#thinking of my man my king my legend aragorn

[feyarchived]

i’m probably gonna spend some of my weekend watching the extended versions of lotr so who wants to cry over the trilogy with me

[ebaeschnbliah]

What doom do you bring out of the North?

'The doom of choice,' said Aragorn. 'You may say this to Théoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. None may live now as they have lived, and few shall keep what they call their own. But of these great matters we will speak later. If chance allows, I will come myself to the king. Now I am in great need, and I ask for help, or at least for tidings. You heard that we are pursuing an orc-host that carried off our friends. What can you tell us?'

'That you need not pursue them further,' said Éomer. 'The Orcs are destroyed.'

'And our friends?'

'We found none but Orcs.'

'But that is strange indeed,' said Aragorn. 'Did you search the slain? Were there no bodies other than those of orc-kind? They would be small. Only children to your eyes, unshod but clad in grey.'

'There were no dwarves nor children,' said Éomer. 'We counted all the slain and despoiled them, and then we piled the carcases and burned them, as is our custom. The ashes are smoking still.'

'We do not speak of dwarves or children,' said Gimli. 'Our friends were hobbits.'

'Hobbits?' said Éomer. 'And what may they be? It is a strange name.'

'A strange name for a strange folk,' said Gimli. 'But these were very dear to us. It seems that you have heard in Rohan of the words that troubled Minas Tirith. They spoke of the Halfling. These hobbits are Halflings.'

'Halflings!' laughed the Rider that stood beside Éomer. 'Halflings! But they are only a little people in old songs and children's tales out of the North. Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?'

'A man may do both,' said Aragorn. 'For not we but those who come after will make the legends of our time. The green earth, say you? That is a mighty matter of legend, though you tread it under the light of day!'

.....

'Scouts warned me of the orc-host coming down out of the East Wall three nights ago, ' he said. Among them they reported that some bore the white badges of Saruman. So suspecting what I most fear, a league between Orthanc and the Dark Tower, I led forth my éored, men of my own household; and we overtook the Orcs at nightfall two days ago, near to the borders of the Entwood. There we surrounded them, and gave battle yesterday at dawn. Fifteen of my men I lost, and twelve horses alas! For the Orcs were greater in number than we counted on. Others joined them. coming out of the East across the Great River: their trail is plain to see a little north of this spot. And others, too, came out of the forest. Great Orcs, who also bore the White Hand of Isengard: that kind is stronger and more fell than all others.

'Nonetheless we put an end to them. But we have been too long away. We are needed south and west. Will you not come? There are spare horses as you see. There is work for the Sword to do. Yes, and we could find a use for Gimli's axe and the bow of Legolas, if they will pardon my rash words concerning the Lady of the Wood. I spoke only as do all men in my land, and I would gladly learn better.'

'I thank you for your fair words,' said Aragorn, 'and my heart desires to come with you; but I cannot desert my friends while hope remains.'

'Hope does not remain,' said Éomer. 'You will not find your friends on the North-borders.'

'Yet my friends are not behind. We found a clear token not far from the East Wall that one at least of them was still alive there. But between the wall and the downs we have found no other trace of them, and no trail has turned aside, this way or that, unless my skill has wholly left me.'

'Then what do you think has become of them?'

'I do not know. They may have been slain and burned among the Orcs; but that you will say cannot be, and I do not fear it. I can only think that they were carried off into the forest before the battle, even before you encircled your foes, maybe. Can you swear that none escaped your net in such a way?'

'I would swear that no Orc escaped after we sighted them,' said Éomer. 'We reached the forest-eaves before them, and if after that any living thing broke through our ring, then it was no Orc and had some elvish power.'

'Our friends were attired even as we are,' said Aragorn; 'and you passed us by under the full light of day.'

'I had forgotten that,' said Éomer. 'It is hard to be sure of anything among so many marvels. The world is all grown strange. Elf and Dwarf in company walk in our daily fields; and folk speak with the Lady of the Wood and yet live; and the Sword comes back to war that was broken in the long ages ere the fathers of our fathers rode into the Mark! How shall a man judge what to do in such times?'

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers,  The Riders of Rohan

[atopvisenyashill]

omg pls pls post one bran meta 💔

i’ll give a rant for also loving my boy while i polish some stuff up but-

I am very much a “bran will be king” truther, i think there’s a lot of evidence for that that people kinda looked past bc they don’t find him interesting, bc they got into this series for the politics and not like, the fantasy aspects lol, but I do have like several ~scenarios~ for him, it’s just that “king of what’s left of westeros” is my favorite bc of the bittersweet aspect of it.

but part of why i think bran’s ending is kind of hard for everyone to grasp, is bc the show just didn’t give a shit about him (like, STATED they didn’t care about the fantasy aspects & i love to shittalk miguel & ryan & sara but at least they are Aware And Excited about the magic aspects of Terros). book readers tend to overlook him in favor of dany (the other big magical character) because george finds writing bran difficult and writing dany easier so we have like 50 dany chapters for every one of bran’s. but whereas there’s several dany chapters dedicated to world building, character introspection, magic, and politics EACH, bran gets all those themes kinda rolled up into these fleeting, monster chapters that are dense as fuck to read. EYE don’t mind that, but giving him like a third the amount of chapters as dany (or jon or tyrion or arya) is just REALLY setting that kid up to fail. but george has really explicitly stated he struggles with characters that are young, and he’s clearly talking about bran (probably sansa, sometimes arya as well) so it’s kinda. i get his struggle!! but he also clearly loves bran as a character bc the chapters we get are real rich!

but d&d don’t even give us what’s on the page bc they do not care!!! so it’s so hard to really pin down what the fuck is going on with bran, bc i truly think they cut most of the notes george gave them about bran, possibly even gave parts of his story to others bc “it would be cooler”, and then used him almost exclusively for exposition & shock value. like, for all we know, the long night is also very short in the books bc of something bran did while in the north, but those two thought it would be cooler if it was just one battle.

[sidebar but like i mean, also jon is a big magical character, but rn jon is less “a magical character” and more “a character that has magic happen to him” bc he’s still a bit uncomfortable about being a warg, bc the logistics & morality of it freak him out. honestly that’s a good thing for jon, bc look at what “do magic first ask questions later” has gotten dany and bran (and theoretically robb). being inside ghost is certainly going to change his outlook on magic & cause another identity crisis, but i don’t think the magical side is where jon is going to struggle morally]

[also i do think the long night is likely to be a little longer, because i think they’re getting to the trident, but potentially they only fuck the north and riverlands and not anywhere else because of something bran does. idk man. for all he goes on about aragorn’s tax policies, he has done with the wights & others exactly what’s done with the orcs. makes me wonder if there’s some plot about the others that involves bran befriending & humanizing a section of them & d&d went “that’s weird and boring” and cut it, like the way the director for i am legend changed the ending to that suicide grenade scene even tho the book ending is so objectively better that will smith said he’s gonna do a second movie but with the cut ending aksjjd. my evidence so far for that is like, negative evidence, which doesn’t make for good meta, so i’m excited to get to adwd so i can reread bran’s chapters in like, ya know, a year 😭]

[wordspin-shares]

For the 'Learn More About my WIP' ask game! ^_^ 👑, 🦀, ❄️ and 🤔 for Edged in Silver.

(I can't always ask for From the Sidelines lol)

Thank you! <3 (Oh, yes you can; feel free!)

👑 A random fact about one of my OCs

A random fun fact: Idrin can't cook. She can help with small tasks in the kitchen, but actually cooking is beyond her. One of the downsides of being born into nobility and having others cook for you.

🦀 A favourite piece of dialogue

From a future chapter:

"So many things we think will never come to pass, and yet yesterday the improbable occurred: the battle was won," Húron continued. "And the lost heir of Isildur shall claim the throne of Gondor, if he be not a figment of the imagination conjured in the wake of our victory," he added skeptically, looking up at the White Tower and the banner of Dol Amroth that flapped listlessly in the breathless breeze.

Silently listening to the two men talk, Idrin now sat straighter. "He is very much real," she said. "Had I not seen him lift the Black Shadow from Faramir, I too would have doubted him."

The retired Gondorian captain looked at her, quiet, but Éothain's lip twitched and a glimmer flickered in his eyes, one eyebrow quivering. "The Ranger from the North... King of Gondor. He has a bright sword, yea, and his bearing and speech are lofty, yet the line of Kings failed hundreds of years ago, 'tis said. Any man belonging to a branch of that forgotten kin could lay a high claim to the throne of Gondor."

Húron gazed at him. "Were you born a Gondorian, you would have learnt tales and legends that tell how the true King is known," he returned. "Doubtlessly there is a reason why this man's existence was kept a secret, and the truth of his birthright shall certainly be put to the test."

❄️ Toughest aspect of my WIP

It's not the tons of research or languages, it's actually writing Idrin herself. Or more precisely, trying to strike a balance between her haughtiness at times and her not becoming offensive. Being born to privilege, she has developed a certain pride, but she was taught to be courteous. So, finding that balance in those instances when the story calls for it can be a real challenge.

🤔 What’s the inspiration behind my WIP

Simply put, that gem of a line in The History of Middle-earth that reads: “[Denethor II] was first son and third child of Ecthelion …”

I had begun entertaining the thought of creating an original character that might fit into LotR's timeline without disrupting canon, long before reading HoMe, but I couldn't find a place for her. There were no plot-holes that the inclusion of a new character could address, no insufficiently explored characters who could benefit from the presence of an OC while having the plot tie into canon smoothly. I couldn’t see how I could create a main lead who would solidly impact canon without being a second daughter of Elrond/Galadriel/whomever, or a daughter of Denethor, or a protégé of Aragorn, or a disciple of Gandalf.

And then I read HoMe and came across that line. A quite perfect piece of history that was never included in any “official” narrative and never discarded either.

Since Denethor had siblings, it would be entirely possible that those siblings had children. And those children could be part of the story, filling roles that are expected to exist for things to run smoothly but are not mentioned, adding to the plot from backstage without altering anything.

Inspiration found.

— Learn More About my WIP.

[hoursofreading]

Given GRRM’s love of dramatic irony, I would guess that Stannis and Melisandre are at least partially correct about their sacrifice-to-forstall-the-apocalypse scenario; GRRM’s spent way too much time making sure we know who Nissa Nissa is for sacrifice not to play a part in the eventual endgame in the Heart of Always Winter. Where I think they’ve gone wrong is by failing to grasp the meaning of the Nissa Nissa legend – it’s not enough that the sacrifice be precious, it also has to be a willing sacrifice, ideally an act of self-sacrifice. (This is certainly how it played out with Daenerys’ sacrifice at the end of AGOT, and is almost certainly how it will play out between her and Jon at the end of ADOS.) As we saw from Edric’s stubborn insistence that he is a “Warrior’s man, like my father,” his sacrifice would be far from willing – to my mind, a sign that Shireen’s sacrifice will depart from the model of Iphigenia at Aulis. In the face of this literally apocalyptic thinking, Davos insists on the primacy of the prosaic over the eschatological. As he admits, the onion knight knows very little about the Long Night and the final Battle for the Dawn, but like the Ithakan mariner of old, he is rooted in his own lived experience of the sea: “I know the seas and rivers, the shapes of the coasts, where the rocks and shoals lie. I know hidden coves where a boat can land unseen.” This lived experience, which first brought him into the service of princes, has taught him a valuable lesson: “I know that a king protects his people, or he is no king at all.” I would argue that, more than anything else in A Storm of Swords, more than weddings red and purple and all the conspiring that happens in-between, this is the heart of GRRM’s political philosophy. If there is any virtue at all in the pseudo-medievalism that’s baked into the very heart of fantasy, any reason that Aragorn should be acclaimed and elevated above other mortals, than it is in the reciprocity of the feudal contract: protection for service. More than anything else, it was the failure to remember this basic truth that brought down House Targaryen. It has been the besetting sin of the War of Five Kings. It may yet be the salvation of the world.

Race For The Iron Throne

[frodo-with-glasses]

4, 10, 15 of Aragorn and Sam, if it hasn't been done yet

4. “My favorite thing about them”

Oh man, it’s so hard to pick just one thing. I’m always a sucker for the friendships with strong contrasts: we have Sam, who is very small and soft and simple and barely book-learned and hasn’t gone very far from his home ever in all his life; and we have Aragorn, who is tall and dark and rugged and has wandered many lands that Sam will never see, has forgotten words in more languages than Sam will ever know, and grew up among Elves and figures of legend that would make Sam’s jaw drop upon eye contact. Aragorn is forgotten royalty; Sam is a gardener. Aragorn is a fearsome warrior; Sam is a gardener. Aragorn has the blood of kings; Sam is a gardener.

But the fun of the contrast-y friendships is watching the characters discover and connect over what they do have in common. Sam and Aragorn both have servants’ hearts, and a desire to do what’s right, and a love of stories, and concern for Frodo. It’s that last one that really tips the scales of Sam’s opinion; no one who’s that invested in the wellbeing of Mr. Frodo could be all that bad. In the end, Aragorn becomes a mentor that Sam will happily follow, and someone he readily trusts.

Maybe that’s my favorite thing about them. The way that Aragorn earns Sam’s trust, wholly and completely, when they seemed so very different from each other at first, and the happy bond of a worthy leader and a devoted follower that results.

10. “A song that reminds me of them”

Last time I was asked this, I said “Dear Fellow Traveler” by Sea Wolf, and I think I’m gonna stick by that. I am slow to find new songs. ;-P

15. “If I would want to be friends with them”

Abso-frickin’-lutely 💚

FRIENDSHIP ASK GAME!

[swan-of-sunrise]

Spellbinding (Chapter Twenty Three)

Summary: The battle to save Alfheim and the Nine Realms from Tarian’s tyrannical rule begins.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for battle/combat violence

A/N: Writing battle scenes are hard, I would’ve had this out sooner but I was literally strategizing and writing out an entire battle lol I think it turned out good in the end! I really recommend checking out the Spotify playlist for these next chapters, the music makes the story seem even more epic! Thank you so much for reading and I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Three April 18th, 2016 Alfheim (Previous Chapter)

When (Y/N) was a small child, the subject of war had always intrigued her; she’d often read of epic battles between good and evil in fantasy novels and daydream about taking part in one of them, much like the Pevensies had in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe or Aragorn in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. As she grew up, though, her opinions on war evolved past childhood fantasies, as it became something horrifically real and something she never wanted to be a part of. But as fate would have it, she’d find herself preparing to lead an army of her mother’s loyal followers into battle against a tyrannical leader to not only save Alfheim, but the rest of the universe as well.

After she succeeded in astral projecting herself to Loki, (Y/N) passed out from over-exertion and woke several hours later in their temporary base camp about a mile away from Freyr’s Knoll, the hill where legends claimed King Freyr conjured the magical barrier that isolated Alfheim from the rest of the universe; several elders in the Rebellion’s Council believed that the hill was where Tarian would launch his campaign and the scouts they’d sent to track his army’s movements confirmed their theory. The Council then caught her by surprise when – once they reconvened to discuss the battle plan and strategies– they unanimously elected her to lead their forces.

“Me?” (Y/N)’s brows rose in disbelief. “I-I’m honored, of course, but I don’t think that I’m the suitable choice. Elora’s the one who’s led you guys for almost three decades, after all, not me…”

“That’s true, your highness, but now it’s time I return to my original duties as the protector of the throne.” Resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, Elora’s golden eyes were filled with trust as her lips curved into a small smile. “We will follow our rightful queen into battle just as we did twenty-seven years ago and Norns willing, her leadership will guide us to victory.”

David nodded in agreement. “You were born for this, princess, and you’ll make us proud. You always have and you always will…”

We just have to hold them off until Loki and Thor arrive with Odin’s Einherjar, (Y/N) told herself while she finished sharpening her sword in the shade of a large tree. Her confidence began to waiver as she looked up and observed the Alfheimian men and women preparing for battle around her; they were undoubtedly brave fighters for deciding to go against Tarian and an army of Draugar, but they were also primarily made up of older farmers and youthful recruits, a far cry from the tyrant’s expertly-trained personal guard that was accompanying him to Freyr’s Knoll.

“I know that they don’t look like much, princess, but you shouldn’t underestimate them.” (Y/N) glanced over to see David approaching, already dressed in his armor and slinging a full quiver of arrows over his shoulders. “‘All warfare is based on deception-’”

“‘Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable.’”

David’s smile widened and she felt her cheeks warm at the look of pride on his face. “Did you read The Art of War in college or while you were working at the library?”

“When I became friends with Steve Rogers, actually, it’s one of his favorite books.” She chuckled at the older man’s barely-concealed surprise. “It’s okay, even I find myself wondering how I managed to become friends with a World War II-era superhero. When I first joined the Avengers, Steve told me that there were lots of important things that Sun Tzu’s writing could teach people and not just about warfare, so I decided to give it a shot.”

“And was Captain America the one who taught you how to fight like you did in the dungeons the other night, with all those kicks and that cool flip-thing?”

“Yep, him and an Air Force veteran, an ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and a former Russian assassin.” She patted the hilt of her sword before sheathing it. “But Loki was the one who taught me how to swordfight.”

Nodding, David was silent for a moment before tentatively replying, “Look, I know that since I haven’t been a part of your life I’m probably overstepping by saying this, but you shouldn’t give up on him.”

“I…I never said that we were…”

The older man shrugged. “You didn’t have to, princess. Your eyes give it away every time you mention his name…and you’ve also got a habit of rubbing at your ring finger whenever you’re nervous.”

(Y/N) glanced down to see that she’d been absentmindedly fidgeting with the finger that once displayed her engagement ring and instantly stopped with an exasperated sigh. “Loki and I…we fell in love during my first few months with the Avengers and we were even engaged to be married, but then I ran away to Alfheim.” Reaching down, she pulled the green-hilted dagger out of her boot and twirled it in her hand; her fingers traced the Asgardian etchings along its hilt as her thoughts turned to hers and Loki’s emotional goodbye. “Because I knew he wouldn’t just let me leave, I used my magic to seize control of his mind long enough to slip through the portal I created. It’s a long story, but Loki’s dealt with mind control before and the experience…well, it’s something that he’s still getting over. That’s why I left my ring with him; he shouldn’t have to marry someone who betrayed his trust and hurt him like that.”

David lowered himself to sit on the crate beside her, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked down at his boots and fidgeted his hands. “Tarian was the one who manipulated you into taking that drastic step, (Y/N), and if Loki’s as smart as you say he is then I bet he already knows that. And since he’s sworn to do whatever it takes to help you defeat Tarian and an entire army of Draugar, I’d say that what you did hasn’t changed his mind about wanting a future with you, not one bit.” He glanced over at her with a soft smile on his face. “You love him?” She nodded. “Then take it from the guy who fell head over heels for an actual love goddess and don’t let that love go to waste…‘cause you won’t realize just how precious it is until it’s gone.” There was a flash of sadness in his eyes but it disappeared just as quickly as it came when he chuckled. “Truth be told, I’m looking forward to meeting the guy and finding out if that old Norse myth about him and the goat’s true or not.”

(Y/N) burst into laughter and David joined in, the anxious knot in her stomach beginning to lessen as the sound of their laughing filled the small glen. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but Tony Stark already beat you to that question; he got drunk on New Year’s Eve and asked Loki all about it, and then Loki spent the rest of the night complaining to me about how Midgardians always misinterpret everything. Along with his genius-level intelligence, Tony’s got a real gift for riling people up like that.”

He shook his head in amazement. “You’ve certainly got some eclectic friends, princess, but they sound like a great group of people. Maybe when all of this is over you can introduce us.”

“I’d like that a lot,” (Y/N) matched his grin with one of her own and tucked her dagger back into her boot, happy that she and her father were managing to bridge the gap in their relationship; the more they talked, the more she realized just how similar they were and after spending the past few days listening to people compare her to her mother, it was nice knowing that she shared just as many similarities with her long-lost father.

“Your new armor suits you, (Y/N),” Glancing up, she spotted Myriani and Hagen approaching and arched a brow when she noticed the rounded shield in Hagen’s arms; it was well-worn, with gouges in the wood and a faded paint job, but she could still make out the intricate rearing unicorn etched upon its surface. “But Hagen and I decided that it wouldn’t be complete without Layeia’s battle shield.”

The Alfheimian beside Myriani nodded in agreement. “The unicorn, a rare and magical creature that personifies both love and war, was her sacred symbol and now it belongs to you. Wield it with honor, your highness.”

(Y/N) looked over at David, who gave her a reassuring smile and gestured with his head towards the shield; she got to her feet and accepted the shield, securing it to her arm and testing its weight as she blinked away her tears. “I…I will. Thank y-”

The call of a horn suddenly echoed throughout the glen, causing everyone in the area to stop what they were doing and look around; David stood and before she could ask him what the sound meant, it called out again and spurred the surrounding rebels into action. With her jaw set in determination, Myriani slipped her helmet on and fastened its strap beneath her chin. “That’s the Gjallarhorn, the throne of Alfheim’s call to battle. Tarian’s here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The midday sun, though partially hidden behind grey-colored clouds, was high in the sky as (Y/N) gripped the leather reigns of her horse in her hands. She, David and Elora were positioned at the front of their army of five hundred Alfheimians with Freyr’s Knoll rising up behind them all; even though they’d gone over the battle plan more times than she could count and she knew that Loki was on his way, (Y/N)’s heart was beating at a rapid pace while her hands began to sweat in her fingerless gloves.

“Kiddo, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent…”

I’m not too sure that piece of advice applies to a universe-altering battle with a tyrannical ruler and his army of un-dead soldiers, Auntie, (Y/N) thought as she took a steadying breath, but I’ll try not to forget it. While the enemy’s marching began to grow louder, she glanced over at her father and blurted out, “What’s the first thing you want to do when you go back to Midgard?”

David looked at her in surprise but once he recognized the nervousness etched across her face, his eyes softened and he replied, “Well, I wanna pay my respects to your Aunt Evie but after that, I’d like to spend as much time as I can getting to know my amazing daughter.” His smile became more mischievous as he looked past her at Elora. “Elora here’s been looking forward to visiting Fenway again; baseball was one of the only things she truly liked about Earth, you know, that and Harrison Ford.”

“Say what you will about Midgardians, but they’ve invented so many different ways to battle one another for honor and glory…and as for Mr. Ford, I merely appreciate his skills as a film actor.” (Y/N) and David exchanged looks of amusement as Elora awkwardly cleared her throat and diligently stared ahead.

The sound of the Gjallarhorn filled the air once again, its echoes much closer than before. The wind picked up and as it blew in their direction, (Y/N) nearly gagged when the scent of decay reached her nose. Moments later, the enemy army appeared over the distant ridge and she got her first look at the un-dead Draugar; they were far more terrifying in person, their bodies an amalgamation of rotted flesh and their eyes glowing deep violet with the dark magic used to reanimate them. Their clawed hands were clutching swords and spears at the ready while they marched and as (Y/N)’s eyes scanned the horizon, she swallowed in nervousness; their small rebellion was clearly outnumbered by the Draugar and judging by the way Elora stiffened beside her, the Alfheimians were unnerved by the sight of their butchered and zombified countrymen.

When they were about two hundred yards away, the Draugar stopped marching and stood at attention. Out of the sea of snarling creatures appeared a chariot, drawn by two white horses with Tarian holding the reins; the tyrant was dressed in black leather-covered armor adorned with golden gauntlets and pauldrons, and a large golden crown rested on his head. The hand that wasn’t holding the chariot’s reins was clutching a tall staff and when she looked closer, she realized that the staff was topped by the Fjӧlkyngi Steinn; the glowing violet-colored stone was fixed to the staff with encasing gold bars, presumably to help stabilize the incredibly powerful Alf Seidr trapped within it. Although there was a vast distance between them both, she could feel his pale eyes boring into hers and her jaw tightened in anger, overwhelming hatred for the man who killed her mother and subjugated her people surging through her veins.

Two figures on horseback emerged from the Draugar and moved to flank Tarian’s chariot; the rider to the left was General Arbane, heavily-armored and with a confident smirk plastered on his face, and the rider on Tarian’s right-hand side was Amirah, trying and failing to mask her obvious discomfort. The Alfheimian princess’s conflicted state filled (Y/N) with a small glimmer of hope that they’d manage to pull off their ambitious battle plan, a plan that hinged on earning Amirah’s cooperation. Both David and Elora believed that Amirah would remain loyal to Tarian but (Y/N)’s gut told her that the princess would play an integral role in the upcoming battle, so they reluctantly agreed to help carry out her plan.

“The Royal Guard’s stationed behind the Draugar,” Elora quietly observed, her golden eyes narrowed as she surveyed the enemy before them. “Tarian intends for this to be a simple massacre, a footnote in the tale of his glorious campaign to rule the Nine Realms.”

(Y/N) shifted in her saddle and clutched the reins of her horse a little tighter. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

The three of them watched as Tarian raised the staff and slammed it down on the wooden floor of the chariot, the action sending shockwaves through the ground and causing the horses to nervously skitter; the Fjӧlkyngi Steinn glowed brighter and with his voice magically amplified, the tyrant began to speak. “My fellow Alfheimians, I do not wish to spill more of my countrymen’s blood. You have all been led astray by both the daughter and the lover of the traitorous Layeia, coerced by these weakling Midgardians into standing in the way of progress. Surrender now, and you will be shown mercy by your benevolent king. Further resistance will only result in death, for you and for everyone you love. The decision is yours.”

Tearing her eyes away from the massive army before them, (Y/N) looked over her shoulder at her own forces, taking in their simmering determination as they stared down the man who’d caused them so much pain for nearly three decades. I couldn’t ask for better soldiers to lead into battle, she thought with an inward smile, turning back to face the enemy. She held the reins in one hand and with the other, she drew her sword and held it high in the air as the Alfheimians behind her let out a deafening battle cry; despite the distance between them, she could make out the hardening look of disgust on Tarian’s face at their brave display and couldn’t stop herself from arching a brow in challenge.

Tarian leveled the staff in their direction and as they watched, the Draugar snarled and charged forward; ignoring the pang of dread at the sight, (Y/N) remained steadfast and kept her sword raised, carefully watching the creatures’ movements. Beside her, Elora called out to their forces, “Archers, to arms!” There was a sudden rustling of arrows being nocked into bowstrings and to her right, David was doing the same. “Take aim!” Bowstrings were pulled back as the Alfheimian men and women aimed their arrows at the sky and when the Draugar were about a hundred yards away, (Y/N) sliced her sword downwards and Elora cried out, “Fire!”

A volley of arrows flew through the air and quickly found their targets, lodging in the charging Draugar’s heads and chests; the arrows barely slowed them down and as Tarian’s smirk began to widen, the sounding of horns from the trees on either side of the creatures echoed through the air. Flaming arrows traveled through the skies and once they reached their targets – the gasoline-soaked arrows that their first archers fired – the shrieking Draugar burst into flames and collapsed in a second-death. The fire rapidly spread and in an instant, it formed into a massive wall of flames that separated both armies from one another.

“Nym would’ve really appreciated this part of the plan,” David remarked with a saddened tone as their forces let out a cheer. (Y/N)’s attention, however, was focused entirely on Tarian stationed across the battlefield; his pale eyes were filled with a cold and calculated fury and without looking away from her, he used the staff in his hand to easily extinguish the raging flames and ordered a fresh and much larger battalion of Draugar to charge forward. Now would be a really good time for Odin to send his Einherjar, she thought as she anxiously bit her lip and David muttered a curse. “Dammit, that was supposed to stall ‘em longer. That’s all the incendiary we’ve got…”

“What are your orders, your highness?”

Swallowing thickly, (Y/N)’s grip on her sword tightened. “Sound the battle horn. We’ll have to stall his army ourselves until our aid from Asgard arrives.” The Alfheimian woman beside her brought the curved horn up to her lips and blew, the high-pitched call announcing to their forces to prepare for direct combat. As their rousing battle cry sounded behind them, (Y/N) glanced over at an unaware David and tentatively spoke. “Dad?” Since learning that the older man was her long-lost father, she’d been careful not to call him by anything other than his name; she hadn’t felt quite ready to take that seemingly small step but as they stared down the charging army of Draugar, she realized that there was a possibility she’d never have the chance. David’s face was filled with surprise as he looked over at her, and she found comfort in his familiar gaze. “Will you stay with me?”

Her father’s eyes softened at her words. “I always will, princess.”

After exchanging a reassuring glance with Elora, (Y/N) took a deep breath and raised her sword high in the air before shouting, “FOR ALFHEIM!”

The three of them urged their horses forward into a gallop and charged, leading their small but determined army of Alfheimian men and women into battle; the horns sounded off from the trees on either sides of the advancing army and the rebel archers emerged, one group led by Myriani and the other led by Hagen. The three groups reached the charging Draugar at the same time and then their forces clashed in a cacophony of sound, the battle truly began.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Parry, slash and repeat. Parry, slash and repeat. (Y/N) was no stranger to combat but her time as an Avenger hadn’t exactly prepared her for the chaos and turmoil of battle, and while she fought, she began to suspect that her ancestry was the only thing keeping her alive. The quick reflexes and intuition she’d inherited from her mother helped her block the Draugar’s fierce attacks and counter with deadly strikes of her own. In the midst of all the fighting, she’d been knocked off of her horse and was continuing her attacks on foot, her sword and shield quickly becoming soaked with the tar-like blood of the reanimated creatures.

“We’re overextended!” Elora called out, swinging her battle axe and decapitating a nearby Draugar. “We must fall back if we’re to keep Tarian from reaching the Knoll-”

“We can’t, we need him to believe that we’re holding our own so that he, Arbane and Amirah’ll join the fight!” Flipping her sword around, (Y/N) drove its blade into the sternum of another Draugar and used the edge of her shield to shove its body back. “‘Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak!’”

As she fought, the Alfheimian woman let out a brief chuckle. “Your father’s quoted the words of Sun Tzu to me for almost thirty years, and now I’m forced to listen to my queen follow in his footsteps!”

“She’s a chip off the old block, isn’t she?” David appeared nearby, driving an arrow through the empty eye socket of a creature and firing the same arrow at another. “I agree with (Y/N) but the left flank could use a little shoring up!” Without another word, Elora hurried off to help their forces at the left flank and the two of them continued tearing through the onslaught of Draugar.

(Y/N) tried her hardest to keep her attention on her many attackers, but she couldn’t help but notice the bodies of slain Alfheimian rebels littering the battlefield and hear their dying cries amongst the din. We just need to hold on a little longer, she thought as she fought with renewed determination, just a little longer. Suddenly, she was knocked to the ground by a snarling Draugar and her sword skittered away; she had just enough time to raise her shield and while she used it to defend herself from its vicious claws, she reached down and withdrew Loki’s dagger from her boot. With a strangled yell, she drove the blade into the creature’s head and shoved its lifeless body off of her before staggering to her feet and tucking the dagger back into her boot. A sudden gust of wind whipped at (Y/N)’s hair and after retrieving her sword from the grass-covered ground, she turned to see a vivid-blue glow emanating from behind the nearby ridge.

“What the hell is that?” David called out to her as he hurried to her side. “That’s not Alf Seidr, is it?”

She shook her head and as the strange glow began to fade away, she raised her sword and shield in preparation for an attack…

Beep, beep!

The familiar car horn cut through the noise of the ongoing battle and as the two of them watched in amazement, a S.H.I.E.L.D. Jeep sped over the ridge and drove straight into the fray; in the darkening skies above them, Iron Man flew past them and began blasting Draugar with his repulsors and with a mighty roar, the Hulk appeared and began smashing through the nearby creatures with ease. A smile slowly spread across (Y/N)’s face as Loki and Thor finally made their appearance at the top of the ridge, both Princes of Asgard dressed in their full battle armor and practically radiating power; Thor’s eyes and arms were crackling with sparks of lightning and Loki’s entire body was surrounded by swirls of emerald-green magic. Instead of Odin’s Einherjar, the Avengers had arrived in their moment of need.

“…I take it that those are your friends?”

(Y/N) nodded, beaming as she blinked away her grateful tears. “Yes. Yes, they are.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gjallarhorn-Yelling Horn Fjӧlkyngi Steinn-Magic Stone

A/N: I couldn’t have written this chapter without The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe lol a lot of this battle was inspired by the final battle in that movie. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk?si=197086739bdf4fed

Chapter Twenty Four

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva​​​​ @ravenclawbitch426​​​​ @cminr​​​​ @confusedfandomwriter​​​​ @momc95​​​​ @nickkie99​​​​ @austynparksandpizza​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​ @a-laufeyson​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​ @ladydmalfoy​​​​ @itscomplicatedx​​​​ @0-artemis​​​​ @vivloki​​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​

[strangeradventuresofp]

second thoughts (legolas x reader)

The Fellowship of the Ring - Part 1

masterlist

warnings: none (i think)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

a/n : so after writing it for the first time, rewriting it and then rewriting it again lol the first chapter of my canon lotr fic is here. not much legolas x reader interaction in this one, more of just an introduction to the series and the readers relationships etc. i also quickly wanna thank @falcor-thee-luck-dragon​ for being super supportive of this ever since i even mentioned it as an idea ily! im super excited for it and i hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading i love you and i hope you have a wonderful day<3 (also i guess let me know if you want to be added to my taglist)

The journey to Rivendell was purely insufferable. Not only was it due to the time it took nor the saddle sore that you had endured, but to how the time had passed so quickly and yet so painfully slowly at the very same time. You had always loved to travel, but you did not seem to have any time at all to admire the vast amount of sights that appeared before you. In the blink of an eye they were gone, and the views became new for a brief second before they disappeared beyond what you could see. Your eyes were forced to stay focused on the road and the rider ahead of you so that the way would not be lost.

When you arrived at Rivendell, however, all of the annoyance that you had endured throughout the voyage seemed to simply melt away. There were no words for how you felt in that moment when you dropped from your horse, gaping at the infrastructure in complete awe. Always, you had associated elves with inexplicable beauty, but never would you have expected something as incredible as what lay before you. Quick to abandon your guide, you made sure to take your precious time when you strode through the decorative archways, following up the spiral staircase, marveling at everything your eyes could possibly muster.

It had hardly been long when your eyes travelled to seek out shards of a broken blade, sat on a bed of silk, a statue standing tall behind it. The concrete seemed to present it to all who passed. You dared not touch it, though a wave of tempt washed over your senses. The fragments made up Narsil, the blade of King Elendil, the one used by his son, Isildur, to cut the finger that held the One Ring of Sauron the Terrible during the War of the Last Alliance. The legend of the One Ring had faded into less than nothing over the years of its absence, but fear always struck you when you imagined the dreaded return of the Dark Lord. The longsword that lay in front of you belonged to the heir of Isildur, the King of Gondor, Aragorn Son of Arathorn. Your heart forever ached with hope that one day he would return to the White City and that the useless steward that held his place would once again be nothing more than just that.

You had scarcely noticed the figure sitting beside the balustrade until you had felt an uneasy turn in your stomach, signaling that someone was watching you. As you shifted your eyes over to the body in black, they fell upon a man with long, unkempt hair and a scruffy grown-out stubble that covered his face and neck. His arm was casually slung over the handrail, his lips drawn into a perfectly straight line and his eyes were fixed on you. The edge of his lips turned up as your eyes locked.

You blinked. “Aragorn! Forgive me, I was unaware of your presence; I would have come sooner.”

“It is good to see you, Y/N.”

“You, as well, mellon nin.” You clapped him on the shoulder. “I had planned to ride north a little while ago.”

“And I had planned to ride for the White City, until Gandalf called upon me.” Aragorn said, and your mouth turned up into a smile. Your eyes flickered up to the ceiling, once again distracted by the beautiful view.

“It is beautiful here. You are very lucky.” Aragorn gave you a small smile. “For why have I been brought here, Aragorn?”

He took a breath. “You will find out, soon enough. For now, you should rest. Your journey could have hardly been sparing.”

“Oh, alright.” You mused, now engaged with the thought of bed and sleep. He gently shook your shoulder. “Goodnight, Aragorn.”

“Goodnight.” He returned to his previous position; arm hung over the bannister as you ambled off in search of a place where you could find rest.

During your search, your feet treading across smooth slabs, and you came to a halt. There were small folk, talking to one another. They were speaking in the common tongue, and seemed half of your height, though you could not really tell from a distance. Fascinating, you thought. So far, the thought had not even crossed your mind that others might be here, besides yourself, Boromir and Aragorn and Gandalf, of course.

One of them moved toward the other, who was staring out among the balcony. The starrer turned, showed something in the palm of his hand and spoke.

“You’re right, Sam. We did what we set out to do.” He opened his hand and lowered his voice. What he said next could not be distinguished by your faint ears. “I am ready to go home.” He put his hand back into his pocket before it slithered out once again, only this time it was empty.

“And where would home be for you two?” You asked. They turned to look at you.

“The Shire, miss.” One said, the one called Sam.

“Hobbits! In Rivendell! How incredible. How curious.” Kneeling down to get a better look, Sam straightening his vest as the other kept a firm hand on his pocket. You noticed. “Do not fret, hobbit from The Shire. I am not interested in stealing from you. Or anyone else, for that matter. But perhaps a small piece of advice is, make it less obvious that you are carrying something worth taking.” The hobbit with brown, curly hair and bright blue eyes smiled sheepishly. You chuckled, standing. “Go to rest, hobbits. Get ready to go home, to The Shire.”

They bumbled off and a smile spread across your face as you continued the forage for somewhere to sleep.

~~~

The morning came quickly. The night had been comfortable, and you set out early to explore the inhabitancy that you had found yourself entering that day previous. A meeting had been called to finally reveal why your presence had been requested, and now, you sat on a chair in a circle, surrounded by some known faces and many unfamiliar ones. There were elves and dwarves grouped near each other, which would never be a good idea. One of the hobbits from the day before sat beside Gandalf. You were located between Boromir and Aragorn, two of your very good friends. Lord Elrond sat at the head of the circle. He stood once everyone had arrived.

“Strangers of distant lands, friends of old. You have summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it.” Lord Elrond began. He scanned those sat before him. “You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this one fate, this one doom.” He paused, turning to the hobbit. He brought his arm forth, inviting him.

“Bring forth the Ring, Frodo.”

By Elrond’s instruction, Frodo placed a golden ring on the centered table. Boromir muttered something under his breath. Then Frodo turned, and sat back in his seat, looking rather timid. You gave him a small smile before your eyes glued to the table and the item it held upon it. It called to you, whispering things in a language that you could not understand and subconsciously you were sure you did not want to hear what it was saying to you. How did a hobbit from the Shire receive a Ring of Power? What business did he have with it?

“It is a gift.” The voice tore you from your thoughts. Your eyes caught sight of Boromir standing beside you. “A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring?” You pursed your lips in disapproval. One who thought of using any of the Rings of Power is a fool.

“Long has my father, the steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay by the blood of our people, while your lands kept safe.” He looked at you, nodding, giving you the notion that you should be encouraging him. But you couldn’t help but think that Boromir sounded rather ill. Your eyes travelled to the floor for a moment before he continued. “Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against Him.”

“Do you know nothing of the Ring?” Your brows furrowed as you spoke, unable to contain your discontent for his words any longer. “It is because of Man’s weakness that the Ring survives. It is not safe in the hands of Men.” You spat unwillingly. You hadn’t expected your words to come off so aggressive. After all, you did not want to hurt Boromir’s feelings, just make him see sense. His eye caught yours and you gave him an apologetic look.

“It does not matter; you cannot wield it. None of us can.” Aragorn said. “The one Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.”

“And what would a ranger know of this matter?”

“Boromir—”

“This is no mere ranger.” Behind Boromir someone stood. It was an elf. Some of his silky hair had been tied back into braids and a velvet cloak smothered his built body. His dark brows drew together as he spoke. “He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.” You studied him with curiosity, narrowed slightly whilst you scanned his presence. His eyes locked with yours for a brief moment before you turned them back to Boromir, who seemed to be staring at your friend in utter disbelief.

“Aragorn? This, is Isildur’s heir?”

“And heir to the throne of Gondor.” The elf finished and you looked at him as a way to avoid Boromir’s gaze. It was true. The White City that Boromir’s father currently ruled deserved to have their rightful King back. You could only hope that one day Aragorn would finally take the throne and restore the faith of Gondor once again.

“Sit down, Legolas.” Aragorn spoke in an elvish tongue. So, this was the infamous Legolas, you thought. Aragorn had spoken a lot of him to you in the past, but you had yet to meet him until this very moment.

“Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King.” Boromir took his seat beside you, but you still refused to return his eye. Instead, you and the elf shared a look.

“Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.” Gandalf confirmed.

“You have only one choice.” Lord Elrond stood. “The Ring must be destroyed.” Silence fell among the space for a moment, before a dwarf shifted off of his seat, his fingers tightening around the axe beside him.

“What are we waiting for?” He rumbled, swinging his axe over his shoulder to slice the Ring with a roar. His blade ricocheted and shattered. His back became flush to the floor, his eyes wide in shock. You gasped, sitting forward in your seat to rush to help him. But before you could, the other dwarves appeared by his sides, steadying him.

Frodo clutched his chest when the dwarf’s blade collided with the Ring, as if the axe had struck Frodo himself. Pain seemed to radiate through his body. You looked to him, concerned. Gandalf had also noticed the hobbit’s reaction to the attempted destruction of the Ring.

“The Ring cannot be destroyed Gimli, Son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade.” Lord Elrond looked around at the subjects once again. “It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this.”

“One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The great eye,” he made a circle with his hand, “is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this, it is folly.”

“Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed.” Legolas stood, once again challenging your companion. You agreed that the Ring had to be destroyed, there was no doubt about that. Venturing deep into Mordor, however, was an impossible task.

“And I suppose you think you’re the one to do it.” Gimli bellowed from his seat, eyes wide with hatred, fixed upon the elf.

“And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?” Boromir stood and you mirrored his actions, gently grabbing his arm, ushering him to calm down.

“I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!” The words of Gimli, son of Gloin, had all of the elves standing in protest which quickly led to the dwarves standing in hostility too. The squabbling continued despite your attempts to calm it down. You took your seat, sharing a defeated sigh with Aragorn. Gandalf stood to try to diffuse the tension.

“I will take it.” A small voice against the yelling caught your attention. Frodo had stood, standing beside the table. You pulled Aragorn’s sleeve to get his attention, your brows furrowed.

“I will take it!” The disputing seemed to die down when he raised his voice and you shook your head gently at him. “I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though… I do not know the way.”

“I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bear.” Gandalf placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Aragorn stood from beside you, marching towards the hobbit, keeling.

“If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword.”

It was no question for you as you stood, kneeling beside Aragorn. “You have my knives.”

“And you have my bow.” Legolas moved towards the hobbit. The three of you moved behind Frodo. You gently rubbed his shoulder, sharing a smile with him when he looked up at you.

“And my axe.” Gimli raised his weapon in the air, joining you.

“You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, Gondor shall see it done.” Boromir gave you a smile and you were quick to return it. A yell echoed from behind, another hobbit running to join Frodo. It was Sam.

“Mister Frodo’s not goin’ anywhere without me.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.” A smirk tugged at Elrond’s lips and more shouts were heard from behind. Two more hobbits joined.

“We’re comin’ too! You’ll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us.” One said, slinging his arm around Frodo’s shoulders.

“Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest. Thing.” The other chimed in, raising his eyebrows. The other turned to him in disbelief.

“Well, that rules you out, Pip.” You giggled quietly at the hobbits, the one in the yellow waistcoat turning to grin at you before Lord Elrond chuckled slightly. His eyes scanned over the group before him.

“Ten companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.”

“Right! Where are we going?” The hobbit in the green coat, Pip, asked. The other, once again, stared at him in disbelief. Gandalf shook his head.

~~~

You were chatting aimlessly with Aragorn by the gates of Rivendell, where you had arrived only a few days previous. The Fellowship were getting ready to leave in the next hours, you had been preparing for days. Now, all that was needed was to get little extra items that could help along the journey.

Aragorn gave a smile to someone behind you and you turned, standing beside him. It was Legolas. You smiled at him and he returned it.

“Forgive me, my Lady, but I am unsure of your name.” He said.

“Y/N. Pleased to finally meet you, my Lord.”

“Legolas Greenleaf.” He corrected. “The pleasure is mine.”

“So, you are the infamous elf that Aragorn has mentioned to me so many times. I had begun to believe Arwen was no longer in his heart and you had taken her place.” Legolas and Aragorn chuckled at your joke. You gave Aragorn a cheeky grin before you caught sight of Boromir. “Please, excuse me.” He made his way toward you as you did the same. When you reached each other, he chuckled, shaking his head.

“You just cannot help yourself, can you?” Boromir said and you giggled. “I am proud of you. It was a brave thing to do.” You threw your arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you for coming along, too. It will be nice to have Aragorn around and, of course, the others who I am yet to know, but I am very glad for your presence.”

“And I for yours.” He chuckled, clapping you gently on the shoulder. You gave him one last tight squeeze before making your way over to the dwarf. You stood silently beside him for a little time, while he mumbled things to himself that you could make out.

“Forgive me for interrupting you, Master Dwarf. I would like to know your name; I do not recall it from the meeting.”

“You’re not interrupting me, lassie. The name is Gimli, Son of Gloin.” Gimli responded, giving you a tight-lipped smile. You returned it with a genuine smile though you worried he was wary of you.

“Pleased to meet you, Gimli, Son of Gloin. I am Y/N.” You responded kindly. Not knowing what else you could say, your feet decided to take you over to the hobbits, one of which you had already met. Sam and the other two hobbits were tending to their respective packs that they would bring on the journey. Frodo was absent.

“There’s a girl?”

“Yes, there’s a girl, Pip. Did you not see?” The other replied.

“Stood beside Strider, she was.” Sam mentioned, earning a nod from the other.

“Are you talking about me, hobbits?” You drew your arms over your chest, one of your eyebrows raised, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“N—No, miss! We were just—”

“Then, what exactly were you talking about?”

They looked between each other. “Merry was speaking about you, miss. Talkin’ of how pretty you were, he was.” Sam admitted and your heart felt warm in your chest. Pip nodded to back up Sam’s claim and a light blush dusted over Merry’s cheeks. You smiled.

“You are very sweet, Merry. If I may call you that.”

“Meriadoc Brandybuck is my full name. But call me Merry if you please.”

“Alright, Merry.” You said softly.

“What’s yours?” Pip questioned.

“Y/N.”

“That’s a nice name.” Sam gushed and you could not help but grin. Who knew that a few hobbits could be so incredibly sweet? You pondered, ruffling their hair gently before you wandered off again, sitting by yourself this time.

~~~

It had been almost a week since the Fellowship had set off from Rivendell and all had agreed that a night stop was definitely needed. You and Aragorn had agreed that you would take the night watch for you did not get much rest even at home. It was not difficult for you to still function without much sleep. Before everyone went off to bed, however, they were shoveling food down their empty stomachs. You sighed, looking at the food spread. You were not particularly hungry though you knew you were going to have to eat something. Sam finished his own food and made sure Frodo completed all of his, plating up another portion and plodding his way over to you. He sheepishly held out the bowl to you, scratching the back of his neck with his spare hand. You gave him a smile, thanking him, taking the bowl before biting into the food. Sam took a seat beside you, making sure you would eat everything.

“You should really be eatin’ everything you can, Y/N. We wouldn’t be wanting you to starve.”

A breathy laugh left your lips. “I’m alright, Sam. You needn’t worry about me.”

“Not worrying, miss. Just making sure you’re alright.”

“Thank you.” Sam shared a smile with you. “And you? Are you alright?” He gave you a nod. You continued to eat until you had finished everything in the bowl. By that time, most of the Fellowship had settled down to get some sleep but Sam was still at your side.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He yawned, treading off to settle beside his master. You wrapped your cloak further around yourself, sitting beside Aragorn. Neither of you spoke for a while, rather just enjoying the other’s presence in a comfortable silence.

You do not remember much of how you and Aragorn had met, only that he had saved your life. He was known to you as Strider back then. There was a creature that attempted to attack you. You knew nothing of combat back then. He slayed the beast and brought you back to Rivendell. Quick friends you had become. Somehow, Lord Elrond arranged for you to be taken to Gondor. It was there that you would grow up. Boromir acted as your father since you had first arrived there. He was protective of you; you were the daughter he had failed to have.

“What are you thinking of, mellon nin?” Aragorn said in a whisper. You took a breath.

“Our friendship. And how I am glad to spend time with you once again before I make my decision.”

“Have you made it?” He queried, turning his head to look at you and you shook your head at him.

“It is not simple, Aragorn. How am I supposed to make a decision that affects the rest of my life and those who will come after me?” Another sigh left your lips and you leaned into Aragorn’s side.

“I could not describe the feeling when Arwen chose what she wanted. My heart ached with many feelings.”

“Arwen has something to choose for,” you mentioned. “Who knows? Perhaps I will meet a lovely fellow, be it man, elf, dwarf, or even, hobbit, and I decide that I want to spend the rest of my life with them. That would sway my decision quite a lot. I could not imagine being shipped off to the Undying Lands while my love stays on Middle-Earth. Nor would I want to wait for them to die and then hop on a boat to live forever. I am unsure, Aragorn.”

“You need not make any decision yet, mellon.” You continued to speak with your close friend throughout the night, whilst keeping close watch on your surroundings. However, what you did not notice was that a third member of the Fellowship was far from sleep and had in fact been listening in on your conversation.

Legolas rolled over, turning away from the two of you, his head against something that acted as a quite poorly pillow. He had not the slightest idea of what you meant, only that for some reason, you could choose to make your way to the Undying Lands. But this was something that man could not do, so why were you able to choose? He did not know. But he wanted to find out. He did not know why but you intrigued him. How friendly yet quiet you were. The timid yet confident way that you carried yourself. The knives that you held on your belt. He had not seen you use them yet, luckily, but he was looking forward to. You were the first woman he had seen since Tauriel who carried weapons. It was not common for a woman to be trained in combat. He pondered where you had learned, and if you were any good at all.

“The night is long, mellon nin. You should rest.” Aragorn suggested.

You let out a chuckle. “And leave you by yourself? You will need me to protect you from any danger. I will not rest.” Aragorn smiled at your words and gave you a nod. Your eyelids became heavy throughout the night, but you refused to give in to the temptation and the snores of Gimli were sure to keep you from any sleep that you could potentially get. Fixing your cloak around yourself for warmth, your eyes continued to search the space around you. Your ears perked up so to hear any sign of movement. You watched your breath exit your mouth and disperse into the crisp air. The moon was bright and tall in the sky. Hoping nothing would come in the night, you sighed and relaxed against the tree that you were sat up against though still keeping a firm hand on your knife belt. Aragorn pulled you into his side and you smiled. Your hand tightened around your belt.

“Goodnight, Aragorn.” You whispered, and you hoped it would be.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

What do you think Grima and Eomer are most scared of? Apart from being left alone with each other, of course :) I think Eomer is terrified of spiders - he has to ask Eowyn to remove them. Grima's fears are probably grander and more philosophical e.g. non-existence, failure, imperfection. But I bet he's terrified of weird stuff as well - exposed knees, clowns, steep stairs...

Oooooooh I love this question!! (granted I love any and all questions about these two)

[Oh god this got so long, I’m sorry but also not sorry.]

So I mean, it would depend what kind of fear we’re talking about. 

In terms of day-to-day fears/things that spook you or creep you out. I think Eomer has a REAL problem with house (mead hall?) centipedes. 

‘Too many legs, Grima. They have too many legs. I did not sign up for this.’ 

Once. when Eomer was like 10, he woke up with a house centipede on his chest and he’s never recovered. 

Grima just shoos the critter outside. Eowyn lectures her brother about their importance in the grand ecosystem. Eomer doesn’t care. 

Like when Eomer sees a house centipede all the hair on his body stands on end and he feels that cold wash of terror. I mean, if he had to, he could deal with it himself. But he’d be internally screaming the entire time. Stoic externally, of course. He is a brave rider of Rohan! But inside? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

-

I think Grima gets creeped out by uncanny valley things. Mostly dolls. I think he assumes 90% of all dolls are cursed. One time his niece left her doll behind and Grima had to lock it in a box and hide it in a storage room and he was still a little convinced that it was going to escape and murder them all. Chucky style. 

Eomer: I want to get my sister a doll for the baby she and Faramir are about to have. How about this one? 

Grima: W h y would you traumatize a baby like that Eomer? Are you a monster? 

Eomer: This .... this is a cute doll. It’s not going to haunt them. 

Grima: You don’t know that for certain. Look at those beady eyes. Always watching. 

Eomer: Ghosts and draugr are fine but not dolls?

Grima: My undead brother might be a pain in the arse but at least I know what to expect from him. Mostly his trying to eat people. But it’s within the bounds of reason. That fucking doll on the other hand? Who knows what it thinks in the dark hours of the night. Who knows what secrets it holds in its heart. 

Eomer: . . .I think I’ll just get the kid a stuffed animal horse. 

Grima: Much better. 

I also think Grima gets easily spooked by flying insects. Like once he ascertains that the sudden movement within his line of vision isn’t going to hurt him, he’s fine. But his initial reaction is to get up and leave very quickly and let Eomer deal with it. Grima has a strong association between sudden movements and getting punched. Reasonable, really. 

Shared thing? I think Eomer and Grima both find teeth to be really creepy. 

Eowyn: They’re just bones in your mouth. It’s fine. 

Grima: MOUTH BONES??? DON’T CALL THEM THAT. 

Eowyn: Mouth! Bones! Mouth! Bones!

Eomer: I hate all of this. 

Eowyn: Mouth bonessssss! 

Eomer shows up in Osgiliath, hasn’t seen Eowyn in like two years, she gives him a hug and whispers ‘mouth bones’ into his ear just to freak him out. Because they’re loving and caring siblings like that. 

Eowyn: My daughter is just starting to get her mouth bones in.

Grima: I refuse to engage with this.

Faramir: Babe, why are you like this??

Eomer: I brought this doll for her. 

Eowyn: That is so cursed, I’m surprised Grima let you buy it. 

Eomer: I don’t know, I think it’s kind of cute. 

Eowyn: hmmmm yeah well you’re sleeping with that thing over there so I don’t know that your judgement can be trusted. 

Grima: h e y.

Faramir: What kind of family did I marry into??

/

Now, for deeper fears. 

Eomer is the one who has a deep seated fear of failure. Of not living up to the expectations set on him from a very young age. Both as son of Eomund, who is like local hero 101, and as nephew to the king. Being orphaned at a young age, I suspect he had a lot of pressure placed on him to Be the Man in the Family. To Take Care Of Everyone etc.  

And it’s hard being the son of someone who has a bit of a legend around them when they’re alive, let alone when they’re dead and so they become an impossible standard to live up to. 

This isn’t to say Eomer is a stick in the mud and doesn’t get up to mischief. This is the man who drops sick burns for a living and can be described as “compulsively truculent”. Like, Eomer at 18 was absolutely a bit of a mad lad. But, there was always this fear and anxiety hanging over him of having to live up to great expectations - most of which he’s placed on himself but he’s not aware of that. 

Later, I’ve always headcanon-ed that he does a bit of that daft thing of comparing himself to Aragorn and is like “I’m not living up to the story book legend who rules the neighbouring kingdom” and despairs. 

Eowyn: You’re doing fine. And really, Boromir and Arwen run 80% of everything. Aragorn disappears into the mountains at any given moment. 

Eomer: But what if I’m somehow failing everything at all times? Have you thought about that? That I’m failing our parents and ruining our father’s legacy and destroying our uncle’s trust in me??

Eowyn: .  . . yeah that’s not happening. You’re fine. 

Eomer: BUT AM I???

Eowyn awkwardly pats his hand, ‘You’re fine.’ Eomer despairs. 

Grima: Can’t do worse than me. 

Eowyn: Yeah! You can’t do worse than Grima. 

Eomer: That bar is so low it’s underground. 

Additional to this, I think Eomer is scared of letting things go - like giving up control in situations. Because he’s got it into his head that so long as he is in control he can keep everyone safe and no one will die (i.e. his sister). And he’s terrified of things heading down the Road of Chaos. 

Which like, Eomer, good luck with that. You live in Middle Earth and Grima’s still around being the agent of chaos that he is. 

Grima: I’ve had a thought. 

Eomer: Oh no. Put it back where you found it. 

Grima: Too late, I’ve told Eothain and he thinks it’s great. 

Eomer: Gods preserve me. 

Eothain: Ok but hear us out -- 

-

For Grima - he’s got a long of weird, existential fears. The World Ending being the biggest of them. He’s got a bit of a nihilistic, hopeless streak in him that can get quite philosophical in terms of dread. 

But for more personal, grounded fears, I think the main one is that he’s terrified of being seen. Of being vulnerable. Because if people see him/know him, surely they’ll hate him and leave him and that would hurt so, so much. Therefore, if he’s mean to everyone, including himself, then people can’t hurt him because he’s already doing their work for them to himself. 

Yet, he’s also afraid of being alone and so desperately wants to love and be loved but doesn’t know how to go about making that happen in a healthy, normal manner. So he self-sabotages. Tells himself things like, “I was not a lovable child, and I’d grown into a deeply unlovable adult. Draw a picture of my soul and it’d be a scribble with fangs.” - Gillian Flynn 

This just creates a fucked up freeze/thaw cycle of “I want to fit in and belong somewhere, but if people know me they’ll see what an ugly thing I am, better that they don’t know me, so let me shut them out/be mean to them etc., no one cares for me because I am unworthy of it, this hurts a lot, and I think fitting in and belonging would probably stop it hurting, but if people know me they’ll see what an ugly thing I am, better they don’t ... so on and so forth.” 

So yeah. His deep seated fears of being vulnerable + being along make for some twisted thinking and lots of self-sabotaging. 

Grima; What is emotional vulnerability?? Never heard of it. 

Theoden: You could give it a try, you know. 

Grima: No. I refuse. 

Grima does that thing that Carrie Fisher talks about: “Of all the violence I have known in my life, I have not known violence like the way I talk to myself.” 

/

Thank you so much for the ask! This was an absolute blast to answer. I loved every minute of it. 

I love all Grima and Eomer questions. 

<3 <3 

[goldenvoicedminstrel]

TGW prompt: I wanted to write something with Legolas and Beleg in Aman, but I didn't end up with the time - could you do it for me? :)

Sooo... first of all, thanks so much for this super interesting prompt! I never would have thought this up for myself so it was a lot of fun to come up with something. I hope you like it!  Link to ao3  here.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

They say never meet your heroes, but what if your hero wants to meet you?

He lifts his bow. 

There are no targets here in these unfamiliar woods of Aman, or at least none that he has not picked out for himself, but he would hate to lose his skill. Even if there is no use for his weapon in the Hallowed Lands, except for hunting and sport, 3000 years of battle readiness are not easily forgotten.

An understanding-he knows- that is shared widely in the Valinor he has come to know, where the elves of the First Age try their best to forget wars more gruesome than any warrior of Mirkwood could imagine. 

‘How strange it is to walk in the company of Legends’, he ponders. ‘To wander alongside the great Kings of the First Age, of whose valour little elflings beg to be told before they are sent off to bed. I do not believe I shall ever be used to it.’

Yet they had not been his bedtime stories, not exactly, as his father was notorious for his dislike of the Noldor, including their Kings and their great warriors, who had battled against Morgoth himself. 

No, it was not them the elfling in Legolas secretly wished to meet.

“Look Adar! Look at my bow! I’m Beleg Cúthalion and I will slay aaaaaall the orcs and rescue my friend!”

“I am sure you will, little one, but isn’t that bow a little tall for you?”

The little blond elfling pouts, while his blue eyes carefully measure the longbow that reaches a good few inches over his head and then, seemingly having come to a conclusion, he straightens his narrow shoulders.

“Then I will have to eat all the vegetables that naneth says will make me grow big and strong.” he pronounces gravely and his father struggles to keep an equally serious expression on his own face.

“That is a very smart idea, ion-nin. Your mother will surely be delighted and your friends grateful to have such a loyal and dedicated companion at their side.”

The elfling beams widely at his father’s approval and then takes off to get ready for supper with a new found determination. 

Legolas smiles at the memory. His resolve to eat his vegetables had not lasted, much to his parent’s disappointment, and neither had his father’s approval of his great role model. Not once he had befriended Aragorn and not once he had decided to follow him on the long path to Mordor.

“It is the right thing to do Adar, you know this. I cannot stand back when the fate of this world hangs in the balance.”

“There are others, who can care for this world. Your place is here with your people.”

“My place is by his side and I will not leave him. Not now, when he is to set out on the path of his destiny.”

“His destiny,” Thranduil scoffs but his scorn his tinged with desperation “And what will your own destiny be? Is it not enough they call you Cúthalion for you skill? Will you have to follow a mortal man into a doomed quest so they can call you Cúthalion for your fate as well?”

He notches another arrow and aims for a bundle of pinecones that hangs half-hidden behind a distant branch. 

Such a meeting would be most unlikely, he tells himself. After all, his, hopefully careful and discreet, enquiries had revealed that the elf in question does not often dwell in the great cities but prefers to roam the woods with his old companion and there is no reason at all, why he would come to seek out-

“You shoot well.” comes a voice from behind him and Legolas, who had been lost deep in thought and not focused on his surrounding- something that tells him he has become more used to life in Aman than he thinks- startles and let’s loose the string a fraction too high.

Before he can huff out a sound of annoyance at the interruption and his own carelessness however, the stranger has already fired his own arrow, which now flies with great speed towards Legolas’ wayward one and brushes it slightly, forcing it down. The pinecones fall.

Legolas stares. 

Then he turns around.

And stares some more.

“You- who- what- ? No!”

There is a smirk tugging at the stranger’s lips. 

“I do apologise for the rude interruption, I have not even introduced myself. I am Beleg, I hope I did not startle you too much.”

In this very moment it is only millennia of training in diplomacy and a courteous facade that keep Legolas from a very undignified display of disbelief. He answers reflexively.

“Legolas Thranduillion. It is - an honour to meet you, Beleg Cúthalion, your name truly serves you as well as the tales say.”

His companion- Beleg Cúthalion- laughs. 

“Truly, you flatter me! But I shall never be used to being thought of as a character in a tale, it seems so strange don’t you agree?”

“I would not know for they are no tales sung about me.” Legolas answers a little breathlessly, still in awe of the apparition in front of him. Beleg raises his brows. 

“Are they not? And yet I know you to be Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, one of the Nine, who set out to destroy the Ring of Power and end Sauron’s reign once and for all. Your archery is much praised, and from what I have seen before I so rudely interrupted, for good reason.”

Legolas tries his hardest not to gape at the revelation that Beleg Cúthalion did not only know his name but had also just praised his archery skills. 

“I- thank you. It is a great honour, truly to hear you speak of me so. I never would have dreamt that-I mean I-“ he can feel the tips of his ears turning red as he tries to find the right words and is saved further embarrassment only, when the legendary elf puts a steadying hand on his shoulder. 

“Peace, Legolas. You need not be afraid of me. After all, we have much in common you and I.”

“I would never dare to compare my skill to-“

“No.” Beleg interrupts him gently. “I do not speak of archery, even though I have heard there are those, who would gladly grant you my title. I speak of the company we have kept and lost, though fate seems to have viewed your friendship with kinder eyes.”

Legolas falls silent as years of memories well up behind his eyes, and his companion is quick to speak up again.

“Please forgive me if my words brought you pain, I know your grief must still be near.”

“No, no it is quite alright.” He shakes his head slowly. “I have made my peace with the price of our friendship long ago. I can call myself lucky it has lasted many years in the span of mortals…”

He trails of as he realises who he is speaking to, but Beleg seems to have taken no offence and only nods in quiet agreement.

“Indeed you are fortunate.” He pauses, and as he speaks his gaze is searching. “Not many of our people understand why I chose to follow a mortal man, but you do, do you not?”

“Yes.” Legolas answers, and there is a lump in his throat. “I understand.” 

And he does, for he would have done the same. Had done the same. And it was only by luck that death had not been his reward.

“Their spirits burn so bright, perhaps because they have so little time. Always changing, evolving, flickering in a captivating dance that draws us like moths to the flame until eventually…” Beleg quietens as something flashes behind his eyes, and as he opens his mouth again his tone has changed to something that might be longing or might be resignation or might be something entirely else. 

“We Eldar merely exist throughout our long days, while the Edain…they live. They cannot stand still, for life does not wait with them, so they move and decide and we move with them until our fate is decided. I envy them at times.”

“They make us feel alive.” Legolas echoes in agreement.

“Alive and of use for their goals are measured in years not centuries.”

“But why fish for reasons.” Legolas contemplates. “We do not decide who we lose our heart to, be it in the fashion of Beren and Lúthien or in great friendship like-” 

He breaks off abruptly. In great friendship like Túrambar and Cúthalion that’s how the saying goes, but it feels ill-fitted in his present company.

Yet the other elf seems to know what he had wanted to say, for he smiles with a melancholy curve of his lips.

“Our tale was not ultimately a happy one but I am glad our friendship is remembered, at least.”

They fall into silence.

“They can be rather silly, though.” Beleg suddenly remarks, and Legolas startles at the sudden change of tone before he catches himself and snorts.

“Oh yes, I remember.”

“Always rather dramatic for a start.”

“Please, you don’t have to tell me. The amount of times I have had to search the darkest corners of an appointed meeting place for a shadowy figure, you would have thought I was playing hide-and-seek with him like a child!”

“And all the names! Collecting epessës like berries!”

“And Eru forbid you use the wrong name once!”

“And really they don’t wash often enough! Streams are there to be used, I would tell him! Only because we share the forest with the animals does not mean we have to smell like them!”

“Exactly! But no, it is too cold, he has only washed two days ago and there is no time to waste on such frivolities, his clothes are dirty anyway and he does not have a second tunic and have I mentioned it is too cold?” chimes in Legolas, remembering all the silly arguments that had turned into a friendly bickering, that had warmed them more than their fire during the long days in the forest.

“Truly a delicate species.” Beleg adds in a mock grave voice and it only takes a brief look between the two elves before they burst into laughter.

“He was a good man.” Legolas says, once he has caught his breath again, and makes to wipe away a few stray tears in which mirth and grief have mingled, from his cheeks.

“Yes, he was.”agrees Beleg with bright eyes and Legolas does not ask who he is talking about.

“We shall see them again. Someday. I believe that.” And only as he speaks this, he realises it is true. In Middle Earth death had been final, a sundering even for the elves for which the Blessed Realm had been a distant tale and their fate a mystery in the hands of unseen powers. 

But here in Aman, where the Valar themselves walk among them, the edge of this world seems so much closer and sometimes Legolas feels as if he can almost see behind it.

They sit like this for a while, on the tree stump they had collapsed on in laughter earlier, before Beleg finally shakes himself out of his thoughts and jumps to his feet.

“Now, earlier I thought I might show you a little trick I invented, if you’d like. A slight modification in the way you hold your drawing arm that will give your arrow a greater momentum, while also not compromising the pace of your draw. I found this quite useful especially when-“

Legolas follows Beleg’s movements and explanations with rapt attention and only as he holds his arrow drawn on the string, his arm in a slightly adjusted position, his mind turns back to his earlier words.

‘I cannot wait to tell you of this, Estel’, he thinks and smiles, ‘after all, what could be called impossible when the Legends themselves walk among us.’

The arrow flies.

[aminiatureworld]

umm hiya, this is my first request and i thought i'd give it a go. can i get a oneshot where Legolas and Aragorn are leisurely spending their time in the gardens of Rivendell and Legolas' head is in Aragorn's lap and Aragorn is like playing with his hair and braiding flowers into it and carding his hand through it? Strictly platonic please. Thankyou!! Love your previous works!!

Thank you for your kind words and your request! I felt so bad about how long this one took to write. I really don’t have much to say about this one except I hope you all enjoy and sorry it came out bizarrely melancholic at points. Once again thank you for your support, it’s a great motivator. May you continue to enjoy my works and may this short fic be up to snuff!

Ao3 link in reblog

           Peacetime, something that Aragorn wasn’t really sure he’d ever experience. And yet, how kind fate had been, to himself, to those he loved, his family, his band of brothers. Spring had come, the end of Sauron’s reign, though not far enough for all scars to heal, was well entrenched in the past, and there was left nothing in the world but a sense of great happiness. Well, perhaps not entirely, but that’s how Aragorn imagined it on that fine day, resting under a great big oak tree, one such brother lounging in his lap.

           “Really Legolas, you’ve become slovenly over the course of a winter. Whatever happened to the elf that could take down orcs and was never resting, always ready to move forward.”

           “He became drunk on peace and died a perfectly contented slob.” Legolas replied, smirking. “And you, dear friend, you’ve become quite the domestic. Just what are you doing to my hair?”

           “Practicing.” Aragorn said, a bit absentmindedly. “I always did wonder how you elves managed such elaborate styles. Besides,” he combed through a strand of the elf’s hair which would soon be covered in daisies, “I’d much rather wield a comb than a sword, don’t you agree.”

           “I do.” The elf smiled softly. “We all ought to have been destined for this from the start, a pity that wasn’t meant to be. A pity too those who fell for these precious moments.” Taking a dandelion amidst Aragorn’s stash, Legolas began to spin the flower absentmindedly, and for a moment Aragorn was carried away with the mood, landing himself in an odd mix of calm and melancholy. He too missed the gruff man who’d been the final pillar of the Fellowship.

           “Boromir would’ve had little use for flowers I think. Though I dearly wish he’d been allowed to try for a bit of peace. He deserved it as much as the rest of us.”

           “Agreed.” Legolas nodded, mussing his new braids, something which had Aragorn giving a huff of feigned exasperation, though of course Legolas new there was nothing behind the action. “Boromir was a man of great honor in the end, he would’ve enjoyed a chance to show that honor off, perhaps he would now be a great hero of legend, saving drunkards from a particularly dangerous river.”

           “I think that description of him would quite offend.” Aragorn laughed softly, and Legolas joined in that laughter. For a moment there was no more talking, just the methodical pulling of hairs strands and plucking of petals. The day was a glorious soft sort of one, almost as if nature had blessed Rivendell with an eternal sort of peace that reflected the mood of those who inhabited it. Such weather was surely of great relief to the elves inside its abode, for after the loss of power from those three rings which had been keeping the place so fine, it was certainly of great comfort to know the sun wouldn’t suddenly fall form the sky.

           “When do you head off to become king?” Legolas’ voice broke Aragorn out of his pensiveness, and he focused once more on the head in his lap.

           “Summertime. I’d like to have a last season of peace. And you with your plans, where will you go now?”

           “I’m not sure. West in all likelihood, but not for a long while. I want to watch your kingdom grow, want to stay by those surviving members of the Fellowship as long as I might. Would it be too great a burden for you to have an old elf slinking around the palace halls.”

           “Certainly not!” Aragorn chuckled. “I’d rather be happy for that old elf, perhaps he’d be able to give me some advice so I don’t immediately fail.”

           “You won’t.” Legolas’ face was all seriousness and care. “You’ll be a great king Aragorn. Never forget or doubt such a thing. And your greatness will come from naught but yourself. You must remember, as spring has brought happiness and peace here, so have you brought both those things to Middle Earth. You and the rest of the Fellowship, we’re bound together by experience and sentiment. So as long as I’m here to lurk in the halls of your palace, so too shall I be here to remind you of that very thing.”

           Aragorn said nothing, too moved for words; he merely pressed Legolas’ hand gratefully. Truly there was no better place to be in peacetime, no better friend and comrade to share it with. Aragorn hadn’t expected peace, hadn’t expected his life to have any sort of fulfillment. And yet, when it had presented itself to him, Aragorn had never been more grateful for such a thing. It was something he’d be sure to cherish, until the end of his days.

[ellaofoakhill]

My Thoughts on Boxes

Something has kinda been bugging me the last little while, that I like to think a lot of people can relate to. We live in a society that, generally speaking, likes putting things into boxes; we like analyzing and sorting and organizing. And there’s nothing really wrong with that in and of itself--frankly, I could stand to do a lot more of it in the more practical aspects of my life--but such a system only really works with things that easily fit into discreet categories, and the things that aren’t or can’t be easily sorted are either forced into a box where they don’t fit, or left adrift without any real place to be.

In particular, I’m talking about fiction. You have numerous genres that multiply by the day, and the age categories that stories within those genres are deemed suitable for. And don’t get me wrong, there are lots of practical reasons for those categories; they make advertising and the organization of bookstores and libraries dramatically easier, and for most stories, this system works great, with each finding the audience most likely to derive benefit from reading it.

But--again, solely my opinion here--this may have produced stories that are a lot flatter than stories written in previous eras (which had their own problems, I will NOT get into that today). By flat, I don’t mean boring, or a failure of the story. I mean that the story feels like it was changed to fit into the category it most closely matched. In the most egregious examples, I feel like things were either added to a story that did nothing for it besides make it fit its box better, or taken out that were either integral to the story or added a depth and breadth to it that improved the work overall, even if that made it harder to sort.

This makes me think of the Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch quote, “Murder your darlings”, but completely opposite to what he was getting at. The general interpretation is “Even if you like a given piece of writing/painting/sculpture/etc., if it does more bad than good for your work, you need to remove it for the sake of the art.” What I feel is happening is “You need to change your story so it fits the target demographic, no matter what it looks like at the end.” The former serves the story and its spirit; the latter sacrifices the story for... I don’t know, ease of advertising, perhaps? Certainly financial gain is involved there.

So my first argument against this jaded, greedy way of thinking runs thus. Look at the stories that are now considered classics of Western literature: look at Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice; look at White Fang and Call of the Wild; look at Dracula and Frankenstein; look at The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia (no, I couldn’t resist throwing in two classic fantasy titles, and no, I won’t apologize for it). If you haven’t read these stories, you probably should. Yes, they have problems that mark them as products of their time, but every last one of them has one thing in common: none of them were written with a box in mind. We’ve thought of lotr as a fantasy staple for so long that we’ve forgotten that, prior to its popularity, fantasy as a genre wasn’t really a thing. There were fairy-tales, yes, and stories with fantastical elements, but a genre of story with precise conventions? Not really.

Let’s zoom in on Tolkien’s work, for a moment. Look at his world and its origins, and it draws heavy inspiration from Old English and Scandinavian myths and legends. Look at his characters, in particular his four hobbits, and he drew from his love of the English countryside, his respect for the common working man (Sam, the gardener, literally carries Frodo, the wellbred young gentleman, on his shoulders in the final leg of their gruelling journey to the Cracks of Doom), and his horrific experiences in the First World War. Hilariously enough, a big part of the reason he wrote the stories was as a self-justification for his indulgence in and lifelong love affair with language invention (look at the huge appendices at the back of The Return of the King and tell me I’m lying!). Read his work and any and all interviews with him, and a “genre box” seems clearly to have never crossed his mind.

Putting aside the genre box for a moment, let’s talk age categories. The Hobbit was a story he invented for his children, and it does show. Look at the Lord of the Rings, and it is clearly at a higher level of reading comprehension, and written for a more mature audience; there’s less silliness, though he keeps the wonder at this wild, magical world. But where to put it? The hobbits run a spectrum from basically teenagers (Pippin) to almost middle age (Frodo is in his fifties when he embarks on his journey to Rivendell), yet they’re clearly his protagonists, though we also see some narration revolving around Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, all of whom are adults, though the latter two are somewhat younger for their respective races, whereas Aragorn is in his eighties (this being offset somewhat by the fact that he lives to over two hundred, but I digress...). We’re told today (falsely; VERY falsely) that the main character(s) should match the age of their target audience. Where does lotr fit, then, in terms of age category?

The answer you’re looking for is: not really very well anywhere; at least, not according to modern convention. As for my personal experience, I could and did read both The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion at age thirteen. I consider myself a fairly intelligent young man, but I was varying degrees of lost when I read those. When I re-read them as an adult I was fine, but that isn’t to imply that teens shouldn’t be reading lotr, far from it. There’s nothing in them content-wise one wouldn’t reasonably expect a teenager to handle, and there’s a lot of good, powerful story and commentary in there that’s relevant to this day.

My point is, the age category doesn’t really matter. If I may shamelessly plug my own work for a moment, when I was first writing tftem, and even as I’m editing and publishing it now, I wondered and still wonder about this age category business. There is nothing in these stories I’d consider inappropriate for kids, and anyone above the age of about 8, with perhaps a slight stretch to their vocabulary, could comfortably read every story beginning to end. Further complicating matters, my beta readers ranged from 8 to almost 80, and most of the spectrum in between. They all liked it; whether they liked it for the same reasons is moot.

Which leads me into my second argument against boxing and categorizing stories. The boxes aren’t very reliable. If I may change media for a moment, cultural convention says, as an adult, there is only a narrow sleazy strip of cartoon entertainment I should be watching and enjoying. That tiny slice of the cartoon pie is the only slice I avoid like the plague. Yes, there are stories that don’t appeal to me because they’re too simplistic, or are problematic in ways that I find repellent, or just aren’t executed very well, but aside from things aimed at toddlers and the aforementioned “adult” cartoons, any cartoon is fair game. Give me an interesting concept, or a fascinating character, or hell just give me a good laugh or line of dialogue or beautiful fight scene, and I’ll give it a try.

My point is (yes I had one, and no, believe it or not I didn’t forget it), don’t write or draw or create with a box in mind. You will murder the spirit of your darlings. The box does not exist to define what you, the writer, are allowed to do, or what you should do. At best, the box exists in hindsight, once the work is done, to tell your prospective audience whether your story was written for them. And even then, lots of fantastic stories don’t sit well in boxes. Some of them actively rip the boxes to pieces. Lotr is a story that transcends boxes, and as a result has many layers and rabbit-holes and nuances that you can pick up when you’re ready to appreciate them, however old you are. In many ways, it’s ageless.

I didn’t write tftem to emulate Tolkien, nor even as an homage to him, or C.S. Lewis, or anyone else. But I did want to write a similarly ageless story, a story that could be read and appreciated a hundred years from now, by an audience of eight-year-olds or octogenarians. Why did we ever start moving away from stories like this? They were the foundation of stories for as long as stories have existed on Earth. People are still reading and marvelling at The Epic of Bloody Gilgamesh!

Tl;dr: don’t try to force your stories into boxes; they suffocate. Write what you enjoy writing; chances are it’ll live longer.

[thealmightyemprex]

10 Guilty Pleasures

Guily Pleasure is a term I have difficulty with  ,cause if I like something I dont feel guilt .So what I define as a guilty pleasure is a movie that you  know isnt the best but you love anyway   

Dune 

This is my ultimate guilty pleasure.This film is weird, hard to follow ,and really hammy .....But it has a killer cast ,looks gorgeous , it feels epic and the parts that are weird are so weird you cant help but be transfixed by them 

Lion King II Simbas Pride

I love the Outlanders,the romance is sweet and Zira is among one of my favorite villains ever .Is it as good as the first one?No but I think it is a pretty good sequel 

Hercules

This films plot is a mess and I will argue Herc is kind of unlikeable  (Especially with the ending  )....But the Hades is great ,Meg is an underrated character and if “I wont say Im in love” is playing I WILL sing along ,it is my favorite Disney song 

Lord of the Rings 1978

So a lot of people dismiss this movie.....But I kind of dig it .Yes the animation is uneven ,yes putting 2 books into one 2 hour and 13 minute movie was probabbly not the smartest idea,and yes Sam sucks .....But there are moments in this film I like better then the Jackson film ,John Hurt is amazing as Aragorn and I just love the films vibe

Godzilla vs Megalon

This is a movie where it does everything wrong to the point it becomes right .While I dont like that this film forever marked kaiju movies as silly,I actually like the film itself.Plus Megalon and Gigan are best villain duo 

Diamonds are Forever 

So I had a few Bond films I considered,but I gnuinely feel Moonraker and Octopussy are good .....Diamonds on the other hand  is harder to defend :Most of the budget went straight to Connery thus the film looks cheap ,the film ignores a PERFECT cliffhanger set up by the previous film ,and while the previous film is one of the most serious,this is one of the silliest......But I dont think silly is necessarily bad .In my oppinion a Bond film suceeds as long as I am entertained ,and the film is entertaining to me .Tiffiny Case is one of my favorite Bond Girls,I adore Charles Greys Blofeld ,Mr Wint and Mr Kidd are fun henchmen ,I dunno I see the flaws but I still enjoy it 

Batman Returns

So this is a love it or hate it film.....I love it but I understand why people hate it .It is less of a Batman movie as it is just Burton movie,so it’s a bit of a mess .But visually it’s beautiful,Michelle Pfiffer gives one of the greatest performances in a comic book movie   ,while it isnt comic accurate at all (I feel the film shouldve swaped Penguin with Killer Croc )Danny Devito goes all in his performance as Penguin ,Christopher Walken is always a good thing and I just love the themes the film explores 

Legend 

This film is a visual masterpiece and Darkness is one of the great movie villains(And one of my first movie crushes admittedly ).....story is a little too simple and Tom Cruise is REALLY miscast 

Master of Disguise

....So me and my family qoute this film constantly .Like I get the hate but damn it I love this movie  ,from the turtle man to the farting Brent Spiner supervillain 

Popeye

This film is a mess but you can tell a lot of care went into it  and Robin Williams,Paul Smith,and Shelly Duval are perfectly cast 

 @cinefantastiquemitho​ @inevermetapenguinididntlike​

[namelists]

names inspired by: lord of the rings

this list includes names inspired by tolkien’s epic high-fantasy, and the various people, places and things that inhabit it

disclaimer:

please don’t take this too seriously. it’s just a list of words from lotr that i think would make cool names. if i changed any spellings, i put “from [language]” in the meaning. i had fun with this, and i hope you will too!

Adan: the Elves’ name for those Men who first crossed the Blue Mountains

Aduiel: from Sindarin (an Elvish language), meaning “eventide, twilight, star-opening”

Adun: Adûnaic (an extinct Mannish language) meaning “west”

Aelin: Elvish, meaning “lake, pool”

Aiglos: Sindarin for “icicle”

Ainura: from Quenya (an Elvish language), meaning “holy ones”, refers to the angelic spirits created by Ilúvatar

Alda: Quenya, meaning “tree”

Aldaloma: from Quenya, meaning “tree-shadow”

Alqua: Sindarin, meaning “swan”

Amarië: a Fair Elf woman of ancient Valinor

Ambarona: Quenya, meaning “world’s birth”

Amila: from the Elvish for “mother”

Amon: Sindarin, meaning “mountain, hill”

Anarya: Quenya, meaning "day of the sun”, the second day of the Elvish week

Anna: Sindarin, meaning “gift”

Anodo: from Sindarin, meaning “Ent”, the ancient race of tree guardians

Anárion: a human who lived in the Second Age

Aragorn: the king who returns in Return of the King

Arda: Quenya, meaning “region, realm”, became the term for the world

Áre - Quenya word for ‘Sunlight’.

Ari: from Adûnaic, meaning “royal”

Arnu: Adûnaic, meaning “king”

Arwen: half-elven daughter of Elrond and Celebrían, and wife of Aragorn

Avallone: the name of a city on the eastern coast of the Elven island realm

Avari: Quenya, meaning “unwilling”

Balin: Dwarf companion of Thorin Oakenshield in The Hobbit

Barliman: the owner of The Prancing Pony Inn in Bree

Beleriand: a vast region located in north-western Middle-earth during the First Age

Benadar: another name for the enigmatic Tom Bombadil, a nature spirit who lived in the depths of the Old Forest Beren: a hero whose romance with the Elf Lúthien was one of the great stories of the Elder Days

Bilbo: the hobbit from The Hobbit who discovered the One Ring

Boromir: warrior of Gondor and member of the Company of the Ring

Bowman: Bard the Bowman was a Man of Esgaroth who slew Smaug the dragon

Brethil: Elvish, meaning “silver birch”

Calaquendi: the Elves of the Light

Calen: Sindarin, meaning “green”

Calma: Quenya, meaning ‘lamp”

Coirë: Elvish, meaning “stirring”, the last of the six Elven Seasons

Corana: from Quenya, meaning “sun-round” (aka, a year)

Cormallen: Sindarin, meaning “ring bearers”

Cuivie: Elvish, meaning “awaking”

Círdan: Elf leader. Shipwright and bearer of a Ring of Power.

Dae: Elvish, meaning “shadow”

Dagor: Sindarin, meaning 'battle’

Denethor: the name of at least three rulers

Dina: Elvish, meaning “be silent”

Drego: Sindarin, meaning “flee”

Drúedain: a strange race of wild Men that lived in the Drúadan Forest

Duin: Elvish, meaning “long river”

Echor: Elvish, meaning 'encircling mountains’

Edhel: Sindarin, meaning “elf”

Edhellen: Sindarin, meaning “of the Elves”

Elbereth: the Vala Varda, goddess of light

Eldaliéva: Quenya, meaning “elven spirituality”

Eldar: Quenya, meaning “people of the stars”, the Elves’ name for themselves

Eldarin - Quenya word for the languages spoken by the Elves

Elear: Sindarin, meaning “visionary”

Eleni: Quenya, meaning “star”

Elenya: Sindarin, “day of the stars”, the first day of the elvish week

Elessar: another name for Aragorn II

Elrond: powerful leader of the elves, and ruler of Rivendell

Emyn: Sindarin, meaning “hills”

Endari: the middle of the year in the Elvish calendar

Endóre: Quenya word for 'Middle-earth’

Éomer: the eighteenth King of Rohan, and first of the Third Line of their kings

Éowyn: female member of the royal house of Rohan who kills the Witch King of Angmar

Eriador: a region of Middle-earth located between the Blue Mountains and the Misty Mountains

Eryn: Sindarin, meaning “forest, wood”

Esse: Quenya, meaning “name”

Estel: Sindarin, meaning “hope”

Estellio: Sindarin, meaning “trust”

Ethuil: the first season of the Elvish year, equivalent to spring

Eärendil: First Age half-elf who eventually became a legendary figure. He and his wife Elwing are key to the victory of good in the Silmarillion.

Falas: Elvish, meaning “shore, line of surf”

Faramir: the Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien

Faroth: Elvish, meaning “hunt, pursue”

Finwë: First king of the Noldor

Firith: Sindarin, meaning “fading”, the fourth season of the Elvish year

Formen: Quenya, meaning “north”

Frodo: the nephew of Bilbo Baggins who bore the One Ring to its destruction in Mount Doom

Fëa: Elvish, meaning “spirit”

Fëanor: one of the Elves that first departed from Valinor

Galad: Elvish, meaning “light”

Galadriel: Queen of the Elves

Gandalf: ancient wizard badass. a member of the Fellowship of the Ring

Gildor: Elf of Rivendell in the Third Age

Gilthoniel: Varda, the Vala responsible for the outlining of the stars

Gimli: Dwarf and member of the Fellowship of the Ring

Gondolin: a hidden city of the Elves

Gríma: an ally of Saruman who gave false advice to the King of Rohan

Haleth:  Haleth was the daughter of Haldad, leader of the Haladin

Húrin: a hero of Men during the First Age

Iarwain:  another name for the enigmatic Tom Bombadil, a nature spirit who lived in the depths of the Old Forest

Ilúvatar: the supreme deity of Arda

Incánus: another name for the badass wizard demigod Gandalf

Indis: a female Vanyar Elf of Valinor

Istari: five Maiar spirits sent to Middle-earth as human forms to aid the Free Peoples against the threat of Sauron

Kaliondi:  the Elves of Darkness

Khôr: Adûnaic, meaning “lord”

Laira: from Quenya, meaning “summer”

Lalaith: an Edain child, named Urwen at birth, but renamed after the stream running by her house

Legolas: beautiful elf warrior, member of the Fellowship of the Ring

Lindon: an important Elvish realm, known for its harbors and Elven Ships that would sail for the West.

Luin: Sindarin, meaning “blue”

Lórien: a magic forest and Elven realm into which evil could not enter without difficulty

Lúthien: An ancient elf, predating the First Age

Maedhros: one of the princes of the Ñoldor, the eldest of the seven Sons of Fëanor

Maia: near-primordial spirits that descended into Arda to help the Valar first shape the World

Melkor: the original evil being in Tolkien’s legendarium, succeeded by Sauron

Mellon: Elvish, meaning “friend”

Meriadoc: a hobbit and companion of Frodo Baggins, and member of the Company of the Ring

Merry: Meriadoc’s nickname

Minas: Elvish, meaning “tower”

Minelle: from Adûnaic, meaning “sky”

Mithrin: Sindarin, meaning “grey”

Mordor: the Land of Shadow, a dark volcanic plain that Sauron used as his military base

Moria: an underground kingdom beneath the Misty Mountains

Moriquendi: the Elves of Darkness

Morwen: Wife of Húrin. one of very few female characters in this series

Muindor: Sindarin, meaning “brother”

Muinthel: Sindarin, meaning “sister”

Namárië: Quenya, meaning “farewell”

Narya: one of the three Elvish Rings of Power, described as having the power to inspire others to resist tyranny, domination and despair

Navaer: Sindarin, meaning “farewell”

Nelya: the largest of the three houses of the Elves

Nenya: one of the three Elvish Rings of Power, wielded by Galadriel, normally invisible

Nikerym: Elvish, meaning “captain”

Nilu: Adûnaic, meaning “moon”

Nimir: Adûnaic, meaning “elf”

Nimrais: Sindarin, meaning “white peaks”

Nin: Elvish, meaning “my” (example: ‘mellon nin’ means ‘my friend’)

Olórin: Gandalf’s original name

Orod: Sindarin, meaning “mountain”

Palantíri: Quenyan, meaning “far-seeing”

Parma: Quenya, meaning “book”

Peredhel: Sindarin, meaning “half elvish”

Peregrin: a hobbit companion of Frodo Baggins, and a member of the Fellowship of the Ring

Pharaz: Adûnaic, meaning “gold”

Phelle: from Adûnaic, meaning “daughter”

Pippin: Peregrin’s nickname

Quelre: Sindarin, meaning “good day”

Quenya: one of the Elvish languages, along with Sindarin

Rivendell: a peaceful, sheltered Elven town, located at the edge of a narrow gorge of the river Bruinen

Rohan: a great kingdom of Men, located in the great vale between the Misty Mountains to the north and the White Mountains to the south

Samwise: loyal companion of Frodo Baggins who accompanies him to Mordor

Sarati: an alphabet and writing system invented in Valinor by Rúmil of Tirion

Saruman: A wizard. Once a leader for good, he formed his own empire as a rival of Sauron and was defeated at the Battle of the Hornburg.

Sauron: The primary antagonist of The Lord of the Rings. He crafted the One Ring, and was destroyed upon its destruction at the end of the The Return of the King.

Shire: the homeland of the majority of the Hobbits in Middle-earth, located in the northern region of Eriador

Silma: from Quenya, meaning “starlight”

Silvan: the name given to the woodland Elves

Sindarin: one of the Elvish languages, along with Quenya

Strider: one of Aragorn’s nicknames

Taliska: the language of the Bëorian and Hadorian Houses of the Atanatári

Tauriel: Elvish, meaning “daughter of the forest”

Tavrobel: a town in the northwestern part of the island of Tol Eressëa

Teleri: the third of the Elf clans who came to Aman

Thalia: from Elvish, meaning “bravery”

Thalin: Elvish, meaning “dauntless���

Thorin: Dwarf that led the company of dwarves that retook Erebor from the dragon

Théoden: King of Rohan

Tuilë: Quenya, meaning “spring”

Túrin: A First Age man who later became the subject of legends

Undómiel: another name for Arwen

Ûrî: Adûnaic, meaning “sun”

Urulóki: Quenya, meaning “hot, heat”, also used as a name for Fire-Drakes

Vala: Elvish, meaning “mighty”

Valar: the Powers of Arda who shaped and rule the world.

Valdra: Elvish, meaning “inferno”

Valinor: Quenya, meaning “land of the Valar”

Vanya: one of the Fair Elves, or Light Elves

Vilya: one of the three Elvish Rings of Power, may have provided the ability to heal and to preserve

Zadna: Adûnaic, meaning “house”

Zimra: Adûnaic, meaning “jewel”

Zîra: from Adûnaic, meaning “friend”

Zôr: Adûnaic, meaning “flame”

[fuckallthegood0nesweretaken]

Things I write for!

Alright! So here is the list of things I write for. Keep in mind that I will write smut and sexual themes, but If I don’t think it fits or if there is something that makes me uncomfortable, I won’t write it. I will write AU’s, romantic and platonic. I do not write characterxcharacter or any OC’s. I will write for female, male and nb readers, just let me know in your request.

I have also added a list of AU’s and tropes I like to write but if you have one in mind that isn’t on here, don’t be afraid to include it! The characters in bold are ones that I especially love to write for. 

ANIME: 

Assassination Classroom- I’ll write for Asuno, Okano, Maehara, Itona, Kaede, Karma, Hazama, Mimura, Takebayashi, Justice, Kataoka, Nagisa, Hayami, Nakamura, Terasuka. Sugaya, Okajima, Yoshida, Muramatsu, Sugino, Kanzaki, Isogai, Fuwa, Kurro-Sensei, Irina, and Karasuma. Romantic, platonic, student/teacher/assassin reader is fine.

Attack on Titan- I’ll write for Armin, Eren, Hanji, Jean, Levi, Marco, and Mikasa. I don’t mind spoilers, so anything goes.

Fairy Tail- I’ll write for Cana, Elfman, Erza, Gajeel, Gray, Jellal, Juvia, Laxus, Loke/Leo, Levy, Lucy, Mirajane, Mystogan, Natsu, and Wendy(PLATONIC ONLY). I’ve read the entire manga so anything goes.

Free!- Just the main peeps; Makoto, Nagisa, Rei, Haru, Rin, and Souske. I haven’t watched any of it in a long time and I really don’t mind spoilers so anything goes.

Haikyuu!!- Everyone in Karasuno; everyone in Nekoma; Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kyotani from Aoba johsai; Bokuto, Akaashi from Fukurodani; Ushijima, Tendo from Shiratorizawa. I have not seen season three and four so no spoilers please! 

Hetalia- I’m not super into this anime anymore, but I’ll still write for it. I’ll write for anyone and I’ve seen everything so anything goes.

K-Project/K- I’ll write for anyone. I’ve also seen the whole thing so anything goes.

Kuroko no Basket- I will only write for the generation of Miracles. I haven’t seen anything past season one, but I don’t mind spoilers so anything goes.

Log Horizon- I will write for anyone. I have only seen season one so no spoilers please!

Magi- I will write for Alibaba, Morgiana, and Sinbad. I don’t mind spoilers, so anything goes.

My Hero Academia- I will write for Bakugou, Hagukure, Iida, Jiro, Kaminari, Kirishima, Midoriya, Mina, Momo, Ojiro, Sato, Sero, Shoji, Todoroki, Tokoyami, Tsuyu, Uraraka; Kendo, Monoma, Tetsutetsu; Shinso; Mirio, Nejire, Tamaki; All Might/Small Might, Eraserhead, Fat Gum, Hawks, Kamui Woods, Present Mic; Dabi, Shiguraki, Toga. I haven’t read anything past Hawks being introduced, so no spoilers past that point in the manga. Other than that, anything goes.

Naruto- I’ll write for Asuma, Choji, Deidara, Gaara, Hidan, Hinata, Itachi, Jiraiya, Kakashi, Kakuzu, Kankuro, Kiba, Kisame, Kurenai, Lee, Minato, Naruto, Neji, Obito/Tobi, Sakura, Sasori, Sasuke, Shikamaru, Shino, Temari, Tenten, Tsunade, Zabuza. . I haven’t seen/read all of it but don’t mind spoilers so anything goes.

Sailor Moon- I’ll write for Sailor’s Moon, Mercury, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, Tuxedo Mask and their normal counterparts.. I’ve seen all of it, but a long time ago. I don’t mind spoilers so anything goes.

Seven Deadly Sins- I’ll write for Ban, Diane, Escanor, King/Harlequin, Meliodas, Merlin; Arthur, Elizabeth, Gilthunder, Howzer. . I’ve seen what they have of the anime on Netflix and the movie. No spoilers from the manga, but everything goes other than that.

BOOKS:

Harry Potter- I will write for Cedric, Dean, Draco, Fred, George, Ginny, Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Ron, Seamus; James, Lily, Remus, Sirius; Newt, Queenie.  I’ve read and seen everything so anything goes.

Lord of the Rings- I’ll write for Aragorn, Boromir, Faramir, Frodo, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, Sam. I’ve read the books and seen the movies so anything goes.

Narnia- I’ll write for Caspian, Edmund, Eustace, Lucy, Peter, Susan. I’ve read the books and seen the movies so anything goes.

Percy Jackson- I’ll write for Annabeth, Bianca, Clarisse, Leo, Luke, Nico, Percy, Piper, Thalia; Frank, Hazel, Jason, Reyna. I’ve read all the books up to Magnus Chase. I don’t mind spoilers and will write for anyone so anything goes. 

The Hobbit- I’ll write for Bard, Bilbo, Bofur, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Legolas, Tauriel, Thorin. I’ve read the books and seen the movies so anything goes.

K-POP:

BTS- Hoseok/J-Hope, Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon/RM, Seokjin/Jin, Taehyung/V, Yoongi/Suga

KARD- Jiwoo, Taehyung/J-Seph, Matt/BM, Somin

MonstaX- Changkyun/I.M, Hyungwon, Jooheon, Kihyun, Minhyuk, Shownu, Wonho

GOT7- Bambam, Jackson, Jaebum, Jinyoung, Mark, Youngjae, Yugyeom

TWICE- Chaeyoung, Dahyun, Jeongyeon, Jihyo, Mina, Momo, Nayeon, Sana, Tzuyu

BlackPink- Chaeyoung/Rose, Jennie, Jisoo, Lisa

Mamamoo- Hwasa, Moonbyul, Solar, Wheein

MOVIES: 

Big Hero 6- I will write for Fred, Go-Go, Hiro, Honey Lemon, Tadashi, Wasabi

How to Train Your Dragon- I will write for Hiccup, Astrid, and Eret.

Hunger Games- I will write for Katniss, Gale, Peeta, Joanna, and Finnick.

Jumanji- I have seen both 1&2. I am doing a rewrite of the first movie (and the second later on) but will write for any of the characters.

The Meg- I will write for Jax, Jack Morris, DJ, and Jonas Taylor. I’ve seen the movie so anything goes.

Pirates of the Caribbean- I will write for Jack, Elizabeth, James, and Will. I’ve seen everything so anything goes.

The Purge- I’ve seen all of the movies, but not the TV show. I’ll most likely use this as an AU but I do have a rewrite of Election Year and Anarchy in my WIP’s

Star Wars- I will write for Anakin, Ben Solo/Kylo Ren, Finn, Han Solo, Hux, Leia, Luke, Obi-Wan, Padme, Poe, Rey

DC:

Flash- I haven’t seen past season one, but I don’t mind spoilers so I’ll write for all the characters and anything goes.

Justice League- I’ll write for all of the heroes. I haven’t seen a lot of the cartoon shows, but I’ve seen the live action movies and Young Justice (Season 1&2 ONLY). Anything goes.

Suicide Squad- I will write for Boomer, Deadshot, Diablo, Harley Quinn, Katana

Young Justice- I will write for Aqualad/Kaldur, Artemis/Tigress, Beast Boy/Garfield, Blue Beetle/Jaime Reyes, Impulse/Bart Allen, Kid Flash/Wally, Miss Martian/Megan, Nightwing-Robin/Dick, Robin/Tim, Red Arrow/Roy Harper, Superboy/Connor, Wonder Girl/Cassie, Zatanna Zatara. I haven’t seen season three, so please no spoilers!! 

MARVEL:

AntMan- I will write for Hope, Luis, Scott 

Avengers- I will write for Bruce, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, Peter, Sam, Steve, Thor, Tony, Wanda

Black Panther- I will write for Erik, Everett Ross, M’Baku, Nakia, Okoye, Shuri, T’Challa

Dr. Strange- I will write for Steven Strange

Guardians- I will write for Gamora, Nebula, Peter, Yondu

X-Men- I will write for Bobby/Iceman, Hank(old and young), Jean(old and young), Kitty Pryde, Logan/Old Man Logan, Marie/Rogue, Ororo Munroe(old and young), Remy LeBeau, Scott(old and young), Victor Creed; Alex Summers, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Jubilee, Kurt, Peter Maximoff, Raven(young only)

TV SHOWS:

Avatar the Last Airbender- I’ll write for Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Suki, Zuko, Azula, Mei, and Ty Lee. I’ve seen everything so anything goes.

Dr. Who- I have seen everything up to the 12th Doctor. No spoilers for 12&13 please! Other than that, anything goes.

Game of Thrones- I will write for the Starks(Arya, Brandon, Jon, Robb, Sansa), Tormund, Sandor, the Lannisters(Jaime, Tyrion), Daenerys, Brienne, Gendry, Podrick, Bronn, Oberyn, Sam, Theon, and Yara. I have seen the entire series and anything goes.

Legend of Korra- I’ll write for Korra, Mako, Bolin, and Asami. I haven’t seen anything past season one, but I don’t mind spoilers. Anything goes.

The Mandalorian- I’ll write for Cara, Mando, and Paz. I’ve seen everything so anything goes. 

Sherlock- I will write for Sherlock, John, and Greg. I haven’t seen past season three episode two so no spoilers please! Other than that, anything goes.

Supernatural- I will write for Sam, Dean, Cas, and John. I haven’t seen past season 6 but don’t mind spoilers, so anything goes!

The Walking Dead- I’ll write for anybody. I’m only at the beginning of season nine, so anything past that please don’t spoil it!

Video Games:

Assassins Creed- I’ll write for Altair, Ezio, and Connor. I’ve played some of the games and don’t mind spoilers so anything goes.

Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild- I have beaten the game and will write for Link and Zelda. 

AU’S:

Adventurers

Assassin

Athlete

College

Coffee Shop

Mafia

Magic

Modern

Musician 

Pet Shop

Royalty

Soulmate- Colorblind, tattoo(name of soulmate/first words spoken, etc.), watch countdown, whatever you write on yourself ends up on them.

Spy

Supernatural

Superpower

Tattoo Artist

Tropes:

Human from our world dropped into their world and vice versa

Only one bed

Roommates 

[thatscarletflycatcher]

My assorted thoughts on LotR, both novels and PJ movies.

The Fellowship of the Ring (the novel) felt extraordinarily slow to me up to the council of Elrond. I was told that’s because it makes reference to stuff that happens in The Hobbit, which I haven’t read, but then I think novels should be good stand alones by themselves, so...

In that vein, the movie I liked the most was precisely The Fellowship of the Ring, I think it adapted the novel to screen very well, and it set up some variations in character arcs that, though I didn’t feel were needed, sounded interesting (eg: Aragorn, will go back to this later).

Once Tolkien was done with the worldbuilding, things started to get more dynamic and reach the sensation of serendipity by The Return of the King, which is amazing. The Return of the King is my favorite novel of the trilogy, but then it is clear its awesomeness draws from the hard work of the first two novels.

I also feel like this story is the kind of novel that is best enjoyed once you have finished it and had some time to let it sink in.

I found most characters to be relatable and even endearing. My favourites are Aragorn, Theoden, Eomer and Eowyn. As for the hobbits... I couldn’t grow to care much for Sam and Frodo, or Bilbo, and for Pippin and Merry only when they get separated and each has a story, one in Rohan and the other in Minas Tirith. However, I did enjoy the scourge of the Shire and how it shows how much the quest changed them all.

People talk a lot about the randomness of Tom Bombadil, but, can we stop for a minute and think of how Radagast makes that apparition in The Fellowship of the Ring to disappear into thin air later on?

Middle Earth is amazing, the mythos is amazing, the epic is amazing, the battles are amazing, the songs are amazing, the thing about the languages is just... no words. The romances on the other hand... well...

Arwen and Aragorn. I know it feels very romantic in a metaphoric way to see the beloved as an otherwordly creature filled with superhuman beauty and power and wisdom. On the other hand... You cannot just say that an elven lady fell for a mortal man as if it were par de course. As far as explanations go, Aragorn saw her and fell for her beauty (that side is understandable), and then Arwen fell for him because... Galadriel dressed him up years later in Loth-Lorien? What? Elves are painted as such superior creatures to men that it doesn’t make much sense. 

It does make sense, I accept, structure wise: Aragorn wins the girl’s hand, the races of men and elves are rejoined. But psychologically wise? I don’t get it.

Eowyn and Faramir. I love this couple in theory, the way in which their personal stories mirror each other in many ways, and how they differ (given that Theoden and Denethor are foils to each other). They get few scenes, but they get far more than Arwen and Aragorn, and have some of the most beautiful and emotional lines in those, and yet... it isn’t developed to its full potential. I know, the story is not about romance, I get it. However there’s something that doesn’t sit well with me:

Eowyn changes her mind/heart in... a split second. Yes, Tolkien says that maybe she finally understood her heart better, but I don’t see how “I’m in love with Faramir” can be wrongly read as “I love Aragorn and he doesn’t love me back, I wanna die”. Painted this way, Eowyn is either stupid or fickle. And Tolkien didn’t need to do that. He could have totally let her change her mind through the time she spent with Faramir, warming up to his kindness and loving treatment of her. So...

#Farawynforeva

Regarding the movies... They have become a classic for a reason. The settings are breathtaking, the casting is perfect except for some minor details (Blonde Faramir??? Also, but that’s personal, I cannot for the life of me warm to Elijah Woods Frodo. Gah), the score is extraordinary (I’m gonna say heresy and say that the high parts remind me for some reason of the one for Legends of the Fall, I’m sorry), the undertaking of adapting the source material to fit a trilogy of movies is something we are not likely to see again any time soon, and yet...

My impression is that, as the trilogy goes on, the focus shifts from character to action, and character arcs and plot points are left hanging. For example, Aragorn.

Movie!Aragorn is not as self assured as the character from the novels. PJ decided to give him doubts about reclaiming his right of kingship, and the angle is interesting: Aragorn knows himself man and thus at least somewhat fragile to the temptations of power, just as Faramir and Gandalf are; he fears to repeat Isildur’s mistakes (and given that in the end even Frodo succumbs to the power of the Ring, I don’t blame him). The first movie ends with Boromir’s death (which is at the beginning of The Two Towers in the novels), which moves Aragorn to accept his burden as king and swear to Boromir that he won’t let Gondor fall. 

At this point the audience gets prepared to see the further transformation of the avoidant ranger into the commited king, to see him become a wise judge, a compassionate leader and a healer of his people and then... it doesn’t happen. Aragorn keeps wavering well into The Return of the King, when he needs to be pushed to go face his duty because “Arwen is dying”. Seriously. Aragorn seeing some men are not strong enough to be at the battle of the Black Gate and sending them to Cair Andros where they could be useful? Nah. Aragorn exiling the soldier that committed treason to save Faramir, but at the same time sending him to serve him in Ithilien? Nah. Aragorn healing Faramir, Eowyn and Merry because “the hands of the king are the hands of a healer”? Ain’t no time for that, gotta have a full sequence of will-they-won’t-they with the dead army and Gollum making a plan to separate Sam and Frodo and also let’s just stuff Shelob and Cirith Ungol in The Return of the King too, because there’s so little material to translate on screen for that last movie. GRRRRR.

Gimli stops being a character after The Fellowship of the Ring and turns into Just Comic Relief™. The whole plot of Faramir falling  for the temptation of the Ring in The Two Towers is completely ignored in The Return of the King, as if they were two different characters. The Two Towers spends a lot of time focusing on Eowyn, to later on try to wrap up her story in two tiny scenes in Return of the King. And there are probably other things I cannot recall now that give the same impression. Arcs and plot points are set up and then deflate.

I’ll add more if I remember anything else.