#lego elves fanfiction

[of-elves-and-mad-hatters]

"The Azure Sky" - Chapter 11

Masterlist 

Request Guidelines

Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace. 

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand.

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm. 

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 

_________________________________

Chapter 11

Eimileen must have loved this place. 

The small, open-air market of Urisil is like something out of a painting, surreal in the way light shines down through the silk canopies, crystals and lanterns illuminating the stalls, the structures surrounded by trees.

Emily’s gaze is darting around, trying to absorb it all, a grin helplessly plastered on her face. She doesn’t even hear Naida’s voice at first; the water elf has to tap her on the shoulder. “Emily, are you sure this will be enough? Do you need anything else?”

She looks down at the small pile of clothes Naida’s about to pay for, absorbing the question. Enough? She’s relying on the water elf’s expertise for what the mountain weather will be like, only Emily isn’t an elf, and humans seem to be frail in comparison. 

“Another coat? Just to be on the safe side?” 

Naida nods, and the shopkeeper suggests a fur-lined one in a dark, muted blue. 

Emily reaches a hand absentmindedly to her amulet. It feels cold again, prickly with static. Unpleasant. 

An intense spark jolts her finger. She recoils. 

A rush of half-faded images, a memory, impress upon her mind. Her eight-year-old self trembling under a quilt on her grandmother’s couch, crying because there was a wailing thunderstorm that night and she hated the way the world looked when it was lit up by lightning. 

They illuminated the dark faces in the trees, the ones too melded with the night to see any other time. And she begged her grandmother to make them go away. 

Her grandmother smiled pityingly, and whispered that she was too old to be hunting spirits anymore, but not to worry, that the dark things were farther away than they appeared, and that there were barriers that kept them locked away. Because that’s how the light deals with darkness, by casting it far away. 

Of course there were the few who dealt with things by swallowing the shadows, but her grandmother told her never to pay them much mind. That you should just tell them white lies because they tended to be grumpy and might not otherwise help anyone with the darkness. 

Little Emily objected. Her parents said that lying was always wrong. 

Her grandmother only smiled gently, tucked a strand of hair behind the child’s ear. Whispered, “Sometimes the only way to love is to lie”. 

And lie, Eimileen most certainly did, only Emily isn’t sure she can see the love in that particular choice. How was concealing her own heritage, the world she’d grown up in and loved, necessary to love her human family? 

“Something on your mind?”

Emily’s eyes flicker over to Naida. “Nothing…everything. I don’t know,” and she shrugs her shoulders. 

“I did not mean to upset you.”

The human shakes her head. “You didn’t. Sometimes, I just feel overwhelmed, still.” She hesitates. “…and I guess it doesn’t help that this amulet continues to surprise me.” 

Naida frowns. “How so?”

“Just little things. Like feeling as though it were charged with static electricity. Like sparking an old memory of my grandmother that I had forgotten…” Emily shakes her head. “I don’t know. It drew me to this realm. It wanted me to come here. But somehow I have this feeling it doesn’t like me very much. Does that sound stupid? I mean, it’s an amulet, not a person.”

Naida reaches out, just grazing the stone with her fingertips. “It is an artifact of great power. I’d be surprised if it did not behave strangely.” She tilts her head, thoughtful. “It was given to you by Eimileen. It should be loyal to you, but perhaps it is not fully confident in its new owner. Sometimes trust must be earned.” She takes a deep breath then, as if washing away her contemplations. “Come. We need to be on our way if we are to still stop by the bakery and return to the others by nightfall.”

________________________________________

After regrouping that night, and a restful sleep, the five travelers began their trek up the mountain paths. They hike in single file; Aira leading with the map, Farran just over her shoulder, Emily securely in the middle of the entourage, and Naida and Azari bringing up the rear. 

The human pulls her cloak tighter over her shoulders, shivers. The spots of green grass along the path are tinged with frost; she can see her breath in the crisp air. The higher they climb, the sky shifts from lavender to a crystal clear blue, unmarred by cloud and occasionally broken by birds flying in the distance. 

Emily feels Naida’s eyes on her, and hears the water elf shout, “It’s time for a rest!”. 

Aira jerks her head back, confused until her gaze falls on the human girl. “The path widens just around the next bend. Plenty of space to set up camp.” Emily can barely hide her sigh of relief. 

The narrows path does end up widening suddenly into a clearing that had been intentionally carved into the side of the mountain. Out on the edge of outcropping, to their left, stands a dilapidated windmill. The sky is quickly dimming to dusk, and Azari builds a fire close to the face of the mountain. Emily drops to her knees, stretching out her hands to warm them. She nods in Aira’s direction,“So, how much farther to the next key?” 

Azari shrugs. 

Aira, overhearing, trills, “Just a few more miles!”

“And what are we looking for, exactly?” inquires Farran. 

The wind elf finally seats herself around the fire, spreading the map on the ground, and reads, 

“Under the wings of those who rule the skies

Buried in the dark with all they find precious

An ancient hold for a beast long dead

Forgotten by those who knew not the days of malice”

Farran’s eyes widen. “A dragon cave.”

Dragon? “Wait, do you mean like an actual fire-breathing dragon, or is that a metaphor for something?” Emily questions. 

“Well, not all dragons breathe fire, but yes,” Naida confirms, “The riddle clearly points to the actual lair of one of those creatures. One long deceased.”

Azari scrunches her face, “But what on earth does the line ‘Forgotten by those who knew not the days of malice’ mean?”

Aira frowns. “Maybe it’s referring to a melkorian dragon.”

Naida mirrors her frown. “Let’s hope not. Their treasure hoards are rumored to be cursed, inciting delirium in those who linger too long.”

Emily winces at the thought. “So, what’s the difference between a melkorian dragon and other dragons?”

“Dragons are native to these lands, present at the time of creation, and friends of the northernmost elves. Melkor, an evil and powerful spirit to the south, captured a dragon and transformed it. Twisted its mind and body into a weapon of war. Its descendants we call melkorian dragons. They range from apathetic to completely wicked. Devouring sentient peoples like cattle, and hoarding gold with a compulsive greed far outweighing the natural dragons’ appreciation for beautiful gems.

It’s easy to tell the two races apart. Melkorian dragons grow to be far larger, and more powerful. Unlike other dragons, who are colorful and shimmer in the light, the scales of melkorian dragons are dull and muted in hue. They dwell along our southern borders, a frequent threat to the cities there. Though some have claimed that in rare cases, elves have been able to befriend these drakes, and redeem their natures. 

The last time melkorian dragons came this far north was before elves had established permanent towns up here, just scattered settlements. A treasure hoard of their kind would be very ancient indeed, at least by our reckoning,” the water elf explains. 

Emily absorbs this, picking a croissant out of the bakery bag being passed around the campfire. She pulls the bread apart, only realizing how hungry she is once she takes a bite. “If the cave was made by a dragon, which can fly, how do we know if it’s even accessible on foot?”

“We don’t,” Aira chirps. “But don’t worry, I’ve invented dozens of different ways to get around the problem of flight!” 

Azari makes a nauseated expression. “Flight is a problem, all right. And something to be avoided, not solved.” 

“Nonsense! Once you get over your fear of plummeting to your death…”

“Aira, stop,” Naida cuts her off. “We’re about to go to sleep, and you’re going to give Azari nightmares over a hypothetical situation.” 

“Fine. But a few pegasi-sky-diving sessions would really do her a world of good.”

_________________________________

Emily opens her eyes. She blinks, slowly, the world around her seeming blurred. The air around her is heavy with fog; she can barely distinguish the forms of her sleeping friends around the remnants of their campfire. 

The mist is dark, but as she peers into the night, she sees even deeper, darker shapes in the distance. They’re indistinct, fluid, with glowing blue eyes. Shadows. 

Emily sits up, wary, pulling her legs to her chest. The shadows are whistling, a high-pitched almost-white noise that makes her ears ache. There are whispers, too, in her head. Overlapping, wispy phrases, aggressive, rambling on and on about mortals and the passageway. 

Electric blue lightning crackles through the fog. Emily’s amulet begins to glow, shining like the shadows’ eyes. It levitates, lifting itself from the girl’s chest until the chain bites into the back of her neck. 

It’s leading her.

Shaking with apprehension, Emily allows herself to be pulled to her feet. She stumbles forward, the heavy fog obscuring anything more than a couple yards ahead. She’s lead further up the narrow mountain trail, winding endlessly towards a sky she can’t see. 

At some point, she’s turned sharply to the left. The girl continues walking forward, but realizes the ground feels different, absent. She looks down to see a gaping chasm beneath her. 

Emily considers, for the first time, that this might be a dream.

As though air were as solid as stone, the girl is lead on. She trips when her feet meet rock again, scraping her shins on a jagged outcropping. There’s a rough-hewn path with deep gauges that perhaps could have been carved from talons, if it was ever possible for a creature to have claws as wide as a school bus. 

The rock is damp from the mist, and Emily ends up sliding down the tumultuous path. Now with a scratched-up arms to match her bloody legs, she barely has time to catch her breath before the amulet drags her forward again, and enters the mouth of a monstrous cave. 

The blue glow of the amulet is her only source of light, and even that is quickly swallowed up by the darkness. Every step she takes sends small, clinking objects scattering. Gold, gems, she can’t tell what kind of treasure she’s stumbling through, but the deeper she’s lead, the more her legs sink into the hoard. 

Emily’s standing knee-deep when the amulet stops. Glow softening, it drops back against her chest with a soft thud, the surface crackling with static electricity. As its light dims, another light, deeper in the cave, moves towards her. It grows rapidly in size as it approaches, a dark, shadowy shape forming in its center, evolving into a humanoid shape. 

Emily’s heart drops. It’s them, the presence she felt in the forest. She’s sure of it, even though a part of her mind reminds her that this could just be a dream, a nightmare. 

“Who are you?” she asks, trying to still the tremor in her voice. 

“Who?” the shadowy figure repeats, tilting its head. The voice is warped, but it sounds vaguely female. “Who I am never really mattered to your grandmother. She held her own assumptions as gospel. So why do you inquire? Or did she not warn her own descendant of the dangers of this realm?”

“She must have had her reasons,” Emily spits back, defensive. “And it’s too late for me to ask her now. But I can ask you why you’ve been stalking me, and how you’re somehow connected to her amulet.”

“It was a gift, and a foolish mistake.”

Emily lifts her hand, letting it hover over the jewel, feeling the sharp pricks of electricity jumping to her skin. “Is that why it hurts me? Because you regret giving my grandmother the amulet?”

“Because I made it, and Eimileen used it for something I never condoned. As long as its purpose is being abused, it will always try to find its way back to me.” The shadow’s voice grows in volume, the cave beginning to shake. “It may be yours, little half-blood, but don’t mistake ownership for loyalty. For your own sake, give the amulet to the guardian of the castle. She has sworn to safeguard it till I return to these lands.”

The shadowy figure vanishes into a wreath of blue and green light, as the ground opens up underneath Emily, crumbling away. She falls, jewels and coins pouring in after her. And far beneath, in the darkness, are hundreds of glowing blue eyes, waiting. 

_______________

A/N: I can't believe it's been two years since I've updated this story, and a full year since I shared a segment of this chapter as a WIP. I'm so sorry to have made everyone wait so long! Hopefully, now that I'm over the hurdle that was this clunky chapter, I can finish the Azure Sky this year? Crossing my fingers.

[takem46]

If you want more context for any of these, please feel free to ask. These stories have been in my brain for years and I need to tell people about them.

[myfairkatiecat]

Oh my gosh me and my cringy middle school friends made a whole fanfiction movie at eleven (we wrote a script, got costumes, and filmed everything… I still have the DVD………..we were hyperfixate theater kids) and it featured elves from KOTLC, LOTR, and Lego elves.

One of my fellow cringy middle schoolers made a pathfinder that looked like this for the movie, and I said “don’t be ridiculous they do NOT look like that.” But we were 11 and it was a devastatingly low budget film so we went with the cringy awful pathfinder and I protested the whole time.

ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT JULIA WAS RIGHT??? THEY ARE MINI SPOONS WITH CRYSTALS?

Help why do the pathfinders look like that 😭

[apolonya]

Drunk post again ❤

[the-red-butterfly]

Wounds Not Yet Healed

Elrond (Elwing) & Thranduil (Tolkien Universe)

“Thranduil, wake up. Wake up. THRANDUIL!”

Thranduil looked up and saw Elwing or was it Elrond? He could not tell as the two faces overlapped and separated. “All these. They are in your head. It is in the past. Come back.”

Thranduil shook his head as Elwing, then again Elrond, held onto his hand. Soft light played about her face making her glow as if reflecting a moonlight in the summer evening. Her warm gray eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Do not cling to the past, Thranduil. Let them go. You were but a child. You cannot blame yourself for what happened. Only those who killed are to blame.”

“But I killed them. I did this. Your mother, your brothers. Aron’s mother, and the ladies…my…my brother. I brought those killers there.” Overwhelming grief crashed onto his chest smothering the breath. His heart drummed inside him. Tears he thought were frozen fell like streams down his face. “How could they forgive me?” He looked up not expecting an answer. He felt drained as if he was washed away onto a desolate beach from a wrecked ship. Every part of his body hurt, heavy and weak.

“The fault lay not with you. Those warriors lied to you, a child who knew nothing. Anyone would have known that. Glineth, Captain Aron, none of them blames you. Only you do. Let it go, Thranduil. Be free of this guilt that you carry with you.”

Chapter 100

What It Means To Be A King (FF AO3) - By Arinariel (FF AO3)

I swear this genuinely started like a sketch and it was going to stay that way, but my hands got away from me (,: I cannot help myself fffffff.

Like, the lines are al sketch I didn’t work them really, but it still looks very nice so I’m happy (:

.

More “What It Means To Be A King” Fanart:

Old Loves · The Burning In My Throat · You Stupid Elf · Truth By Fire Is Ten Times Brighter · Sketch Dump · Gold Rings And Green Woods (Cover) · Wounds Not Yet Healed · Rescue By The Mighty

.

OPEN FOR COMMISSIONS

[fivewrites]

“Let teenage girls get excited about things without shame.”

but also

“Teach teenage girls to think critically about the media they consume, lest they internalize and replicate harmful messages.”

[labrats-and-clonetroopers]

Happy December 1st! Christmas season is finally here, and I wanted to remind everyone that requests, for both blogs, are always open! I will be posting some seasonally themed content this month, but will welcome non-holiday related requests as well.

Here are a few writing prompt lists: Writing Prompts List 1, Writing Prompts List 2 , Christmas Writing Prompts

And request guidelines for both fandom groups:

labrats-and-clonetroopers : Request Guidelines

of-elves-and-mad-hatters : Request Guidelines

Anyways, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

[strifer1der]

Reading smut

Reading fluff

[viktuurificwriters]

Yuri on Ice LEGO Elves Secrets of Elvendale AU

That’s a really cool AU. We’re not very familiar with the LEGO Elves Secrets of Elvendale show/series, but it sounds like a really cool fantasy AU. Before I researched to figure out what the AU was about, I got a Lord of the Rings-vibe from the title, alone, so I see potential in this becoming an epic saga

[hiddendreamer67]

10. show some of your really old work!

BAM!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9248590/1/It-s-our-story-now

That my friends is a link to my first ever big fanfiction. It made past Amanda really happy and I had a lot of good memories writing it. I don’t want to read it. Please don’t make me read it. It’s fun to read but for me it’s not just because I get that pressure of oooooooh goodness I need to finish that. 0.0 It’s an unfinished story about me and my friends going into Lord of the Rings. Oh yeah there was a bunch of shipping as well and it was freaking adorable and a good time. Oh my goodness I forgot I just threw a dog in at one point. Also just remembered all those long messages left at the end of Fanfiction.Net chapters RIP. Let’s see, here’s a snippet for you to behold:

After dinner, Amanda called a secret council of the girls. They all clustered around off to the left of the camp, out of earshot.

"Okay, I need to tell you all something, whether or not you've read or watched LOTR." Amanda said.

"L-O-T-R?" Alyssa asked.

"Lord Of The Rings." Abbi clarified, stressing the first letters.

"Oh." Alyssa said in realization.

"So for those of you who don't know, Boromir dies." Amanda said sadly. Some of the girls gasped.

"He does?" Alyssa said, gazing sadly at him along with the others.

"Yes." Amanda said.

"He had it coming." Rachael said in a calm tone.

"Rachael!" Emma scolded her.

"Well, just today he snapped at us about the sharing circle." Rachael justified.

"Yeah, but that's because his mind is being possessed by the ring." Amanda defended him, feeling a little sorry for the man. "Anyways, I just wanted you guys to be prepared. But, if for some reason he survives, if any of us are with him I want you to take the horn of gondor, break it in half if it's not already broken, and throw it into the river."

"Why?" Shealyn asked.

"'Cause I said so." Amanda said.

"Well that's undyingly helpful."Emma said sarcastically.

"Are you at least going to tell us how he dies?" Alyssa asked.

"By being shot with a banana." Abbi said.

"WHAT?" Olivia exclaimed.

"That's how he dies in LOTR lego video game." Abbi clarified.

"No, I'm not going to tell you." Amanda answered, ignoring her sister.

"So, let me get this straight- you called us over here so that you could tell us that a guy dies, but you won't tell us how." Emma said. "Then you tell us that if by some miracle he does survive, we're supposed to smash his horn and throw it in the river, but you won't tell us why."

"Pretty much." Amanda agreed.

"That's useless." Shealyn commented.

"Should have read the books." Rachael said, happy she had read them and already knew what happened to Boromir, although not understanding Amanda's plan.

"So what's going to happen after Boromir, you know, dies?" Abbi asked.

"Well, the fellowship gets split apart." Amanda answered. "Frodo and Sam go off into Mordor to destroy the ring. Merry and Pippin get kidnapped by orcs, and Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli go to rescue them before going off to help Rohan and later Gondor win the war- I think, I haven't actually finished the series yet."

"Ro-what and who's gone?" Shealyn asked.

"No, Rohan and Gondor." Amanda said. "They're two countries who are very close and have alliances. You can kind of think of them as having an alliance like Canada and the U.S."

"So Rohan is Canada in olden times?" Alyssa asked.

"Oh, so Rohan is one of those get along with everyone, drink buckets of syrup and watch hockey kind of countries." Shealyn said, joking.

"Canada's not like that!" Rachael said, having been there herself a few times. "Why would you think it is?"

"The Internet." Shealyn said.

"Oh, because the Internet is right so often." Rachael said sarcastically.

"No, Rohan is not Canada, Alyssa." Amanda said, ignoring her bickering friends. "I said the relationship between Rohan and Gondor is like the relationship between Canada and the U.S."

"So Rohan is LIKE Canada." Alyssa clarified.

"ROHAN IS NOT LIKE CANADA!" Amanda said. "Rohan is a country of men that is mostly known for its horses."

"Wait- men?" Abbi asked. "What happened to all the girls?"

"No, she means like a country of humans instead of, say, elves." Emma clarified.

"Rohan sounds more like Kentucky to me." Olivia said.

"Rohan's a state?" Alyssa asked.

"I thought it was Canada." Shealyn commented.

"Rohan is not a state, and it is still not Canada." Amanda sighed.

"But you said…"

"I know what I said!" Amanda said angrily. "Just drop it, okay?"

"Drop what?" Shealyn asked.

"The matter." Emma said.

"What's the matter?" Pippin said, coming over.

"Apparently Canada." Abbi informed him.

"What?" Pippin asked. "What's Canada?"

"A state called Rohan." Alyssa informed him.

"Huh?" Pippin asked, now more confused.

"Just…. Forget it." Amanda said slowly, face-palming.

"Anyways, why are you over here?" Olivia asked.

"I was sent to come check on you guys." Pippin answered. "It is getting dark, you know."

"What are you, our parents?" Emma asked. She was ignored.

"Who sent you?" Abbi asked.

"Legolas." Pippin answered. The girls all turned to face Rachael.

"Oh, Legolas." Amanda said all-knowingly.

"Oh shut up." Rachael glared at them. The others laughed.

"You can tell elf loverboy his sweetheart is alright." Olivia said, earning a hiss from Rachael.

"What?" Pippin asked.

"Tell them we're fine." Alyssa translated.

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

Emily Jones from Lego Elves for the top 5 ships?

This one’s a toughie; I haven’t thought about Lego Elves in a while except to beta read for a certain friend. And there’s a distinct lack of Fanfiction (both in terms of same sex and different sex relationships).

So, let me think…

Send me a character and I’ll (try) to tell you my top five ships for them

I guess I sort of support EmilyxAzari. I don’t really ship them, but it’s popular, so something about it must make people enjoy it.

My personal Emily Ship is actually a crossover ship. Brace yourselves; it’s Emily x Keith from Voltron (why are you booing me? This ain’t an Alex Jones rally!). Basically, I was thinking about an ElvendalexVoltron crossover (I still wanna do it) and I thought about how the characters would meet and interact. In the end, I found Emily and Sophie’s interaction with Keith to be the funniest and the most natural, with a sort of Inuyasha/Kagome vibe to it. And the rest is ancient history.

So, I can’t really answer with top 5 ships but I gave you two. Is that okay? Sorry. :-[

[of-elves-and-mad-hatters]

WIP

A little segment from Ch. 11 of The Azure Sky that I'm working on.

----------

Emily reaches a hand absentmindedly to her amulet. It feels cold again, prickly with static. Unpleasant. 

An instense spark jolts her finger. She recoils. 

A rush of half-faded images, a memory, impress upon her mind. Her eight-year-old self trembling under a quilt on her grandmother’s couch, crying because there was a wailing thunderstorm that night and she hated the way the world looked when it was lit up by lightning. 

They illuminated the dark faces in the trees, the ones too melded with the night to see any other time. And she begged her grandmother to make them go away. 

Her grandmother smiled pityingly, and whispered that she was too old to be hunting spirits anymore, but not to worry, that the dark things were farther away than they appeared, and that there were barriers that kept them locked away. Because that’s how the light deals with darkness, by casting it far away. 

Of course there were the few who dealt with things by swallowing the shadows, but her grandmother told her never to pay them much mind. That you should just tell them white lies because they tended to be grumpy and might not otherwise help anyone with the darkness. 

Little Emily objected. Her parents said that lying was always wrong. 

Her grandmother only smiled gently, tucked a strand of hair behind the child’s ear. Whispered, “Sometimes the only way to love is to lie”. 

[themoonslullabye]

This has been so hard for me, as Harry Potter was my life growing up. I was a lonely isolated undiagnosed autistic child. And I latched onto Harry Potter. I was always reading and rereading the books, rewatching the movies and playing every game I could get my hands on. I read fanfiction, bought merch, and to this day relatives default on getting me Harry Potter themed items for holidays.

As I got older I began to notice the bad tropes in the books. I felt gross reading about the house elves and found myself skipping past it, slowly I found that nearly the whole series left a bad taste in my mouth. But I took comfort in fan works. Especially headcanons and theory's that became so popular i haven't found anyone who disagrees with them.

In middle school/high school i began learning about the background to these tropes and deconstructing them and learning how to recognize the dog whistles hidden inside my favourite series. And around this time Twitter began to get big. And the author began to tweet the most rediculous add ons.

If anyone else had the headcanon "wizards and witches didn't use the bathroom, they just did it standing in public then vanished the evidence" they would have been laughed off the internet.

At this time I learned about the concept of "the death of the author" and how that fundamentally changes fandoms. And I joined a movement of people who decided that with this series, we could call the author dead before her mortal departure.

And I thought that was enough.

I was a naive child who thought that if enough people just decided that the author didn't matter and supported fan work and didn't purchase anything official ((very often)) then she would change. She would go quietly into the background and I could guiltlessly enjoy my favorite series.

I was wrong. And that's not enough. At least, it's not any more.

Those occasional residuals, those small once a year purchases, those reruns and publications. Those are causing real harm to real people. She is using that money to actively fight against the very people who grew up reading harry potter and learning how to stand up for ourselves.

Especially in the last few years the Alt-right have begun to slowly repurpose Harry Potter and use it as a sign to each other.

So now I'm putting away my Harry Potter Legos. I'm removing my quidditch bumper stickers, I'm boxing my Harry Potter merch and jackets and scarves. I'm putting away my hand made Hufflepuff items. I'm telling everyone I know to not get me anything Harry Potter related.

I'm not perfect. I'm going to mess up, and reblog a piece of fan art, or headcanon or fanfic. I'm going to wistfully look back at my shelf and rebuild my existing Lego sets privately, and I will hide it away. Because I can't fully quit the only fantasy world that I felt safe with growing up.

I'm going to throw myself back into the series that I used to fill the void in middle school when Harry Potter began to feel wrong. PERCY JACKSON.

Maybe in another 30,40,50 years we will be able to come back. And I'll be whole again, and we will all sit around with our house scarves and headcanons. But until then.

We must put Harry Potter away. And not give her any more money to harm the people who need our help.

Couldn’t someone separate the art from the artist? It’s an unpopular opinion that seems to be healthier than cancel culture. I understand that you might think differently than that opinion & that’s fine I just think agreeing to disagree is safer as well. Not trying to hate I’m sorry if this comes out that way.

I'm assuming this is about the harry potter post. This isn't about Harry Potter being "problematic"-- plenty of the stuff I and other people have listed as alternatives have problematic elements. The difference is that these authors and creators have acknowledged their shortcomings and strive to be better. JKR is actively funding legislation and propaganda meant to do actual harm to people. She is the figurehead of a hate movement for a minority– trans people– and refuses to acknowledge her faults in this area as well as the other areas she has failed in, such as representing race, size, class, religion, etc. She in fact defends her horrible viewpoints and uses them as excuses to, again, be the figurehead of a hate movement that is causing serious harm to people who exist irl.

"Separating the art from the artist" is for when the artist had a headcanon about a character you don't agree with, or when they are dead and will not profit from you reconstructing their work– plenty of people have found inspiration in HP Lovecraft's work, and since the smelly old bitch is dead and rotting, he doesn't get to use the residuals from his stories to go out and hurt people. JKR is alive, unrepentant, and has stated that she sees people supporting Harry Potter as people supporting her transphobic views, and that the money she's getting from HP residuals is going to these transphobic hate groups that are causing, as I cannot state enough times, actual harm to people. People are dying.

So, no, we're ditching Harry Potter. Maybe in fifty years when she's dead we can reboot it to make everyone trans and gay and not racist or what the fuck ever. That time is nowhere near here and not something I anticipate seeing or partaking in anytime soon. Supporting Harry Potter is saying that your feelings on fictional characters, a fictional world, all this stuff that is not real, is more important than the lives and safety of people who are alive and in danger right now.

Get into Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan has had MANY shortcomings with his representation but he fucking tries and actively encourages people to do good in the world. Get into The Owl House, the show is diverse and queer and very much not transphobic and the creator is a badass. Or as I said in my viral post, just get into Sonic the Hedgehog, there are literally like fifteen different canons so if you don't like one you can just grab another, or cherry-pick what you like and what you don't.

For Harry Potter withdrawl I personally recommend the above as well as Wayward Children by Seanan McGuire. It has your magic school stuff with extra dissection of fairytale tropes and representation throughout all the books with a major recurring/main trans character as well as other positively portrayed queer people, poc and fat people who are interesting characters in their own right, not just because they check off a minority checklist.

There are tons of other things you can read whose authors are not perfect but are not actively supporting fucking hate groups.

tl;dr Harry Potter is not getting a single cent from me as long as support of it is actively funding bigotry

[superbartpaintinghuman]

These my two fanfiction on archive of our own. If you leave a kudos or comments ten that would be greatly appreciated.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24448561

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760259

[ao3feed-elvendale]

Lego Elves: Dangers and Dragons

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2VNMFxf

by Pepsi_Writes

It's been two months since the events of the ball, and Emily isn't too keen on returning to Elvendale. But push comes to shove when the Queen of Dragons, Elandra, is taken prisoner by an evil elf. From there, Emily makes new allies and friends, learning all she can about Elvendale and its creatures.

Or at least, all that the elves will let her know.

Book 2 of the Rewrite the Magic project.

Words: 929, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Rewrite the Magic

Fandoms: Lego Elves: Secrets of Elvendale (Cartoon)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Emily Jones (Lego Elves), Azari Firedancer, Farran Leafshade, Naida Riverheart, Aira Windwhistler, Tidus Stormsurfer, Sira Copperbranch, Ragana Shadowflame, Rosalyn Nightshade, Sophie Jones, Cronan Darkroot

Additional Tags: Elves, Lego, Lego Elves - Freeform, Fantasy, Fanfiction, Secrets of Elvendale - Freeform

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2VNMFxf

[of-elves-and-mad-hatters]

“The Azure Sky”- Chapter 8 - Lego Elves

Masterlist 

_________________

Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace. 

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide. 

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand. 

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm. 

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

____________________________________

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4 

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 

____________________________________

Empty-handed, Naida and Emily trudge back to the hollow’s entrance. “Do you think anyone else will have been successful?” the human ponders. 

“Most likely Farran. He has the strongest connection to the trees, and while the ones here don’t have the most friendly of dispositions, they still have a fondness for earth and silvan elves.” 

“Trees have dispositions?”

Naida smiles, “Yes, but on most worlds they perpetually sleep, living their lives in the dream world. In this realm, when the elves were first created, they started to wake them up.”

“Why did they want to wake them up?”

Naida shrugs. “It’s just in the elven nature. Curiosity, and a deep love for the elements of nature, desiring to be nearer to it. Some travelers even say that elves have a greater love of language compared to other species.”

Emily smiles. “My parents always said I got my green thumb from the grandmother. My little sister can’t stand the racks of plants I keep in my bedroom.”

“Maybe that’s why Eimileen chose you to inherit the key,” Naida suggests gently, “because she saw more of elvenkind in you than human.”

“You really think so?”

“I’m not wholy certain, but ever since I’ve met you, you’ve seemed comfortable in our land, almost connected to it in the way we are.”

A blush spreads across Emily’s face, “I don’t know that I’m…” but she is, if she thinks about it, peeling away the layers of the fear and anxiety she’s experienced since coming here, she realizes how much more alive she’s felt in this world, far more than she ever has on earth. Suddenly, the prospect of going home seems almost devastating. 

Naida stills. 

“What is it?”

The water elf doesn’t respond, turning her head to watch the woods behind them. “There’s someone here.”

“You think one of the others came looking for us, since we were late?”

Naida frowns, staring deep into the trees. 

That’s when Emily feels it, a presence, lurking beyond where they can see. Elusive, oppressive like a vivid surreal dream. Her amulet weighs heavier upon her neck, threatening to cut through her skin. The clear blue surface of the stone turns dark, cloudy. 

“Aira? Azari? Farran...” Naida calls softly, though it is clear from her face that she does not expect and answer. 

There is none. Just the deep silence. 

“That’s not them,” Emily stutters out, “It’s something else…” 

Naida grabs her hand, turning them around to walk briskly. “We’re not far from the entrance.”

“We should go faster.”

“We don’t need to panic. Whoever’s back there is probably just another elf minding their own business.”

“They were watching us.”

“That doesn’t mean they would try to hurt us. There are very few people and creatures to fear in Elvendale. It would be unlikely we would come across one of them.”

“But possible.”

Naida sighs quietly. “Just keep ahold of my hand.”

They continue on a few steps, and Emily can feel herself calming down. “Didn’t Azari say this place was haunted?”

“I very much doubt what we felt was a ghost.”

“Do ghosts even exist, like for real, in Elvendale?”

“There are rumors, and one cannot discount the abundant bizarre events that have occurred here…but I doubt it.”

Nuala had always said the images that haunted the hollow weren’t spirits, but rather vengeful memories. Of course no other elf could speculate where the second sister had come across such an eccentric idea, but Nuala held to it all the same. She once told Naida that it wasn’t the memories themselves she should fear, no matter how frightening the apparitions were. It was the people who could make those memories come alive. Those were who she should fear. Naida asked ‘who possessed such power?’ but that her grandmother never answered. 

Spotting Aira and Azari ahead, the water elf is pulled from her thoughts. “Any luck?” she calls. The fire and air elves shake their heads. 

Farran then emerges from his path, grinning from ear to ear. His face is riddled with bloody scratches, and he holds a key that glistens as if it had been carved from an emerald. 

“You found it!” Aira exclaims. 

“Yep, wasn’t an easy task though. It took an incredible amount of discipline and skilled magic to unearth it from a block of solid crystal. Halfway through, with sweat dripping down my brow, lungs burning, I…”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Azari interjects. “What happened to your face?”

Farran shrugs, sheepish. “The block of cyrstal may have been located underneath a squirrel’s acorn stash. Said squirrel was not particularly happy.” 

“Here, let me help.” Aira kneels down and pulls some salve and a cloth from her back. She gently cleans the cuts. 

“I wish I could have seen it,” Emily muses. “Anyways, two keys down, two to go. What does the map say?”

Azari snatches it out of Farran’s hand. 

“Here at the birthplace of the changing world

Fire reforms that which is old and worn

Trials of flame perfect their sacred jewel

Concealed behind a falling curtain of gold.”

The fire elf frowns. “No clue what that means, but it looks like the next key is located somewhere in the Lava Fields.”

“That sounds…dangerous,” Emily comments.

Azari grins devishly. “Trust me, it’s one of the coolest places in all of Elvendale.”