#he'd seriously grieve the Little Prince

[stormy-nights-are-best]

Very screwed. Donnie would hate the Sky world. He'd get trauma from the dark dragons and from not being able to save anyone ever

and here's him meeting his first Moth.... He'd be surrounded by children 24/7 because he looks so cool

The last character you drew/wrote about is now stuck in the last game you played. How screwed are they?

[anghraine]

Back to clearing out drafts of things I'm not going to finish: this scrap is from the third of August, 2013:

-

"I think it would be for the best, my lord," Faramir said, clearly picking his words with care, "if I remain in Rohan when the rest of our people return home."

Aragorn considered him. Nothing about the other man's demeanour spoke of the besotted lover; indeed he looked very much as Aragorn imagined he had when he spoke of Gandalf to Ecthelion. His air was entirely that of a councillor about to offer disagreeable advice. 

Suppressing a sigh, Aragorn said, "I am not sure I understand you."

It was not the first time. Faramir was often clear and precise, but not always, and seemed to expect Aragorn in particular to wring meaning out of even cryptic statements.

Apart from this quirk, Aragorn understood him quite well. In fact, he'd formed a reasonable estimation of Faramir's character before he set foot in Minas Tirith, thanks to Imrahil.

As they'd made their way through the stinking battlefield, the city rising pristine before them, Aragorn had asked the Prince if he knew where the most seriously wounded might be found.

"They will be in the Houses of Healing," said Imrahil slowly. "My sister-son—"

Aragorn remembered Boromir speaking of a younger brother, his affection and concern unmistakable. And that was the brother to whom the summons to Rivendell had been sent first. He would now be Denethor's heir, playing an even greater part in Gondor's affairs than in Boromir's descriptions. There must be a reason for all this—it did not seem likely that he was another Boromir. Perhaps he favoured Denethor more than his brother had, or perhaps Finduilas and Imrahil. Aragorn could only hope for the latter. 

Belatedly, he realized that Imrahil had not simply paused mid-sentence but stopped altogether, his smooth voice breaking.

"The Lord Faramir, I believe?" Aragorn immediately saw the pain in Imrahil's stiff nod. "He is in the Houses? Has he been injured?"

"Faramir led the defence of Osgiliath and the Rammas Echor against the Witch-king of Angmar," said Imrahil.

Angmar. "What happened?"

The Prince hesitated. "He has great strength of mind, and chanced to inherit abilities from both Denethor's house and mine. Boromir was the mightier warrior, and the most admired man in Gondor, but Faramir had—has—a way with everyone he met." He shook his head, a ghost of a smile at his mouth. "To see him is to love him, and not only for his kin. Men and beasts alike will follow him anywhere." The lines of Imrahil's expression, briefly softened, drew tight and anxious once more. "Forgive me. I digress."

"With reason, I think," said Aragorn, hardly one to condemn a grieving uncle, even if he had not been the Prince of Dol Amroth, and even if he had praised his sister-son without purpose. 

Imrahil nodded, exhaling on a sigh. "His men followed him that day into the Shadow. For a time, he was able to hold his soldiers and their mounts steady, and he judged it necessary to remain with them to the end. But he was weary before he ever rode out, and it had been over a day, with little rest, when we last spoke."

"It would have been a great enough task for a man well-rested," said Aragorn, frowning. A dim picture was beginning to coalesce in his mind, but something was wrong with it. Many things were wrong with it. As they headed towards the city, he said, "It would have been great enough for an Elf-lord, against such an enemy. Why did he not rest beforehand?"

He was familiar with that kind of exertion, though that particular form was not one he favoured. He looked ahead at Minas Tirith, thinking of how many must be ill or dying. Soon he would be called upon to cast as wide a net as he could, pitting his will against the Black Breath. But it was a battle he could and would win.

"Faramir had slept a little," said Imrahil. "But five Nazgûl had pursued him and three or four others from Osgiliath; I did not see it myself, but I was told that he rode back when his companions were unhorsed, and one of the foul beasts actually stooped down on him. It was Mithrandir who saved him then."

Aragorn almost halted, more startled at this than anything else.

"This sister-son of yours confronted five Nazgûl?"

He could easily imagine Boromir doing it. Even the Denethor of Thorongil's day—but still. One was quite bad enough.

Imrahil looked at him. "Would you have done any different, lord?"

"No," said Aragorn. "Yet he was lucky to survive that alone, never mind the battle itself."

"He always has been. His men believe his life is charmed, by the Valar or—" He shrugged. "If so, his good fortune ran out in the end. He fell in the retreat across the Pelennor, when he was pierced by a Southron arrow. I carried him myself to the Houses of Healing. There he has lain in a fever ever since. I cannot think it only the wound."

"If he was contending with Ringwraiths the day before," Aragorn said, "then a stray arrow would be the least of his troubles. Yet it would leave him far more vulnerable to the Black Breath of the Nazgûl, all the more with his will spent." He looked sharply at Imrahil. "That would be enough. But there is more, I think?"

Imrahil sighed. But then he told him the whole story, as far as he knew it: told him of the always troubled relationship between Denethor and his gentle, willful younger son, turned colder with Boromir's absence and death, of Faramir's return from Osgiliath and Denethor's displeasure that Faramir had permitted strangers to pass freely through Ithilien.

Aragorn almost caught his breath. "Strangers? Of what kind?"

"Halflings, I hear," said Imrahil. "They had some foul weapon of Isildur's—forgive me—which Faramir sent away with them. Denethor agreed it should not be used, but he was furious that Faramir had allowed it to pass into the Dark Land. They quarrelled over that, and then again over the defense of the Rammas Echor. Faramir did not go of his own will but at the command of the Steward.

"I see," said Aragorn. So this man had faced the Ring as well.

[badger-bear]

Hi happy 28th! I thought it could be fun to appreciate some underappreciated fics! If you want, answer with one of your fics and one of someone else's you wish more people would read, and then send this anonymously to some writers whose answers you'd like to see. 🥰

Hello! Happy 28th! I love this idea!!! I am going to share the wips I am currently reading!

A Gift In Grieving

Harrys a bunny hybrid, just hoping to find an owner who cares about him. He doesnt know what to expect when hes bought at auction at nearly twice the asking price. Before he knows it, hes wrapped up like a present, and given to a stranger; a sad man named Louis. Despite how Harry tries, he cant seem to get his new owner to warm up to him. Little does Harry know that he was a gift to Louis to soften the blow of losing his last hybrid. And Louis is in no state to open his heart to Harry any time soon.

~

Just a smaller lower stakes fluffy story about Bunny Harry trying to help Louis get over loss.

Oh, To Be Vulnerable

Disgruntled nurse Harry is, what some would call, a bit of a loner. Aside from work, he spends most of his time alone, either taking trips to the Boston library or going for walks around Quincy Market, or wallowing in his own sadness. He doesn’t seem to mind too much though. He takes his job seriously, and he likes it enough that he shows up every day, so what could be worth threatening his peace that he has worked so hard to create?

Louis, an overly-chipper and easily excitable orthodontics resident, can’t help but instantly fall for the boy in the photo that Niall shows him. With his education soon coming to a close, he is ready to get back into the dating game, and what a wonderful sight to begin with.

The relationship between Harry and Louis has all the highs and lows of a standard relationship, but will Harry learn to trust Louis enough to let him in? And will Louis be able to manage his life turning every which way while also figuring out all that is Harry?

The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Omega Harry has always known he'd be married off someday, so when he's betrothed to the prince, he's anxious about having to leave his life behind, but hopeful for a happy marriage.

The hope doesn't last long, with his husband avoiding him at all costs and Harry being left to fend for himself.

Can he find happiness even in a broken marriage?

Forelsket

forelsket

(n.) the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.....

Harry is a kind, sweet and scared omega who was hurt along with his daughter, Harlow. Louis is a self-made billionaire and hitman. Their paths cross.

OR

Home, Harry thought was a place you live in, but one day he understood that home is not a place, but a person.