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darkdevasofdestruction · 2 years ago

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Hello! Could I please get a LOTR matchup?

I’m bisexual (but might prefer a man), autistic and chronically ill. My favorite lotr race is the Humans, so if you don’t mind I might prefer one of them too. 👉👈 🥺

I’m a witch who loves tarot cards, and I’m also a Nintendo and Animation fan, a Dungeons & Dragons nerd, and general lover of Fantasy. I’m only 4’ 10” tall (146 cm), and I have really fluffy brown hair that looks like a mane, and glasses. My fashion switches between very masculine and very feminine regularly. I adore writing, and I like to draw and bake things. My favorite colors are pink and purple, though I’m also a huge fan of earth tones. I’m great at giving advice but have a rough time actually following it, and I can infodump for hours. I’ve been told I have calm big sister energy. I’m very fun and good at making jokes when I have the energy to. I tell great stories, am very compassionate to a weird degree (definitely the type of person to apologize to a table after bumping into it), and have been called cute a lot.

Thank so so much hun, have a great day and remember to drink some water!

I’ve gotcha, fam <3 And thanks a lot for the match up, I love Thranduil so much <3 Hope you like this!

I ship you with... Faramir!

My man here is just the absolute sweetest and would treat you so well, you would think you were some kind of Goddess or something.

He would love to do all kinds of domestic things with you, especially because he would be out fighting and protecting his people, so every second by your side is precious.

Your hair, especially, is so beautiful and soft that he would want to hold you between his legs and comb your hair, while listening to you telling him various stories or facts.

Not necessarily the best at conversation-making, but would listen to you speaking so attentively, and you can see the admiration and love sparkling in those eyes of his that look like the calm and cloudless Summer sky.

He loves the nature and likes staying in nature, as a way to achieve some kind of inner peace, especially when he’s out on a mission - So whenever he sees a pretty flower, he’s reminded of you.

If he knows he’s close to going home to you, he would make a flower crown for you, so he would personally put it on your head as soon as he lays his eyes upon you.

Also, a huge fan of braiding flowers into your hair.

You’re putting those flowers to shame.

Once the whole chaos with the One Ring settles down, and Aragorn becomes the King of Gondor, and he can finally live a nice and peaceful life with you, he would be so content to just listen to any kind of fantasy story that you tell him.

He would love, at some point, to regain his calm peace of mind and take up reading as a relaxing past-time, but until then, Faramir would love to stay out at the shade of a tree, laying down on the grass with his head on your lap and keep his eyes shut, while you play with his hair idly and read a book to him.

Could listen to any information you want to share, about any kind of topic, for ages.

Literally never gets tired of you voice and how fascinating everything you’re telling him, is.

Books truly have gone a long way with the variety of information they hold.

He also very much appreciates your humorous predisposition, and is prone to chuckling much easier from even the bad jokes you say - Maybe it’s you, maybe it’s the way you said it, but somehow, he did find it funny, and he laughed.

He’s also so fascinated how you can stay so sweet and kind, even in such a harsh world.

He literally say you apologising to a table by instinct, after bumping into it, and he had to take a moment to realise the extent to which your kindness extends.

Though he knows he cannot always be compassionate, since he is a war general, Faramir sees you as his better half, and will always strive to protect you and this innocence of yours that he finds so rarely in people.

He hopes that, if Boromir was alive, he would have been there, at his wedding, giving his blessings, especially because he remembers how happy he was for his little brother once he realised how happy you made him.

Though Boromir kept pushing him to ask you to marry him, he was still feeling too shy and unworthy of your greatness, but now he regrets not having him at his wedding.

He may not be as important as Aragorn is now, as the King of Men, but his men still find him as a very important leader - But you, as well.

They always have huge smiles on their faces whenever they see you coming over to bring them food, or even better, you baked something really good and came over to share with them.

You always managed to raise up their morale, and his, especially.

And don’t let me get started on how fascinated he is by your being a witch and knowing how to read tarot cards!

It feels to him as if you can always tell everything that is going to happen with such amazing accuracy.

Doing spreads to read the past, present and future seemed so outlandish, but it was far from fantasy, and the more truths you spoke, the more he wanted to see you doing your craft.

At some point, he even pics up some ideas about what some of the cards means ( mostly, the Major Arcana ), and would ask draw a random card and ask if he’s right with whatever prediction he came up with.

Also, he gets so emotional when you tell him that you associate a certain card with him, he’s so honoured!

Would even cheekily make you do a love tarot reading for the two of you, knowing very well that everything would be a bliss, and would rejoice watching you blush and get flustered by having to speak out all the beautiful things you see.

Faramir is very attentive to you, so he would notice immediately if your glasses are dirty, so he will clean them up for you, especially if you’re working... And you may or may not realise.

When he’s away, he takes one of your smaller books and tries to read it, hoping it would remind him of you and how excited you were to tell him all about it.

He finds you absolutely perfect and he loves you more than he loves anything in this world.

Faramir would undoubtly love nothing more than to have you happy and smiling for the rest of your days together, and he will make sure he does just that for you.

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urielthegolem · 5 years ago

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Merry woke up feeling rather groggy. It was hot in the apartment though it was relatively cool in front of the fan. Peony had woken him up several times in the night. He was never quite sure why. Perhaps she didn’t understand that he also needed to sleep and that he couldn’t play with her whenever she wanted. For now, though, Peony was resting on her scratching post-turned-bed. Merry looked at his phone and saw the time read 12:30. Not the best, not the worst, he thought. He had been trying to set his sleep schedule earlier for months. And the sad truth was going to bed at 2 am and waking up at 12:30 was earlier than usual. Pippin wasn’t helping in that department. He usually went to bed around 3, 4, or even 5 and would get up whenever. The late night labs certainly contributed to this but Pippin had always been a night owl so it had never bothered him. All in all, probably the one with the healthiest sleep schedule was Peony.

The Men of Minas Tirith (and of most of Middle Earth from what Merry gathered in his limited experience) would wake up at ungodly hours. Merry knew several men and women who boasted of waking up at 5 am. Still he had met a few others who woke up at the unbelievable hour of 3 am. What’s the point of waking up in the middle of the night, Merry thought, you might as well say they’re staying up later than the rest of us. But Merry felt a twinge of guilt for not being like the others. That was a wound that his mother often put salt in. The idea that everybody had their life together more than Merry. Everyone worked harder. Everyone was smarter and more efficient. Only Merry stood out as so particularly inferior. The hobbit shook his head: enough of these thoughts!

He got off the bed and rather regretted it. He felt awful. But he made his way into the living room. Pippin wasn’t on the couch so he didn’t have to be as careful about being quiet. Although it seemed that Pippin could sleep through an earthquake. Merry put some toast in the toaster and looked out the window. The sun was shining its light across the landscape beautifully. It came in at an angle and the reflections and shadows played in the yellow-green leaves. Beyond the tree, his tree, he could see the Fields of Pelennor. There were alternating patches of gold and deep green. Beyond that were the mountains of Mordor. Merry liked to imagine he was looking directly at the trail he and Pippin had climbed the previous week. The mountains now held a more special place in his heart than they already had.

Pop! Merry had a mini heart attack and turned back to his toast. He had originally thought of putting either honey or jam on it, but he realized he was hungrier than that. He set to making some scrambled eggs. “Well that’s unusual,” said a voice suddenly from behind him. Merry let out a yelp. “G-d, Pippin, please don’t sneak up on me like that.” Merry implored. “Oh, sorry,” Pippin said, “I didn’t think about your PTSD. I’ll try to do better next time.” “Thanks,” Merry breathed. “Anyway, what’s so unusual?” he demanded, straightening up. “Oh just that you’re actually cooking something,” Pippin answered. “Pippin, please, I don’t need this right now” “What’s wrong?” “I just...don’t appreciate being reminded I never cook. Like, I know ok” Pippin hadn’t realized he would strike such a raw nerve with his words. He felt bad about startling his friend as well. Merry turned back to his eggs and took them off the stove. “I’m sorry, Merry,” he said earnestly, “I shouldn’t have made fun of you for cooking. I won’t do it again. Can you forgive me?” Merry turned to his friend. “Thanks for apologizing, Pippin. I forgive you. But I just...I need some space right now,” he said, feeling a bit guilty. “Of course!” Pippin replied. Merry figured Pippin wanted to eat soon so he grabbed his toast and eggs and stepped outside onto the balcony.

Merry was mad at himself for being upset. But he was also trying to work on speaking up about things that bothered him and determined that this was just an uncomfortable step of the growing process. And why is everything startling you today, he asked himself exasperatedly. Having PTSD was a pain because he knew he shouldn’t be startled by a thing but he was. His body was on high alert, expecting danger at every turn. Even when as far as he knew he was alone in the house with his close friend and cat. Did I even have any right to criticize Pippin, he thought. After all, he was right, and I’m sure he just thought he was being playful. But he caught himself again: I’m allowed to have feelings even if those feelings inconvenience others. Or, at least, he was pretty sure. Maybe he had heard it somewhere.

Merry put the eggs on his toast and took a bite. He had come across this way of eating toast when he was on a trip to the southernmost point of Harad. This was long before Peony or Pippin were in his life. It was even before Jamie. He was fascinated with the culture of South Harad. He missed the great, spicy food and the kind people. He missed the bright colors everywhere--mostly in the clothes of the women there. At the time, Merry also dressed in those clothes. However, since he was the only hobbit around and one of the few most Haradrim had ever seen he didn’t exactly blend in as hoped. He came across eggs and toast on the grounds of a palace (more of a large house really) in a small but influential city just inland behind the mountains. The city had once been the home of one of the greatest fighters and leaders in all of South Harad’s history.

It had been awhile since Merry had thought much about his trip to Harad. He had spent about three months there years ago. He hoped to go back there again. As his real self. And maybe with a friend. Merry finished his breakfast and looked out again. He saw the banner of Gondor fluttering in the breeze on a lower wall. It had a white tree with stars and a crown surrounding it against a dark blue background. In the distance, thankfully not directly below him, he could hear shouts and the quiet whirr of cars as they drove past. Sounds that the city was very much alive and awake this afternoon. And he could hear that blasted ice cream truck again. How many times?? How many times must it circle the block, Merry lamented desperately. He had really had enough of this and determined to go back inside at least to put his plate away.

Merry turned around to see Peony standing at attention in front of the balcony door. He stealthily slid by her, not allowing her to escape, and put his plate away. Pippin was playing a video game in his room. He was sitting on the floor in front of his bed facing the door. He found video games were a good way to not think of much of anything and with his anxiety, that was a true blessing. “Dammit!” Merry heard him shout from the next room. Merry didn’t know the first thing about video games. His parents had never bought any for him and when he did occasionally play one, he felt dizzy and didn’t much see the point of them. But as a result he did feel like he was lacking a useful, fun coping strategy that all his friends and acquaintances his age used. And so he felt left out if it ever came up--though it was not something he’d ever bother anyone else with.

It was getting on towards 1:30 and Merry realized he needed to be at Boromir’s office by 2. The boy dashed into his room, got dressed, brushed his teeth, and made sure Peony had enough food and water for the day. Then he knocked on his friend’s door. “Yeah? Come in” Pippin called.

“I’m just heading out now to do some research for Boromir. I’ll see you tonight”

“Ok, have a good time!”

“Thanks, love you”

“Love you too”

Merry smiled, closed the door behind him, and made his way out the front door.

The University campus was at the highest point of the city. One could walk it, but it was far easier and faster to take the gondola. Merry went down the side street, turned onto the main thoroughfare and came to the gondola’s green line station. There was a decent sized line ahead of him, but the cable cars came so quickly and continuously he knew he wouldn’t be waiting long. This gondola line went from his neighborhood to the University. Because of the convenience, many graduate students and even a number of the younger professors lived in the area.

Boromir was in his office. He was very absorbed in reading and responding to his letters. He also needed to finish preparing for the classes he was teaching the next week. He had quite forgotten that Merry was coming to the office to help him this afternoon. And that evening he needed to go to the opening of his brother, Faramir’s, art exhibit and support him. He knew their father certainly wouldn’t show up, but it seemed really important to Faramir to have his family’s support. Boromir understood the feeling. Since their mother left they had continually sought to gain acceptance from their father who was typically too busy with matters of the State as he was the Steward of Gondor. Growing up as the Steward’s son had its own host of challenges. Boromir always felt like he was being watched and that his worth was being redetermined anew every day. As such, he had turned into a perfectionist and a workaholic. He took on too many projects and faculty responsibilities. He was the youngest ever chair of the Humanities Department--something his father Denethor was exceedingly proud of and boasted of whenever he got the chance. But if Boromir was really being honest, the pressure of being Chair on top of teaching three classes and the expectation to continue writing his own book was too much to handle.

Faramir on the other hand could never seem to live up to his father’s expectations. He had tried to study law for many years, but he found the work soul-crushing, and he had never enjoyed reading or writing to start with. No, Faramir’s love was with brush and canvas. And with many other supplies. He specialized in collages and his art had been displayed at institutions and art museums all across Gondor. But Denethor had very little patience or care for the arts (something evident in the city’s lack of arts funding) and so he had never approved of Faramir’s occupation.

A knock came at the door. Who on Middle Earth could that be? Better not be some wizard giving me a hard time. “It’s open,” Boromir called, sounding nonplussed. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late.” At the door stood Merry dressed in a white shirt with a yellow vest, brown pants, and a green cape. Boromir was relieved to see his pupil. “Ah Merry! Do come in, I’m so glad you’re here. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes, they gave me some medicine to help with the pain in the meantime while they try to figure out what’s wrong.”

Boromir gave him a concerned look. “Well I hope they figure it out soon”

“I’m supposed to meet with a doctor in two days so hopefully that will help”

“Good, good,” Boromir hesitated. “Are you sure you’re feeling up for work today?” “Yes, I’ll be alright I think,” said Merry, trying to sound reassuring. “Would you mind rewriting the responses to these letters? I’m afraid my poor handwriting won’t be good enough. I’ll look over them when you’re done but I’m sure they’ll be fine.” “Sure,” Merry responded. He always enjoyed getting to write with a quill pen. The hobbit took off his cloak and hung it by the door.

Merry found Boromir’s office to be peaceful and loved spending time there. There was a fireplace behind one of the desks, some large, definitely-not-hobbit-sized chairs, and another, larger desk that for whatever reason Boromir used less. There was a wide, slightly bumped out window across from the door. Merry left a cushion in Boromir’s office for sitting on the desk chair so he could reach everything--everything but the ground anyway. Really! There ought to be some hobbit-sized chairs at this school, Merry thought. He had grown used to Boromir’s sketchy handwriting and was more than comfortable transcribing it out in his more legible hand. Secretly, Merry was grateful that he wasn’t being asked to do something more cerebral as the pain had been a bit touch and go all day.

Boromir paced around the room a bit as he often did, muttering inaudibly to himself. Occasionally he would go back over to the larger desk and write something down with a pencil. After about an hour, Merry finished the letters. He took a brief break and then returned to see what else Boromir needed. The Man asked him to do some research on Westron scholars across Middle Earth. Merry had brought his own laptop and began to make a spreadsheet of all he could find. There were many more than he had imagined. Most in Gondor, Mordor, and Rohan but a few in places as far as Harlindon, the Misty Mountains, and Harad. Merry meticulously made sure to include scholars from more far afield regions as he wanted to make sure they were represented. As one of the few hobbits in the University, he understood feeling alone or like people like him were not appreciated. He hoped to find an (out) trans scholar but alas he was now alone in that too. After an hour or so Boromir left to go to a meeting. When he returned Merry was still hard at work on the spreadsheet. Finally around 6 o’ clock, it was time for Merry to be done for the day. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Merry asked. Boromir continued to be lost in thought. “Professor Boromir?” Merry tried again. “What? Oh look at that, it's already 6!” he exclaimed suddenly, “you know my brother’s art exhibit opening is now, would you like to come?” Merry was a fan of visual art. But he also remembered he needed to eat.

“I’d love to, but I haven’t eaten dinner yet”

“I believe there’s food there if you like but I understand completely if you need to go”

“Oh, actually that sounds alright then”

“Great!”

“I didn’t know your brother was an artist!” I didn’t know you had a brother at all, he thought. Merry donned his cloak and the two made their way down the outdoor corridor. The floor was of red brick and to their right was a green moss lawn. Smooth, white columns with swirled capitals flanked their right side, opposite the building’s outer wall.

#meriadoc brandybuck #boromir #faramir #pippin #peregrin took #grad school au #lord of the rings

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undignifiend · 5 years ago

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Trollhunters Fanfic AU idea: Heartstone Sun

A stupidly long ramble about themes I’m obsessed with. Warnings: mentions of people getting eaten, other horror elements, redemption speculation, and pontificating about hatred, dehumanizing propaganda, and the cycle of abuse (and an idea of how to break those three things). I’d love to write this if I can figure out how to do it justice, but that may take a while. Criticism is welcome; I can’t hone an idea to proper sharpness if I don’t see its dull spots.

What if the sun is actually a Heartstone - like The Great Gramma of all Heartstones (in this solar system, at least)? And was placed under an enchantment/curse by a prehistoric human coven that Had Enough because trolls outclassed humans in pretty much every arena, and people were getting eaten with impunity by extremely durable apex predators that laughed at their sticks and slings and fire? It's not like trolls really needed to eat humans - these mofos were powered by the sun (and could probably do crazy magic with all that excess power, to boot) - they just like how we taste.

Though perhaps humans also have a knack for passively absorbing Hearstone energies, and that's what they used to essentially poison the Heartstone against Trollkind? And that same passive absorption is why humans make good supplements for trolls who don't have a Heartstone to rely on, as shown in the comics? Since trolls couldn't gain Heartstone energy directly from the sun during the night, if they were injured and/or had a hankering, they'd have to eat creatures that still could. So maybe trolls tended to mostly eat people at night back then when they needed a quick boost because they couldn't get sunlight? And perhaps this contributed toward a more intense, visceral fear of the dark in humanity's evolution - like our common fear of the dark, but on steroids?

Gunmar's comment about "They try to make the night brighter. They fear the darkness," not only speaks to real human fears of the dark, but a mentality that was essentially beaten into Pleistocene-Era humans by impossibly strong and scary opponents (though I love the idea of some troll groups teaming up with humans and having various mutually-beneficial symbiotic shenanigans).

You could see all manner of behavioral, instinctive differences in these humans based on that. From a death-like, numbing paralysis intended to spare them the agony of their last moments, to an overwhelming itch to hide when it grows dark, to a need to sleep in groups for protection, etc... I imagine most beds in most cultures would be in hidden places within a house. Some cultures might even develop "false bedrooms" as traditional parts of their home to trick trolls or evil spirits that are more inclined to hunt with stealth.

This is partly inspired from a weird experience I had one night where I got this sudden, intense fear, and I've never experienced it since, and I still can't figure out what caused it. But some part of me felt a hostile presence in the woods by the house, and I knew it was far too powerful to fight, and I had the overwhelming urge to shut off all the lights, quiet everything that was making noise, and huddle in a closet until whatever it was passed. "Don't let it know you're here," kept playing in my head. I imagine being a human in this AU, especially in the Bad Old Days, would feel a lot like that.

After the Sun Curse (but before humanity regards trolls as myth), I imagine a common survival rule would be: Travel by day (when trolls can't, or at least have a harder time of it), and hide by night (so you don't run into them; if they find you, make them work for it, don't give yourself away).

Humans in this AU love to fancy themselves apex predators not simply as a power trip, but a denial of their true position in the food chain as prey. They can lie to themselves all they like, but their instincts remember and know better.

So to give humanity a fighting chance, this prehistoric coven developed a powerful spell to make the sun toxic to trolls, which would allow humans safety under the sun, which until then, had been a main source of power and sustenance for trollkind.

As an unforeseen catastrophe of apocalyptic proportions, much of trollkind's lore at the time was lost as they scrambled to deal with this development. Their cultures had to adapt, and new lore and methods of dealing with this catastrophe overtook lost histories (mostly verbal at the time). There was very little evidence left of how the sun was cursed, or that humans were behind it - the coven responsible did their utmost to destroy any sign or record of what they did, knowing that such information would rally trollkind against humankind. And even if trolls were weakened without their most sacred life source, they were still a dangerous enough threat that, if they could cooperate with each other, they'd surely wipe humanity out.

They almost succeeded in destroying all knowledge of it, but a certain tribe connected to a certain Heartstone found out, and their resulting fury at this act of desecration gave rise to Gunmar the Black.

This curse would be a deep source of anger and resentment at humanity for having stolen not only trollkind's ability to roam freely on their own world (which they were the dominant species on), but for poisoning a vital and sacred life-source. This is what Gunmar would be talking about when he talks about 'taking back the surface lands'. It's not just propaganda to him, it's his peoples' birthright, and it was stolen from them, and he emerged to set it right. This coven may have acted out of self-defense, but what they did was an unforgivable act of desecration. Gunmar and his Gumm-Gumms would still see it that way, but over time, as humanity loses their knowledge of trolls and turns their attentions toward each other, the rest of trollkind moves on and adapts and forgets their hatred, or their history of having once owned the world. The Gumm-Gumms are still angry about an ancient injustice, and the rest of trollkind, now believing themselves to have always lived underground, sees this 'take back the surface lands' talk as warmongering propaganda against a group that is seen as relatively ridiculous and tasty, but now off-limits depending on who follows the Pact.

While on that note, I imagine Gunmar would find the Pact outrageous and absurd. Humanity has no end to hold up in return, it's basically a heavy restriction on trolls who have already had so much taken from them. It's adding insult to injury, and that any troll would agree to it galls him to no end.

Before the curse, trolls ate fleshlings because we taste good and are satisfying sources of indirect Heartstone energy. Now, Gumm-Gumms also eat humans as an act of rebellion and punishment for what their ancestors did.

CHARACTER PROFILES:

JIM

I love Jim. But I think I'm going to handle him a bit differently in this AU than how he is in canon because I see an opportunity to say something important and relevant to a possible theme of this AU, and I'm not sure canon Jim would really be up for that.

I love the warm, nurturing, gentle side of Jim, and how he likes taking care of his friends. I love how he loves cooking for them, which is the quintessential nurturing act. I love how protective he is of his friends and his mom, and how even though he has made mistakes, he makes those mistakes with protective intentions. His heart's in the right place. This is the side of Jim who looks at Rule #2: Always Finish the Fight, and says "No," and spares Draal's life, and takes care of Chompsky instead of 'taking care of him', and risks precious time to go back for Nomura. This is the Jim I love, and the side of him I want to focus on in this AU.

And that side of him (it seems to me) clashes rather loudly with the other side of him that refuses to apply Rule #1 to Strickler in favor of rebellious mouthing-off, and treats the deaths of his enemies with sassy quips.

With regards to my attitude about that last part, I blame Faramir from Lord of the Rings. His brief monologue about 'the enemy' was formative for me. He fought to protect his people, and in doing so, he had to kill other people. And he didn’t hide from that fact. He had the strength and honesty to both do what he had to do, and to acknowledge that tragedy. He didn't try to diminish their deaths, and I cannot stress enough how important that is to me to see in a protagonist. So in this idea, Jim can be sassy in some cases, and he will kill if he believes he has to, but #2 is a last resort, and when it comes to that, he won't lie to himself or diminish what has happened.

Seeing someone as an obstacle or problem is a crucial step in making it easy to hurt or kill them, and it's one of the goals of particularly dangerous forms of propaganda: dehumanize the enemy. It's a perspective shift that makes fighting easier, but I believe it's one of the very worst lies we can ever tell ourselves or each other.

Acknowledging someone as a person, and not an obstacle or a problem, is (potentially) a powerful way to break the perception that you yourself are an obstacle or problem. If you want a chance to see someone’s relatability/"humanity", you first have to show yours. And they won’t always see it, and even if they do, they won’t always care – you might be hurt or killed anyway. But I think this re-framing is a crucial step in non-violent conflict resolution (in particularly intense cases). It’s risky as hell, so it’s not very popular, but when successful, it broadens perspectives and opens new paths in their minds. And I think that's a powerful and worthy theme; one that Jim could champion. A better way to Finish The Fight.

GUNMAR

In this AU, Gunmar has plans that stretch far beyond the Eternal Night (which, in this AU, would instead be a cure for the curse). From his perspective, he's trying to piece the world back together after several Apocalyptic-Grade Disasters. He's bitter and stressed, but he has stayed tenacious and ambitious despite millennia of warfare, failure, and being forgotten by the vast majority of the world while trapped in the Darklands. He's trying to lead his people out of a bad situation and restore their birthright, and he's annoyed and angry with the significant number of trolls who accept the current status quo when they could have so much more.

Because Gunmar emerged from a corrupted Heartstone and doesn't seem to have parents (perhaps no tribe/clan/colony? I love the extra-spooky supernatural vibe it grants him) I like the idea of him wanting his own tribe. He had a son whom he seemed to care for, and their regard for each other was the one and only thing in canon (in my mind) that elevated Gunmar. I'd like to capitalize on that in this AU. Gunmar was born tribeless, as a symbol of trollkind's general animosity toward humanity, but he obviously doesn't want to stay tribeless. He wants to establish his own line; he wants to create a future for his descendants to thrive in. His ultimate goal isn't so much about putting humans in their place as it is about giving his own people the prosperous future he thinks they deserve. To those who follow him, he's not their tyrant; he's their hero. His aggression is largely directed at humanity, but his goals are NOT human-centric after all.

Gunmar’s backstory (in canon) fascinates me. He was born from a Heartstone that had been transformed by the trollish population’s animosity toward humankind. I think this was supposed to reflect the classic Evil Corruption you see in a lot of fantasy, and leans on a kind of Victorian notion of "bad breeding" and the idea that because he emerged from evil conditions, he is evil by nature. But I think it’s more interesting to look at it as a wound, because that gives his anger a sharper sense of purpose that I think it otherwise lacks. Gunmar manifested from a rift between two populations, and has used the hatred that formed that wound to try and heal it – by taking the surface world and devouring the impudent humans who stole it. The method of devouring them didn’t simply develop because we taste good – it’s also a punishment, born of that same hatred, that says: “You thought you were better, but you are lesser. You wanted a vaunted place for yourself at great cost to us, but your true place is as nothing more than our food. This is what you deserve for trying to shut me and my kind out of our own world, and poisoning something sacred against us.” (referencing the curse on the Heartstone Sun, not the Killahead Banishment, which would come much later).

That may seem to him like a perfectly reasonable way to fix what he sees himself as (both literally and symbolically) born to fix. But even if all his dreams were to come true, that hatred would persist throughout the myriad abuses he would inflict upon humanity (if he’d bother to keep us around as livestock and/or slaves), and long outlast the last of the human population. It would linger, it would continue to fester, and it would be poised to be unleashed upon whatever other sufficiently threatening group crosses trollkind next. After all, that method ‘worked’ on humanity.

But you don’t quench hatred or fix abuse by indulging it. You fix it by learning (and accepting) the truth: no one is a mere obstacle, object, problem, or hated symbol. You did not deserve the abuses you suffered, but re-creating them and re-living them will not put you in control of them or absolve you in any way. (Though the temporary illusion of control may become addictive, it will remain fleeting and false). Abuse, if you let it define you, begets abuse. If Gunmar had achieved all his goals, sooner or later, he’d see his own reflection in a human born of the horrors he inflicted, and of the hatred humanity would have for him and his kind. This human would not see trollkind as anything other than a problem that they were born to solve, just as Gunmar sees humankind. But this would not surprise him at all, because that’s how Gunmar already thinks humans see trollkind. It’s easy to hate someone if you think they hate you. And it would not matter who would win that conflict, because the hatred and abuse would survive to be re-created and re-lived and inflicted on whoever the winner meets next. Nothing would be learned, and no one would heal.

I don’t know what would show Gunmar the truth, much less in a way that would matter to him. But in keeping with Jim's best tendencies in avoiding Rule #2, I think it's necessary for Jim to make the attempt in this AU. Whether or not this would result in Gunmar getting a redemption arc doesn't exactly matter - this is really about Jim's efforts to be the best guardian he can be for two interlinked worlds with a lot of bad blood between them, and I want to do those efforts justice. I don't currently know how, but I have some idea of where to start.

I think two key parts of non-violent conflict resolution are convincing the other party that 1) you care about the same thing they do, and 2) you either can make it easier to achieve, you see a better path to achieving it, or you may be able to improve the final outcome beyond what they originally thought or hoped was possible.

In this case, the goal for both sides is to heal that ancient wound between trollkind and humankind. It’s the plan that everybody disagrees about. Protagonists and antagonists (often, but not always) both ultimately want the same thing – they just disagree about what that’s supposed to look like, or how to achieve it.

Currently, I think that to truly heal, trolls and humans have to come to terms with each other. This is no small undertaking - it would change the world irrevocably - and might never be fully achieved, even after centuries of dedicated work on both sides. A healthy relationship (regardless of it’s nature) isn’t something you achieve and consider Done; it’s dynamic, it’s lived, it requires constant attention and respect, and the acknowledgment that it may change irrevocably as life throws its weird curve-balls. Most of all, it requires a dedicated effort to understand the other person. The surest way to kill a positive relationship is to allow oneself, during times of hardship, to slip into the mindset of seeing that person as an obstacle, problem, or symbol, rather than continue the effort of trying to understand them or why they’re acting difficult. And that’s just taking failing positive relationships into account. Consider all the hardship that comes from starting from a mindset of seeing people as obstacles or problems, and you could see hate-crimes between the populations. Now consider how many trolls and humans may interact with each other as they try to move forward together, and you can get some idea of how easily everything can fall apart, back into the same attitudes that led to the same wound that Gunmar manifested from.

And that’s not even touching on how trolls would have to watch their strength and their tempers around delicate little humans (even the ornery ones), and how humans would have to put a certain amount of trust, patience, and good faith in a group that was, in the past, known for eating them (and that still thinks they taste delicious). It will be easier for some than for others, but for those others, it may feel impossible.

I’m not saying it can’t be done. I believe it’s necessary and worthwhile. But I also believe it’s important to not downplay how difficult it would be. It would be stressful, it would come with times of crisis and doubt, and some might give up entirely, and it would be up to the rest to persevere despite the inevitable tragic incidents; to be brave, and not take such incidents as proof that peace is impossible. “Fear (if you don’t let it rule you) is but the precursor to valor.”

There would be hate-crimes (committed by both sides) between the groups. And there would be heroes (from both sides) rushing in to stop them. And there would also be vigils, gatherings of both humans and trolls, in honor of the victims who couldn’t be saved in time, and in solidarity, in honor of the peace they’re working for together. And I think, in that act of mourning and solidarity, therein lies their victory.

Love and grief are some of the most powerful, relatable (rather than ‘humanizing’ which is an embarrassingly ironic and limited word, especially in this context) emotions out there. And I think it’s that relatability that has the power to reveal people as more than obstacles or problems.

I doubt witnessing it would cause every Gumm-Gumm to reconsider their stance on humanity, much less Gunmar himself, but it could be a little step toward a better path; a seed of doubt – a check to keep them honest when they try to tell themselves tales of what humans and troll ‘traitors’ want, or deserve.

Another thing I imagine might challenge Gunmar’s perceptions has to do with the Decimaar blade. At first, I wasn’t sure what it’s supposed to symbolize in the show other than as an explanation for why anyone would follow someone so careless with their lives. It would also explain why no one assassinated him while he was weakened and starving in the Darklands. (Curiously, no one else seemed to be starving, and I’m not sure what to make of that. I think I missed something important.)

At first, I thought the Decimaar blade symbolized the ultimate hatred/abuse: it enslaves, it wipes out its victims' identities; it turns people into objects to be used by their master, and obstacles to be rid of by their enemies. There’s no loyalty involved, no sacrifice – nothing of meaning that is gained from willing service is preserved. It is simply the use of others – abuse made manifest. In that, I saw the Decimaar blade as an extension of Gunmar himself; a symptom of the conditions of his birth. The cruel irony here was that he had the power to turn his own people into the exact, flat, threatening (obstacles/problems) monsters humanity expected them to be. So from this, Gunmar wasn’t just born from trollkind’s hatred, but humanity’s, too. And just like with abuse un-dealt with, un-treated, he perpetuates it.

And then I learned that the Decimaar blade was won from Orlagk, so there goes that idea. Or at least the part of it being a part of Gunmar. But somehow now, I feel that helps it fit even better; I don’t currently think the Cycle of Abuse starts with Nature (in the whole Nurture vs Nature argument). I currently think abuse (in all it’s myriad forms, intentional or not) is inherited. Gunmar may have emerged from hateful conditions, and he may have inherited a direct metaphor for coercive abuse, and he may pass it on, but it’s not truly a part of him. Therein lies a little glimmer of hope that he might eventually see it for what it is - what it's doing to him and his people (who he was born to protect and provide for as a leader) - and reject Decimaar not only as a weapon, but as a way of thinking.

I'm a sucker for redemption arcs. I'm not sure I can give Gunmar one, or if I should even try. But I think in this, Jim has to make the effort to try to understand Gunmar and what he wants, and to convince him that there is a better way. Whether this version of Gunmar (eventually - I imagine it wouldn't come easy if it happens at all) takes him up on it or not, I don't know.

IF I go for it, though, I want to do it justice. Redemption is not about forgiveness or acquittal. Redemption is about climbing, no matter how far you’ve fallen, and even if you can never reach the top, you can still try to give others a boost along the way. Redemption (just like a relationship) isn’t achieved; it’s lived. And it doesn't necessarily mean joining the Good Guys. You won't see Gunmar Reformed agonizing about all the blood (human and trollish) he has spilled, or asking "Haven't I redeemed myself?" Gunmar Reformed (at least the way I'd hope to write him) may still have a great deal of contempt for humans in general, but he has learned enough about them that he can no longer see them in simplistic terms. He may privately think on What Could Have Been had he changed his perspective sooner, but he doesn't have the time or patience to dwell on regrets - the world is still hecked up, and he still has work to do (although the nature of that work has changed dramatically). I imagine if Gunmar changes his plans, he'll chase his new objectives his own way. The Trollhunters might have occasional, tenuous, scary, and unpredictable alliances with him when their goals align, but it might be a stretch to call them allies - a lot has happened, both sides are still angry with each other, but they've come to an understanding and have a degree of mutual respect, and can demonstrate enough good faith in one another to surprise each other. Gunmar will still have all his old ferocity, he'll just be channeling it in a new direction.

#Trollhunters fanfic AU idea #Heartstone Sun #theme talk

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wanderingthroughwickford · 8 years ago

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Thank you! My responses are super long (especially for M asdflkasdfjkasdf) so most of them will be under a cut.

A – How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]?

Since no fic was specified, I think I’ll just go back through some of the ones I’ve got up on FFN. Most of them are pretty self-explanatory, to be honest. ‘Eternity’ is so named because Myrtle is stuck at Hogwarts, in her teenage form and mindset, for, well, eternity. ‘And Then There Was One’ (a probably discontinued Hunger Games/Nancy Drew crossover) is also fairly obvious; it’s the Hunger Games so it’s inevitably going to come down to one person, and I also couldn’t resist shoehorning in a completely unnecessary reference to And Then There Were None since it’s also based off a mystery series. ‘Unstained’ refers to Wiress’ promise in the game to not ‘stain’ herself by committing murder in the games, and if I ever write its sequels they’ll follow the ‘Un’ formula – I’ve always intended the final fic in the prospective trilogy to be called ‘Unchained,’ but we’ll see if I ever get there.

I think the one that actually gave me the most trouble coming up with a title was ‘Goodbye,’ a Pirates of the Caribbean one-shot I wrote way back in 2009. I couldn’t seem to come up with a clever enough title for the fic, until I asked my mom for help and she suggested simply ‘Goodbye.’ I decided that in this case, less was more, and so the title stuck.

C – What character do you identify with most?

The ones that I’ve written for, I guess this means? I suppose I’ll have to go with Myrtle and Wiress. Although they definitely both have more tragic lives than I do, I still put a lot of myself into them – I outright headcanon Wiress as having Asperger’s Syndrome and being uninterested in romance, so I find her quite easy to write in that way, and a lot of her moralistic, somewhat self-righteous attitude at the beginning of Unstained (which she’ll eventually grow out of, fortunately) draws a lot from how I now see myself as having acted as a young teenager. Her somewhat morbid obsession with past Hunger Games and their victims has roots in my own (sometimes borderline depressing) fascination with shipwrecks such as the Titanic and Lusitania.

Myrtle I headcanon with some sort of unspecified mental illness, or at least deep insecurities and oversensitivity, and having trouble making and keeping friends. Her friendship with Murcia draws on some of the tentative friendships I had with girls in older grades, and – though this didn’t come through in the story for various reasons that would take a whole other ask to explain, and which I’m not entirely satisfied with but anyway – I definitely see Myrtle as having had a complicated crush on her, but never fully recognizing or accepting it for what it was because she wasn’t raised in a time or a society where girls loving other girls was normalized. Which, again, big part of my teenage years. Plus, the social awkwardness, introversion, and anxiety that both girls have is something I definitely relate to in general.

F – Care to share a favourite hurt/comfort fic?

Oh boy, that’s a tall order as there are so many, but the two that jump to mind immediately are Intersection by yadon/Copernicus Jones/Jake-Marshall and Pity the Child by Tanglepelt/Bookworm555. Intersection holds a very special place in my heart as it was written by my friend Leanne, featuring one of her favorite Ace Attorney characters, Jake Marshall, interacting with my OC Denise Swallow. Pity the Child was written by my friend Becca and involves two more of my faves – America and Latvia from Hetalia – having heartwarming interactions. Both are very good fics.

M – Got any premises on the back burner that you’d like to share?

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahaha

Well

It’d be easier to list fics I’ve actually completed than fics that are in various stages of planning

But if you insist

(This is the super LONG part and gets a little emotional towards the end)

The fic that I’d most like to complete within the foreseeable future is ‘Unstained,’ my story about Wiress’ Hunger Games. I’d say it’s about half-finished now, and I haven’t updated it in almost 4 years. That might change in the future; I’d like to get at least a few more chapters done this summer, but I don’t think it’s humanly possible to get it finished before I leave for Ontario, and then I’ll be so busy for a solid year that I doubt I’ll be able to write anything. And that’s not even counting the two prospective sequels I’d like to write. But even finishing this fic would be a major life accomplishment for me, as it’s one of those that I’m proudest of.

Then I have at least three fics about my Ace Attorney OC, Denise Swallow, which I’d like to write, though they’ll probably all be one-shots. Two of them are partially written, one isn’t even started yet. One of them would be a brief overview of the few times she met Dahlia Hawthorne, the infamous culprit who ended up murdering her brother. Another one, the longest and weightiest of the three, would involve her meeting Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey, who channels the spirit of her brother so that she can properly say good-bye. The last one would involve her meeting up with Dahlia’s sister, Iris, and coming to some sort of closure there.

A lot of my fic-writing is taking a backseat to a much more personal fic-universe-of-sorts that I’m working on, involving practically all of my favorite fandoms thrown together into an incredibly complicated storyline. It’s completely self-indulgent and not something I’d really want to share a lot about here, but one of the major plotlines I’m constructing in it would involve a villain-to-anti-hero redemption arc for Lucy Bauer from Agents of Shield. I’ll admit that I have toyed, very briefly, with the idea of converting this into proper FanFiction if and when I ever complete it, but that’s honestly very unlikely because 1) I’d have to remove it from its crossover context, 2) I’d have to insert it into either AoS season 5 canon, which hasn’t even been filmed yet, or an alternate version of season 5, and 3) it seems completely implausible within the story’s canon. Plus, there’s the inevitable ‘no one would read it’ problem.

In the past couple months I’ve considered writing an And Then There Were None Hunger Games AU, as well as a brief oneshot about Soldier Island being haunted by the ghosts of the ATTWN victims, but I’m very unlikely to do anything with those. There’s still my Nancy Drew Hunger Games AU left unfinished, but if I get back to that, it’ll be entirely as a way to blow off steam, rather than to try and write anything especially good. Just today I was attacked by the idea of writing a Lord of the Rings fic about Aragorn returning Boromir’s arm braces to Faramir and telling him how his brother died, but again, just a passing fancy that I’m very unlikely to write.

And that’s just the tip of it. There are so many FanFiction ideas I’ve considered writing and abandoned. The 8 fics I have up on FFN are the few lucky ideas that actually came to fruition, even though a good deal of them are unfinished as well. I’m honestly amazed that I was even able to finish ‘Eternity,’ or get as far as I have on ‘Unstained.’ I have an X-Men Evolution fic up that was originally supposed to be a multichap of 10-15 chapters, and it hasn’t been updated since 2011. When I was in high school I planned out a whole series of Pirates of the Caribbean fics chronicling James Norrington’s life, from childhood until his death, but I only ever got the first chapter of one written and never posted it. (Partially because I sort of balked at the HUGE amount of research I’d planned to do on 18th-century naval life for that fic). I’d like to go back to this one idea I had for a Hetalia fic, a series of one-shots about times in which the characters have wished they were humans rather than nations, but again, research would be necessary and it’s so draining.

That’s the problem. I love thinking up ideas and planning stories and having them finished, but at the end of the day, the act of writing itself is such a chore for me. And I hate that. I wish I could write effortlessly, like I used to as a kid, but I haven’t been able to do so since I was 12 or so. Which, coincidentally, is the time my depression started to majorly set in. I don’t know if the two are connected, but I can’t help but wonder if mental illness robbed me of a pastime that I dearly loved, and of countless fics I could have written by now.

(I know this is long and cheesy and overemotional, but cut me some slack, it’s almost 1 am)

O – How do you begin a story – with the plot, or the characters?

You know, this is strange, because when I first saw this question I thought, of course I start with the plot, who would just say “I want to write a story about [character]” without even having any idea of what the plot would be yet? And then I realized that that’s exactly what I do – start with a character I want to write about and come up with a plot based off that. In fact, most of my stories aren’t even plot-driven much as just general looks into the lives of certain characters.

Y – A character you want to protect

Hah, it seems like the characters I want to protect and the characters I end up putting through torture are exactly the same. The two that jump to mind right away are – my sun and my stars and everything, the one and only APH Latvia, and my precious ghostly daughter, Myrtle Warren (Moaning Myrtle). And yet I endlessly read fics in which the former, and wrote a fic in which the latter, suffers. Whoops.

#FanFiction #FanFic #ask meme #writing ask

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