’t. It’s way too complicated.”

“Complicated? How so? Either you’re with him or you’re not. How is it complicated?”

“It just—” she drew in a deep breath, “it just is. That’s all I can say.”

“But you’d rather be with him than with me? With all I can give you, you’d still rather be with him.”

“I don't expect you to understand,” she told him softly, shaking her head, “and like I said, it’s way too complicated to explain. But, yeah…”

He said nothing for a long moment, his eyes growing colder as he just stared at her. “I see. Well, I guess that’s that. He can have you and I am a fool for thinking you might wish to work this out.”

“There isn’t anything to work out.”

“No, I daresay there isn’t. And that’s too damn bad, because you knew you meant everything to me. With him, you don't even know if you’re together.”

“Rich—”

He spun and started toward the elevators. “I wish you both a happy life. If you can actually figure out what sort of life you have with him, that is.”

A sharp retort rose to her lips, but she swallowed it as he reached the elevator bank and jabbed a button. The down arrow glowed green, the doors slid open and he stepped into the car. He faced her then, and didn't break his stare as the doors slid shut. 

The retort became yet another sigh as she sank against the wall. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Rich, as their breakup had been mostly amicable, but since she didn't think she’d be seeing him again, she tried not to dwell on it. He was a good man, after all, and would make someone a great husband. It was just that she was not that someone. 

The door opened. “Has your friend gone?”

She winced at the low growl of Thorin’s voice. “He’s gone.”

“So, that was the one who came after me.”

“Yes, Thorin.” She turned and met his gaze. “He’s the one who came after you. I’m pretty sure we’ve already established that. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back inside and just pretend this didn't happen.”

He pushed open the door and as she passed by him, asked, “Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you wish to pretend this never happened?”

“Are you serious?”

“Have you known me to be anything but serious?”

“There’s a first time for everything, you know.” 

She stepped back into her apartment, which was warmer than the hallway had been, moved to sink onto the sofa, and reached for the remote to turn on the fireplace. As it glowed to life, she set the remote back on the coffee table and let her head fall into her hands. Rich had been there less than an hour, but she was as drained as she’d been the night they broke up for good. 

The floor creaked softly behind her and Thorin said, “Would you rather be with him?”

He spoke softly, but there was no mistaking the emotion in his words, as if he feared her answer would be yes. She gazed up at him over her shoulder, shaking her head. “No. No, I wouldn’t, Thorin.”

“Are you certain?”

“I don't even have to think about it. I just—”

“You just what?”

She sank against the sofa cushions. “I wish I knew what the rules were for us, because I really don't think I can ignore just how much I want… you…”

To her surprise, he smiled. “I don't think I can ignore it, either.” 

“But we have to ignore because if we sleep together, you’ll be zapped back to Middle Earth and I’ll be here and I cannot do that again. I just can’t.”

“What if that doesn’t happen, though?”

“But what if it does?”

“Noelle,” he leaned forward, looming over her, his dark hair spilling over his shoulders, “what if—”

“I’m not taking the chance, Thorin.”

She pushed up from the sofa, shaking her head. “I don’t know how else to convince you that I just won’t.”

He skirted the sofa, stepping in front of her. “But we don't know what will happen.”

“Thorin—”

“We don’t.” He caught her face in his hands, and her heart skipped a beat as his eyes met hers, softening as he held her gaze. “We don’t.”

“We do.”

“You are just as stubborn now as you were when we first met, do you know that?” he murmured, then bent to her before she could reply, his lips finding hers to silence her with a soft kiss.

It would be so easy to fall against him, to wrap her arms about his waist and just surrender to his kiss. 

And that was exactly what she did.

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[sunnyshinesunshine]

Okay so I’ve finally solidified my opinion on The Rings of Power and given that it is my opinion it is therefore very important and I’m sure everyone is dying to hear it (this is sarcasm)

I’ll start by saying I’m not a critical person when it comes to things. I consume media to enjoy myself, not to pick apart its literary or thematic flaws. It’s fine if you do, but that’s just not me.

I will also say I’ve never read the Fall of Númenor as its own story, so any Tolkien primary sources I’m vaguely alluding to (this isn’t a research paper been there done that got the high school diploma I bake cookies for a living I ain’t citing shit thanks <3) are the Silmarillion, LoTR, and The Hobbit.

I didn’t like TROP for the first season, but after catching up on S2, I’ve come to enjoy it.

S1 is the full of world building, setting up the political stage and the relationships between the characters that lead to the creation of the rings and all the other bad hullabaloo that ends in the Last Alliance.

Safe to say, I spent the whole time going ‘what? why is he/she/them saying/believing/acting like this? why is it/this portrayed like this???’ and felt very irked by the whole thing.

S2, the rings are being created, familiar events start happening, the puzzle pieces from S1 that were so unfamiliar and bothersome to me then come together to create a picture that I knew.

Once I got to thinking I realized I actually know a whole lot less about the fall of numenor and the creation of the rings than I thought I did.

When Tolkien writes about those events, he gives the broad strokes in a very history-book way. Celebrimbor creates the rings because he is deceived by Sauron. Tar-Míriel is overthrown by Ar-Pharazôn and marries him against his will. Elrond is with Gil-Galad as his herald.

These are the things, amongst others, that we know. Unlike in the Hobbit or LoTR, we aren’t given any glimpses into the heads or relationships of the characters in anything other than what amounts to almost a timeline of events.

This, of course, leaves a lot of room for Tolkien fans to ask questions. Questions that can be answered through imagination. Imagination becomes ideas, ideas become discussions, discussions become a collective understanding of what happened (fanon*. I’m talking fanon. please read the note at the end because I think fanon is awesome and deserves to be defended)

For example. We know Celebrimbor and Narvi built the Doors of Durin together and added possibly the most ridiculous riddle password possible.

When the Doors are first introduced in LoTR, it is also in the middle of Gimli and Legolas’ semi feuding, and before both of them have some serious moments regarding their histories and cultures (Khazad-Dûm and Lothlórien respectively).

All of this to conclude that at some point between Gigolas’s inter-species feuding and the password to the damn doors being ‘mellon’, as Tolkien fans, we came to the conclusion that Celebrimbor and Narvi were close friends.

Celebrimbor and Narvi are not really much more than acquaintances in TROP. And that isn’t inaccurate. The source material doesn’t have an opinion on it really.

Fanon says Celebrimbor and Narvi were pals. TROP says they weren’t. Canon doesn’t care either way.

I mention this example to explain why TROP felt so wrong especially at the beginning. Essentially we, or at least I, had this idea of how things should be, and when TROP diverged from that I felt lost and annoyed.

Now, I find watching TROP to be honestly kind of fascinating, like watching someone else painting using a model and comparing it to the painting I had already created of that same model.

It’s kind of fun. And every Elrond deserves all of us cheering him on.

*about Fanon:

I love fanon it’s awesome and great and it’s fucking collective story telling in a way that hasn’t really existed in modern times. Thousands of people from all over the world create and agree and discuss and add on to stories. The marauders fandom is almost completely fanon and that’s wonderful. Every single one of you who share your ideas about characters or settings or clothes or even (especially) who create the elleths who exist in the Silmarillion but don’t at the same time, you are awesome.

You’ve created a story and world together. Without being paid. You’ve agreed and created simply for the love of creation. And that’s so amazing.

Fanon is awesome and I don’t care for anyone who calls it cringe.

[heilith]

Sage Blossoms

Another something for Scribbles and Drabbles 2023, for this stunning piece of art (clicky) by @clumsycopy. This one suddenly grew into a longfic, so yeah...it's just the beginning. Buckle up, have a pleasant ride.

@fall-for-tolkien

Sage Blossoms, Part 1

Miserable and soaking wet.

Half-dressed. And sorely regretful no one was there to hear the cheerful rhythm your teeth were making in vain attempts to meet.

You could do with a laugh.

Or with an embrace.  

The drawbar had always been too heavy for you. You’d never been able to budge it on your own, not with your ludicrous bony hands.

The horses behind the thick oaken door were still raging. You prayed it was not a rat this time. That last incident with a parton’s horse cost the inn twice your yearly wage. You hadn’t had a new piece of cloth on you since.  

The rainwater was meandering down your face, sprouting new and new rivulets. The skin it touched was quickly turning numb.

The smell came first… A strange blend of dead embers and no longer living flesh. For an instant it seemed to you it was oozing from between the doors to the stables.

The thought of fire was far scarier than the thought of rats.

A horse inside let out a high-pitched shriek, making your hair stand on end.

You shrank back and choked on a short outcry at finding yourself locked between a pair of arms, reaching for the drawbar.  

The presence you’d collided with let out a sound, too, a something you could hear coming out of a mouth curled up in self-ridicule.

Strange as it was, it calmed you down.

A dozen years of serving lord and vagabonds had taught you to know a danger at the first syllable it sent in your direction.

The look you ventured at the man did nothing but add to your surmise. If anything, it was his slouching countenance that reassured you completely. That, and his eyes, the best feature on an otherwise unhandsome face.

He was holding your gaze silently, perhaps, waiting for you to be the first to say something.

It was hard to look away, no matter how troublesome a feeling the expression in his eyes was giving you. He knew exactly how much he had scared you, and what measure you had measured him with, and how by now you had no doubts that unsettling smell was coming off him, after all. And he was jeering at you, you could tell it for sure, in a way a wiseman could jeer at a baby trying to read its first word.

“Why you?” said he at last.

His voice had the same ashy quality to it as his whole self, as if his throat was burnt.  

“The grooms won’t return till the morning.”

The question brought you to the reality where your nightgown and the poor excuse of a shawl were still dripping with cold water and the horses were still going insane, shut in four walls with something that had scared them to death.

“I’m sorry, I have to…”

He didn’t let you finish.

The drawbar came out of the slots without a spare hitch. You couldn’t expect him to dispose of it with enough care, but he did, leaning the thing against the jamb in a weirdly habitual manner.

The dark mouth of the doorframe had swallowed him before you could utter a word of protest.

The beasts screamed so loud you jumped back faintheartedly, giving up the intention of following him.  

A century had passed in feverish struggle with yourself. You had to be there, and you had no courage to step over the threshold.

Your senses were strained to the limit that didn’t seem possible.

To your relief, little by little the clamour started dying down. The horses were falling silent one after another. First there were four of them, then two, then the last one sobbed quietly and all you could hear was a monotonous raspy whisper. Eventually it trailed off, too, leaving the rain the only thing to beget any sound at all.

There was a fresh cut on his cheek, when he stepped out into the yard again. In the scant moonlight the streaks of blood looked almost black to you.   

“Go back to bed, child,” dropped he without any feeling, “You do not wish to die in sickness.”

His breath was coming out weary, too weary for you not to put down your guard once more. With the sense you could find no name for you felt that whatever he had done had cost him more than it was worth.  And you deemed yourself guilty for that.

It was a silly move.

An obvious mistake.

The way his whole body convulsed at the touch of your shawl against his cheek made that clearer than daylight. In that brief moment your eyes met his again, there was such fury in them it made you nauseous.  

But you went on with it till you wiped away all the traces of blood and dirt and could be sure the wound was clean at least by the look.   

“Take care of it, please,” you said firmly.

The stables remained unlocked.

But you didn’t even think of it, as you turned away to leave.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Hi there! So happy I found your blog! I also love everything Rohan 😄 I'm a linguist and am just wondering about the language of Rohan. Given your extensive knowledge of our beloved kingdom, I was wondering if you'd be able to share what you know about their language? I understand it's supposed to be similar to Old English? Would a modern-day English-speaking person be able to understand them at all? Or at least identify it as a language that is similar to Old English? Did the people of Rohan more commonly speak Rohanese/Rohirric or Westron? Did all of them speak/understand both languages? Thank you so much!

Hello, Anonymous! I’m so glad you’re here and that you enjoy what you’ve found so far! Your question, coming from a linguist, makes me a little nervous because I am very much not. But I have confidence that someone else will pop in to correct me if I screw it up!

Any discussion of Rohirric gets complicated by the framing device Tolkien used. We’re supposed to believe that LOTR is an in-universe history, written by people who were there and who wrote in Westron. So what we see as English in the published book is supposed to be Tolkien’s translation of Westron. He then picked Old English to represent the language of the Rohirrim as a way to demonstrate the relationship between Rohirric and Westron – namely, Rohirric is an older, more archaic language than Westron with some shared historical origins (though the shared origins between Rohirric and Westron are not as direct as the way that English descended from Old English).

That means Old English is just used to make a point, not to show us what the language itself looked or sounded like. For that, we mostly have Legolas’s description (“rich and rolling”, “hard and stern” and “laden with sadness” 😬) and a few individual words that are mostly found in History of Middle Earth. The differences between the actual language and the Old English representation is pretty huge! The Old English-style name Éothéod (“horse people”) is actually Lohtûr. The name Théoden (coming from Old English meaning “king of the people”) is Tûrac in Rohirric. Because we know “loh” means horse in Rohirric and Éomer and Éowyn’s names both have eo- coming from Old English for “horse,” their real names would start with Loh- as well!

So a real Rohirric speaker would be using a language that has no relationship to Old English and wouldn’t be intelligible to a speaker of any form of English. As to whether a speaker of Old or Modern English would be able to understand Tolkien’s Old English-based representation of Rohirric, I’m not sure. He clearly knew a lot about Old English, so I imagine his use of that is probably pretty good (though he definitely made changes, like replacing “þ” with “th”). And I know that sometimes, as a modern English speaker, I can recognize and understand Old English words, but only those that made their way down to us largely unchanged. If I listen to someone reciting a whole bunch of Old English, it still sounds mostly like mush to me.

As for what languages are used on a daily basis in Rohan, I think we’re supposed to consider that Rohirric is the everyday language. Appendix F notes that the Rohirrim “still speak their ancestral tongue” and the guards at Edoras in TT say that using Rohirric is how they recognize their countrymen and friends. But Tolkien also says the “lords” use Westron freely in the manner of Gondor, and even the Rohirric-speaking guards switch easily to Westron when Gandalf asks them to. That suggests to me that Rohirric is for everyone/everyday use, but Westron is widely known, at least for anyone who might be interacting with outsiders.

I hope that was helpful! And thank you for sharing in love and appreciation for my favorite place in Middle Earth! ♥️🐎🗡️👑

[twicearoundthebend]

Just got back from watching War of the Rohirrim and ooooh do I have thoughts

Firstly! Did I drive an hour to my closest amc theater just for the popcorn bucket? Yes. Was it worth it? Also yes! Look at how ridiculous this thing is, I love it

And fun fact! The hands pieces come apart and fit inside the bucket part for easy storage :)

I really wasn’t sure what to expect, I was excited to have a new lotr movie in theaters, and an animated one at that! But I didn’t have massively high hopes with what’s come out recently. Was pleasantly surprised though! Stays pretty true to the books, music is amazing, and the character design is v cool (in love with all of Hera’s outfits), solid like 7/10 imo

spoilery thoughts under cut

As much as I loved the character design, the animation was a little choppy. That one forest sequence esp was just… not it. The backgrounds were beautiful, but the melding of 3-d background and 2-d characters was far from seamless. Anytime they included 3-d elements it looked so bad😭

The character motives and arcs were also kinda weak. Like- Wulf and Hera both felt really one dimensional. I did love Wulf’s general Targg, and Olwyn- absolute badass love her sm

I thought they did a good job keeping to Tolkiens story and embellishing to make it a full length film without drastically altering anything. They included literally everything from the story into the movie- honestly impressive. And the way they explained how some of the legend was passed down and some of the story was forgotten was a really smart way of explaining why we know so little of what happened

HATED the Gandalf shoe in at the end. Sauramon makes sense to be there, he’s in the story, but Gandalf??? What are you doing here sir? And asking about rings??? Literally makes no sense with the timeline but go off

Highlight was def Hama. New fave lil guy spotted. They can’t put a little botw link lookalike twink boy in a movie and expect him not to be my favorite- like obviously I’m obsessed, look at him!

(And the movie has my beloved Phillipa Boyens working on it, so I knew it’d turn out alright :)

[fistfuloflightning]

So. Someone a bit ago commented on one of my fics (or here, not sure) about my penchant for odd Tolkien rarepairs. I myself forget just how many I have, so here’s the rundown and why I like them:

Maedhros/Maeglin (just. the angst. of being buried under your mistakes and finding a kindred soul to share that same burden and heal together. soulmates. who might’ve even met during the nirnaeth. and they’re definitely switches your honor)

Celegorm/Aredhel or Celegorm/Dior (or Dior’s reckless/headstrong stubbornness reminds him of Aredhel and there’s a lot of angry/bittersweet proxyfucking and guilt and ‘I don’t know who I truly love anymore’)

Maglor/Luthien (beauty for beauty’s sake. and honestly anyone but beren. luthien getting involved with the war to protect her murderbard boyfriend and actually putting a dent in morgoth’s forces. mags trying his hardest to protect her as much as the silmaril she won back for him)

Curufin/Finrod (sending your husband to his death (that he knew abt but didn’t tell you) and screwing up your sons and living the rest of your shortened life regretting soooo. many. things. and then having to deal with them after mandos. a bitter beautiful chaotic mess that can only end in tears)

Fingon/Varda (don’t ask: even I’m not sure—something something gil galad’s associated w/ stars and no one knows who his mom is and I like me some valar with greek god leanings)

Aegnor/Haleth (battle bros to lovers, bc haleth won’t take no for an answer like andreth did 😒)

Argon/Amarie (falling in love with your cousin’s ex was not the intention after being the first one killed/sent back. but she’s finally moving on from finrod and you’ve grown to care for her company more than you thought…)

Daeron/Beren (beren didn’t deserve luthien—this started as a joke but these two seriously deserve each other in all their squabbling glory)

Mablung/Nienor (they just. deserve happiness and peace. and lots of adorable peredhel kids. please)

Eowyn/Merry (same as above, but they have the benefit of having an entire shire to rebuild and different cultures to find wonder in and grow to love as much as their own)

idk I might be missing some but these are my thoughts on my main Tolkien rarepairs

[karolinaandfrogs]

Flowers

A/N: There is no use of y/n because of my indescribable hatred for whatever that thing is. Also by saying this I just wanna say that I don't mind other authors using y/n as their main character. Just for me personally, I like it when my main hero has more obvious shapes, so I just dropped here my own character.

A/N: The reader is elf born. I like to mix the world of Tolkien and J. K. Rowling a bit so please, let there be no confusion of the main character for the house elves in Harry Potter.

Warnings: none

Pairing: Regulus Black x female!elf!reader

Words: 1,7k

"You're beautiful. As a flower.”

“Then, why won’t you make me yours?”

“Because every flower dries eventually. Each one of them becomes fragile with time. But not everyone has given their lives to the hands of time. No, some of us are cursed by it. We stay with heavy centuries on our shoulders as we watch the flowers vanish slowly.”

The library was almost empty today. This wasn’t surprising because most of the students were enjoying the day at Hogsmeade. Either buying gifts or just wandering from one shop window to another. November was slowly but surely coming to an end and as Christmas time was now, swiftly approaching the snow-covered school grounds, a festive but relaxed atmosphere was lingering in the air. Everyone excitedly awaited the magical part of the year.

Except him.

Regulus has never really liked this time of the year but that wasn’t the reason for the current state of his mind. Even Evan had told him that morning that he was grumpier than usual, but he wasn’t the only one to notice his friend’s despair. Regulus’ concentration in classes became loose as he struggled to pay attention to his professors’ interpretations. His marks took a quick turn down and before he knew that, he wasn’t at the top of his class. Many professors have noticed this sudden change in his behavior and one time even Professor McGonagall asked him to stay after the lesson ended. He’d be lying if he said that, it didn’t touch his heart, at least a little, when the usually strict and precise woman asked him motherly if he was alright. But of course, he hasn’t uttered a word to his closest friends, he wouldn’t confide in her.

And that’s why he was here, in the library, ready to get the post of the top student of his year back.

He was looking for a book to help him write an essay about the Salem Witch Trials for Professor Binns. He trailed his tired eyes along the leather backs of the books. He yawned and shook his head as if it were meant to cure his sleep deprivation. He grabbed the first book that looked somewhat useful and sat down at the nearest table. He took the first sheet of parchment he found in his bag, altogether with a bottle of ink and a quill. He took the book and started working on his essay. He was three words in when his mind started to wonder again.

“I’m too old for you, you know that right?”

“Didn’t you say, that elves age differently?”

“I did, didn’t I? But still.”

Hand in hand with his marks had taken a downfall in his appetite and sleep. He started to skip breakfasts and lunches and sometimes dinners. These days he’s always felt like he’d throw up any minute the little his friends almost shoved down his throat. The image of food touching his lips had begun to feel so unfamiliar. And it started showing.

When he saw himself in the bathroom mirror the other night his mind was unable to process what he was looking at. At first, he could only recognize the outlines of a young man. Although he could already tell that what he was about to see was rather ugly, he still reached out his hand to wipe off the water of the mirror.

The bathroom air was stuffy, hot, and heavy. The night behind the bathroom window was thick like a rich chocolate mousse. Almost as if inviting to dip a spoon in. And in the mirror stood a silhouette of a boy. His collarbones were sticking out. His ribs took more obvious outlines. He was staring at his outline and his outline’s gaze was fixed back at him. Each one of them looking unhealthy and miserable.

And all that for one simple reason.

His pride was hurt. His feelings were rejected. He was rejected.

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his train of thought. Some first-year walked past his table with an armful of books, mumbling something Regulus couldn’t understand, and disappeared behind a first shelf of books.

Regulus sighed. He needed to concentrate. He’s not going to let his intrusive thoughts put him down this easily. Especially, when he’s got a goal to achieve. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out. Then he took a quick look at what he’s already written down. It wasn’t much, or, to be completely honest, it was merely a few words. He dipped his quill in ink again and started working.

“The Salem Witch Trials were a major event in the history of the wizarding world.”

“Reggie?”

“They provoked many witches and wizards who settled in the New World to return to their homelands.”

“Yes?”

“I thought you hated that nickname.”

“I don’t mind when you call me that.”

He snapped the book closed. He knew he wouldn’t get any work done like this. Plus, even tho he tried to occupy his mind, it always seemed to find a way for memories too painful to bear to float to the surface.

He quickly packed all his belongings and threw them into his bag. Normally, he would spend extra time organizing his belongings, but today he didn’t care. He just wanted to fall onto his bed, tuck himself under the sheets, and pretend he was already asleep so that when his roommates returned from the Great Hall, they wouldn’t try to convince him to eat something.

He exited the library and headed straight to the Slytherin common room. He was walking through the empty corridor when he heard someone call his name.

“Reggie?”

He froze. He knew this voice way too well. And so did he know the owner of this voice.

But he didn’t turn his head towards her. Not just yet.

He knew he wasn’t ready to look her in the eyes. Not after what she’s done to him. He hated her for that most ardently. He was bitterly swallowing the fact that he knew he would willingly go through all this pain all over again only if he could reach any possible closure.

And again he was disgusted by how pathetic this all was. This wasn’t the man his mother raised him to be.

His breathing got faster and he was starting to feel dizzy. He knew that he needed to get out of there. He wasn’t prepared for this kind of conversation.

“Reggie, please look at me.” Her voice was soft. Just like every time she spoke to him. But it was hard to tell if she had this tone of voice dedicated to him and him only or if she had spoken like this with everyone. Either way, to him she seemed angelic.

He turned his head. His dark hazel eyes met her steel grey.

In the bright afternoon light that peeked through every window in the corridor, he could see that her curves seemed sharper than normal. Honestly, she looked… tired. Her long honey curls were today frizzy and wild. There were dark shadows underneath her eyes. Her tie appeared to be oddly knotted but at the same time, the knot looked like it was holding on only by the power of pure will. Overall she looked like she’s got a few rough nights behind her. Just like him.

This was the first time since the last time they’d spoken that he had a chance to really look at her. Of course, they had classes together but he usually kept his gaze buried deep into the ground. He just didn’t have the guts to look her in the eyes.

“You know that we don’t have to do it like thi-”

“What do you want?”

His voice was way harsher than he wanted it to be. He could see that he hit the right spot when she twitched with a mixture of fear and nervousness. He should be happy about that. Then why wasn’t he? Why was he so afraid to hurt the one, standing behind all his despair?

“I wanna talk.”

“When we’ve spoken at last you made it clear, that you want me to keep my distance. So, that’s what I’ve been doing. And now it’s all wrong again?” Even he was surprised at how flatly he managed to say these words.

She paused, for a brief moment and when she spoke up again her voice was brittle. Her usual confidence with whom she spoke was gone. Now, she seemed almost fragile.

“You know that this is not fair Reggie.”

He scoffed, “oh? How so?”

There was a genuine hurt in her eyes and it immediately made him want to take back, what he said. But he couldn’t.

“You’re being mean. This is not the Regulus I know. This is not my Reggie.”

It was almost cynical to call him hers. They both knew it. It didn’t matter, how they called this whole situation of theirs. He wasn’t hers to keep. And she wasn’t his to look after.

The corridor was strangely empty. Regulus was thinking that anytime someone has to rush in and ruin this moment. Only, if it hasn’t been already ruined.

It was hopeless. Either way, they were doomed to fall apart. Of course, there were a few stories throughout history when an elf and a human had fallen for each other but these fairy tales always had the very same ending. When the wistful youth had washed off one of the lover’s faces and the long years passed there was only one left. And that one was chipped into pieces while hoping that something would bring their dearest one back to them. Cursing the wheel of time while wishing it would be them to break it.

How many romantic tragedies will pass before they learn their lesson?

There was a long silence in the corridor. Neither of them had anything left to say.

“Goodbye, Regulus.”

He knew this was about to come but he wasn’t ready for it yet. He didn’t respond. All he could do was to watch her leave him behind. As always.

[outofangband]

Rambling Morwen thoughts, more in my houseless for exiles tag, sorry for aforementioned rambling

“Rashness, lord! If my son works in the woods hungry if he lingers in bonds, if his body lies unburied, then I would be rash. I would lose no hour to go to seek him.”

-Chapter 14, The Journey of Morwen and Niënor

Everything in this exchange is so important to me, but it’s specifically the if his body lies unburied that really gets to me because I think it speaks a lot about  Morwen’s trauma from the Bragollach, and Húrin and Rían’s vanishing

Just have so much of her pride is in twined with her grief so much of her grief is so intertwined with uncertainty, and not knowing.

Her father and uncle, and a lot of her male relatives who died with Barahir, she never got news of their death.  If she did, it would’ve been decades after it happened when she finally came to  Doriath, if Beren’s full history was known there. Her mother may well have died in the Bragollach too*

And then her cousin, the last of her people there also runs off, and she never gets any news of her, and she never learns at least presumably never learns what happened to Rían’s son**

And of course Húrin! Húrin Rides off for war and never returns, and no tidings from any of his people who fought in the battle come back either. She doesn’t know if he’s dead, or captured, or simply prevented from returning as she says herself.

I have a couple posts in my houseless for exiles tag about this but also leaving Hithlum behind, knowing that she would never see it or its people again, and would likely never know of their fate, is yet another grief. She would have left Aerin and anyone else she was close with, knowing the circumstances they would be in and knowing the parting was a permanent one.

Which leads to my main point

Morwen is willing to drown crossing the Sirion (as she tells Mablung) or be murdered by Morgoth’s most dreadful monster (as she nearly is) trying to get news of Túrin, or save him or even just to bury him! She’s willing to risk that just to make sure he gets proper burial and so she knows what has become of him.

I’m sorry to bring this back into my thoughts about those words and traits that  are always associated with Morwen; her pride, her grief (and also her inability to grieve!!,)  and severity and stubbornness and resilience but I think it’s all so fascinatingly connected. She has been denied closure for decades. She’s willing to do pretty much anything to make sure it doesn’t happen again

And that’s part of what makes that last interaction at the grave of her children so heartbreaking

And this should be a post in itself I’ll make later but I also think about how for those who knew Morwen, they suffer this same uncertainty

…but Morwen also was lost. Neither then nor after did any certain news of her fate come to Doriath or to Dor-lómin.

(Also, I love her being able to tell the difference in the members of the party and to be able to tell that there’s one more member that there should be when these thousands of year-old fully trained elven scouts didn’t notice that it’s both awesome and very funny to me! And the part about Morwen refusing to be led back to Doriath by Niënor! It’s the second to last mention of her pride and resolve in the novel and it’s part of the last description of Niënor as Niënor!)

Anyway I love Morwen very much and I will do an entire post on the whence came he! Scene

* Neither the mother of Morwen nor her parents or any other maternal family is mentioned in canon. In The Shaping of Middle Earth, Tolkien originally had the mothers of Morwen and Rían as being of the house of Marach, his original reason for them having survived the Bragollach and ending up in Hithlum. He discarded this however, making Morwen and Rían refugees of the Bragollach but never saying anything more about their mothers.

** kept this part short as I have several post specifically about this aspect of their relationship and their relationship and general, which are very important to me, I’ll link one of the more recent ones just for my own organization here

[airandangels]

As I continue with the LOTR audiobooks I’m struck by how different the sense of pace and urgency is from the movies. We know, of course, that a movie is different from a book and can simply and directly show us things that an author may need a few paragraphs to describe, also events in the plot may be brought closer together or be combined or dropped altogether, and dialogue generally needs to be more concise. I think I’m allowing sufficiently for that, but still.

With the abduction of Merry and Pippin, surely every minute counts in terms of the trail growing cold or the orcs reaching their destination, yet still, after caring for Boromir’s body and giving him the best funeral they can under the circumstances* (as they do in the movie, it’s just that it’s elided between scenes while in the book we have the full description, including a touching detail, that they made a pillow for his head from his folded Lothlorien cloak and combed his hair, because it’s such a human**thing that even knowing our friend or relative won’t feel it and doesn’t need it, we need to make sure they would be comfortable and they look nice) after setting his boat loose to go over the falls, because Lord of the Rings is a musical, they’re singing a song they must have improvised just now - not just Boromir’s favourite song if they knew it, or a pre-existing Gondorian folk song that seems fitting, but a new original song about missing Boromir, because not only does it have his name in it, it has pretty specific references to the geography of his journey and so forth.

The only way that makes sense is if you bear in mind that Lord of the Rings is a musical.

Also, I generally don’t harp on differences between the books and movies, but I would like to note that in the book Boromir is still alive, in his last moments, to feel Aragorn hold his hand and kiss his forehead, and I prefer that version.

Oh! Also Andy Serkis did come up with better voices for Elrond and Legolas than the rather irritating wispy fairy ones he did for the earlier elves. They still have a trace of the wispiness and a certain rhythm to their speech that’s distinctively elvish, and I think that was a good way to handle it. I guess Glorfindel and that dude the hobbits met on the way out of the Shire just have stronger accents when they speak the common language? I’ll let it go at that.

I bet he was glad Tolkien wrote that Galadriel had an unusually deep voice for a woman.

* I don’t blame them for the choice they made, they discuss different options but conclude that with no shovels to dig a grave and not enough rocks suitable to make a cairn over his body, the river is their best option. However, I’ve never liked the thought that, after going over the waterfall where the boat would break up at the bottom, what actually became of Boromir’s body was no different from if they’d just thrown him in. He would bloat and float and so forth. Yucky. Therefore I decided today that there was a huge fish (maybe a sturgeon) swimming not far down the Anduin and it ate him up in one go while he was still fresh. I think that’s more dignified.

**Here I’ll use the more expansive Ryoko Kui definition of human because I’m not excluding elves or dwarves (or indeed hobbits) from feeling this way. Also, I warmly recommend the New Zealand TV series The Casketeers.

[eccentricphilosoph]

People think Tolkien was racist. I did a lot of deep diving and… no. White people wrote about white people back then… and still do… and his stuff is based on Norse and English mythology.

Can’t get any “whiter” than Norse and English mythology and he is white, so… If you want to call anyone racist, it’s those who created those tales and myths he based things on… as if he would know that in the 1930s when the internet and political correctness didn’t exist… get over yourselves and do some research and think about the historical context and the kinds of things he was inspired by within his own heritage. Please.

His works are so heavily influenced by these mythologies that it’s difficult to say he made these things up out of his own head and any blame for any form of “racism” would be chalked up to the original mythologies. Of course, he realistically didn’t think or even recognize anything of the sort! It was the 1930s and he was in WWI!!

Strange how MANY who love DND still make this argument even when DND takes SO much from Tolkien and much of the same lore that he used for his own inspiration! I don’t see people faulting DND fans.

OR are you idiotic enough to look at the movie versions of orcs, for example, and decide that was racist? Because, last I saw in the novels, the orcs and Uruk-hai don’t have black skin and the Uruk-hai don’t have “dreads” or whatever. The films aren’t Tolkien’s literal vision. They’re Jackson’s and the people who did the designs!

If you knew LOTR better you’d also know that the orcs are “spiritually” corrupted elves. Much like fallen angels, if you will. Tolkien was heavily influenced by Catholicism as well.

The ideas of light/dark good/evil is quite innate to humans in general as literal darkness can be a source of danger because not only can humans not see in the dark, at nighttime, there are predators that can attack and harm humans. It’s quite common sense to understand why humans would believe that darkness would be associated with evil. Whereas light comes from the sun and we need the sun to survive and we can see and be alert during the day as well. The sun is what drives away those predators that would do harm in the night. Again, it’s quite common sensical and far reaching nonsense to think the ideas of light/dark and good/evil are somehow inherently racist…

Sure, the stories between the good and bad are somewhat two dimensional in some aspects, but his forms of races clashing against one another is from MYTHOLOGY and folklore that has existed for centuries! While it may seem shortsighted to us today, it wasn’t really a thought on anyone’s radar that it was highly offensive enough to be called racist.

Again, get over yourself and don’t be stupid. You have a brain. Use it. 

Don’t listen to hearsay. The internet is FULL of idiots!

Sorry, end of rant. I didn’t want to be mean, but I’m sick and tired of people taking political correctness too far. Sure, the idea of Tolkien being racist became a contention in the 90s, but it died out for a reason. Sensationalism. That’s all it’s been.

[underworld-park-offical]

CLYDE: HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK

CLYDE: THE FUCKING VIDEO CUT OFF BUT

CLYDE: CRAIGS PROBABLY DEAD HE'S DEAD HE'S DEAD HE’S DEADDDDD WAHHHHHH

TOLKIEN: I KNOW SHUT UP TOLKIEN: YOU'VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT THAT THE WHOLE CAR RIDE!!!

CLYDE: I KNOW WE ALL SAID WE WANTED HIM DEAD BUT CLYDE: BUT CLYDE: WAHHHHHHHHH HAAAA HAAAAAAAA!!!!!

TOLKIEN: BABE SHUT UP TOLKIEN: I'M TRYING TO FOCUS ON THE ROAD TOLKIEN: I DON'T WANT TO GET A SPEEDING TICKET TODAY

CLYDE: WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HAAAAAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

CLYDE: I MISS CRAIG SO MUCH CLYDE: HE WAS THE WORST BEST FRIEND I'VE EVER HAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDD

TOLKIEN: STOP CRYING TOLKIEN: I LOVE YOU TOLKIEN: BUT I NEED TO FOCUS RIGHT NOW TOLKIEN: I DON'T WANT TO CRASH MY CAR

CLYDE: WAAAHAHHHHHAHVAGUCGJFIYGXTUDXFRCYUHY*GCFGJUOTUDVHUPI*YIFGCJBLOUGTCGJOUFJGOUFDTYGUOCFJGYOFX

TOLKIEN: BABY I CAN'T COMFORT YOU RIGHT NOW TOLKIEN: I'M DRIVING CLYDE: YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT MEEEE HEEEE HEEEEEE CLYDE: OR CRAAA HEYYY HEYYYA AAAIG 

CLYDE: OR JIMM HEE HEE HEE…

CLYDE: HE'S DEAD YOU MONSTER HER HERRRRR!! TOLKIEN: I CARE, THAT'S WHY I'M TRYING NOT TO CRASH RIGHT NOW

CLYDE: YOU'RE LYING TO MEEEEEE TOLKIEN: I AM NOT TOLKIEN: BUT I AM TOLKIEN: THIS  CLOSE TOLKIEN: TO TAPING YOUR MOUTH SHUT

CLYDE: WAHHAAGHVHUGGCHFUIHCGFHUIYHVHVGUHGV GGUI PLEASE DONT I'LL BE A GOOD BOYYYYYYYY TOLKIEN: YOU'RE A BIG STRONG MAN TOLKIEN: PLEASE STOP CRYING CLYDE: (sniffle) Okayyyyyyy

TOLKIEN: GOD DAMN TOLKIEN: WE NEED TO TELL DAIMEN CLYDE: Whyy??????????

TOLKIEN: He's one of the few people in our friend group I can actually fucking TOLERATE

TOLKIEN: I’m pretty sure he's working at the 711 right now

CLYDE: STEP ON THE GAS BABY TOLKIEN: I'M TRYING

Meanwhile...with the gays

THOMAS: HAOUGUUGUGHGHHHHHHHHHHHHH

TWEEK: WHAT THE FUCK???

TWEEK: WHY ARE YOU THROWING UP KOOL AID?????

TWEEK: ARE YOU OKAY THOMAS???? TWEEK: THOMAS?????? THOMAS: NOHuuuuuu...... uuUHHHOUUUUGHHGHHFGGH–

PIP: Ugh he's getting me all red!

PIP: Gregory, make him stop right now!

PIP: He's getting kool aid all over my very expensive suit!

GREGORY: You know he has a condition!

GREGORY: You KNOW He has “throwing up koolaid-itus”!!!

GREGORY: He told me so!

PIP: UGHHHHHHHHH!!!

PIP: You all are going to make this plan go to SHIT!

TWEEK: SHUT UP!!

TWEEK: The douchebag is in our presence

PIP: I DONT CARE I'LL JUST EAT HIM LIKE I DID HIS STUPID FUCKING FRIEND

PIP: JIMBO OR WHATEVER HIS NAME WAS

GREGORY: Jimmy, sir

PIP: I KNEW THAT SHUT UP

GREGORY: Yes sir-

PIP: Infact

PIP: ALL OF YOU SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP RIGHT NOW!!!

THOMAS: Buhhh….. blehhh …..ughhh….

THOMAS: Eughhh…

THOMAS: I hated that…

TWEEK: DON'T TELL ME TO SHUT UP YOU STUPID BRITISH CROOKED TEETH MOTHER OF-

GREGORY: Ah ah ah 

GREGORY: No no no Tweeky!

GREGORY: Bad idea!

GREGORY: You dont wanna mess with Sir Pip whilst he's upset!

TWEEK: RRGHHHGHGHGH LEMME AT HIM!!!

GREGORY: Ah ah ah!

GREGORY: No way!

TWEEK: RRRRGGRHHHHHHHH!!!!!  

TWEEK: I'M GONNA SNAP HIM IN HALF LIKE A PRETZEL!!!

PIP: Not before I snap YOU in half like a goddamn Crumpet!

THOMAS: U- uh….

THOMAS: Guys??

TWEEK: YOU ARE SERIOUSLY THE WORST LEADER EVER!!

PIP: OH DON'T EVEN START YOU METH ADDICTED DEFIANT TROLL!

TWEEK: YOU DID NOT

PIP: OH I MOST CERTAINLY DID

THOMAS: Guuuuys?

PIP: I HOPE YOU FUCKING BURN BECUASE OF THE LAND WENCE YOU CAME, YOU SUPER SONIC MUFFIN MUNCHER TWEEK: KILL YOURSELF YOU CRUSTY PEANUT PIP: I'M ALREADY DEAD YOU MORONIC BRAINDEAD LUNATIC TWEEK: DIE TWICE PIP: FUCK YOU!!!

THOMAS: GUYS!!!!!!

PIP AND TWEEK: WHAT???????

THOMAS: What do we do with…. SHIT-! COCK-!!

THOMAS: What do we do with him?

CRAIG: What is going on? CRAIG: I'm like

CRAIG: Mad dissociating right now

CRAIG: What

CRAIG: What are you guys

CRAIG: How are you all here…?

GREGORY: Oh the mister has finally snapped out of his trance!

GREGORY: Apologies, dear friend!

GREGORY: Sir Pip had requested we keep you contained! He remembers you being the worst of the lot!

GREGORY: And with your fashion choice, I can certainly see why.

CRAIG: What are you….

CRAIG: Ohhhh…. 

CRAIG: Yeah this hoodie was a mistake

CRAIG: And the phone case….

CRAIG: Goddamnit…

PIP: He's come to his senses 

PIP: WHY HAS HE COME TO HIS SENSES??!?!

PIP: THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!!!!

PIP: AAAAAAGHHHH!!!!

PIP: DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT!!!

GREGORY: Oh dear

GREGORY: Sir Pip is upset again

GREGORY: There there Sir Pip

PIP: SHUT YOUR MOUTH YOU ABSOLUTE KISS ASS PIP: I WILL RIP THAT PONYTAIL FROM YOUR SCALP!

GREGORY: Apologies, Sir Pip

CRAIG: Wait a second

CRAIG: Is that a fucking dead body??????

CRAIG: HOLY SHIT IS THAT JIMMY????

PIP: Well one of the side effects of opening a portal to hell,

PIP: Someone kicks the bucket!

CRAIG: Christ..

PIP: Why did you capture him,  Gregory?

PIP: You know I hate this one

GREGORY: He was the closest one, Sir Pip!

PIP: You could've just grabbed them ALL!

PIP: Now our plan will fucking CRUMBLE because of you!

PIP: You SENTIENT. STAPLER.

GREGORY: I 

GREGORY: Sir Pip….

PIP: NO! NO I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOU ANYMORE!

PIP: Anyway, since you ARE here

PIP: You may as well make yourself of good use to me

CRAIG: What?

PIP: Where are Stan and his little friends?

PIP: Out of all of you dicktwats, THEY treated me worst

PIP: So… where are they?

(EDITS MADE BY @pissblanket)