#also the concept that Knives feels so so SO lonely and has been reaching out for connection all this time

[x-i-l-verify]

#its funny to think that KNIVES is the one thats so different from other plants as opposed to vash #but theres some hints like his coloring as tesla and vash have the same and its knives whose a bit of an outlier #i wonder if when we see the earth independants they'll have vash and teslas coloring too #maybe making knives feel even more isolated #actually no now that i think about it it makes sense #if the twins are legitimately 1 plant in 2 bodies then it makes sense that knives would be the production aspect #and vash the connection aspect

The song Vash hums is the song Knives is always playing on the piano!! The song Vash knows from the Plant Core, the song all Plants (except Knives) knows and lets them communicate!! Knives has been trying to recreate the song with the piano because he’s disconnected from the higher plane and cant communicate with Dependent Plants like Vash!!!

The detail they put in!! I’m SCREAMING

[lemonlushff-iy]

War Bride

Knight Kagome

Mad Scientist

Bakery Inu/Kag (different from Petits Délices)

DT Holiday

Mail Order Husband

Virus

oh! Please! 1, 2, and 6. Can you tell us more?

@kawaiichan67​ I SWEAR I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN!!! I was just waiting to get off work and then also get onto my computer again so I could answer this the way it deserved to be answered!!

Thank you SO SO SO much for the ask!!

In order:

1: War Bride is a fic where Inuyasha is a soldier from America in WWII, and once it’s over...he’s one of the ones occupying Japan. There, he falls in love with Kagome, and marries her, bringing her back to the states as his “war bride”. It was a very common occurrence for these men, and laws were actually made to help expedite things to make it so that soldiers could, in fact, bring these war brides home. I’ve read a few articles on it while doing research for “Not for All the Tea in China”, and I am FASCINATED by it, and really want to try my hand at that once. 

TEASER:

Inuyasha’s breath puffed out before him in the cold, December air. His joints ached as he slowly moved through the cemetery, the stone grave markers lined forming neat, tight rows. It had been a week since he had been here last. He always tried to visit once a week. 

The thought of her here alone…

He spotted his late wife’s marker and smiled. The pang in his heart was still as fresh as the day he had lost her. It still tightened painfully in his chest. His breath still hitched in his clogged throat. They said time healed all wounds…

Time couldn’t dull this pain, however. 

He set up the folding chair on her small polt as he arrived, bending down to rub the marker endearingly. The sun had warmed the stone slightly in the chill of the air, and if he closed his eyes...he could pretend that the hardness he felt under his wrinkled, weathered fingers was her soft, pliable skin. He could pretend that he cupped her cheek as she laid in their bed beside him, the way he had thousands of times before. 

“Merry Christmas, Koishii,” he greeted lovingly, his deep voice rough with age and emotion. 

The wind picked up around him - just a gentle breeze, really - but he chose to believe that she was reaching out to him too. 

“Merry Christmas, Inuyasha…” 

He longed to hear those words from her. 

“Moroha is coming by later,” he began chipperly, shoving his frail hands into his jacket pockets. “She’s bringing the boy and the kids too.”

He still “lovingly” referred to his son in law as “the boy”. It was more of a tease now - something said with a twinkle in his eye. Inuyasha might not have liked the man when he first showed up...but...Moroha was their only child. His special princess. It was something Kagome would tell him to not do, but he and “the boy” had a bit of an understanding now. 

He had seen the look in the man’s eyes when he looked at his little girl. 

It was the same one he had once had in his eye when he had first seen Kagome, back in Japan after the end of World War II. 

“Do you remember the day we met, Kagome?” he pondered aloud, knowing that he wouldn’t receive a response. Still, he asked all the same. 

He liked talking to her, even if he would never again receive a response. 

“You were working at that department store…” he began, closing his eyes, and he was transported to a different time and place. 

2: Knight Kagome is just...me toying with a concept. Inuyasha is the unwanted child of a duke Touga. Kagome is a powerful knight. He marries Inuyasha off to her (for a reason I haven’t decided on...something battley related) and the pair slowly falls in love. 

This is actually all I have for that one...

TEASER:

She was beautiful. 

He couldn’t help but sneak glances at her from under his lashes at the altar. Her wedding dress. The braids in her black hair. If her stormy blue eyes hadn’t been downtrodden, he might have believed for a moment that the smile on her face was real. 

That she actually wanted to marry him. 

But. Then again. Who would ever want to marry him. Inuyasha. Bastard half-breed son of the great duke toga Takahashi, and a maid who had caught his eye. He’s only had to rut her a few times before she’s been whelped. 

He’d never even met her. She died as he was born. She hadn’t even had the strength to look upon his face as he drew his first breath. 

The priest continued to drone on before them, and he found himself stealing another glance at her. 

So beautiful. So powerful. How the hell had his father twisted her arm into wedding him. He hadn’t heard the details. He only knew that Kagome would become his wife, and then, shortly after, she would take their place on the battlefield. As a knight and a magician, she was powerful. She hadn’t earned any titles yet, but that was sure to follow. 

He could feel the power radiating off of her, even now. Her strength. Her magic. 

He shifted his golden gaze away from her as she tilted her head ever so slightly to look at him. His breath caught in his throat and he silently tried to calm himself. 

6: Mail Order Husband...Oh. My. God. I have had this idea since HIGH SCHOOL. Kagome doesn’t have time for love. She’s lonely...but her job is her world and nothing will stand in her way of her dreams of becoming a top exec at a fashion magazine. She thinks she has it all. The looks. The apartment. The friends...but...one night after a long day of work, there’s a knock on her door...and when she answers it, she’s swept into the arms of a stranger who proceeds to kiss her. 

And tell her he’s her husband. 

Maybe she doesn’t have the friends she thought she did. 

...Or does she?

TEASER: 

Kagome sighed as she toed off her high heels, gently scooting them to the side with her foot, next to her island. She peeled out of her blazer as she walked further into her apartment, ditching it onto the closest arm chair, rubbing the back of her neck. 

God she was exhausted. And she wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow, but...that was a “future her” issue. She didn’t want to mull over work anymore right now. All she wanted was her grubhub to arrive so she could have some sushi, pour some wine, and watch the real housewives of atlanta. 

Their shit was always worlds better than her own. Their drama made her forget about her drama...and she fucking hated drama. When she was involved, of course. 

She still wanted to know 200% of it. 

Just leave her out of it. 

She meandered over to her bathroom and pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail at the top of her head, removing her jewelry. She would have completely changed, but...frankly...she knew that dinner would be arriving soon and she’d rather open the door with her bra on. 

That didn’t mean that she couldn’t get a little more comfortable first though. Try and wipe away some of the traces of her hellish day at work. 

That fucking magazine…

It was her blood. Her life. And they made her bleed for it. The deadlines were crazy, the stress insane, and her bosses even more so. Yet...she wouldn’t trade her life for anything. It was her dream job, and she had sacrificed a lot to get here. 

A social life, at times. Definitely love. 

This was what the trade off was for working at one of the most in demand, read, and famous fashion magazines in the world. 

She rolled her shoulders, before washing her face, drying it with a towel behind her. It was a bit better, but she didn’t feel refreshed. She felt exhausted, and now that the makeup was gone, she could see the bags under her blue eyes. She loved her eyes...was that conceited to say?

She didn’t know anymore after working for them. 

But she did.

They were large and round...had heard from many men before that it was like looking into the depths of an ocean and...frankly...she had to agree. They were one of her most striking features, next to her delicate features. Nose, cheekbone...brows...If she didn’t enjoy food, she had been told that she could have been a model. As it were, however, that wasn’t a path she wanted for herself anyways. 

She exited the bathroom, flicking off the light as she made her way back into her kitchen, opening the fridge door and taking out a new bottle of wine. Chardonnay. She had picked it up a few days ago, and nothing like her hell day to make her want to dip into it. 

She grabbed the corkscrew and began working it into the bottle as a knock came from her door, and she sighed in relief. 

“Sushi,” she grinned, placing the bottle onto her counter as she strode towards the door. “You have good timing!” she called out, placing her hand on the knob, turning it. “I’m famished!”

What greeted her on the other side of the door didn’t look like a grubhub man. 

Afterall. 

Grubhub brought you food.

Not suitcases. 

“Hello?” she greeted, raising her brow at the man before her. Long silver hair, nervous yet excited golden eyes...His smile was shy but endearing. 

“Kagome?” he whispered, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. 

“Yes?” she replied slowly - hesitantly. Who the hell was he and how the hell did he even know her name?

“Kagome,” he grinned widely, sweeping her into his arms, his lips planting themselves firmly on her lips. 

She squealed as he began kissing her, his hands winding into her hair, his hand gently moving to lovingly caress the small of her back. She had no idea who the hell this man was...or why the fuck he was kissing her, but she didn’t like it!

Well…

She did…

But it was creepy as fuck and she didn’t like it!

She wormed her hands between their bodies and gave him a firm push, staggering backwards into her apartment. 

“What the fuck!” she demanded, running the back of her hand against her lips, and he looked absolutely crushed. 

“W-what?”

“Who the hell are you and why the hell did you just kiss me!”

“W-who...K-kagome…”

She darted over towards the butcher block on her counter holding her knives and grabbed one as he entered  her apartment. 

“Kagome! It’s me! Inuyasha!”

“You say that like it should mean something to me,” she growled lowly, keeping her knife pointed at him. She wasn’t letting him get any closer to her if she could help it. 

If only she were closer to her phone...Then she could maybe call for help. 

“I...We’re getting married,” he breathed, his face confused. Saddened. 

“What?!” she shrieked. This guy had to have a few marbles loose. 

“Do you...Kagome Higurashi?”

“That’s my name,” she nodded. “But I’m definitely not getting married, buddy…”

“I don’t understand…” he whispered. He looked like he was on the verge of crying, and her heart softened a little. This man...Inuyasha...whoever he was...Seemed completely and totally baffled. 

“L-look. Maybe there’s another Kagome Higurashi that’s out there that you’re supposed to get married to. What...why don’t you...Shit,” she sighed. He looked so sad. He didn’t seem like a threat. He seemed as confused and befuddled as she did. She wasn’t going to put down the knife, but maybe she should take a few deep breaths and try and figure out what the hell was going on. Maybe ask him why the hell he had two large suitcases outside her apartment. 

“Why don’t you grab those and come inside,” she began again, trying to keep her words soft. They had gotten off on the wrong foot, but she was willing to start over and try and help him out. He just looked so lost...Like...A puppy. 

She could see him worrying the inside of his cheek, as he thought over her words before nodding and stepping outside to grab his suitcases. 

Why the hell did he need suitcases?

He moved to close the door but she stopped him. She would rather leave it open in case her judgement was inpaired. Frankly, it wouldn’t surprise her if it was. What was she thinking anyways?

...That there was a strange lost man who needed help...who looked absolutely devastated...and she was going to help him out. Because she was a good person. 

Fuck. 

“Why don’t you leave that open,” she voiced, and he glanced back up at her in confusion, before understanding flooded his eyes. “I have dinner on the way,” she explained, but he didn’t look like he completely believed that. 

It was true though!

God...There went her relaxing night of sushi and wine and reality tv...She could already feel it as she removed her blazer from the chair, gesturing for him to sit down. He jerkily nodded, and slumped down, trying to find the words to explain his sudden appearance. 

Her standing probably wasn’t helping to ease him much...So she reluctantly decided to sit on the couch across from him, making sure they had plenty of distance - and a coffee table - between them. 

“Why don’t you tell me who you are, and why you’re here?” she prompted softly, and he nodded his head. She watched his fingers as they began to nervously pick at his nails, and she had to bite her tongue to tell him to stop. 

“My name is Inuyasha Takahashi,” he began slowly. “And I’m here to marry a woman named Kagome Higurashi. We met online six month ago...And...I’m sorry, I just...You even look like her…” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening…”

He leaned forward, propping his head up on his knees as the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. 

“I should have known better,” he chuckled dryly to himself. “Twelve hours on a plan and you...she...wouldn’t even come and pick me up from the airport?”

“W-what?” she sputtered. “Who the hell is this woman?”

“You! I thought!” he replied in exasperation. “I...Do you have a computer?” he swallowed. “Maybe it will be easier if I just...Can I show you? Please…”

“Yeah. Sure! Of-of course. Hold on,” she nodded, picking up the knife and packing out of the room, keeping her front to him as she made her way into her bedroom. She had left it on her nightstand last night, and now would be the perfect time to grave her phone too. 

Just in case. 

She had left it in the bathroom when she was washing her face, and when she grabbed it off the white and black marbled counter, she was surprised to see a littony of missed phone calls from her friends. Eri, Yuka, Yumi...What the hell did they want?

She shook her head and decided to table that for another time. 

She was already having a hell of a night. She really didn’t want to add their issues to it too. 

She left her bedroom, laptop, phone and knife in hand, and found he hadn’t left his spot. His eyes were red, and glossy, and it made her heart ache for him a little. He seemed so sweet and genuine…

“Here,” she offered, handing him her computer. 

He mumbled out his thanks, opening it and scrolling and typing away. When he was done, he handed the computer back to her, and she was flabbergasted. 

He had taken her to...what appeared to be...A website for mail order husbands?! She didn’t even know that was a thing!

“Kagome and I met about six months ago and it was…” he smiled wistfully. “I felt a connection to her almost instantly. You can...read through everything,” he blushed sweetly, and she absently found herself thinking how precious he looked. “I asked her a few months back if she...would like to move forward with an agreement, and she accepted. We were supposed to be getting married this week,” he whispered, looking down at his hands clasped between his knees. 

“Inuyasha...I…”

“Please,” he insisted. “There are photos that we exchanged,” he blushed. “And she...she looked just like you.”

She swallowed and nodded, her fingers scrolling through the exchange of messages...and she was stunned. 

Everything he had told her appeared to be true. He had been in touch with a Kagome Higurashi...He had agreed to come to New York to be with her...And the bitch had stolen photos of her. 

“Oh my God,” she breathed, and he winced. “I...I know when all of these photos were taken...My brother’s birthday...Pool party with Eri...Weekend away with Yuka…”

Wait. 

No. 

No.

Her heart was racing as an absolutely absurd idea struck her. 

Her friends wouldn’t have...Couldn’t have…

She scrolled up further and found a picture of the four of them at her birthday. 

The pictures. The missed phone calls. 

Please. 

Dear god let her be wrong…

Her phone started ringing again, startling them both. 

Eri...

[cosmopoliturtle]

The Forest Mother

A series I did inspired by “Elden Ring”, Fromsoft’s enigmatic next title, believed to carry on the Soulsborne legacy. The entire family tree from Demon’s Soul to Sekiro are easily among my favourite titles in the entire medium, and have inspired my own work intensely. 

The bear and the woman are part of a 2-phase boss concept I submitted to VaatiVidya’s art contest to design a fake boss for Elden Ring. The first piece is the enemies I imagined would reside in the area the boss inhabits, but are not part of entry itself. 

I was inspired by bear worship throughout European culture, descending back to Palaeolithic times. The crux of my design is focused primarily on the pagan worship of bears in ancient Finland. 

The Journey:

You, a lone rider, braves the haunting wastes of a world left broken after a great war. Your only source of companionship is a horse you’ve ridden with for what feels like an eternity, though despite countless hardships, has remained a stalwart friend. The land you roam together has been claimed by beasts who hunt upon old battlegrounds, and husks of lost souls left to sleep in beds of soot and ash in forgotten ruins. Howling, frigid winds echo between creaking trees, and combined with the beat of hooves, provides a dull but eerie rhythm to the empty roads you travel. What almost looks like a dream phasing into reality is a far-off forest bathed in rays from the Sun, where the clouds allow for dappled light instead of an intense shroud above. As you approach, the trees slowly become more vibrant and lush, the flora sparkling with an emerald sheen as dew drops and a constant, light rain provide them with an ethereal lustre.

The deeper you venture, you begin to find surprising signs of life. Tents of animal hide, wooden totems, and clean cut stone altars create a makeshift village within the dells of the forest. Aside from the occasional fresh deer kill laying upon tables and animal skulls hanging from trees, there are few signs of anything insidious happening. The people who live here sing, pray, and dance together, or hold processions led by a wise-woman, who guides them around the forest. They are all dressed from head to toe in simple, white garments with a few accents of bright colour. They look nothing like the depraved wild men or the harrowed warriors you have battled with before, and they are somewhat ghostly and meek in appearance, most of them stopping what they are doing to shrink away or cower at the sight of you. Some lunge out unceremoniously with knives or spears, trying to get you to turn back, but they are easily felled, their cloth garments not meant for battle. The greatest threats here are the crowds led by the wise-women, who are emboldened by her presence and arcane words. Among the feeble worshippers are occasionally hulking guards, covered in bandages and adorned with animal hides, who wield tools like cleavers, saws, and hammers as weapons. The further you travel, the more resistant the forest folk become to your presence, and despite death after death at the hands of the frenzied mob, you persist forward, as you have before.

Finally, at the heart of the forest, there is a wide glade which has been blessed by a gentle breeze. Compared to the tight alleyways made by the forest folk’s tents and the natural overgrowth, this woodland prairie feels like a welcome place for your horse to stretch their legs and enjoy the soft wind, but it is also feels like a vulnerable place, where one may be caught in the open. As the centre of this field is reached, the ground quakes and the trees rattle as a gigantic, haggard bear emerges from the darkness of the deep woods. The ridge along her back still gleams in the sunlight, but her mane gives way to spots of mange and old scars, transitioning into what looks like hardened, scale-like calluses. She eyes you up and down sternly before she braces her legs and roars. Her bellowing cry is so loud it feels as if your chest is about to explode and the world around you will be shattered into dust. The rain stops, a ring of mist forms around the trees of the valley to halt any idea of escape, and the sun shines down upon your duel with the Forest Mother.

The Battle:

Despite her worn look and heavy frame, the Forest Mother makes it apparently clear how fast she can chase you down, charging and lunging at you with unnatural speed. Her movements will completely control how you fight if you choose to combat her on foot, but you can match her better on horseback, turning the battle into a deadly jousting match. She attacks using her entire body: swiping from either side with her claws, pouncing towards you with her full weight, rearing up to slam her column-like limbs down on you, or simply using her entire front half to ram you into submission. Some of her strikes dig into the ground, and fling dirt, grass, and rain water into the air, these attacks having more of a wind up but easily being fatal if they land against you. Any attacks behind her often result in a quick turnaround sweep of her claws, but she can also let the full weight of her massive body simply fall upon you as she disrespectfully crashes her backside atop your head.

You strike her again and again, whittling her down bit by bit. Eventually, she will slow down to stand on her back legs, only going on all fours to either crash her limbs downwards or to quickly leap and readjust her positioning. Her attacks become somewhat more predictable as she slashes at you, but are still incredibly powerful. This short phase seems like a desperate reprieve from the whirlwind you had to face moments ago, but the Forest Mother is using this time to test you, as you shockingly have managed to last as long as you have. As the battle reaches its midpoint, the Forest Mother’s proud stance begins to hunch, and she starts writhing and shifting in odd, unsettling ways. Her convulsions cease when the blade of an axe splits open her throat from the inside and tears down her gut. From the slit a giant, woman-like figure forces her way out of the bear’s hide, but keeps it sitting upon her like a cloak. She readies her axe and lets loose a passionate but monstrous battle cry, causing the breeze to pick up tremendously and the trees around you to burst into autumn colours. The fight with the Forest Mother resumes with red and gold leaves flourishing each gust of wind.

With her new form, the fight has become an entirely new affair. In a silent frenzy she charges forward, easily keeping up with you on horseback if you choose to remain mounted. Her axe sweeps across the ground and is brought down in a mighty overhead strike. Her strength is so overwhelming that some of her strikes bite into the earth, and the heaving motion of dislodging the axe deals heavy damage and creates a blinding geyser of dirt. After frenzied lashes and heavy strikes, the force of her axe moving through the air creates slicing winds that stampede towards you, able cut into you from a distance. Despite her massive frame and equally large weapon crashing against you, she will also inject quick hits with hand strikes and kicks to try and catch you off guard and throw you off balance. If she wishes to try and fell you in a single hit, she will dig her axe into the ground and charge towards you, ending with a massive upwards sweep, or in a rare moment of stillness, she will let the winds whir around her and plant her axe into the ground, resulting in a phenomenal tornado of razor winds and burning, scarlet leaves. Fighting the Forest Mother on foot or horseback is viable, and it takes an incredibly keen eye to find the right moment to parry any of her colossal attacks. Despite her connection to the forest, she is resilient to fire magics, but ice or raw arcana can pierce through her hide now and again. The Forest Mother is enduring and belligerent, with few counter measures to truly turn the tides. It is a true battle, one that requires a mastery of both ferocity and patience.  

Once her frenzy is finally quelled, she falls to her knees, clinging to her axe to keep her from collapsing entirely. Despite her best efforts to stand up again, she crumbles and withers into ash. Falling into a heap, the wind dies, and the forest quickly begins shedding all of its foliage and colour. You have absorbed her essence, and gotten what brought you here in the first place.

The Aftermath:

Below the Forest Mother’s remains, a frost has spread through the ground and into the now barren trees. This place has become as desolate as the rest of the world. What forest folk remain in their village are now either huddled against the cold earth or are praying at their altars, sobbing and shaking violently, too overwhelmed to bother noticing you. The patrolling assemblages lay cut down by the larger forest folk, who now feed on their remains. They are the only ones left to challenge you, discarding their tools and fighting with bare hands in a rage. If not eating their former neighbours, they can be found on the fringes of the woods, skirmishing with wild boars and packs of dire wolves that have encroached into the forest. The empty edges of this place that once bewildered you with its idyllic glow and the gentle pitter-patter of rain on full-blooming trees has been replaced with barren twigs and stagnant air filled with the howls of hungry animals and the cries of demented brutes, joining the dismal state of everything it sought to hide from. You have found what you were looking for, and with the power of the Forest Mother seeped into your soul, you ride onwards. You are much stronger for coming here, though whether it was an essential step on your quest eludes you. There is a greater toiling in this world that you must become a part of, and whatever must be sacrificed to reach those ends will be. You persist forward, as you have before.

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 4

Summary: After discovering that you were stuck in the fantasy world you had no recollection of, your memory was jogged after weeks of depression: this land was Middle-Earth. A council of wizards and Elves was summoned, and Thranduil expressed his wishes of wanting you gone. Elrond agreed to take you in and Gandalf was excited to share in his adventures with someone who knew nothing of the world, quite like a Hobbit, but you wanted to stay in Mirkwood, with Legolas and Tauriel, of which you'd made friends with. Legolas leaves in three days to locate the orcs who enroach upon Mirkwood's northern flank, and the council sees this as a chance for you to prove your worth. If you fail, you are to leave Mirkwood...

Chapter No.: Chapter 4

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: I want to thank all my readers for their feedback, likes, and reblogs! I'm only on Chapter 4 and all of you combined have made me feel really good about my writing. I've gotta admit, I was a little scared of going through with this multi-chapter fic at first, because while a few people really liked and enjoyed my stories on DeviantArt, they never got the reception The Art of Being an Eldar has. I just thought my writing sucked for the most part. Thank you all so much!

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, The fucking Silmarillion, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words. Rating: Teen (14+) for now

"You what?"

Apparently Leggy didn't comprehend the concept of being accompanied by a suddenly Elvish human from another dimension.

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you repeated, "I said, I'm coming with you when you leave for your orc-hunting mission."

Legolas narrowed his eyes. "And who gave you permission to do this?"

"The council, that's who. So suck it up buttercup, I'm coming with your sorry ass."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Very well. Tell me, aside from randomly swinging a sword, do you know anything about weaponry?"

You raised an eyebrow. Shit, you'd have to fight? "No, but I can say a mouthful of greetings in Elvish."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Nin ista, Sairen, but words are not mightier than fighting skill in battle."

You scoffed. "I can think of a pretty famous phrase from my world that totally contradicts that..."

Legolas shook his head as he sauntered past you, down the stairs of the bridge you'd found him on. The sounds of his bows and knife sheaths clanking together as he walked relaxed you. "Of course you do, mellon." He paused to look at you. "Are you not coming? We leave in three days. If you are intent on coming with me, surely you cannot believe I will let you go without even so much as learning the proper way to stab an opponent?"

You made a face, but followed him anyway. "I know how to stab."

"How, then?" He gestured to you pointedly and crossed his arms.

"Um..." You mimed the gesture you'd probably use while stabbing an orc in the guts. "Like... This? With a twist?"

"That may work if your enemy has the weak skin and flesh of a human, or even on an Elf," He pointed out, "But we are fighting orcs, Sairen. Their hide is as thick as that of a boar, and their flesh is equally so." With a flourish, he flipped out one of his long knives. He paused in handing it to you. "I am not letting you keep this, mellon. My mother gave them to me."

You froze in reaching for the weapon. "You have a mother?"

Legolas chuckled at your wide-eyed expression. "You thought I did not?"

You stiffened before hurriedly turning away. "No! Of course not! Why would you think that?!"

Legolas laughed as he followed you. "Well, I do have one. She has been away on the other end of the palace-city. I should introduce you to her."

"Is she as fabulous as your dad?" You ran the tip of your index finger along your eyebrows. "And maybe even with the same super dark eyebrows?"

Legolas smiled. "No, no. She is perfectly beautiful."

"So you're saying your dad's not?"

"What?"

"Nothing." You waved a hand. "Where's the training grounds again?"

Legolas grinned evilly. "Well, your training begins now, Sairen. See if you can actually get to said training grounds without killing yourself on that blade."

Your jaw fell. "Are you fucking kidding me?! That's child's play! Don't you think I already know how to not do that?!"

"That is a double negative sentence, but no, I do not believe you already know this skill." Blue-Eyes shot you another grin. "Besides, we are not taking the average path to the training grounds. They are outside of the palace, after all. We will go out and around, on the hardest path imaginable. For a human, they would be entirely impassable."

You stared up at him dumbly. "Uh... Do... Do you even realize I spent the last nineteen years of my life around people with the mindset of shit water I might die because I'm a-- I was a-- human? Also, I was never agile. I won't be able to make it over a log, if it's big enough."

Blue-Eyes gave you a disapproving look. "Do the humans of your world never traverse nature?"

You pretended to think about that

"Hm... Let me see... Uhm... Yeah, nope, pretty much never, unless you're one of those super outdoorsey kinds of people, and the true ones of those are rare. For instance, most usually wear really tight clothes and walk through parks with stone paths and everything primped to perfect condition so that nobody even gets grazed by a dandelion, and everything's sprayed to keep the bugs away and animals are limited to squirrels and bunnies, then they wanna act like they just walked the fuckin' Sahara Desert without water. Real outdoor people are rare. Steve Irwin? Real. Bear Grylls? Real. Josh Gates? Real. Hell, when I was a very tiny little girl I used to watch a kid's show with two brothers who pretty much lived in the jungle. But out of everybody, those are the ones I can think of right off the top of my head. Them, and the few tribal races still out there."

Blue-Eyes made a surprised face. "Well... I am glad you got a chance to experience what real life is like."

"Thank you, Blue-Eyes." You'd reached the front gates of the palace, which were opened by a couple of those ninja Elf guys. You and Legolas walked on through, and into the forest, with its pink and amber leaves, down here, nullified into black and gray, piling up in the muck of the forest floor.

You'd been surprised when you'd seen this part of Mirkwood. Apparently, only the northern half was unaffected, but the rest of the once-spectacular Greenwood the Great was now victim to a strange plague, orc attacks from the north, and giant spider infestations from the south, from an ancient ruin called Dol Goldur. Animals no longer lived here, the rivers had mostly gone thick with filth, and the trees rotted and groaned in agony. The forest would confuse you, threaten to swallow you up and make you lose your way...

If you weren't an Elf.

Luckily for you and ol' Leggy, the two of you were Elves, and he had been raised here. If you stuck close to him, you'd be fine, even if the forest did manage to confuse you. He could hardly remember a time when the slow-acting plague hadn't been part of some region of the forest, and Tauriel had told you that he was 2, 371 years old. That was a long time for a forest to be sick.

"What even caused Mirkwood to get sick? Do you even know?"

"It is a nameless malice," Blue-Eyes replied, stopping all show-offy on a thick, low-hanging bough that precariously hung over a small gorge. "The darkness stems from Dol Goldur. Now, there are rumors; rumors of a necromancer, who resides in the ruins of that ancient fort."

"Necromancer?" That hardly sounded good. In anything where it was used, necromancer usually meant one who raises dead. "That doesn't sound good. Have you investigated it?"

"Of course not," Blue-Eyes gave you an odd look, like you'd just suggested he drink out of the toilet or something. You struggled to get up the side of a log he'd just casually hopped onto. "Why should we? They are merely rumors, and the forest has been sick for a long, long while. Still... This darkness unsettles me, as it does to all Sindar whom reside here."

"Dude, then maybe you should check the fuckin ruins," You mumbled, but he ignored you and continued hopping around from flowertop to flowertop. You just trampled noisily and clumsily along behind him. "Don't you guys like, live for light? So shouldn't you see if the ruins really do have a necromancer now? Especially since this dark ooze comes from it?"

Blue-Eyes shook his head. "King Thranduil does not wish for time to be wasted on rumors when we have other matters to deal with."

"Oh, so you mean he's too busy having everybody vote on which crown of berries goes best with his eyebrows."

"What?"

"Nothing. You Elves are just stupid."

Legolas grinned. "Well, humans are equally intellectually challenged."

You paused in chasing after him, stunned. He turned to face you when he didn’t hear you following. "Did you seriously just do that?"

"Do what?"

"You literally just used big words to sound smart." You laughed theatrically. "Oh! Pardon me, fine companion, I meant to implicate that you utilize gargantuan idioms to fabricate intelligence."

He smiled slightly as you finally made it up beside him. "I suppose you are not so daft," He relented teasingly, "Otherwise you would not even have those words in your vocabulary."

You made a face and rolled your eyes. "Whatever, blondie."

The training grounds were closer than you remembered, even taking the roundabout route. Along the way, though, you'd fallen into a bog, got your face scratched up by evil tree branches, and tumbled head-over-heels down a steep ravine, getting battered and bruised all over your body.

Apparently Middle-Earth-- Mirkwood specifically-- was prone to give previously non-Elvish members of other worlds injuries.

You made quite a show; barreling through a thorn bush and landing flat on your face right on the edge of the training grounds. You heard all the Elves turn their weapons on you, in case you were an orc, but then they seen your sorry ass, and Leggy casually coming down the steep ridge as if it was just a flight of stairs.

"Mae govannen," Said Legolas cheerfully to the Elves. Casually, he picked up his knife, which you'd thrown away from you halfway down so you didn't impale yourself at any point during the fall. Still, it'd skittered down alongside you. "Sairen, it seems you've failed this test."

"I dropped it on the goddamn border..."

"Nevertheless," Blue-Eyes ignored your response. "We are here now, and forfeiting other forms of training for the sake of redoing one failed task is pointless. You will learn as much as you can here, until I say we stop."

You finally moved, trying to at least sit up on your elbows. "It's only noon. We've got till nightfall, yeah? I can do that. No problem."

Legolas grinned down at you. "Mellon, you are of the Eldar now. You are stronger than before and do not need sleep unless you wish to dream."

"I don't what?!"

"Elves do not sleep unless we have been injured and need to heal," He replied, and grabbed you by the underarms to help you up. "We are stronger and more resilient than the race of Men. You are no longer imprisoned by the necessities of the human body."

Instant headrush slammed into you. "Apparently not all human body shit..."

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you speak of?"

"Headrush, dammit."

"Oh," He grew amused. "Do you mean the Blackness? Unfortunately, that befalls us all."

You glared daggers at him.

Another Elf approached, with a slender face and long brown hair. "My lord, most of the training grounds are taken up. You may yet have mine, if you wish so."

Legolas smiled. "Ah, my thanks. [Y/N], this is one of the Elves that accompanied Lord Elrond here, Lindir."

You extended your hand. "Nice to meet you."

Both Blue-Eyes and Lindir looked at your hand in confusion. Lindir, with a glance to Legolas, slowly tried to hand you his bow. With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head, you realized they didn't even understand what a handshake was. "No no no, sorry; that's called a handshake. It's what two people do when they meet each other where I come from. I didn't mean to confuse you. SO." You bowed in the Elvish way. "Mae govannen, Lindir of House Elrond."

Lindir and Blue-Eyes smiled. Lindir returned your bow. "Mae govannen, [Y/N] of House Thranduil."

"Lindir will be accompanying us to trace the orcs, and Erestor of Rivendell," Said Legolas, "As will another of our own house, Elros; I believe you have met him already. He was the Elf who lead you to the councilroom. From Lothlorien is a friend of mine, Haldir, and of course, with the other Elven Lords aiding us, Mithrandir feels he should send his own aid as well..."

Lindir's eyes widened. "Do not tell me..."

Blue-Eyes nodded seriously. "He is sending Naughrim to accompany us."

"Naughrim?" You asked. Of all names, that didn't sound familiar. "Who's that? Somebody not well-liked among Elves?"

Blue-Eyes fought a smile. Lindir answered you. "Mellon, Naughrim is our tongue for dwarves."

Your mouth formed an 'o' in recognition. "Ohhhh, now I get it. Elves and dwarves hate each other for no explainable reason. Got it. Who's he sending?"

Blue-Eyes shook his head in exasperation. "They are all of Erebor. Balin and Dwalin, two are named, and of the other, he is the most insufferable of dwarves; Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain. Mithrandir believes that this will be a good experience for him as it is for us, but he refuses to come himself. He's all but forcing the situation."

You looked from Blue-Eyes to Lindir and back. "How can he force you? Dwarves and Elves are both stubborn beyond all reason, and none of you seem to take him seriously."

Legolas shook his head and pursed his lips. "Unfortunately, Dwalin is as good a tracker as any, and Ada  is not permitting many of the Sindar on this journey for the reason that we are merely meant to find where the yrch dwell, and go no further. We will need all the aide we can find, even if it is in the form of unwilling dwarves. As for them, he has promised treasure, the details of which I know not; I can only hope it is not any of ours he has promised them." He smiled at you. "Shall we?"

Before you could follow, he walked off; you glanced to Lindir questioningly. "...Ada? Who's that?"

Lindir smiled softly. "It means father. He is referring to King Thranduil."

"Oh. Now I feel stupid."

"Do not, mellon, for the language of the Elves is not easily learned unless you were born speaking the tongue."

With a roll of your shoulders, which ached, you followed Leggy.

***

"Ow, goddamn it, and goddamn you, you stupidly perfect Elf."

At the end of the day, you'd been cut, pricked, whipped by a bowstring, nicked, dinged, and all kinds of other small injuries that added up to one big mess of drying blood and bruises.

Blue-Eyes had had you train deep into the night, until the silvery waning moon had all but left the star-filled sky. Now, as the sunrise approached, you both sat on two convenient boulders, and he bandaged your bloodied hands. In the eerie half-dawn light, he looked ethereal, and his pale hands and silver tunic sleeves compared to your now dark-with-blood-and-mud-and-bruises hands and black sleeves was a huge contrast. Your hands shook slightly, aching and stinging and pained on various sorts of levels, while his were perfectly steady as he wrapped them in soft green leaves.

"Stop shaking, mellon," Legolas told you gently.

"What was that?" Your head snapped up. "Are you feeling sorry for me? Don't feel sorry for me! This is nothing! I've been shot in the calf by an orcish arr--OW!"

The leaves had drawn too tight and released some kind of juice that stung like hell. His hands hovered over yours. "My apologies, but it draws out the infection."

"What infection?!"

"You are not yet used to your Elven body yet," Blue-Eyes replied, looking into your eyes. "Since you are the equivalent of a newborn, I would say you are very susceptible to infections, sickness, and injuries."

You looked off dramatically into the distance. "That explains why I can't stop fucking getting hurt..."

"That it does," He smiled at you, and something pulsed in your chest. Da fuck... You fought a flush. He stood, then held out his hand to you. "Shall we return to the palace? You may rest until sunhigh, and then we will continue your training." You took his hand, and he helped you up; you stumbled into his chest, and backed up quickly. He took no notice, but patted your shoulder before going to retrieve his bow and quiver. "You did well today, Sairen, even if you frightened off half of the other Sindar and Silvan training here."

You made a face. "Pfft. They just can't handle my awesomeness."

"If you say so, mellon," He said, and started to take the easy way back, to your relief. You followed closely behind him.

You looked up at the stars as you walked in silence for awhile, until finally, you broke it. Of course, you broke anything, really... "Where I come from, they say there's a star for every soul that's passed away."

Legolas glanced to you, then followed your gaze wistfully. "That is something our two worlds have in common."

"Scientifically," You added, "They're spheres of hot air and gaseous materials wound up tight by gravity that glow and put off heat, but the idea always felt nice to me... But where I come from... You also can't see the stars."

Blue-Eyes halted in his tracks as if you'd just said someone murdered his mother. "I... What? You can't see the stars?!" He actually looked genuinely horrified by that idea.

You shook your head. "No. Humans... They've polluted the atmosphere too much. Filled it with trash, and man-made lights and even remnants of smoke... You can't see them."

He watched you even as you watched the stars. "I've never seen them like this... They're beautiful." You could see bands of galaxies and clouds of distant nebulae, and the small silver fires glittered in the billions, even as the pink-orange glow of the beginning of dawn was starting to show in the east. You were in awe.

You jumped when Legolas took your hand. "What?"

He smiled at you. "Come with me. I will show you one of the best stargazing places in all of Mirkwood."

"Thranduil's pavilion?"

"Better."

"Whoa. Dude, count me in."

He lead you off of the trail, deep into the woods, through the easiest ways that probably were a pain for him, but he did it anyway. Finally, you stopped at the base of a massive tree, stretching so far up you couldn't see its top. Its trunk was pockmarked with holes and vines, and after slinging his bow onto his back, he threw you a smile over his smile. "Come, Sairen."

You couldn't help but smile back. You climbed, quickly, all the way up, past the canopy, into the uppermost branches of the tree, where the copper-gold leaves thinned out to allow for one thick branch to get a view of the night sky. The branch was thick enough across to allow for two or three people to sit side-by-side against the trunk, and Blue-Eyes sat quickly as he helped you up.

Here, no branches obscured any part of your field of view. You got a perfect view of the sunrise, and the starry sky. "Holy shit..."

You felt him put an arm around you, and you stiffened, just before he breathed in your ear, "I will not let you fall from this tree, Sairen. You've only just arrived in this world, and should another portal be below that is activated by a beautiful sunrise, I am loathe to let you go, for there is so much I want to show you..." The sun burst over the distant mountains beyond Erebor, sending fiery orange and red across the sky. "Such as this. Your world does not sound as if it could have any sunrise as wonderful as this one."

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as you watched the sunrise, jaw slack. "No... Not like this."

Legolas smiled, and finally turned his focus to it himself. Your eyes slowly dragged off of the beautiful scenery to look at the Elf beside you, and the warm feeling worsened; your heart started fluttering. Eldar only fall in love once... Galadriel had warned you.

...Shit.

A blush crawled up your face, and you tried your hardest to focus on the sky rather than the Elvish princeling pressed close against your side.

***

"Mae govannen, [Y/N] of the Woodland Realm," Greeted Lindir kindly as you approached the group of Elves gathering in front of the front gates.

"Mae govannen, Lindir of Rivendell," You replied with a smile. The Elvish greetings rolled off your tongue easily now. After the sunrise you and Blue-Eyes had watched together, you'd spent the last two days training at obscene hours and resting. Now, finally, the group of Elves leaving to track the orcs were gathering-- there were only about fifty in total, of which there were those wearing Woodland garments, the red-and-gold of Lothlorien, and the greens, purples, and browns of Rivendell. Apparently Galadriel, Celeborn, and Elrond didn't agree with Thranduil sending what would've only been a dozen to track some very dangerous orcs.

You heard several of them muttering to each other about Naughrim, something all of them had in common.

You swung your light traveling pack off of your shoulders and by your feet, scanning the crowd for a certain platinum-blonde head-- unfortunately, most of the Elves from Lothlorien had blonde hair. You looked at Lindir. "Where's Legolas?"

Lindir glanced around. "He is on his way, I am sure. After all, it is he and Haldir whom are leading this journey."

You nodded. "I've never packed for something like this before... I hope I didn't pack anything weird or forget something."

Lindir looked confused, then recognition flashed across his face. "Oh. Forgive me, I had forgotten you do not have this experience. Tell me, what did you pack?"

You shifted your weight nervously, and lowered your voice. "Uhh... Two extra pairs of clothes in case these get ruined, some extra food, even though I've noticed I don't have to eat as much as before, and some water. Then there's these," You gestured to your back, where a quiver and longbow hung from your back. You felt its weight all too strongly, and that of the sword on your hip and the knives on your thighs. "And some of those special leaves that're used for bandages."

Lindir smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Mellon, you have packed what we all have, and lightly, as well."

You smiled. "Thanks. Just consider yourself lucky that I don't know how to read Elvish, or I would've packed a book or two to keep me company."

Lindir chuckled and stepped back. "Well, for now, I am glad of it. On this journey you will learn much, hopefully, and by the time we return, you may be able to speak more of Elvish. It is harder to learn to read it, I have heard, much harder."

You ran a finger over your chin in thought. "I wonder if Thranduil would let me go to Dale or Laketown to get some books in English..."

"Forgive me," Lindir looked confused. "I do not know what that is."

You realized what you'd said a second too late. "Oh! Sorry. Where I come from, Common is just referred to as English."

"Oh, I see now. I am sure he would, and if he does not yet, then perhaps one of the Woodland Elves could bring some back for you. What of Legolas? Are you not friends?"

You blushed. "Yeah, I hope so. I've never been very good at making friends, though. Nobody's ever really liked me." You realized Lindir was staring at you with an absolutely terrified expression. Your own eyes widened in alarm, and you frantically patted your face. "What?! Is there something on my face?!"

Lindir shook his head. "I-I am not sure. Your skin has suddenly gone red, as if burned. Are you ill?"

"Uhhh..."

You were spared the embarrassment of explaining blushing by all the Elves gathered suddenly gasping and bowing in the direction of the stairs. Lindir saw the cause before you did, and his jaw fell. "By all the Valar..." He bowed deeply, and you followed his motion, but not before catching a glimpse of who it was. Thranduil, of course, and Legolas, following a she-Elf in a tunic that looked as if it were made of starlight itself, with flowing white hair and alabaster skin.

"Ui!" Shouted Thranduil irritably. "Ni telima lume, autauva!"

You leaned closer to Lindir. "What did he say?"

"He is forbidding her to join us," He answered quickly.

The she-Elf whipped around, generating a power almost as strong as Galadriel's. Legolas stepped forward. "Amal... Mecin."

She shook her head. "Yon, venno, nin carindo ier nin indo. Alye uva pusta ni."

"What did she say about pasta?" You whispered.

"Sh!" Lindir said quickly.

The woman looked at Thranduil and Legolas lovingly, before approaching Thranduil and placing both hands on his face. Thranduil closed his eyes in regret, and the woman kissed him; you looked away, embarrassed. That was the Elvenqueen.

That was Legolas's mother.

"Melinyel, Thranduil, alye ista si."

Thranduil sighed. "Melinyel, mela... Mecin ea girthonwed."

With that, Legolas reluctantly took his mother's hand and lead her down the stairs. They disappeared in the crowd, until you heard the Elvenqueen's voice. "Rise, all of you." Unsure, the Elves rose one-by-one. "Which of you hail from far places, whom rescued my son Legolas Greenleaf from the fate of an early death?"

The Eldar glanced to one another, realized it wasn't their neighbor, and slowly, like somebody who'd gotten called out in class, you were being stared at, and a path was made between you and her majesty, while Legolas stood beside her.

You swallowed hard, suddenly terrified. Lindir patted your shoulder. "You have been summoned, mellon. Go, I will make sure your pack does not get swapped with someone else's."

You tried to look and walk confidently, but you were terrified. She was beautiful and indimidating, and you had to admit, you were definitely intimidated. When you reached her, you bowed as deeply and respectfully as you could, a fist over your heart. "Elen sila lumenn omentielvo, your majesty." You didn't know what else to say. What you'd said to Galadriel and Celeborn was the most respectful thing you knew in Elvish, and you'd never been in the presence of royalty.

"You come from another world," She looked down at you indifferently, and you suddenly felt very small and very weak with everybody's eyes on you. This was nothing like Thranduil's fabulously indifferent look. "Yet still, you saved my son's life. After, you make the presumption that you can live and walk among us as one of us, freely, unburdened, merely because you came here by happenstance and you were allowed the reward of living. Do you feel as if this is the correct course of action for you to take?"

You glanced to Legolas, absolutely horrified. "Y-your majesty..." Your hot-headed tongue, a lot more toned down, popped into existence. "I saved your son's life because he didn't deserve to die. I was given the freedom to live, and to repay that, I mean to make the most of my time here by helping in whatever ways that I can. King Thranduil has given me the chance to prove myself worthy of living here by allowing me to join in hunting for the orcs. If I fail, I will leave Mirkwood, and go with Lord Elrond to Rivendell."

Legolas's eyes widened a fraction of an inch, before going back to their normal selves; he looked to you with almost a sadness, but you couldn't figure out why. Elvenqueen smiled, as if proud. "Then you are not what the rumours of your world have made you out to be. You are humble and grateful, qualities I did not expect from one of this Earth. You possess a unique personality, [Y/N]. Tell me, who are your parents, so that I may refer to you properly?"

"I have no father," You said quickly, relieved that she was just trying to scare you. "None I care to speak about. But I do have a mother, who I love very much. Her name is [M/N]."

Elvenqueen smiled. "Very well, [Y/N], child of [M/N]. Here, we, all of us, have a secondary name, such as my son; Legolas Greenleaf. During this journey, you may earn your own."

You smiled back, relieved beyond relief that she'd decided not to kick your ass for existing. "My thanks, your majesty."

She sailed away regally, and Legolas shot you a glare. "Why did you not tell me you would be leaving us?" He demanded.

You balked. "I-I said if I failed..."

"And you are most likely to do so," He snapped, sending your heart and soul plummeting to roughly the center of Middle-Earth. Without another word, he followed his mother.

"Mellon?" Said Lindir from behind. You turned around; He held his bag and yours, which you gratefully took from him.

"Thanks," You said, but your eyes followed Legolas's back as he disappeared into the crowd.

"Is everything alright?"

"Just fine," You shrugged. You were used to being abandoned.

Lindir looked doubtful. "Very well, if you say so. May I introduce you to those you will be most judged by?"

"Sure."

He took you through the crowd, to the guy who helped you find the councilroom. "Ah, [Y/N]. Mae govannen."

You bowed your head and returned the greeting to Elros in a monotone voice. "So your name is Elros?"

"Yes," He replied. "Son of Elrond."

If you were taking a drink of water, you'd've spewed it everywhere. "Huh? But isn't Rivdendell like, waaay over the Misty Mountains?"

Elros chuckled. "Yes, but those of the Eldar cannot always remain in one place. We yearn for far places, and even farther shores. Long years I have spent in the halls of my father, but I left for Mirkwood when my sister, Arwen Evenstar, left for Lothlorien, to spend a time with our mother's mother, Galadriel."

Your eyes were wide. "Galadriel is a grandma?! Your grandma?!"

Lindir and Elros looked at each other in amusement. "Elves," Said Lindir, "Live forever, so long as we are not killed by injury, or the wounds of the heart."

"Wounds of the heart?" You echoed.

"When love remains unrequited, it is sometimes too much to bear," Replied Elros, "And the victim suffers long before dying of a broken heart. Oftentimes, it is when a wife perishes during childbirth, or when war or battle takes the life of a beloved, and their souls pass into the Halls of Mandos. I still worry for my father, even though my mother has long since passed due to child-sickness."

Your eyes widened. "I'm so sorry."

Elros raised a hand. "She is at peace now. She resides in the halls where her mother lives, and many of my kin who have long since passed on."

"Is Elrond gonna be okay?" Now you were worried. You didn't even know the guy (Even though you probably knew him before your amnesia.) but you didn't want him to die of heartbreak. He was being nice to you, and offering you a place to live if Thranduil decided to be more of an ass.

"He is strong," Lindir assured you, and partially Elros. "He is stout of heart and fierce of soul. He will live long yet, that I can assure you with the utmost certainty."

Together, Lindir and Elros took you to where another dark-haired Elf in the Rivendell attire spoke with a Lothlorien Elf in red-and-gold armor. White hair was braided away from his stern face. Elros said something in Elvish, getting their attention, and they both bowed to you. "[Y/N], child of [M/N], may I introduce you to Erestor, Chief Counselman of Elrond, and Haldir of Lothlorien."

"Mae govannen," They both said.

Haldir regarded you warily. "I have heard you come from far lands, one beyond even Arda."

You tried not to look stupid. "Arda?"

"This world upon which we live," Haldir clarified.

"Oh!" Now you knew what they were talking about. "You mean this whole planet? Mine never had a cool name; Earth, that's it, with a bunch of different countries on it. Are there countries besides Middle-Earth here?"

Erestor chuckled. "Yes. There is Beleriand, just the remains of it, to the farthest west. Also in the west lie the Gray Havens, and across the Sea are the Undying Lands of Aman, far from Endor-- that is to say, collectively, Middle-Earth and Beleriand."

"Oh, cool! Where I come from, nowhere has cool names anymore, except for maybe Dubai, Greece, and Rome. In the past, there were hardly ever cool places, except for Egypt and Babylon."

The four Elves around you glanced to each other in amusement, as if you were a child just learning new things; and you pretty much were...

"Haldir," Said a familiar voice, and you perked up as Blue-Eyes stepped through the crowd. Your heart sank as he completely avoided your gaze. Damn, you should be used to this kinda shit by now. One small thing and someone abandons you. "We go to meet the dwarves. You have told your party, yes?"

"Of course, mellon."

"As have I," Added Erestor as Blue-Eyes went to ask. "None of us may like this, but it the word of a Maiar, of which the Noldor still yet revere. Worry not, Legolas."

Blue-Eyes nodded, glanced to you, and walked back through the suddenly-departing crowd as the doors opened. You hefted up your bag further onto your shoulder. "Mmkay, Lindir?" You fell into step with the purple-clad Elf.

"What is it?"

"Questions. Lots of them. What the hell is a Mayan and a No-door?"

Lindir chuckled. "Maiar, and Noldor. The Noldor are the oldest of the Elves. The Maiar are wizards, servants of the Valar; such as Saruman, Mithrandir, and Radagast."

"They met gods?"

"Yes," Said Lindir doubtfully, eyeing you. "Do the people of your world not know of their gods?"

You scoffed dryly. "You kidding me? Almost everybody believes in some bearded guy in white floating through existence and pointing to a random spot, then saying 'Let there be light!' Bam, universe created. Others have much more gruesome stories; like in Norse, Odin and his two brothers cut up a giant to create the world. Then there was Egyptian, where two godly people representing the earth and sky consummated and BAM, universe created again. They all say the gods came from the sky, which others believe to be aliens-- people from other planets entirely-- but I've always been an atheist."

"And what does that mean?"

"That I don't believe a goddamn word of any of that 'god' shit."

"You should not speak of them so, for they hear all."

"Yuck. Let's hope they don't find somebody on their wedding night."

Lindir's eyes bugged out of his head. "That was... Sudden."

You grinned. "I'm like that. Get used to it, Lindy."

He frowned. "My name is Lindir."

"I know that," You laughed. "It's a nickname. It's a sign of friendship."

Lindir smiled. "Oh. Then we are friends, then?"

"Sure! I've never been friends with so many people before!" You looked ahead excitedly, waving when you seen Legolas glaring at you. So what if he was pissed? You'd make him un-pissed.

Lindir gave you a sad look. "But you have only befriended Legolas and myself."

"And Tauriel."

"Still, that is only three people." He looked genuinely confused. "Do the people of your world not believe in friendship either?"

You sighed. "Not really. They're more interested in betrayal. Me, personally, I've had it all. Betrayal, death, abandonment... I've gone through some shitty times, that's for sure. One catastrophe after the next. One painful step at a time through it. I've been through hell and back, been shattered like glass and looked death in the eye, and somehow, I'm still standing. Sometimes it feels like I've lived a thousand lifetimes in only nineteen years." You gave him a sideways smile before looking back ahead of you, trying to block all of the flashbacks...

Lindir regarded you with newfound admiration. "I can... See it, in your eyes. I believe all of us can. The things that you have endured are marked on your stride, and not many could recover from what you have recently gone through so quickly. A human with your strength is... Unheard of."

You laughed. "Yeah, 'cause now I'm an Elf!"

Lindir laughed too then, as did a few other Elves and she-Elves near to you-- as you walked out of the doors of Mirkwood's palace, you got this strange, tingly sensation in your core... The odd feeling of people laughing with you, not at you. The feeling of not being judged. Of people realizing you've been through hell. Of people not automatically striking you onto their enemy list because you're different.

As you moved into the north, the light filtering through the leaves was golden, and everything seemed at once surreal and ethereal. But aside from those two feelings, you felt one stronger than any other. You smiled as you looked around at your new friends in this new world, which still felt so familiar. You were happier than you'd ever been. Even though you'd miss your family, you were glad the portal had been closed.

And there are many paths to tread...

Through shadow, to the edge of night...

Until the stars are all alight...

You passed Blue-Eyes, who'd climbed a tree to scout, and when he seen your awestruck, childlike expression, even he, who was currently pissed at you, couldn't help but smile at down at you. You smiled back. That warm feeling returned.

Finally, I'm where I belong.

I'm...

I’m...home.

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​ @hauntedsiriel​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @naryamirie​ @legolasdeserveslove​ @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​ @sagabriar​ @brushwood-souls​ @taurlel​

If anybody wants to be tagged, just let me know!

Extra Notes: Elvish is SO FUCKING HARD. And yes I put the Elvenqueen in this. And dwarves are inbound. Don't guess the plotline, just DON'T.

Fun Facts: In Old Nordic mythology, there was a forest known as Mirkwood. There was also a dwarf called Durin, who created the line of the most power dwarfs, some of which, just to name a few, were Thorin, Fili, Kili, Dvalin, Balin, Oin, Oakenshield, and Gandalf. There were also many types of Elves-- Ljosalfar were the Light Elves, and Dokkalfar were the Dark Elves. In general, Elves were known as Alfar, and they lived in Alfheimr, "The Land of the Elves." Supposedly, Alfheimr had shining trees of silver and gold, like Lothlorien. Also, there was a dragon called Fafnir, a cursed fire-drake, coppery-red, who laid atop a mound of gold and guarded his wrongfully-taken treasure with his life. The original owner of this treasure was a dwarf, reduced to a husk of his former self, called Andvari, who, out of all of this treasure, loved most a golden ring, inscribed with runes. He cursed this ring, so that all who wore it would soon come into misfortune...

[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / OCTOBER 5, 2019 // return of josh

oooookay folks! that's a wrap! below are my comments about tonight's ep + additional expansions on previously stated opinions. i'm not combining s2 ep 1 with this bc s2 is dead to me! so is s3! i only did this to gather up all these loose thoughts i had when this show with its one lonely season became such a comfort to me that i developed a second consciousness about it. but with these posts i am done! the evil is defeated! i will carry on through the 3rd and hopefully final season of nancy drew with less emotion and better spirits. thank god.

-"talk to owen" nancy firstly thinks of talking to owen only to see what happens w the agleaca; saying goodbye comes as sorta an afterthought mirroring tiffany's possession of george. yet nancy was unable to say goodbe to owen just like w kate. knowing this reveal about kate, i wonder if this was foreshadowing that something big will be revealed about him later? unlikely but still

-nancy + the reality of broken things: 'totems' like broken sand glass sculpture (good place) to show you it's not a dream; "owen broke that" ghost trap to ground him to reality, like how she reached for her locket in the good place, lucy's charm, ace's bear ('totems' idea borrowed from inception)

-george has never been an affectionate person, even with other women- so why does pda with nick suddenly become so important?

-lots of comments about ryan + women but what about carson/kate and karen? again with the hypocritical (interestingly, there is an aspect of violence to women connected with ryan (even though that violence is not his fault); but its not like kate or karen fared well either)

-ryan feels useless- relationships with women as stated by nancy- he seeks to redeem himself by showing up where nancy goes to prove he is good to have around/necessary/needed - but now that he is attempting to act as a parent he has to break through nancy's defenses all over again- firstly she didnt really consider him any kind of threat bc he comes off as incompetent- ie bad business deals- i think i mentioned last ep, their hauntings equalize them as they both attempt to gain peace by searching for answers but now ryan has changed the terms of engagement so he's back to square one, with carson. (which is how we find them s2 cowering in ryans car stalking nancy together)

-ryan's relationship to nancy exposes an interesting layer here. so far she doesnt know about nick/george but they still hold the cards (ie george gets one over on nick's ex/"the new girl") with the revelation of ryan being nancys father, nancy gains an interesting trump card in navigating the social fallout of being nick's ex. like george would take the new spot but then nancy comes out with george's ex in a much higher category. this plays out later on in the ep when george confronts ryan. george wants to talk about "them" but ryan shows up completely focused on nancy, thus illustrating the trump

-"i thought it was whitney with another insipid question" to me this sounds like whitney took bess's advice earlier about "asking aunt diana what she wants" (only to learn it actually annoyed the hell out of diana lmaoo)

-"then you need to fight for it" this hearkens nancy earlier by asking "arent you in by virtue of dna?" the test was positive; she is a marvin just like nancy is a hudson. thats not a fact that they can change. however, diana really acts like it can be changed- and in s2 we see it does change. its interesting for bess to be told to fight to be in a family she's already in and also foiled by nancy trying to fight her way out of her own family. would like to see bess stand up to diana and say something. i mean, she exists. as much as she may want to erase bess from the family, diana cannot erase her existence

-hannah's rolled up sleeves 💙

-"previous keepers records" -from s2- were those not her parents??

-mistaken murderers- everyone incorrectly assumes lucy was murdered just as they assume the agleaca killed owen

-even if owen weren't the price, how can they pay the toll without one of the people who called? i mean if it was anything other than owen and he still died they still wouldve been fucked

-"you don't need to check, i'm not even driving!" okay and giving up the goss. cassidy is me. lmfaoooo

-wonder if this locked marvin industries box will ever come back

-UNPOPULAR OPINION: george's confrontation with ryan comes waytoo late to do anything. i think i brought this up in an earlier post. its literally just her screaming at him now. like he is clocked out moved on. you know a good time for this scene? in the claw when he comes by to "check on her". hes vulnerable, fresh from rehab. and she has a chit over him for punching bookcases/the fuckin country club deal. therewould have been a perfect time to confront ryan on what happened- "what you did to me" okay sis. you admitted ep 1 you werent in hs anymore. youre of age now. admit you fucked up. take the L to force him to swallow the bigger L. and imagine how much more powerful the scene would have been- in george's domain, literally her own office, something ryan doesnt even have because HE DOESNT DO SHIT. ryan is SO EASY to trap but nobody notices. instead they have george try to get some kind of apology out of him when hes already done with that, and only for the sake of her establishing a new relaionship to boot. imagine how much more empowered she would feel if she just got that closure for herself- because she needed it, not so she could trot straight back to nick being all proud of calling a grown man to some random estate only to scream at him in a parking lot and have accomplished nothing. 🤦🏼‍♀️

-i get patrice thinking nancy is lucy but yeahhhhh this isnt how dementia works 😬

-i almost cant with nance and josh. how do you save your would-be murderer? (+ lucy's best friend and brother are in jail, her mom is lost to her mentally; all she has left is nancy and ryan)

-tbh i had no idea how to spell agleaca until bess said "theres no i in agleaca!" i thought it was igleaka like 😂

-damn how george just stares at nicks hand and then gets out herself is just so sad (like she immediately rectifies it but still...)

-"curiosity" part II; nancy who comes back to the sea after her mother died in it- agleaca drawn to lucy's trauma/to agleaca, lucy died fir "love"- would nancy be willing to risk the same? // this is also one of nancy's "mirroring mom" moments: winning sea queen, going to the velvet masque, getting caught by celia, having a "chat" with everett, and "falling" off the bluffs

-the collector 🎵👌🏻

-i wonder if there's any significance to the locations/means of their deaths; nancy's is pretty straight forward in terms of where and how, but why george and nick drowning, in the truck specifically? drowning in love? idk. ace's at the claw i get, but he gets himself caught? in what precisely? what does the fish hook mean? and bess's makes the least sense- burning alive? in the marvin estate? maybe the agleaca picked the most painful death for the marvin blood relation? idk. up for debate lmk ya thoughts

and lastly:

-i remember seeing this ending for the first time and i had just been traumatized by avengers endgame and since black widow is also a redhead seeing that shit at the bottom of the cliff it was like 😰😰😰 TOO SOON

-random thoughts-

these are just things i noticed, feel free to grapple with them or take note of them for extrapolation in s3 (lord knows i wont be) they probably belonged in recaps for previous eps but i either didnt find them in my notebook or couldnt fit them in

•nancy and truth/the perception of truth: using facts to suit theories instead of creating theories to suit facts- nancy often plays with the perception of truth and the details that fall between the steps; but she is also a victim to them by people who also know how to play the game (ie Carson) ex lying about the dress (tea cups and knives, trash got picked up, bail paid 1 hr ago) her inferences can be off from what others tell her ("people always lie") but she can also come to the wrong conclusions organically (carsons trial) more willing to believe the best in others/wanting them to be innocent (think nick ep 1) but later finding out the truths hurts more so she chooses to isolate herself and avoid involving others to be spared pain

•maybe i'm dumb, but who is "mr marvin" exactly? owen? the bald guy from the funeral? this comes from the guy who takes sailboats out like ep 4ish and says "ive worked for the marvins 20 years" she compliments the ship, he says "mr marvin and i just took her out this morning" so?? who is that? plus last ep just saying cassidy and isaac are her "late husbands children" dows thet mean sebastian? like did diana marry in? i feel like it would be odd for her to so embrace the "marvin way" if she wasnt a true born marvin

•ik college becomes a more s2 topic but none of the crew have ever been to college 🤔

•nick + the relationships with people whose reputations are tarnished: tiffany with investigating the hudsons/marvins, josh with murder/attempted murder, kate and 'stealing'/lying about nancy (esp compared to her almost preternatural kindness i mentioned before), george and her mom/family's reputations --> this kind of segues into nick + the concept of believing people you love could be capable of horrific things- accidental or on purpose (see- having to tell his family what happened)

•at the beginning, nancy kind of seems to be the "i'm sorry you're upset" kind of apologist and knows it. she also doesnt usually apologize earnestly bc shes never really sorry (she always has to get what she needs first ie coins mess) and she doesnt want to lie; to me it seems she doesnt like to bother with other people bc they require certain cues/niceties that are often lies- they ask "how are you" without meaning it, they dont really want an honest response except "fine", they dont like it when you call them out on fakeness, etc/ they require apologies for their bruised feelings even if youre right (and nancy can be pretty rude/nasty if provoked- a harshness unsoftened by sympathy)

•cont'd from the good place ep- since kate apparently means nothing to nancy anymore according to last ep ("stop calling her my mother") is her policy of "always seek the truth" now null and void? this mantra is now tainted bc the person who gave it to her broke it so much. can nancy disengage w it now? does she fall from grace to be complicit in "mysteries" of her own like everyone else? does she lose some of her "god-like" holier than thou act bc she is now literally born and raised in the "darkness" of sins/ugly truths like everyone else's? (ie truth is ugly but not to nancy, until now)

•did lucy disappear because her "murder" was finally solved? or simply because her trauma was addressed- she never meant to tell anyone about her suicide plans, the twisted trauma of which was too great to contain/unable to move on due to "sin" - or unable to move on because secret of nancy's parentage still remained? "lucy never wanted me to figure out how she died" she only wanted nancy to figure out her parentage without solving the mystery, yet did lucy see/witness nancy's revelation at the claw, or with carson, or even ryan? waiting for karen/josh to know? or just vanished?

•concept of imperfect mom figures- lucy, kate, celia, victoria, even karen- who all struggle with failings

•since karen dispelled one of lucy's attempts at nancy's haunting at the garden party, is that proof she isn't haunting karen?

•the crew + needing adult help: george's possession and victoria, club busted and owen, car accident and mcginnis, thom and cipher, larkspur lane and sal, bones and john, agleaca and hannah

•everett is always sitting- at his home office, at dinner, at yacht club (wonder if that was his actor + had to do with his recasting?)

-dad talk-

•both her dads think negatively on her "girl detective" thing but ryan sees use in it as a means to get answers, carson would never 'use' her in that way

•nancy + carson : suffering

"what about what i wanted?" + carson being imprisoned for weeks but she immediately rejects him (the DAY he gets his freedom no less) with no regard to his suffering (caused by herdiary!!) in regards to her own from this new knowledge (she does suffer a lot- "almost dying is my new normal" but still)/ the "thankless job" of parenting

•nancy + adults - connected to cop thing a few posts earlier : nancy is v precocious and smart for her age- she is "old enough" but also has trouble with the "adults" in her life- fathers, moms, karen, and cops letting her down but depends heavily on "adults" she cantrust- hannah gruen, john sander, lisbeth- highlighting her youth and occasional naiveté; nancy is unafraid to hold adults accountable for their actions (ie karen) but also loses them as allies along the way. both hannah and john are very nonthreatening and also experts in their fields, while her fathers and karen are revealed to be "just another brick in the wall" average, capable of mistakes, and not the people she expects them to be, while characters like john and hannah can only benefit nancy because either they do not mean as much to her or have no reason/nothing to gain by lying; they are purposefully shown to be small, demure, gentle, and nonthreatening as foils/opposed to karen, ryan, and josh whom she previously trusted; carson (+kate) is nonviolent as well but has the biggest betrayal which is perceived as an act of violence to her very personhood/shattering who she thought she was so she cannot be that anymore (admits truths to john "everytime i dig i hurt everyone" and hannah-agleaca) : unclear if redemption is possible for anyone :

•nancy bonds with carson over loss and then ryan over haunting. but actually, nancy rejects carson over loss bc she wanted to say goodbye and wasnt allowed to- so carson was with kate but nancy was not. nancy and ryan are more equals about haunting bc they both start around the same time and conclude together as well [nancy and ryan bond over thinking their parents conspired to kill lucy- think sitting on the floor at velvet masque] nancy is appreciated by ryan for her ability to get answers- he has no qualms about going through her/outside of police bc he wants results/instant gratification and thinks nancy is more so the expert in her field/respects her even through her age- once again acknowledging she is braver than he is (think lucy + claw parking lot) and her portent in the car freaks him out bc shes usually always in control, esp with him

•bc nancy was told "you can't be afraid of the truth" until she was / ironic bc shes braver than him except when the truth is they are related then she's scared to tell him while he actually starts to take some initiative

•nancy picked "the wrong person" to help her through her grief in her dad's eyes like her mom's best friend was somehow a better choice? carson truly "parents" nancy even during grief and haunting (which she rejects) whereas nancy and ryan are really equals in all their situations which is actually better for her and easier for her to maintain- nancy's expectations are low so anything that ryan gives is a bonus. nancy's expectations of carson were shattered by his lies so now she has nothing to connect with him about- they could barely even connect when sharing the same grief- carson actually very hypocritical hence nancy's upset at karen revelation yet carson doesn't agree bc hes the "adult" and shes the "child" not realizing she hadnt been one for a long time (hidden staircase perhaps?) whereas ryan better treats her with lack of controlling parental nature bc he is impressed with her competence before he receives that knowledge; "lucy was smarter than me too" acknowledging her intellect negates his ability to "parent" ie control her to leave him solely with caring about her wellbeing in her situations + aftermath - i honestly dont think carson would ever admit that shes smarter than him* bc he thinks shes not "all grown up" yet ("youve kept me on the bench for years"); ryan is more willing to meet her where she's at which is so important for all her good relationships - ace, owen, etc

*carson asks for nancy to figure out "who to trust" in ep 12, finally admitting that she is useful/ie acknowledging that her skills/abilities do help, are necessary, and can in fact save lives --> this is then s2 follow up by working for him (but it takes him that long)

•ryan/nancy/carson venn diagram - using sex to escape trauma

•if not carson vs ryan then what about celia and everett vs patrice (and josh)? at this point in the narrative, do you think ryan's parents would take his side should the knowledge become public (without their involvement), or deny nancy?

•"we were a family" + the disruption of family dinner- kate was really the one holding that family together and her death makes it unsustainable

okay!! that's all folks! i have exhausted my plethora of nancy drew thoughts + knowledge. you will never have to hear from me again!! TYSSM 😘

[outlyingthoughts]

My used-to-be treasured garden: July 19.

Sometimes I wonder if people know how iconic they appear to me. Attitudes and shrugs, I admire in people the things I know I’ll never be. There is around me a sort of rough refinement that I’ll never reach and hundreds of admirative letters I have write to the humans I’m inspired by.

I’m the opposite and come as a contradiction to my environment. The people I write about all live on this thin equilibrium in a seemingly perfect messiness that only “cool kids” in movies have, yet they are crude and hold stronger personalities, like knives ready to cut your throat they have diverse and personal well calibrated comebacks. Each and every single one of them has a sharp sense of their onion-like layers, who they are and what they stand for. Some root for justice, some success, others for nothing but it’s a lovable nihilism they convey: charming and fearless carelessness, probably just a facade that my naive perception is reluctant to acknowledge.

And yet shy and intimidated thus loud and uncomfortable, I struggle to escape the natural mess that I am, becoming over the course of my teenager years a rigid and plain thing you won’t dwell over.

I used to be convinced that there were hidden gems in this garden I used to treasure. Now seemingly unkept, only a tiny part, like a suburban backyard is the survivor of my self-realization. The more time flies by, the more the myriads of luscious greenery I used to think I sheltered in my skull disappear like the Amazonian forest: cut short as the world goes on and I can’t regenerate and adapt my growth and vision to its rate. I have a diary where I lay and leave all my thoughts, it’s a mirror of my brain and the ruins of my treasured garden where dozens of flowers, my friends, bloom and perfume my perception of the world with their various essences, keeping alive the small amount of wonders left in me.

In this thoughtful heaven, there are clouds I can’t repress. Dark cumulonimbus chasing my sunny trust in everything that I take for granted, there is you, you-s and other them, the variables that mingle between us, wavering my expectations and confidence: they determine how I see you, see us. Over here, there are also overcast nightmares and wet dreams that make me lose my certitudes: how do I see you when my eyes are closed and my consciousness is in bed? Earlier this week, I dreamt of you; we held on tight like we twice did before, dancing in a bar under red flashing lights, my grip on your hair feeling as natural it is seems ridiculous now awake.

They say dreaming of making out in public can be a symbolism of wanting to be forthright and open to our feelings with someone but we haven’t talked in months and you hardly ever cross the conscious part of my mind. Yet now that my subconscience made you emerge, you linger in my thoughts and while I know I don’t want you anymore I still wonder what my sleepy fantasy meant.

Whether or not I’ve been burying you in a lost mental cemetery with my repressed feelings or if you’re like the other you-s irrelevant but still well polished in an alcove of the hall of You-s: that is the main question. Ashamed of how I let you swerve with my expectations, there is a limited amount of uncertainty and bullshit my self-esteem can take. By making me, despite yourself, believe just the time of a hibernal interlude in a concept I’ve never put my faith in, you swept me off my feet for a few weeks.

The big word with a capital L, you let me think I’d eventually fall in it truly, deeply, madly but mainly coordinately for the first time. You made me trust that I had time and that it’d come naturally, not with you nor for you, but that one day I’d eventually know what loving means.

In the valleys of my cortex, there are other you-s, I see you in social media statistics and you get me to dwell over instagram algorithms, wondering why you’re ranking upwards and whose fault it is. Deep in my mental cacophonies, there are also back-skin rolls and anxious memory snapshots from my latest pause in front of a mirror, witnesses of how summertime sadness makes swell out of myself into an even more self conscious monster. Hidden under the bed of my gray matter, what-ifs and how-comes, skeptical questionings of how on earth can the people that aren’t blood related to me endure my presence, attach affection and slap compliments (on)to my being; in my matchless condition, there is the designed ugly fat friend character but otherwise nothing cinematic relates to how unworthy the little cells trapped in my bony box feel.

Prone to harsh comparison in the silence of my lonely moments, there are truths I’ll never allow to slip of out the edge of my mouth, violent waves of self incrimination and thousands of accusations I throw at you all while I fight for salty beans to not glide down. What is there to appreciate in my physical envelop or vaporous persona and worst, why would you all lie?

Sometimes I dive deep into the lake of my doubts and ended up lost in a Truman Show maze. My almost-ironic existence on the line, is it all real or do you fake care? How will I know for sure that you feel and fear as I do, share and care the way I won’t allow myself to as long as my confused suspicions persist ? The lack of answer is an authoritarian source of irresolvable yet fully aware inhibitions. In those incoherent and fearful hours of the night, I take a strong hold onto my keyboard and cry my insecurities into a pointless blog with yet another set of soon-to-be-given-up dreams. There are snores and the mechanical silence of the AC chilling me to my bone, an almost empty cup of green tea and 636 people I can overload with untimely and uninteresting social media updates. I overpost with my subconscience, knowing damn well that I’ll delete half of it few hours later: it’s a simple scream in my era’s ever-connected void, not meant to echo, I might just want you to hear me out (felt depressed might delete l8er).

The only thing I used to think was great about me were my taste and ideas. Yet the hundreds storylines of half pregnant projects of movie direction and essays in my notes, pseudo philias more like stillborn loves for photography, cinematography, too popular and wanna be alternative forms of visual arts suggest that all that I thought made me special are mere reflections of the determinism of my upbringing, social background and environment. Shallow assumptions I made about artistic enlightenment and things I’ll probably never master nor understand are wild fires in my garden, they burn the virtual confidence away leaving me a desolated valley of ashes and like Ms Wilson, I’m scared of dying while seeking for an iconic gateway.

I used to think that I wrote well because I had always been told so, but lately I’ve been trying to write fictions and somehow it seems impossible for my self-centered being to write anything without identifying some of my traits in the characters I’ve created. Flawed and irregular, my writing relates more to a ‘teenage in crisis” diary material rather than the “aspirational twenty-something woman’s” essays I devour. But writing this, I see how even my standards and aims are distorted: I dream in big white and glossy capital letters over a blue background of growth and becoming. With Michelle Obama as my personal role model and a bunch of other fifty something black women sipping their successes away in a corner of my mental garden, I shouldn’t be surprised to feel unworthy when I try to gauge where my life is at.

To think that it took me nineteen years to realize how much of an obnoxious fraud I can be, yet still hoping to be more without truly acknowledging that I set the bar higher than I could ever reach. There are few things I wish to say and tiny words I need to hear get me through the coming storm of sickening sadness and ramping panic. Violent power seizures in my brain by toxic parts of myself, I’d rather have them shut out like you from my dreams. There is nothing I can do but to post and scroll some more throughout my supposed-to-be stress-free summer, or maybe to overthink and dramatize over my insecurities. I’ll just lay in the grass of my homie mental garden, praying for the forty remaining days of summer to pass by as fast as they can because a nerve wracking hurricane is heading to my used-to-be paradise and I’m not sure my soul can resist such bad weather again.