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entishramblings · 4 years

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You Have Pretty Hair [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: so this one shot has some pieces from my fanfic (link in description) but I altered it for a legolas x reader formate cuz I figured you all would be interested because on wattpad so many users said they loved it! So if you recognize it....that’s why!!!

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is traveling with the fellowship and they end up drinking one night and Legolas has to take care of (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,270

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N), a young female ranger of the Dunedain and close friend of Aragorn’s, grinned when she saw a worn down sign that read: The White Lion Inn. She had chosen to accompany the fellowship on the quest to destroy the one ring, for her sword skills and healing abilities would provide useful. She had trained under Isildur’s heir for many years and was well aquatinted with the lays of the lands.

The weary members of the fellowship trudged through the door hoping for a comfortable bed, hot meal, and some quality ale. When they entered, the diverse group was immediately greeted by the sound of drunk humans and off-pitch tavern songs. Many uncertain eyes wandered across them for they had just demolished a pack of orcs so they were quite a sight to see. (Y/N) had a bloody head wound and was splashed with dark orc blood; Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli had a handful of superficial cuts whereas Legolas was completely unscathed. Not to mention they were accompanied by a wizard and four hobbits. An interesting group indeed.

The wooden walls of the tavern were dimly lit by candles and lanterns while the room was filled with intoxicated, dirt covered travelers—not the most appealing of types. Furthermore, the stale air smelled of ale and three days old piss. But alas, it was better than the bone chilling coldness of outside and the threat of Sauron’s spies.

Gandalf suggested they get cleaned up before diving into drinking, but (Y/N) had other ideas.

She smirked at the sight before her. She loved taverns and she loved drinking. She hadn't had any alcohol since her arrival at Rivendell so she was quite deprived from the ensnaring numb sensation it provided.

The female Ranger immediately walked up to the barkeep and tossed a coin onto the counter, "One pint of the good stuff."

The bar tender glanced at the blood covered woman and raised his eyebrows, but he did not question anything for he often saw strange folk with strange business in this part of town. He plucked a glass from the shelves behind him and generously poured a tall tankard with bitter ale. He slid it across the counter towards her and she offered a quick thanks.

......

It was not long until most of the fellowship had started drinking. Gandalf, Sam, and Frodo had retired early for they were exhausted and had no interest in getting drunk. Merry, Pippin, and Gimli however had started a drinking contest while the two human men observed with laughter. Legolas only had two pints, which did absolutely nothing for him. (Y/N) on the other hand was on her 6th? 7th? She had lost track a long time ago and was completely utterly waisted.

Currently, the female ranger was on the top of the table dancing and laughing with the two hobbits (who were slightly less drunk). The three beings’ arms were locked and they were swinging around and around giggling uncontrollably. Merry and Pippin sung tavern songs terribly while accidentally kicking the bowls of peanuts to the floor with their large hairy feet. It was quite a sight, amusing to all onlookers.

Pippin nodded in Legolas's direction. The elf was sitting at the bar talking to the barkeep for he was the quiet type and preferred calm company.

"(Y/N), what do you think of Legolas?"

She stumbled and let out a loud belch before slurring out, "He's ssuper talll."

Pippin grinned, "I agree with you there as I am quite short as well! But he’s considered average if you compare him to Strider and Boromir.”

A confused look crossed the ranger's face for a moment before she giggled again.

“Oh....right....”

She then called out to Boromir sitting below her, “PASS ME ANOTHER PINT!"

The Gondorian immediately handed her another and she took a big swig from it.

With his elf hearing, Legolas listened in on the conversion. He couldn't help but smirk at the drunken stupidity of (Y/N). He observed that she had always been a carefree spirit and it seemed that alcohol brought that aspect out further. However, as soon as he heard her call for another pint he knew he needed to interfear. She was incredibly intoxicated and adding another drink to that would not be smart. Legolas left his stool and briskly walked towards the table of his friends.

(Y/N)’s grin widened when she saw the elven prince, "Legolas!"

Merry then insisted that he join their dancing and (Y/N) released another giggle, but the moment was interrupted as the female Ranger lost her footing and fell forward—off the table. She felt her body smack against something firm that smelled of pine and honey. Quite strange for something that smelled so good to be in this less than tasteful place. She squinted in puzzlement as the world around her distorted; it was upsidedown, twisted, warped.

What was going on?

Her gaze landed on bright blue eyes that stared down at her with uncertainty. That’s when the realization hit her. She was in Legolas’s arms. She frowned.....and her tunic was soaked wet? The alcohol must have spilled out of the tankard that she had been holding. She lazily examined Legolas and a giggle escaped her lips when she realized he was also covered in the ale.

(Y/N) continued to marveled at the blonde elf who was evaluated her drunken state. She laughed again. "You have muscly arms," she said with a slur.

Legolas sighed and made eye contact with Aragorn. The uncrowned king nodded, knowing exactly what Legolas was asking. They both silently agreed that (Y/N) had had enough.

“All right," the elf said as he put her down, "You're done." The last part of his sentence sounded stern, commanding, and showed that he was slightly pissed off—not that the drunk ranger could pick up on that.

Legolas didn't understand how she got so careless to drink this much while they were on a very important mission. Quite frankly, he was surprised Aragon had let it get this far as he had assumed the figure of older brother long ago; but alas, (Y/N) was a grown woman who was perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

The Elven Prince took the half filled pint from her hand and passed it to Boromir. Legolas then grabbed her arm and slightly tugged her in the opposite direction, but she reached out and snatched the unfinished pint from the Gondorian. She quickly took another big gulp before Legolas pulled the tankard from her hand once again. He firmly set it down on the table and shot Borimir a look.

The elf then pulled the grumbling ranger by her arm, more forcefully this time. He lead her to the barkeep and held her upright, "One room key please,"

The man looked at the state of the drunk woman and chuckled, "Good luck with that one."

He passed the elven prince the key and Legolas tugged (Y/N) to the crooked wooden stairs. He motioned for her to go up. She glanced at the step and let out another giddy laugh before lifting her leg. She was able to climb up a couple steps before falling back against Legolas chest. He easily caught her and held her waist until she regained some balance. She again lifted her foot but immediately stumbled. Legolas shook his head in frustration, bent down slightly, and scooped her up bridal style. He began to assend the stairs as she whined to go back for another pint. The elf’s ears turned light pink as he heard his friends snickering at the current situation he was in. He chose to ignore it; someone had to take care of her.

Legolas opened the door to the small room and sat (Y/N) down on the bed, her legs dangling off the side. He poured some water from a pitcher onto a towel and turned back to the drunk woman. He gently wiped her face with it, making sure to erase the dirt and dried blood from the outdoor adventure.

Legolas carefully began to clean the small wound on her head. He wished she would have done so earlier for an injury was not to be left untended; but alas, when she made a decision she stuck by it.

He watched as (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed and she tried to pull away from the cloth. "Cold, cold, cold," she grumbled like a child.

Legolas sighed, "(Y/N), don't make this difficult."

She groaned once more before letting out another giggle. The blonde elf raised his eyebrows in question.

"You," She slurred, "have prettyyy hair.”

She reached her hand out and grasped a handful of his blonde locks, “Can youu braid mine like that some day!?”

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

Legolas reached upward and carefully untangled her fingers from his hair for he was fearful that, in her drunk state, she would end up getting them stuck in it.

The Prince had dealt with a lot of intoxicated elves in his lifetime, but (Y/N)’s behavior was so innocent and seemed to be even more amusing. Humans—always an interesting species. He still was angry at her lack of self control when it came to drinking, but it was hard not to smile at her intoxicated actions and words.

The blue eyed elf's hands made their way to her hair. He gently pulled out the tie from the messily twisted bun, allowing her locks to cascade down her shoulders.

"(Y/N)," Legolas started.

She let out another giddy laugh.

Legolas sighed, "What is it now?"

"I thinks I had too many alcohols."

Legolas smirked at her improper grammar, "Yes, indeed you did."

She let out yet another giggle.

"(Y/N), your tunic is wet with ale and orc blood. Do you wish me to find a servant to assist you?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head while grasping onto his sleeve, "Youu just help me."

Legolas lips parted as he felt a blush creep up his neck and upon his ears. He cleared his throat, "(Y/N), I'm not su—"

The woman interrupted him, "You." She paused in attempt to gather her drunk words together, "I trustt you over some random strangeeer."

Legolas let out a nervous exhale but nodded.

He ruffled through her bag until he came across an extra black tunic. He grasped the soft fabric in his calloused hands and stood in front of her.

"Are you wearing anything under this?"

She nodded. Her words slurring as she spoke, "MHhmm, uunderrrgarments to coverr my brea—"

He interrupted her awkwardly, "(Y/N), I know how basic anatomy and clothing work."

Legolas gently took hold of the bottom of her dirty tunic and begun to pull it up and over her head, careful not to get any orc blood on her skin. He could feel his cheeks heating even more as her shirt rose; he was just grateful she was too intoxicated to notice. He gently untangled her arms from the disgusting fabric and removed it completely.

She sat on the bed with eyes closed as she begun to sway slightly. The blonde elf's gaze trailed down her body cautiously, taking in her appearance. Her undergarment encased her chest, covering what needed to be. However, it clearly accentuated the curves of her breasts and the shape of her torso. He watched as her skin and toned muscles rippled ever so slightly with small movements. She was utterly beautiful, despite her terribly drunken state. Legolas swallowed dryly. He felt the desire to touch her soft skin and inch his hands over her form crept into his mind; but he did not want that while she was intoxicated. Her well-being was his top priority. Besides, they were not courting. He doubted she even knew of his affections.

Legolas pulled the new, clean tunic over her head and assisted her in getting her arms through. He felt slightly relieved that it was over for the situation had been quite compromising.

If anyone had walked in......

If Aragorn had walked in.....

The elf’s mind wandered slightly at the thought of his friend. Strider made no move to assist Legolas with the intoxicated young woman that he had trained. It was almost as if he had let the elf take care of her on purpose.

Legolas blushed.

That cheeky bastard.

Aragorn had to have done that on purpose. Legolas remembered all the times Strider had paired him and the female Ranger to collect firewood and watch for Sauron’s enemies. The man’s twinkling eyes and mischievous looks......he definitely did this on purpose.

Legolas sighed once again before tuning back the (Y/N). He quickly pulled off her boots and then pulled back her covers. He then helped her climb into the soft comfort of the feathery bed. The Elven Prince sat on the edge of the mattress and gently ran his hand through her hair to coax her to sleep; and there he stayed watching over her.

.......

The female ranger walked down the stairs to the tavern. She was rubbing her temples and groaning with every step. Her head pounded like drums, the light blinded like white fire, and everything was just too damn loud.

She saw that most of the fellowship was all sitting around a table across the room, many of them with the same problem as her.

Legolas unexpectantly appearing near her and chuckled when she walked past him, "feeling better?"

She sent him a death glare and grumbled in response. She plopped down on the bench across from Merry and Pippin and next to Boromir.

The Gondorian nudged the female ranger, "Do you have any memory of last night?"

She groaned, "Why? What happened?"

At that moment Aragorn slid onto the bench next to (Y/N) with a big grin on his face. He spoke with a tone filled of taunting amusement, "Legolas took care of your drunk ass!”

(Y/N) groaned at that statement and put her head on the table.

Of fucking course.

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katetheworm · 3 years

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Naud Bui Amarth

Note: My buffer of three chapters is dwindling to one and a half now, but that's okay. I really just wanted to update this because I feel like it. Anyway, thank you for reading, and comments, reblogs, etc are more than welcome! (This is not proofread btw)

Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader

Warnings: None

Rating: G

Words: 3,057

Part Three (Part One : Part Two : Part Four ; Part Five)

The next day consisted of mostly walking and only resting at nightfall. The hobbits, especially Pippin, were very distraught at this fact, having been raised on many more meals throughout the day other than breakfast and dinner. Cefrey could not blame the young lads as she also found herself craving another meal after many hours of hiking up and down hills, across streams, and through dense woods.

They were trekking up one of those hills when Cefrey decided to finally ask what was on everyone’s minds. No one had asked before as they were all preoccupied with getting as far away from the Nazgul as possible.

She moved a little faster to catch up to Strider -- he truly lived up to the name, his legs were long and his resolve unwavering when it came to covering as much ground as they could. “So, where exactly are you taking us?”

“Into the wild.” Was his only answer.

She could have guessed that his response would be something as vague as that, and yet she still felt her eyes roll at his comment. Without changing her pace, Cefrey stayed walking next to the ranger, intent on figuring out what his plan was.

“You could at least specify a bit more than that, Strider.” The way she spoke his name was one of suspicion and speculation that his true name was more than the title the townsfolk gifted him.

The ranger lifted a brow at her statement, her words and attitude amusing him. “Well, if you truly must know, we are going to Rivendell, land of the elves.”

As Cefrey smiled the hobbits behind her began whispering quite loudly. Sam was very excited to go see the elves while the others were still a little wary of the true meaning their guide held. The mage was fairly happy to learn they were going to Rivendell. It was, in fact, one of her favorite places to visit, and she would at every chance she got. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t very many. Cefrey was indeed quite busy most of the time. At least, busy in her terms.

The sun began to set more and the ranger knew it was time to settle down for the night. He told the hobbits to make camp and rest under the large trees surrounding them while he kept watch. Cefrey helped her companions settle down and watched them fondly as they fell asleep after eating. She had grown to care for the four halflings quite a bit after the short time she spent with them. They reminded the sorceress of herself in some ways. So carefree and quaint, and yet they were able to carry such a burden without so much of a single complaint.

Strider had noticed the woman’s sudden perk up when he mentioned the elven city and wondered if she was more than she appeared. He knew that she was unlike the race of men, but what exactly made her that way?

“Miss Cefrey, have you been to Rivendell before?”

Her smile widened even more at the question. However, that action made her confused. She hated being asked questions, so why was she so keen on answering his? She shook off that thought and chose to indulge the man beside her.

“Yes, I have been to Rivendell, on many occasions, actually. It’s quite the wondrous place to be. So many books to read!” She twirled on her feet, a few stray locks of dark golden hair swaying in the wind before she sat down next to the ranger on a small boulder, her green eyes sparkling both with joy and the moon’s light.

She sighed longingly, thinking about the many hours, sometimes even days, she would spend in the libraries of Lord Elrond. Her expression saddened. She had not visited the elves there in many years. Her days had been occupied by many things. Though, now that she thought about it, what had she been doing during those years? Collecting herbs and flowers, experimenting with her powers, writing and reading any and every book she found. She hadn’t led a very eventful life. At least, before this little adventure she was a part of.

The ranger watched her as she pondered, lost in her own thoughts. He realized he knew nothing about her. And yet he felt as if he had known her for years. He knew there was no spell on him, he had no disease. So why did his heart ache whenever he looked into her eyes. Why did he feel so strange when she sat close to him, their body heat mixing, making his eyes linger on her form when she wasn’t looking at him. He had never felt this way about anyone except… No, not even with her. This was different. He had known the mage for not even two days, though his heart and mind thought otherwise.

“Strider?”

Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and her question snapped the blonde out of hers.

She waited for no response from the ranger, having realized he rarely spoke unless completely necessary. “I realize now that you are speaking the truth when you say you are a friend of Gandalf’s…” Cefrey stared up at the bright moon, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “It was odd. When we first met in the inn, I wanted to believe you were untrustworthy. That you were not truly there to help us, help Frodo… but I couldn’t. It was almost as if…” She trailed off, realizing that she was rambling and laughed a bit at her words. “Oh, don’t mind me, ranger,” She patted his shoulder before standing up, gazing into the darkness of the trees. “I will be back by sunrise. Don’t leave without me!” She called over her shoulder, walking into the blackened woods.

The ranger narrowed his eyes at the fading silhouette of the sorceress, unsure of whether or not he should stop her or at least go with her. He shook his head, his gaze turning to the four hobbits sleeping restlessly behind him. He couldn’t leave them unprotected. Cefrey was more than capable of handling herself. Strider chuckled at that thought. Of course she was. She was mistaken as a wizard by many folk so she had to have been at least powerful enough to protect herself.

He sighed and stared up at the moon, wondering what she was thinking when she looked up at that bright light…

… Cefrey didn’t actually have to go anywhere, she really just wanted to get away from the ranger for a bit. He made her… feel things. Things she didn’t know how to describe, much less deal with when she was sitting right next to him, their shoulders brushing every so often. Her face heated up at the memory of being so close to him. And that was why she had to get away.

The forest at this time of night was almost like a completely different place than in the daytime. It was beautiful still, of course, but its beauty was that of mystery and darkness, while in the sunlight, it was calming and warm. The mage wandered through the woods, the streaks of moonlight illuminating her path. She knew not where she was going, just that she was. The journey is not about the destination, after all.

As she meandered through the forest, her thoughts also took a short stroll. Although they always landed back on the ranger. She didn’t know what to think of him. Was he someone she could grow close to? She hadn’t many friends, other than Gandalf, and maybe the four hobbits in her care. Though she still didn’t feel such a connection to them as she did with Strider. And she had known the halflings longer, and she had dealt with the Nazgul with them. It all didn’t make much sense to her.

Cefrey happened upon a small pond with a waterfall pouring into it. The air around the water was more humid than the rest of the woods as water sprayed into the air. The dull roar of the fall added to the ambiance of the wind and forest creatures around the blonde. She smiled softly at the scene before her. The calming nature of the pond and the sounds around her making her relax immensely.

Her thoughts drifted around in her mind as she sat on the grass next to the pond. Closing her eyes, the mage listened to the music of the wild; the bugs, the birds, the gurgling of water, it all added to the harmony surrounding her. Cefrey laid her head down on the soft grass, the sounds soon lulling her to sleep.

As the sun peeked over the hills and shone through the many trees, its light rested on a certain mage, resting peacefully near a small pond. Her eyes fluttered open, the sleep slowly removing itself from her body. Sitting up, Cefrey yawned loudly and brushed off the dirt and grass that clung to her clothes and skin. She noticed the rising sun and her eyes widened, her previous exhaustion leaving completely. She had to get back to the hobbits and… and Strider.

Stretching as she stood, the blonde recalled her trek through the woods and took the path back to the camp. She picked a few flowers and herbs along the way that she thought would be useful and stuck some into her belt, the flowers in her hair. Once she made it back to the camp, her companions were already packed and ready to go; the hobbits waited around the small horse while Strider was waiting at the edge of the woods, the way she had left during the night.

His eyes widened subtly, and if she hadn’t been looking, she wouldn’t have noticed it. The ranger took in her appearance, the disheveled dark blonde hair, tied into a low bun, with wild flowers peeking out the back and front, along with the just-woken-up blush on her freckled cheeks.

Cefrey smiled at the ranger, a kind, quaint smile, one that reminded him of a cool spring day, laden with pink flowers out the window. He turned his head, staring out into the distance towards their path.

“We must continue on.”

The mage agreed with his statement, nodding her head, and ushered the hobbits to walk ahead of her, albeit disappointed that the ranger passed over her appearance without so much of a comment or even one of his tiny smiles. Why was she so hellbent on getting him to like her?

Hiking a couple feet behind the halflings, Cefrey tried to collect her thoughts. She never realized until now that being with other people -- even if she rarely spoke to them -- made the time go by way more slowly than when she was alone. She thought it would be faster, but somehow walking next to these four hobbits, talking to Strider, thinking about Strider. It all made her days pass by in a much slower state. It was almost as if when she was by herself, she wouldn't think about the time passing, she would just do random things. Granted, those things did make her happy… they just seemed monotonous compared to the things she had done with Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin… with Strider.

Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, they continued on, past the forest after another night there and into windswept moors. Patches of moss green vegetation littered the snow-covered ground. Sam led the pony who was packed with their supplies while the three other hobbits walked behind him, Strider taking the front a few feet ahead.

Cefrey was too preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn’t really pay attention to what the others were doing. That is, until she was hit in the head with an apple. She cursed under her breath as the pain bloomed on her forehead, stopping to place her hand over it. She hadn’t noticed that she had walked in front of the hobbits and received a good bonk to the head as Strider was trying to make a point to Pippin.

Said ranger turned after he heard the mage curse and a frown made its way to his face. “I, uh. Sorry, Cefrey, didn’t know you were there.”

“Yeah, neither did I, apparently,” She retorted with amusement in her voice. She noticed the dour expression on Strider and shook her head, rubbing the spot where the apple hit. “Don’t worry, I’ve endured worse.”

The man still felt guilty for hitting the poor sorceress, but knew that they had to keep going if they were going to get to Rivendell at a reasonable time. Strider was aiming for the hobbit, he was trying to hit him in the head. So why did he feel so bad for hitting her? He chalked it up to be some chivalry that was buried under the layers of the dark exterior he put up.

She smiled at the ranger again, trying to dissuade his obvious guilt. She didn’t want him to feel bad. She wanted him to be happy… with her. No. Not with her. He probably prefers to be alone. There was no way he would want to be with her, happy or not.

She sighed and continued walking.

They camped in the moor for the next two nights and went on once the sun rose each day. Cefrey slept well those nights, under the stars, even as the snow dampened her clothes and made her shiver. She would have been colder than she actually was, but during the darkness someone draped a black cloak over her form, keeping the iciness at bay. Though when she woke, the cloak was gone, taken off before she rose from sleep and clasped back over the shoulders of the ranger. She never even noticed it was there.

They trekked through the rest of the moor for the beginning half of the day, soon walking into a wet marshland, bugs flying everywhere, and water soaking their clothes. The hobbits swatted the insects away, complaining the entire time they marched through the swamp. A few of them fell into the water, more than once, and each time, Cefrey would help them up, offering what she could in sympathy, as the midges and water annoyed her too.

It seemed that the sun set faster on that day, forcing the group to make a small camp sooner than they would like. At least, than what Strider and the mage would have liked, the halflings were more than happy to take a break, their legs sore from trying to keep up with their much taller companions.

The ranger went out to hunt, their food source had dwindled as the days passed. And, Cefrey amused that he also just wanted to be away for a moment, catch his breath, be alone. She understood that. More than she would care to admit, in all honesty. She may have preferred to stay isolated most of her years, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t enjoyed the time spent with people. In fact, the time she had spent with the four hobbits and Strider was some of the happier moments she could remember.

Starting a small fire by gathering a few logs and simply sparking it with her fingers, the mage waited silently on her bedroll, listening to the conversation the hobbits exchanged. Sometimes she would feel pity for the four of them. They were thrust into a situation entirely out of their control and utterly different than what they were all used to. Frodo definitely had the adventure spirit in him, just as his uncle. But the others? Merry and Pippin were there for the ride, while Sam… Poor, kind Sam, was always watching over Frodo, making sure he kept his promise to Gandalf. He might have dreamed of seeing the elves, but once they got to Rivendell, Cefrey was sure he would want to go straight back home, to his garden and his hobbit hole. And she couldn’t blame him, not one bit.

Strider came back after an hour or so, bringing with him a small deer that was hauled over his shoulder. They ate the venison, grateful for a full belly after many days with meager portions. Cefrey couldn’t deny that his kill was extremely filling, making her all the more glad the strange ranger accompanied them on their journey. There was no way she could have killed that animal. Both out of sadness and simply a lack of skill.

Soon after, with filled bellies and tired bodies, the hobbits fell asleep, the smoke of the fire keeping most of the bugs at bay. Cefrey, on the other hand, could not sleep. Her mind was racing, her thoughts jumping from one to another. Until she heard a faint singing.

Not wanting to disturb the soft tune, the blonde slowly rose from her blanket, her eyes adjusting to the darkness rather quickly. A smile tugged at her lips as she saw who was singing. Strider, always keeping watch, sat on a log, pipe in hand while he sang quite a forlorn melody.

“Tin viel elvanui,

Elleth alfirin ethelhael

O hon ring finnil fuinui…”

Before she could stop herself, another part of the song slipped from her mouth, “A renc gelebrin thiliol.”

The ranger turned his head slightly, not expecting another to know what he sang of. “You know of the Song of Beren and Lúthien?” Not needing an answer, Strider shook his head amusedly. “Of course. Someone as well-versed as you would know of many elvish hymns.”

Cefrey stood up from her resting spot, bringing the blanket with her, and sat down beside the guide, laying the piece of cloth over her legs. “Yes, and while you seem to know so much of my knowledge, I did not expect you to know these elvish tunes. And not only that, you sing them well, in perfect Sindarin.”

“We Dunedain are not uncivilized, my friend.”

She sighed, “I did not mean to offend, merely…” Stopping, she noticed his tone of voice. “You were teasing me?”

Without needing to answer, the ranger laughed lightly, the mage playfully hit his arm. They stayed up the rest of the night, keeping watch both on the hobbits, and on the bright stars.

#lord of the rings #aragorn x reader #aragorn x oc #original female character #aragorn #aragorn love story #fluff #naud bui amarth #part three #kate writes

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elfy-elf-imagines · 4 years

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Return to Me P.II | Lindir

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Lindir x Human!reader

Genre: Fluff, pure fluff

Warnings: Potential toothaches...??

Words: 2,174

Note: If you’d like to be added to a tag list for any of my works, there’s a link on my page! 12 years later we get Part 2 and the reunion of my two beans ♡

The sun is partially bright on this day, it seems, as if the sky itself is celebrating the return of Gondor’s king. Wind dances through the courtyard, making dance partners with everyone in the crowd, moving your dress with its beat. Your hair, pinned in a simple hairstyle often worn by the elves, is curled to perfection, bouncing in tune with birds singing in the distance. There’s a stupidly large grin on your face, one that you don’t care to try and force away. Everything in the past year or so has led to this very moment, every impossible moment and near death experience made it possible for peace to truly be restored to the realms as Aragorn takes his throne. The crowd is silent, watching the coronation with bated breath and wide eyes, excited and hopeful for the new chapter in their lives. Some people near the front desperately move around, trying to get a better look.

“Now comes the day of the king, may they be blessed!” Gandalf proclaims as he lowers the crown on Aragorn’s head. Aragorn smiles up at Gandalf, the same soothing smile that makes it easy to understand Arwen’s love for him and makes it even easier to understand the love the people hold for him. He stands from his kneeling position, turning to face the cheering crowd. His cloak billows dramatically behind him, showing off his perfectly polished armor, that glimmers with the regalness expected of a king. One hand rests on the pommel of his blade while his other is outstretched.

“This day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world; that we may share in the days of peace.” He holds both of his hands out, his voice soft, yet confident, speaking as Elessar, the King of Gondor, the rightful heir returned to his throne; not Strider, the Ranger in the North. He commands the attention of everyone just by simply being in a room, never needing to raise his voice higher than a comfortable talking volume.

You glance at Gimli beside you, his wild red hair and beard somewhat tamed for the special event, the beads in his hair that accessorize his braids glint brightly in the sun. He holds a plush velvet pillow that moments prior Aragorn’s crown that adorns his head used to rest on. He wears a large grin you’re sure is also on your face, as relieved and ecstatic for the new era as you. You move your gaze back to Aragorn, white blossoms from The White Tree blowing in the wind, captivating your attention. Like a child catching snow, you hold out a hand, hoping to capture a blossom or two. You manage to get three. You close your hand around them, feeling the silky petals on your skin. A moment later, you open your hand and blow on the flowers, urging them to continue flying through the wind.

And they do, they dance in the air, a beautiful waltz you could never hope to mimic.

Aragorn descends down the stairs, nodding his head at every familiar face he passes. The procession of elves march forward, but it’s not the uptight and rigid way they march into battle, no it’s too relaxed and loose for that. Legolas steps forward, wearing ceremonial garb fitting of an elven prince, him and Aragorn clasping each other's arm. Aragorn says something to him, too quiet for you to hear. Legolas smirks, and moves his head to the left. The elves behind him move forward, one of them holding a particularly large banner, the sigil on it familiar.

A bright smile forms on your face and your eyes practically glow in excitement. You’ve seen that banner a million times, when you would walk up and down the halls of Imladris, hung in the Hall of Fire, and even in your bedroom. She’s here, she’s really here. You knew that she wouldn’t leave for Valinor without a fight, but seeing her here, in person, puts out any lingering doubt.

Slowly, she moves the banner aside, confirming it to be Arwen, beautiful and radiant as ever. She wears a pale green flowy dress, it’s fabric light and airy, the style common for elves, a stark difference to the heavy and thick dresses of Gondor and Rohan. A headpiece forged from silver and inlaid with dozens of glittering gems adorns her head, crowing her lucious black hair that falls down her back like a lazy waterfall. Her pale skin glows in the warm sunlight, her eyes sparkling from the tears forming.

For a moment, Aragorn and Arwen stare at each other, one watching the other with amazement and love in their eyes. The crowd is dead silent, everyone intently watching the scene unraveling before them. Then Aragorn steps forward, grabbing onto the banner and pulling it away. And then he lunges forward, capturing her lips into a kiss. She laughs in delight, throwing her arms around his as he lifts her into the air, spinning her around. They pull away for a moment and she places her dainty hands on his face, leaning forward and placing a short and sweet kiss on his lips.

The crowd around them begins clapping loudly, warmly greeting their new queen. And it didn’t register in your mind that this might be the first time most of these people have seen an elf this close up. But then you saw the looks of wonder and amazement on the faces of some citizens, children excitedly pulling on the skirts of their mothers, pointing wildly at Arwen and the other elves.

You continue watching the newly reunited pair, your face growing numb from the large smile that is permanently etched on your face. You scan the crowd, seeing Lord Elrond, with a soft smile on his face; Glorfindel beside him; Elladan and Elrohir behind his father to the right. You continue scanning the crowd, but then your heart stops, only to begin beating again faster than ever before.

Standing amidst the other elves, wearing silken and beautiful ceremonial garb, probably the most pristine outfit he owns, is Lindir. His black hair is glossy, every strand in its place, pulled back in an intricate elven braid. He wears a silver circlet, fitting for an elf of his status, the tip of it resting on his forehead. His skin is glowing, not as intensely as Arwen, but captivating to you. His cheeks are stained a pale red, a beautiful smile on his face. His blue eyes move to you and for the first time in over a year, your eyes meet. You feel a jolt of electricity run through your body, heart beat increasing in pace.

Your smile widens, if possible, and you can’t tear your gaze away from him. Even when Aragorn and Arwen begin to move through the crowd, your eyes stay locked on him. When you, along with everyone else, bow for the Hobbits, your eyes only flit away for a second before returning to their previous position. And when the crowds begin to disperse, everyone mingling with one another as they lazily move towards the feast portion of the Coronation, you stay locked in place.

“You coming, lassi?” Gimli’s gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, but his voice is so far away, you weren’t sure if he was still by you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes, moving your gaze back to Lindir, still in his same spot.

“Yeah...I’ll be there in a moment,” you mutter, not sure if he even hears the words that fall from your mouth. He scoffs in amusements and shakes his head before moving away with Gandalf, muttering something about young love.

You take one step forward, Lindir mimicking your movements.

You take another step and so does Lindir.

Once your feet touch the stone steps, your mind suddenly comes alive, as if water got thrown over your body. As if you only have a few moments to live, you rush towards Lindir, weaving through the lingering people with the grace of a baby elephant. But you can’t bring yourself to care about the wild stares or accusing words falling from people’s lips. The only thing you can focus on is Lindir, and feeling his lips against yours.

Three.

Two.

One.

The distance between you two disappears as you throw your arms around him, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric of his robes beneath your fingers. He’s warm and inviting and everything you missed while travelling with The Fellowship. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling as close as physically possible. The smell of mountain air, fields of grass, and rose oil hits your senses, pulling you deeper and deeper into your bliss. He’s real and he’s here. You deeply inhale once more, allowing this moment to sink in, immersing yourself in the moment.

You move your head to face him, throwing your head back in delight as a stream of laughter leaves your mouth. You move your arms to wrap around his neck, one of his hands winding around your waist and the other lightly cupping your face. Like magnets you move closer to one another, staring deeply into each other’s eyes with dumb smiles on your face.

“You came back to me,” he whispers, the words tickling your lips.

“I came back,” you reply.

You don’t remember who did it, all you know is his lips are now on yours, connecting them in a kiss. His lips are soft against yours, filling your whole body with a fire, burning away the ice that formed in his absence. Your heart soars, long past the point of just beating rapidly against your chest. You feel light, like you’re made of air and you’ll fly away any second without Lindir holding you in place. All the noise and background people fade away, until there’s nothing but this moment. And you can’t help but smile in the kiss when Lindir laughs, the noise swallowed by your mouth.

And in that moment you decide there’s nothing better than kissing someone while they laugh.

You pull a whisper away, moving a hand to trace the outlines of his face. His skin is smooth and perfect, the shining example of the perfection of elves. His blue eyes are like oceans, clear and bright and vividly blue. And if every ocean looked like this, you wouldn’t mind drowning as long as it was in him.

“I told you it would take more than Mordor to get rid of me,” you mumble softly, smiling brightly at him, shining like the sun currently bathing the two of you in it’s radiance.

“Apologies for ever doubting you, meleth-nin,” he responds, returning your smile tenfold.

Another breeze rushes through the courtyard, rustling your dress and Lindir’s hair. You laugh, the sound being swept away in the wind, singing in tune with the birds that have swept into the courtyard. Some spare white blossoms continue dancing through the sky, gently landing on Lindir’s head. He reaches up, delicately grabbing it, careful to not crush the pristine petals. He moves his hand to your hair, tucking the flower into one of your braids near the front of your face. You're practically glowing now, a beaming smile overcoming your face. And with your body practically vibrating from happiness, standing under the sun, you look like an otherworldly being. And if not for your round ears on clear display, some passersby might mistake you for an elf.

You lean forward, pressing a soft and sweet kiss to his lips, tasting the remnants of sweet berries on his lips. They were always his favorite, a fresh bowl of them always resting on his desk, only to be devoured within an hour.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, still smiling like an idiot.

“No more than I love you,” he responds, a teasing undertone buried in his words. You pull back, eyes alight with overwhelming happiness. It’s over, everything with Sauron, Mordor, orcs, and that stupid ring is over, it has been for months. But now it feels real, standing here, wrapped up in Lindir as he smiles sweetly at you.

“I respectfully disagree.”

“And I respectfully disagree with your disagreement,” he fires back, grin getting wider and wider with each quip spoken.

“And I respectfully disagree with your respectful disagreement,” you respond, matching his teasing tone, laughter hidden under each word.

“Well I --” he’s cut off by a hand touching your shoulder. Turning around you see Glorfindel standing there, obviously holding back the laughter that’s bubbling inside him, a beaming smile on his youthful face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, my friends, but we do have a celebration to attend to,” he says, nodding towards the crowd of people leaving.

“Of course,” Lindir replies, moving to stand to your left, holding out his arm to you. You slip your arm into his without hesitation. “Let us be off, My Lady.”

“With pleasure, My Lord.”

o0o0o0o0o

Tags:

#lindir imagine #lindir x reader #Lindir oneshot #lindir #LOTR #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings oneshot #lord of the rings Drabble #lotr imagine #lotr oneshot #Imladris imagine #imladris #imladris elves #rivendell elves #rivendell imagine #post lotr #fluffy

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pearlescent-princess · 3 years

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Okay, let me see how much I can get from this thing I went to. I always feel like my foresight of how events are going to go (/do go) get in the way of my own "visual" recall. Just of what actually happened. I still keep trying though, just felt as if a dream got in a way this time. Several that is. Better than not at all, at least the mental garbage was sorted and emptied.

Recollection of event under the cut. Reader beware, it is a bit long.

It was hinted to me as I had a brief conversation earlier in the week that I'd be going out on Saturday night. Which I did, not physically of course, for an outing. I actually surprisingly almost forgot about it until the day of. Not usual for me but nonetheless, I'm glad I did remember so I could sleep on time.

Strider, Goldie and I had gone together. Originally Strider said he wasn't going to go with, but he did. I was bundled up in my warm fluffy coat and wearing comfortable pants. I knew it was going to be chilly where we were going just because of the event. Goldie had done all the planning for it and wanted to surprise me.

It was chilly where we were. Up in the north of his home world, a place where I cannot recall well but know I've been to. Goldie wore a peacoat, a patterned scarf and leather gloves. Typical for him as he likes to look good. Strider wore his winter jacket, the kind with fur around the hood, and his gloves. He looked tired, but with the time he's been around me, I know it's just his resting face.

We checked in to our event. It was out in the wilderness, just a bit. I remember seeing massive pine trees around. Would make sense as we were in a forest. We had gone to one of those outdoor bubble domes for the night, just not overnight. It was warmer inside there than it was outside. I remember a central fire pit that had a low flame. Strider mentioned he'd cook up some snacks after.

I remember sitting down, leaning into Goldie's side. I wish I could recall more of the feeling than just the path of the events here. His touch is always a comfort. He quietly spoke and told me to look up. He had caught one of the meteors shooting by. I could tell he was thankful we made it before the peak of them. It would have been disappointing otherwise. Strider plopped himself next to me and rather heavily rested his head on shoulder. He cuddled up to me and laced his arms around me. He didn't say anything.

It was nice to have some quiet time for us three here. Just enjoying the presence of each other and watching the stars and meteors. Strider readjusted himself here and encompassed me some more in his hold. He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and mumbled that he'd make some snacks. I stroked his hair with a small hand of mine. He sighed out in a relaxed manner. Mumbled out again that it felt nice.

Goldie stroked my side and asked if I wanted to sit outdoors with him. I looked at him and nuzzled my face against his shoulder. I said yes, just because the chill wouldn't bother me. Goldie asked Strider if he'd be willing to make a few hot chocolates. I know Strider did as he came out later with them.

Goldie and I sat on the wooden deck, our legs hanging over the edge. We overlooked a valley below. There was snow on the ground here, but Goldie said it was just because of where we were. I redirected my attention to the meteor shower. Somehow it was all the more beautiful watching it with him. We held hands together. I watched and watched how many shooting stars streaked by. Goldie said he was waiting for a very special one to make a wish on. I gave a short laugh at that, an amused puff of air.

Strider came out with a tray of hot chocolates and a few other treats. I think a few were dipped chocolate fruits. There were definitely blueberries which I know they both love. I sipped on my hot chocolate. I remember its warmth and feel as I drank it. Much better tasting than what I'd make here, even if Strider does like it. I ate some fruit and felt tears well up in me. I cried a little bit at all the gestures. Strider carefully sat next to me, then took hold of my other hand. I sniffled a bit. But I spoke out at the same time as Goldie, "I think our wishing star is coming."

We readied our eyes up to the sky. It was definitely a large, bright meteor. Not quite a fireball, but larger than the other ones. Hard to miss really. I know we all silently wished. I squeezed their hands and focused my hopes and dreams on what I wanted. In my heart, I felt something shine as if the same magic I've tried to do here actually did something, but I had to be over there to do it. I exhaled, my eyes still wet with tears and laughed in a relieved manner after the wishing star disappeared. I sniffled again, "I love you guys so much... I don't even have the words for it. I'll never have them, but I do have the feelings to convey it, thankfully."

Strider snorted at me, "What we do, we do for love. But I love you too."

Goldie was misty-eyed, moved my mug to not spill it, and embraced me. His words were sweet and mushy. He didn't make it into a contest, as it was our inside thing, but he said, "I love you more." I almost wanted to say, "I love you most in return" as I usually would, but let it be.

We got chilled after watching more of the shower. Strider helped me up, my body stiff even over there (which isn't unusual as I've been told xyz as to why). Goldie escorted me inside. I sat on a plush cushion kind of bed on the floor. I took my jacket off. Goldie took his off and sat next to me. He had some of his favorite poetry to read. He gave me a pillow so I may rest on my head near his lap. I remember his right hand stroking my back as he read. The warmth of him and the fire making me sleepy.

Strider came back in after and finished his hot chocolate. (Yes, I had finished mine earlier). He sat on the other side of me and closed his eyes for a bit. I know I drifted off at some point. Content to sleep near those I love.

#monarch's musings #spirit tales #astral #night strider #golden eyes #it was.. so nice

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 4 years

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Dimension Jumping pt. 1

The Fellowship of the Ring x Reader

But a lot of the stories are about the reader falling into Middle Earth…. what about the other way around? If you wanted to do all the characters, you could do a point after they left Rivendell, before they split up?

Like for example, after Gandalf ‘dies’, and it could be something sweet and cute or whatnot where the reader helps them grieve a bit, give them a bit of a rest before continuing on their journey?

—

Weekends have always been your favorite time of the week.

No responsibilities, sleeping in, more time, freedom, the list goes on and on.

Your weekends are usually spent idly doing things you enjoy, like sleeping, and lot’s of stress free activities.

Not this weekend though, for when you got home after a grocery run, you were met with quite the surprise.

A total of 8… people? lay strewn about in your living room seemingly unconscious. They are dressed in odd clothes, holding medieval looking weapons, and they look rather raggedy and dirty. Four of them are extremely small, and if it weren’t for their older looking faces, you would’ve thought them to be children. There’s also a handsome blond with pointy ears, a short red headed, bearded… man, and two semi-regular looking tall dudes.

Your groceries fall from your arms and land on your carpeted floor, but you barely pay that any mind since you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the pile of people in the middle of your damn living room.

Your floofy white dog Penny is sniffing around them, but she doesn’t seem to be alarmed nor agitated by their presence, so that’s good at least. She’s an excellent judge of character after all. Eventually she settles down next to the tall guy with dark brown hair, and though you don’t like that she’s next to these strangers, you allow it.

The sound of your things falling to the ground seems to rouse them, and you watch as the man wearing dark clothing with dark hair opens his eyes and groans quietly. At first his eyes scan around the room, then they fall upon you.

He sits up slowly, still eyeing you as he glances down at his small child-looking friends. A look of relief passes his expression before he looks at you once more, saying nothing while the rest of his merry band of crazies begin to sit up.

This is supposed to be your fucking day off, and this shit happens? A bunch of renaissance weirdos laying in your house, making your clean carpet dirty.

“You know what, no.” You state loudly, successfully startling the dark haired man, “This is my weekend off, and I am not dealing with this. Whatever this is."

You turn on your heel and begin picking up your groceries, though you remain vigilant incase one of them intends to try something.

Once you’ve gathered all your discarded things you stand again and look behind you, seeing that most of them are on their feet and looking at you and your home as if you’re some alien in a structure unknown to them. You quickly look forward again and go to your kitchen, placing everything on your counters while you try to decide how the hell you’re going to deal with this.

You look over your counter at the still staring people and ask slowly, "Does… anyone want a snack?”

Two of the small blonde men perk up when you say ‘snack’, so you take that as a yes and begin preparing apples, celery, and peanut butter for everyone to eat.

By the time you’re done cutting up the apples you’ve only got two left, but you just sigh and bring out a tray with the snack and place it on the coffee table.

The two blond… boys? run over to it immediately, but are halted by a sharp “No.” from the brown-haired guy.

Said brown-haired guy is looking at you distrustfully, and you feel your blood begin to boil with his distrust (even though HE is in YOU home).

“Okay dude, I get you don’t know me or whatever but you guys literally broke into my house, so if anyone is supposed to be cautious here it’s me. M. E. Me. I’m offering your… children…? Adult babies? Boys? Food, and damnit if they want it then they’re gonna eat it.” Your little outburst gets you several shocked looks, but you’re so FUCKING tired, you’ve just got no energy to deal with this.

“We 'broke into your house’?” He repeats slowly, “I have no recollection of our relocation to your… house, and I’ve never seen someone of your caliber, nor a place so… odd, before. So forgive me if I am skeptical of our suspiciously willing host.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm, and it successfully ruffles your self control.

“Now you listen here Mr. Broody, I’m not about to get sass in my own home. By god if Penny didn’t seem to love you so much I would vaporize you where you stand!” Big talk for such a small person, yes, but you stand by your statement.

Only you don’t get the reaction you were expecting, because suddenly everyone looks horrified.

“You can do that?” One of the small blond boys(?) gasps, scooting closer to his look-alike.

The guy you were mouthing off to grabs the hilt of his -is that a fucking sword?!- weapon and steps in front of the small guys. The tall blond dude, other actual human, and short ginger haired man do the same, and suddenly you feel a lot less satisfied.

“Woah there fellas, It’s a figure of speech!” You say quickly, raising your hands in a surrender motion.

Penny senses your sudden distress, so she bounds over to you and presses her nose against your knee in a way meant to gather your attention. You glance down at her and visibly relax before looking back up at the still tense men in front of you.

“Tough crowd…” You reach down slowly and pat Penny’s head, watching as their eyes follow your movements. “Okay, look. I’m not going to like, poison you or whatever you’re afraid of. How about we start with introductions, hm?"

The same guy from before nods his head slowly (it seems he’s the leader here) and tells you a little hesitantly, "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. A Ranger, also known as Strider by most."

What in the ever loving hell did he just say?

You can’t even stop the laughter from bellowing out of you, because this is just so god damn ridiculous and completely baffling. You grasp your stomach and double over with laughter while everyone else just watches silently and confusedly.

Eventually your laughter begins to subside when your sides start to hurt, so you stand up a bit straighter and wipe a tear from the corner of your eye, "Ahaha, ah… wow that’s good. But really though, I’m not looking for stage names bud, I’m being serious here.”

This 'Aragorn’ doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do. “Stage names? No, I believe you are misunderstanding.”

The smile on your face drops and you suddenly don’t find it as funny either. “So… your name is actually Aragorn then?” Well, maybe not all of them have weird names, “Right, then what about the rest of you?"

The other guy who looks like an actual human speaks up next, "I am Boromir, son of Denethor and Captain of Gondor.” Oh heck.

Blondie comes up next, “I am Legolas from the woodland realm.”

Shortie #1, “Gimli Son of Gloin."

The small dark haired man child comes forward, "I am Frodo Baggins, and these are my friends Samwise Gamgee, Peregrin Took, and Meriadoc Brandybuck."

"What the-” you pause and cover Penny’s ears, “Fuck is all of this?"

It seems your actions amuse the taller dudes because their stand-offish demeanors diminish as they seem to deem you harmless (I mean who covers their dogs ears when cursing? Clearly you’re pathetic).

"I’m afraid I don’t know what to tell you.” Mr. Aragorn states.

“Well, start with where you come from, maybe?”

They all share a look before 'Legolas’ states, “We come from Middle Earth and have just traveled through the Mines of Moria."

You literally don’t know what any of that means.

"Well, alright. Right now, I can tell you that you’re on Regular Earth and in my living room.” You don’t mean to be so sarcastic, but both the functional and rational parts of your brain are failing you big time, “Do you know how you got here?"

You get 8 respective no’s, and while you expected that, it’s no less frustrating. "Shoulda seen that one coming, I guess."

The Gimli character looks you up and down and asks in his gruff voice, "And what about you, you’ve not told us who you are."

"Oh, right, my bad. I’m Y/N, and this cutie,” you reach down and pick up Penny’s front paws from the ground and wave them at the group, “Is Penny. She is the softest, sweetest, and cutest doggo you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. Disrespect her and there will be consequences."

You stand back up and pat Penny’s head, watching as they all nod their understanding and appear rather nervous suddenly.

"That was also a joke.”

Most of them relax.

You tap your foot a few times and seem to think over your options, looking away from them and out the window.

Clearly there is something very wrong going on here, so you can’t just throw them out, but at the same time you don’t have enough energy to deal with this today. And there’s the very real possibility that they could be psychos. But there’s also the fact that they seem to be a little worse for wear, some of them have puffy eyes, and is that blood? Their disheveled and tired appearances tug at your heart strings, and you find yourself wanting to help them.

“Okay, against my better judgement I have decided that I’m going to welcome the lot of you into my house until we can figure out what the hell is going on here.” This seems to surprise Aragorn and his two tall besties. “I don’t know why… but something is telling me that I should help you out, so I guess that’s what I’m going to do.”

Two of the small blond ones smile brightly, but you haven’t finished yet.

“But!” Their smiles drop and everyone seems rather serious again, “If any of you try anything funny or start any trouble, I will kick all of you out. I don’t know any of you, and you all have weapons. So if I’m gonna let you stay then you’re going to have to behave.”

“Miss Y/N, you do not have to-” Aragorn begins, but you put up your hand and shake your head.

“It’s fine. Just please don’t break anything, and if Penny wants head pats you had better give them to her."

It seems your rules are fair enough, because you get 8 more head nods.

The two small people attack the snack you made finally, and you find that you can’t help but to laugh a bit.

A thought then strikes you, "Oh!"

Everything pauses and every looks at you again, more alert, but you just roll your eyes at how on edge they are.

"I was just going to say that I have two bathrooms is anyone wants to wash up.”

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liskantope · 4 years

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Some brief (and sometimes not-so-brief) reactions to major Disney films 1937-1967

Around a month ago I made a temporary switch from Netflix to Disney+ with the goal of watching all major Disney movies in order, roughly paced so that one year of Disney film-making equals one day of real life. I should clarify here that by “major Disney movies” I mean mostly just all the animated ones plus a few hybrid live-action/animated ones, and a few of the most popular live-action ones (at least the ones I remember having a song considered good enough to feature on one of the Disney Sing-Along videos, a staple of my video-watching as a kid growing up in the 90′s). I would have been interested to see Song of the South, which I’ve never seen in its entirety, but it’s not included on Disney+ for fairly obvious reasons. As I get further into modern Disney, I’ll probably skip over most of the sequels and other features I strongly expect not to like (with the exception of Belle’s Magical World, which is said to be so legendarily bad that I just have to see what the fuss is about).

This time range of three decades happens to include more or less exactly those Disney productions that Walt Disney himself took a major role in (he died shortly before the final version of Jungle Book was finished). I’d like to do this again in another month, when I will have gotten up through the late 90′s, but honestly this post wound up way longer than I was imagining and took several more hours than I expected (or could really afford), so I’m not promising myself or anyone else that.

Looking at Wikipedia’s list of Disney productions, I’m a little taken aback at what a low percentage of these are animated features, which to me form the backbone of that company’s legacy; visually scanning the list makes the line of animated films look shorter than I had always imagined, but really what this is showing is that Disney produced far more live-action movies than I ever knew about, including (and perhaps especially!) in its early days. Right now I’m continuing on through the 70′s films, but this set of mini-reviews represents the first month of watching and three decades of Disney magic.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, 1937

This is the full-length feature that began them all and which had the burden of defying contemporary skepticism that a full-length animated feature could be taken seriously at all. We are already far beyond the earliest days of animation and have progressed lightyears beyond the quality of “Steamboat Willie”; throughout the film I marveled at the sophistication of the animation with a newfound appreciation of how groundbreaking a lot of the sequences must have been.

I know I watched this at least a couple of times in childhood and I think once when I was a bit older, but even that was long ago.

Snow White is based on one of the simpler classic fairy tales, and the writers had to come up with ways to flesh out this very short story enough to occupy well over an hour. This was done not by exploring the character of Snow White or the Queen or even filling in extra plot details (the fate of the hunter is never addressed) but by spending a lot of time on the dwarfs. The detail spent on individuating them took a lot of work from the animators, but I think their efforts paid off. I can’t say the same about the attention paid to Snow White or the Queen (pretty much the only remaining characters). Snow White has an almost entirely flat personality, with no sense of curiosity or concern whatsoever about the Queen’s designs to have her killed, just having literally only one goal in mind: to marry this Prince who she’d only seen for about two minutes and run away from out of shyness. (This is of course a trend we’ll see with Disney princesses for a long time.) The Queen similarly only has the goal of being “the fairest in the land”. Something about the particular harshness of her voice strikes me as The Quintessential 1930′s Female Villain Voice (“I’ll crush their bones!”), whatever that means -- maybe I got my idea of what this should be from the movie Snow White in the first place.

I still think “Heigh Ho” (which I’ve known well since early childhood) is an excellent song in its utter simplicity, especially when complimented with the “Dig Dig Dig” song (which I did not remember at all until a few years ago when a Tumblr mutual posted the excerpt containing it!). I’m not enormously fond of “One Day My Prince Will Come”, although I did enjoy playing it on the violin at a couple of gigs with one of my musician friends back during grad school -- I was convinced then, and up until watching Snow White just now, that it belonged to Cinderella.

Pinocchio, 1940

This was a favorite movie of mine in earlier childhood; we owned the VHS and I watched it a lot. As a child, I had no sense of one Disney movie coming from a much earlier time than another one; it was only much more recently in life that I understood that Pinocchio really comes from all the way back eight decades ago. Pinocchio taught me the meaning of “conscience” (both in the dictionary sense and in a deeper sense), and it shaped my notion of what fairies may look like -- for instance, my mental picture of the Tooth Fairy, back when I believed in her, was inspired by the Blue Fairy in Pinocchio.

It’s amazing just how much the quality of Disney animated features improved from the first one to this one, the second. It helps that both the story and the characters are far more complex than those of Snow White. The plot from the original book (which I’ve read in Italian and English) was more complex still, of course. There is one gaping hole where it’s never explained how Gepetto somehow found himself in the belly of a whale (I don’t remember whether or how this is explained in the book), but I’ll forgive that.

It’s interesting to see the 1940′s caricature of “bad (early teenage?) boy” shown in the animation and voice of Lampwick. Phantom Strider talks about the turning-into-donkeys scene as a notoriously dark scene for adults who didn’t find it as terrifying when they were children -- count me in as one of those adults! It’s especially terrifying to see the whole mass of boys-turned-donkeys being treated as slaves in the hellhole known as Pleasure Island and realizing that this is never going to be resolved in the movie -- it’s rather unusual in Disney stories for some great evil to be left unresolved with no recompense even for the chief villain. In fact, Pinocchio is pretty much the only Disney story I can think of where the worst villain doesn’t meet some kind of dire fate. Really, the range of Pinocchio’s view is much narrower: it’s just the coming-of-age story of one puppet in his quest for Real Boyhood. (And yes, I still giggle at how intricutely Jordan Peterson analyzes particular scenes from the movie to support his beliefs about neo-Marxism or whatever.)

Disney+ heads many of the descriptions of the older movies with “This program is presented as originally created. It may contain outdated cultural depictions.” I’m a little surprised they don’t do this with Pinocchio, given what appears to me a rather derogatory depiction of Gypsies.

“When You Wish Upon a Star” has become a timeless hit, for good reason. And I still find “Hi Diddle Dee Dee” extremely catchy.

Fantasia, 1940

I saw this one multiple times growing up (for earlier viewings, I was not allowed to see the final number “Night on Bald Mountain”). My mom, for her part, saw this in theaters at the age of around 4 (even though it originally came out long before she was born) and thought for years afterwards that there was no such film in real life and her memory of seeing it had been just a pleasant dream.

I have nothing much more to say about this one except that, representing a very different approach from most animated films, Disney or otherwise, 1940′s or otherwise, it succeeded exquisitely. The “Sorcerer’s Apprentice” number was particularly perfection; it was as though the composer originally had every motion of the story in mind when writing the music. At the same time, having the main character appear in the form of Mickey Mouse in some way seems to cheapen the effect.

The Reluctant Dragon, 1941

I watched this for the first time, not having known it existed. There isn’t really much to say. All that stuck in my mind was one of the shorts, “Baby Weem” (amusing in a disturbing way), and the longer segment which gives the movie its title (also amusing, in a different kind of disturbing way). It was especially interesting to see a 1940′s cartoon portrayal of a very effeminate man, or should I say, male dragon.

Dumbo, 1941

I saw this maybe two or three times growing up, and not in very early childhood. It was never one of my favorites. Later on, I learned that it was done very low-budget to make up for major financial losses in the Disney franchise. This definitely shows in the animation. However, if there’s one thing I can say in praise of Dumbo, it’s that it’s incredibly daring in its simplicity, not only to have such elegantly simple animation but in having a mute title character (instead the main “talker” in the film is the title character’s best friend, who had much more of a New York accent than I’d remembered).

In some ways I find this film incredibly cold and dark by Disney standards, for reasons I can’t entirely explain, and I remember feeling this way even on earlier watchings when I was much younger. The stark cruelty of the humans running the circus, as well as the elephants other than Dumbo and his mother, just really gets to me. (I vividly mis-remembered one of the lines I found most memorable in childhood as “From now on, Dumbo is no longer one of us.” The actual line is, “From now on, [Dumbo] is no longer an elephant”, which in a way, is even more chilling.) In this regard, there was no need to make a modern, woker remake of Dumbo containing an explicit anti-animal-exploitation message -- the 1941 version conveys this message loud and clear. Now that I’m writing this, I suppose it could be argued that this is another instance of what I described under “Pinocchio” of leaving a major evil unresolved in a Disney film. And apart from that, while the ending for Dumbo is meant to be a very happy one, as an adult I find it incredibly naive: Dumbo is now super internationally famous for his extraordinary gift and is entering the life of a child celebrity, and it’s just going to be smooth sailing from now on? I hate to say it, Dumbo, but your troubles are only just beginning. (I was glad to see Dumbo reunited with his mother in the last scene, however, which I hadn’t remembered happening at all.)

“Look Out For Mr. Stork” is a skillfully-written song I’d completely forgotten about for two decades or so but remember knowing well when I was young. I still think “When I See an Elephant Fly” is a fantastic song, especially with all its reprises at the end -- I’d had some bits of it confused in my memory but had kept the main chorus with me over all the years. Now it’s widely decried as racist, or at least the characters who sing it are decried as racist caricatures. For whatever my opinion is worth, I’m inclined to disagree with this, in particular on the grounds that the crows seem to be the most intelligent, witty, and self-possessed characters in the movie. I’m also pretty sure I heard critical things about it over the years which are false. For one thing, not all of the crows are played by white actors -- only the lead crow is, while the rest of the voices are members of a black musical group called the Hall Johnson Choir. Also, I’m not clear that the lead crow was actually named Jim Crow by the time the movie came out (no name is given in the movie itself). Now an earlier, much more forgettable song featuring black men singing about how they like to work all day and they throw their pay away... yeah that seems awfully racist.

Bambi, 1942

I have surprisingly little to say about this one -- it’s just very distinct from other Disney films of the time, in its story’s lack of magical elements, its characters all being animals and animated in to realistically model animals’ movements, its lack of musical numbers, and its plot reaching the same level of simplicity as that of Snow White. Not to mention actually having a benevolent character die, which I don’t think had been done up to that point. I remember watching this a couple of times as a kid; I was never terribly eager to watch it again and I feel the same way now, despite having majestic beauty that I can really appreciate.

The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, 1949

This is the first of Disney’s animated features that I never had seen before. What a strange movie, or should I say, two smaller, unrelated movies rolled into one. I liked Mr. Toad’s half better than Ichabod’s half, or at least I found it more entertaining. I was brought up with the book The Wind in the Willows and recall seeing a non-Disney animated rendition of it (which was better and somewhat more thorough than this half-movie-length rendition). I was kind of excited when the “The Merrily Song” started because it unlocked a song from my early-childhood memory that I’d forgotten about for more than twenty years but knew from one of the Disney Sing-Along videos. I still think it’s a not half bad song, especially with the harmony.

The Ichabod story was not at all what I expected, not being familiar with the original book version (I had always assumed that Ichabod must be the name of a villain). I found it completely boring until the final horror sequence. As a child I would have found the courtship part even more boring (at least now I can muse on how man-woman courtship dynamics were shown in the late 40′s), and I would have found the horror part at the end very scary (in fact, maybe this is the reason my parents never showed the movie to me). It is a little shocking in being the only Disney story I’ve seen so far with a decidedly unhappy ending.

Cinderella, 1950

This one I only ever saw once or twice as a child. This is not counting a very vivid memory I have from around age 6 or 7 when I was watching a part of it over at another family’s house and their child, who was almost my age and nonverbal autistic, rewound and repeated the same 2-minute sequence involving the mice for probably about an hour (I was impressed because I at the time didn’t know how to work the controls of a video player).

I suppose this could be considered the second in the main trifecta of the most conservative fairy tale princess stories that Disney did in the earlier part of its history. I think one can argue that Cinderella has the strongest and most fleshed-out character out of those three princesses. I like the spirited internal strength she reveals in her very first scene. That said, like the other earlier princesses, she seems to have one singular goal in life, and that is to find her true love, not, say, to escape her abusive stepmother and stepsisters.

My reaction to this movie is overall positive. The mice were fun (I also like how their voices seemed a lot more like how mice “should” talk than in most other Disney cartoons); the dynamic between Cinderella and her evil relatives, and the dynamic between the stepmother and stepsisters themselves, was shown in a rounded way; and the fairy godmother is a great character despite having only one scene. The character of the king is pretty odd (very selfish yet his main dream is of getting to play with his future grandchildren) while not especially memorable or well fleshed out. There are certainly some great classic songs in this one -- not the most stellar that Disney has ever produced, but solid.

Alice in Wonderland, 1951

I was curious about what I would think of this one, since we owned the video of this at my home growing up and I watched it many times during childhood but as I got older I fell in love with the original Lewis Carroll books which, together, I often consider my favorite work of written fiction ever. I had not seen the Disney film Alice in Wonderland for around two decades, although I made the mistake of catching parts of more modern, live-action adaptations of the story more recently. I wondered what I would make of the old animated Disney adaptation after getting to know the books so well.

There is simply no way that any movie can recreate the true flavor of the books, but Disney’s Alice in Wonderland does a fine job of creating the general nonsensical, sometimes bewildering dream atmosphere, and, perhaps more importantly, capturing the essence of Alice’s personality. I give a lot of credit to Katherine Beaumont for this -- she has the major girl’s role in the next movie on this list as well, but she especially shines as Alice. Two other very distinctive voices, Ed Wynn as the Mad Hatter and Sterling Holloway as the Cheshire Cat, also add a lot to the cast of characters.

While mixing around some of the scenes of the original book Alice in Wonderland, with some scenes of Alice Through the Looking Glass inserted, the progression of the plot is a long, dreamlike sequence of strange situations with only a few common threads, true to the original first book (Looking Glass had a little, but only a little, more structure). In the movie, everything breaks down at the end with many of the previous scenes and characters swirling together and Alice frantically trying to wake herself up. One could object that this is not how the dream ends in the book Alice in Wonderland, but there is a similar sort of breakdown at the end of the dream in Looking Glass and it feels very real somehow, as in my experience this is sometimes how vivid dreams disintegrate.

Oh, and did you know that Alice in Wonderland has a greater number of songs in it than any other Disney film? There are nearly 25 that made it into the film, even if lasting just for seconds, with a around 10 more written for the film that didn’t make it.

So, does the Disney film do a good job of conveying one of my favorite books of all time, within the confines of being a children’s animated film? I would say yes. For reasons I described above, and from the fact that it manages to avoid working in a moral lesson for Alice, or depicting Alice as a young adult, or manufacturing an affair between Alice and the Hatter (ugh), like some film adaptations, I would say that this classic Disney version is the best Alice in Wonderland adaptation that I know of.

Peter Pan, 1953

Although I never knew this one super well, this movie has a special place in my heart from the way the flying sequence enchanted me in early childhood. I have to differ with the YouTuber Phantom Strider when he dismisses the 40′s/50′s-style song “You Can Fly” as just not doing it for him, because that song along with the animation of the characters’ journey to Neverland had a major hand in shaping my early-childhood sense of magic and wonder and yearning. I distinctly remembering a time, around age 6, when I just didn’t see much point in watching other Disney movies, or movies at all, which didn’t have flying in them, because what could possibly top the sheer joy and freedom of feeling able to swim through the air? I’ve had hardly any exposure to Superman, and so the kind of bodily flight I imagined in fantasy or performed in dreams was almost entirely shaped by Peter Pan. (At the same time, the crocodile in Peter Pan influenced my nightmares at the same age.)

I only ever saw this one a few times, but I distinctly remember the most recent of them being when I was a teenager, perhaps even an older teenager, and I remember thinking at the time that it was a pretty darn solid Disney movie. I still think the same now, while granting that some aspects of the movie seem a little antiquated and certain sequences with the Native Americans are quite cringe-worthy from the point of view of modern sensibilities. Only a couple years ago, when visiting my parents’ house, I finally took down the book Peter Pan from the shelf and decided to give it a read and found it a beautiful although slightly strange and offbeat story. In particular, I was shocked at how nasty and vengeful Tinker Bell was (particularly in trying to get Wendy killed), when I had remembered her as sweet and naive in the movie. It turns out I was wrong about the movie -- Tinker Bell tries to get Wendy killed there also! -- but somehow the tone is moderated well enough that in this version I never really feel horrified at her behavior, nor do I feel disturbed at the situation of the Lost Boys in the way the book made me view them. The song of the lone pirate who sings about how a pirate’s life is short, right before Captain Hook fires his gun and we hear a dropping sound followed by a splash, is one of the more masterful executions of dark humor that I’ve seen in Disney animation for children.

While most of the songs in Peter Pan, considered as songs on their own, are pretty good, I think the best one is the one whose lyrics didn’t make it into the film: “Never Smile at a Crocodile”.

Lady and the Tramp, 1955

Despite being more obscure than most of the old Disney animated classics, I used to know this one quite well since we had it in our home. I’ve always considered The Great Mouse Detective as the most underrated Disney film of all time, but I think it has serious competition here. Lady and the Tramp is an absolute gem. While not quite as Disney-fantasy-ish with its lack of magic and other fairy tale elements, in my opinion Lady and the Tramp is, in most ways, superior to everything else on this list save Mary Poppins. Beautiful animation which shows Lady and most of the other animals moving realistically in a way we haven’t seen since Bambi*. Everything visually and conceptually framed from the dogs’ points of view. Great voice acting. Consistently solid dialog without a single line too much or missing. A story evoking the dynamic between humans and pets, class inequality, and deep questions about the place of each of us in society and choices between a stable existence among loved ones and striking out to seize life by the horns. Our first female lead who stands on her own two four feet and whose sole goal isn’t to get kissed by her true love (one could argue that Alice was the earlier exception, but she is a little girl whereas Lady is actually a romantic female lead). When Lady is approached by her two best (male) friends in a very awkward (perhaps especially from a modern sensibility) but sweet scene where they offer to be her partner, Lady makes it clear that she doesn’t want or need a husband just for the sake of having a husband to make babies with -- her standing up for her own wants in this way doesn’t in the least turn into a Moral Stand that dominates the movie. Excellent music all the way through.

Oh, and this movie was my very first introduction, in early childhood, to the Italian language (”Bella Notte”), which some 25 years later sort became my second language of sorts.

Criticisms? Well, the baby was animated rather stiffly and unnaturally, but that was like half a minute of the movie at most. And there’s the whole segment with the Siamese cats, which produced a great song purely music-wise (fun fact: Peggy Lee provided the voices of the cats) but nowadays comes across as rather racist. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I will say that I’m sure in the minds of the creators this was no different than having animals of all other nationalities (Scottish, Russian, Mexican) appearing in the film with voices reflecting the respective accents.

*There may be a few exceptions, like Peggy, who seems to be modeled after the musician Peggy Lee and moves like a sexy human woman. The way that human sex appeal is conveyed through the animals’ movements in this movie is quite impressive: my mom confesses to having somewhat of a crush on Tramp growing up and not quite understanding how that could be possible when, well, he’s a dog.

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, 1954, and Old Yeller, 1957

I don’t want to say about these movies, as they don’t really fall under the category of animated classics. I just want to say that, while I saw each of them once growing up, on seeing them again I recognize each as a great movie in its own adult point of view way that is not necessarily very Disney-ish.

Sleeping Beauty, 1959

I think this was the movie I was watching at the time I decided it would be fun to write a bunch of mini-reviews for Tumblr, as my reactions were changing a lot as I was watching. I went into the movie very curious, because while I only remembered enough of the fairy tale story to know that it was another of the very simple ones, and I remembered the one song as a waltz by Tchaikovsky, and I knew I had seen the movie once (and probably only once) as a kid, I couldn’t remember anywhere near enough to possibly fill a full movie time. What was actually going to happen in this hour-and-a-quarter long film?

I wasn’t watching long before I came up with the description “spectacularly forgettable”, in part to justify why I’d managed to forget practically all of my one previous viewing. The story doesn’t have much substance and feels sillier than even the other fairy tale Disney plots, like even minor twinges of critical thought, even granting the magical rules of the universe, are liable to make the plot topple. There is some filler to flesh out the movie, but (unlike with Snow White’s dwarfs) none of it is as amusing as the creators seemed to think it was. The only characters with actual personality are rather boring -- the capers between the members of royalty and the jester are a bit on the annoying side in my opinion. Maleficent seems to have no motive whatsoever. She actually calls herself something like “the mistress of evil” later in the movie. This is pretty black-and-white even by Disney standards, where the bad guys usually at least want to think that they’re on the right side of things or justified in their aggressive behavior. Aurora (the title character) has the least personality of all the Disney princesses. Literally all I can say to describe her is that she has the Disney Princess Trifecta of characteristics: she has a good singing voice; she is friends with all the “nice” animals; and her only goal in life is to be reunited with her True Love who she met once for all of a few minutes. The reason why I couldn’t remember any songs other than the Tchaikovsky one is that there aren’t any.

The one thing I consciously really enjoyed while watching was the fact that the score throughout was Tchaikovsky; the idea of having one work of classical music as the entire score seems like a bold one for a Disney film. As I was digesting the movie afterwards (and watching the short documentaries supplied on Disney+ helped here!), I came to realize that this classical music backdrop was complimented in quite an interesting way by a fairly unique animation style. I had been disappointed by the animation early in my watching, disliking how a lot of the figures in the beginning castle scene (for instance, various people’s faces), looked very “flat” somehow. But I’ve come to see this as part of a style where everything looks almost like a series of cut-outs superimposed on each other, to incredibly beautiful effect in a lot of the outdoor scenes.

My conclusion? If you watch this the same way you watch most Disney animated movies -- focusing on plot, characterization, action, and meaning of the main story -- it will just be kind of forgettable at best. But if you watch it as more of a purely visual and musical piece of art without trying to make much “sense” out of it (so, more like I would watch a ballet), you may find it uniquely beautiful among Disney classics.

One Hundred and One Dalmations, 1961

Whew -- what a complete and utter contrast from its predecessor! I can hardly imagine a film that’s still distinctively Disney while being more different from Sleeping Beauty in every aspect.

I remember seeing One Hundred and One Dalmatians a handful of times in childhood (when I was around 5 and it had just come out on home video, my mom almost bought it for me but decided to go with Beauty and the Beast instead explaining that it had better music -- I grew up knowing the preview for Dalmatians that showed at the beginning of our Beauty and the Beast VHS than the dalmatians film itself). I remembered a number of scenes very distinctly, including a lot of the Horace and Jasper bickering and Cruella smashing one of their bottles of beer into the fire and knew Lucky’s line after getting stuck behind in the snow almost word for word, while I had entirely forgotten all of the country/farm characters and entire sequences involving them. I had forgotten, but soon remembered, the television scenes including the Kanine Krunchies jingle. (Some years later, I think as an older teenager, I read the original book with some interest.)

Although I wasn’t around in 1961, everything about this movie’s style strikes me as very contemporary -- the animation in particular seems like the current style for 60′s cartoons. Something about the dialog and humor feels that way as well, as though it closely represents a sort of 60′s young-people-in-London culture that I’ve never seen myself (I was struck for instance by Cruella being asked how she’s doing and cheerfully answering, “Miserable dahling as usual, perfectly wretched!”). It was a little strange and offputting to see television so prominently featured in Disney animation from so long ago, and to see such a decrepit bachelor pad (with the accompanying lifestyle and attitudes) as Horace and Jasper’s in a children’s movie. The crazy driving in snow at the end startled my adult sensibilities (as I now have some memorable experiences driving in snow) in a way that didn’t affect me as a child -- scenes like that just didn’t feel like Disney after having just watched all the previous films. All in all, these novel features made the whole movie a wild ride.

I’m bemused by the fact that, despite taking place in London (which I hadn’t remembered -- I thought it took place in America), the only accents which are fully British are those of the villains Cruella de Vil, Horace, and Jasper.

Main criticisms: I found all the stuff with Rolly being characterized by his body shape and only ever thinking about food to be in poor taste (although not surprising for the times). And while “Cruella de Vil” is a great jazz number, the movie has no other music to speak of -- my mom was quite right to choose Beauty and the Beast over it.

(I realized when finishing this review that this is the only one of all the movies in the list that I’d actually enjoy seeing again sometime soon. Not sure what to make of that. Something about it is more interesting than most of the others? Especially the human-centric parts?)

The Sword in the Stone, 1963

I never saw this movie until later childhood or maybe even early teenagerhood, when I quite liked it. On watching it again, I was overall pretty disappointed. This movie has some decent songs and some fun aspects to the story, but a lot of it is kind of weak and forgettable and it’s all just sloppily done.

The story has a clear moral message which is generally pro-education and about reaching one’s full potential, but in my eyes it comes out kind of muddled because the story shows Wart ending up as a legendary king only out of the arbitrary happenstance that that happens to be his divine destiny. Merlin’s motives seem kind of inconsistent as well, with him sometimes seeming to support Wart in his desire to become a squire, then flying off in a rage when Wart chooses squirehood over fulfilling a “greater” destiny, then joyfully returning after Wart pulls the sword from the stone and is now set on the fixed path to being king, even though this involved exactly zero change of attitude on Wart’s part. The message that actually comes across looks more like, “We have to just follow whatever fate has in store for us” than “We must strive to be the best we can be”. And, it arguably even comes across as subtly disrespectful to more mundane lifestyles and career paths.

The animation is not great by the high standard of full-length Disney features (I noted how I especially disliked how tears were shown). Wart’s voice seems to change a lot, sometimes broken and sometimes not yet broken. I found out after watching that this is because the character was played by three different actors, sometimes with more than one of those actors in the same scene! This was purportedly because the voice of the first actor cast for the role started to change, but then why does Wart sometimes sound like his voice has already changed anyway? Sloppiness all around.

Still, some parts of The Sword in the Stone are fun even if none of it is stellar, and it entertained me more when I was younger, so worth watching once, especially if you’re a kid, I guess?

Mary Poppins, 1964

I came into this one far more familiar with it than with most of the other Disney movies, including the ones I watched many times when I was young, so it feels a little strange to try to summarize a similar-length review of it. Mary Poppins is in my book without a doubt one of the top three Disney movies of all time, in some respects the very best, and certainly the masterpiece of Walt Disney himself, the culmination of literally decades of determination on his part to turn Pamela Travers’ children’s works into a movie. (I would feel sorrier for Travers about how strongly Disney twisted her arm to turn her books into a movie whose style was entirely antithetical to hers, if it weren’t for the fact that the Disney version of the story is just way better than her rather weak set of stories. I give Travers ample credit for having created an amazing character in the person of Mary Poppins, but for coming up with good stories, not so much.)

I didn’t see the full movie Mary Poppins until later childhood (although I knew many of the songs) and it quickly became a favorite of mine. I went a gap of a number of years without seeing it before I copied the soundtrack from someone when I was in college, which spurred me to go out and rent it (back when Blockbuster was a thing) and so I managed to reconnect with it at the age of 20. More recently I’ve become somewhat of a Mary Poppins enthusiast -- feeling pretty alone among my generation in this regard, with the possible exception of the theater subculture -- having seen probably most or all of the documentaries there are on its production and learned a ridiculous amount of trivia about it, not to mention knowing the whole soundtrack pretty much in my head.

Mary Poppins seems to be Disney’s longest children’s classic, at 2 hours and 19 minutes. All it lacks, really, is an animal-themed or classic fairy tale atmosphere and a proper villain. But what can you get out this movie? Stellar child acting (especially for that period) and excellent performances all around, apart from some awkward but endearing aspects of Dick Van Dyke’s acting (while his singing and physicality is superb). A complex and multi-layered story combining magic, comedy and a little tragedy, appreciable in equal measure from a child’s level and from an adult’s level. Revolutionary special effects which include the first extended hybrid live-action and animation sequence. Timeless words and phrases which have permanently entered the lexicon. One of my favorite extended musical sequence of all time in any movie (”Step In Time” takes up 8 minutes and change, and I’m glad they didn’t go with the “common sense” measure of cutting this “unnecessarily long” number). The Sherman brothers at their very best, in a musical soundtrack that easily scores in my top two out of all Disney movies (the other one being The Lion King). A beautiful message (among several big messages) about the little things being important (or at least, that’s a very crude summary), exquisitely encapsulated in the most beautiful song of the movie, “Feed the Birds” (this apparently became Walt Disney’s favorite song ever, and I’m pretty close to feeling the same way -- I’m determined that one day when I finally have a piano I’m going to learn to sing it along with the piano). I could go on and on here.

If I try really hard I can come up with the sole nitpick of feeling that maybe the parrot head on the umbrella’s handle shouldn’t only reveal itself as a talking parrot head in only one scene right at the very end -- this should have been shown at least once earlier. Even granting that, this film is still practically perfect in every way.

The Jungle Book, 1967

(Let’s get the Colonel Hath in the room out of the way first: “The Jungle Book” is a terrible title for a movie. You know, when you base a movie on a book you don’t have to give it the same title as the book...)

I saw The Jungle Book several times as a kid and, despite not considering it nearly as good as Mary Poppins, similarly reconnected with it in adulthood (particularly the soundtrack). Only several years ago I found myself thinking of getting hold of a double album of classic Disney songs that I thought I’d heard about but couldn’t seem to find online. It soon occurred to me that mostly what I really wanted was some of the songs of The Jungle Book, so I got that movie’s soundtrack instead. I soon learned for the first time that The Jungle Book’s songs were written by the Sherman Brothers*, precipitating an “Ah, that explains why I remember them as so good!” moment. (“I Wanna Be Like You” seems like the clear winner among the songs.) Of course hearing the soundtrack made me curious about the movie, which I did eventually get hold of several years ago; thus I had seen this film exactly once already since childhood.

It says a lot about the music and the overall technique behind this film that I still look back on it as one of the great classics, considering how weak the story is. In particular, I consider a story arc to be pretty flawed when characters that seem significant and/or memorable come in without really living up to their expected big role: the wolves who raised Mowgli play a crucial role in the beginning before more or less disappearing (and it doesn’t entirely make sense to me why Bagheera, rather than they, is guiding him to the man village), and King Louie (who is a well-formed character that I particularly enjoy watching) really ought to come back into the story later somehow (an alternate, and much more complex, ending had him make a reappearance). The villain Shere Khan is not especially well developed in terms of his character and motives, but I do enjoy his menacingly bass voice. Still, the voice acting, the action, the animation, and the overall setting are all very solid here.

I’ll end with some random observations about the song “That’s What Friends Are For”. I think the likeness of the vultures to the Beatles was mostly lost on me as a kid (along with the recognition that this movie came out in the Beatles’ heyday). More interestingly, even when I was old enough to understand how vultures eat, the fact that every single line of the song is a clever macabre double-entendre went completely over my head. I do think it was a very obvious mistake, by the Obvious Standards of Cinematography, to give Shere Khan the last line of the song and begin that line with the “camera” on him, rather than have his voice come in “off-camera” and Mowgli and the vultures looking thunderstruck before panning to him, but maybe I shouldn’t be pushing for overdone techniques here.

* An exception is “Bare Necessities”, which was written by Terry Gilkyson, the original songwriter Disney received submissions from, who wrote two hauntingly beautiful other numbers which were deemed not Disney-ish enough to be put in the film.

Some general stray observations:

These older Disney films love gags involving alcoholism and drunkenness, a bit of a questionable emphasis given that the audience is children. This trend continues into the 80′s at least, but I don’t think one sees it much in modern Disney movies.

Watching these animated films I often find myself flinching as characters’ heads smash into things or gigantic objects smash over their heads, feeling almost surprised when they come out of it pretty much fine. I guess this a staple element of cartoon action throughout the decades, but I can’t recall a more recent Disney animated film where we see this (guess I’ll soon find out!)

There is a certain style of vocal music, with unified rhythm and lyrics but complex harmony and a capella, which seems to have been immensely popular in the 40′s and 50′s and distinctively appears in practically every single one of the 40′s and 50′s films above (“You Can Fly” is a typical example). I recognize it also from some non-Disney-related old records my parents have that were passed down to them. I’m curious about whether this style has a name.

For years I thought the Sherman Brothers did only the soundtrack for Mary Poppins and Bedknobs and Broomsticks, only discovering they did The Jungle Book songs rather recently as I explained above. It turns out they were involved in most of the major Disney films around that period, including The Sword in the Stone and The Aristocats (although not its best-known number “Everybody Wants to Be a Cat”).

There is a particularly sad instrumental passage, played by the string section starting with a minor-key violin melody going downward and joined by lower string instruments, which I knew well from my Jungle Book soundtrack (partway through “Poor Bear”) but was surprised to hear in desperately sad moments of several of the other movies around that time (including One Hundred and One Dalmatians and Robin Hood, or at least a close variant of this passage with slightly different endings). I have no idea who wrote this or how it came to be reused so many times.

I knew the name Bruce Reitherman as the voice of Mowgli in The Jungle Book, but in watching all of these other features back to back I’ve noticed that there are some other Reithermans in the front credits of quite a few of them.

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songsandsorcery · 4 years

Text

Basics ———

full name. Fizridge Flimflam nicknames. Fiz, Fizzy, Rizzy, Ridge, Fizdick, Fizbitch, "Boss" age. 132 race. Gnome gender. Cis Male sexuality. Pansexual, Male Pref marital status. Taken birthplace. Unknown. Discovered in Darkmoon’s woods as an infant. residence. Transient. The Finest’s caravans are usually found stationed within Stormwind’s walls at the Wollerton Stead. profession. Ringleader of Darkmoon’s Finest; Bard and entertainer.

About ———

height. 2′10″ hair color. Forest Green eye color. Pale Pink skin tone. Pale peach; sun-starved. body type. Stocky, fat. Functional muscle in his legs. Disarmingly quick on his feet. tattoos. Twin Darkmoon eyes on his shoulders. One large Darkmoon eye on his back. A large X on the back of his left palm, always hidden. common accessories. A lute on his back, carved of Darkmoon oak and humming with latent magical energy. A performer’s collar that holds his head up with a pseudo heretic’s fork that resembles Darkmoon’s iconography. A short dagger with a Darkmoon eye on its pommel. A headband that just-barely keeps his wild hair out of his eyes. A necklace of Dwarven design, bearing a valknut and tucked under his clothing. Never seen without gloves of any kind. familiars. A Darkmoon Eye that follows him everywhere he goes. A forest strider affectionately named “Plum” that serves as his mount.

Hooks ———

- The Darkmoon Devil: Fizridge has made quite the name for himself over the years. As a lifelong carnie, he is quite the common face around the fairegrounds and adores soaking up the limelight whenever it's in town. He is a common staple in juggling, fire-breathing, instrumental, vocal, and choreographed performances. Once headlined under the name The Darkmoon Devil, where he wove pyrotechnics into burlesque performances not for the faint of heart. Presently he is the ringleader Darkmoon’s Finest, a splinter troupe of the Faire that is a common staple at markets and the like. Has the following accolades under his belt: World’s Faire Carnival Pet Show Champion, World’s Faire Carnival Twerk-Off Champion, Beach Bomb Surf Champion. - Town Flirt: Once upon a time Fizridge was a notorious town flirt that was known to sleep around and tug on stranger's heartstrings for little more than his own amusement. Now with a troupe to take care of and a reputation to uphold, the gnome is far more content to take things slowly. It'd be no surprise if one night found your character in his company. - Troublemaker: Fizridge matches the description of a gnome that was once prosecuted for petty theft in a rather barbaric human settlement. This wouldn't be so interesting, if not for the fact that his tormentors mysteriously went missing a week later. Rumors abound regarding Silas Darkmoon’s participation in this act of carnie justice. After all: the Faire protects its own.

- Family Resemblance: If your gnome is a Gnomeregan native they might notice that Fizridge bears a striking resemblance to a pair of extremists that were well-known on the political scene for attempting to rig the Thermaplugg-Mekkatorque election. This couple was banished for their acts against the Gnomish government and the whole ordeal was something of a scandal. The nature of Gnomeregan’s political climate was that acts against the norm were treated with an air of sensationalism, primarily due to a gnome’s predisposition to act amicably along with the rather small population in comparison to other races.

Seeking ———

- Friends of the Faire: There’s been many a carnie, seasonal hire, client, and guest that Fizridge has made a friend with due to his tenure at the Faire! The nature of his job demands that he meet a lot of people, so it’d be no stretch of imagination for your character to be among them!

- Reconnecting With One’s Roots: Fizridge has never quite connected with his Gnomish roots. As far as he’s concerned, he’s more goblin than gnome! The bard can come off as rather combative to most gnomish cultural norms and doesn’t seem fit on budging on his opinions. Maybe your character can change his mind?

- Bad Blood: You don’t live a hundred years without making a few enemies! Spurned exes, performing partners, rival troupes ... ask me about starting a tiff between our characters!

- Alternate Continuities: I entertain quite a few continuities to allow myself the chance to write a wide variety of interactions! Want to ship in another continuity? I’m down! Want to write with my character in a different setting? You got it! Just PM me! ( AUs I have include: Defias / Westfall, shadow priest, Gnomeregan native. )

Art by Anzka Nguyen and Boz-Potatoz, respectively.

#moon guard #wyrmrest accord #world of warcraft #wow rp #world of warcraft rp #character profiles #fizridge flimflam #long post

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aedyre · 4 years

Text

Short ficlet about my Nerevarine not taking being inducted into the Blades very well.

----

Ashall isn’t really sure what he expected. Certainly not that something in his godsforsaken life might go right -- but this? This is a whole new level of wrong.

He stumbles away from Caius Cosades’ hovel more than he walks, and has half a mind to just get back into that Cornerclub and get drunk until he forgets about this entire mess, at least until morning.

He can almost hear nana lecturing him.

Not that it matters now, does it? Whatever she and granda had wanted for him, he’ll never be now. He’s pretty sure being a spy doesn’t count as making an honest living, after all.

He feels sick just thinking about it.

As a little boy, he dreamed about coming to Morrowind so often; to see the land of his ancestors and all its wonders, the exotic plants and animals so different from what they had in the Imperial City… even the Tribunal faith fascinated him, no matter how much his grandparents told him to forget about it. Now he’s here and all he can do is wish he was back in the City, back in that damn dungeon waiting another couple of months for the end of his sentence.

A sentence for a crime he has never committed in the first place.

He reaches the Cornerclub but keeps going, past it and across the bridge and back up the street, away from the Silt Strider until he finds a convenient set of stairs where he can be alone in his misery, and all but throws himself down on them. He doesn’t want to cry but the tears keep coming anyway and really, he thought he was past this after the first few weeks in prison.

What is the point of any of this, anyway? He isn’t spy material. He ended up in the dungeon because he’s a naive, trusting idiot and whoever looked at his records and decided he sounded like a good addition to the thrice-cursed Blades has to be just as stupid. The letter he was given with the package said his orders came straight from the Emperor himself, but that can’t be right. Unless the Emperor just lost it while he was in Oblivion, which is really the only explanation for why he’s here.

What he really needs to do is come up with some kind of plan -- Cosades had said to get a cover identity by joining one of the guilds, so… So what? None of them would want him. His skill with a blade barely makes it to “passable” -- granda tried to teach him but granda is also old, with a limp, and hasn’t fought since he was a young mer. His magic is likewise minuscule; he knows a healing spell he can only get to work half the time and what little he knows about both alchemy and enchanting comes entirely from the few books he was able to get his hands on, before… before.

The only thing he seems to be good at is ruining his bloody life.

He should have known. His father’s a criminal who left while he was still in the womb, and his mother was barely better, until she dumped him on her parents’ doorstep as a toddler -- to run away with some smuggler turned would-be-adventurer. Nothing his grandparents tried could have turned him into anyone worthwhile, and they were all deluding themselves thinking he’d ever amount to anything.

He really, really wishes he could stop crying, at least. His nose is runny and he’s having trouble breathing and he doesn’t have a handkerchief -- of course not -- so he just carelessly wipes it with his sleeve. It’s gross, but he’s had no other set of clothes for months now, anyway, so he’s pretty sure they can’t get worse than they already are.

“Here,” someone says and he almost jumps.

“Apologies,” the person -- another Dunmer, maybe middle aged -- adds, sounding almost a little amused. “I didn’t meant to startle you.” He’s holding out a small rag and Ashall just stares at it for a few seconds until he realizes what the stranger means.

“Uh, tha-- thank you,” he says and hesitantly takes it, half expecting the man to pull his hand away. He doesn’t.

Instead the stranger sits down next to him and patiently waits until he’s done with his nose.

“Sorry,” Ashall mutters and digs a nail in the crumbled fabric. He’s not entirely sure what to do with it now. Would the stranger even want it back?

“What for?” the man asks.

Ashall throws him a sideward glance. “For, uh, bothering you?” he offers.

The man shakes his head. “You’re not,” he replies and seems to want to say something else when a frown flickers across his face. “Is that your blood?”

Ashall blinks and follows the stranger’s gaze to his belly. Oh. Right. From when he’d cut down Foryn Gilnith. Bile rises in his throat again thinking about it; the man had been a murderer and tried to kill him, too, but… Still. Ashall’s never killed someone before. “No,” he answers. “Someone… attacked me.”

“In Balmora?” the stranger asks and he shakes his head. He’s almost surprised when the stranger nods and seems to relax a little instead of getting up and away or calling for one of the guards. Then again, the one guard that did question him about the blood splatters, earlier when he had just gotten off the Silt Strider, was satisfied with his explanation, too. Maybe they just aren’t as arrest happy here as in the City. The ones in Seyda Neen didn’t even want to look into the murder of one of their own countrymen, after all.

Still, he should probably look for a new shirt tomorrow with the gold Ergalla had given him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” the stranger asks and Ashall stares at him blankly. It’s not so much an issue of if he wants to, he thinks, but he can’t really explain that without explaining the spy thing and he’s reasonably sure you’re not supposed to tell people you’re a spy. Even if you’re being forced into it. Especially considering the warning Cosades had given him about betraying the organization.

“I’ll simply assume that coming here didn’t work out as well as you had hoped, then,” the man says and Ashall really doesn’t understand why he’s smiling. He nods anyway, cause it’s not wrong, it’s just… leaving out all the details. That he can’t talk about. Including how he didn’t hope to come here at all and mostly just spent the last few weeks terrified over being taken away from the City with no explanation.

So maybe it is wrong, just a little.

“Do you have a place to stay?” the stranger asks and gently pats him on the shoulder. It reminds Ashall a bit of granda.

“Um,” he says and mulls it over in his head. Cosades technically offered to let him sleep in his house, except Ashall doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw the man, which isn’t very far at all considering he’s not exactly in top physical condition. “I-- I was gonna rent a room, I suppose.”

Renting rooms would probably eat through the coin the Gilnith mess had gotten him quickly enough, but it’s better than sleeping on the street and waking up dead in a ditch.

Or. Well. Not waking up.

The man studies him for a moment. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“What,” Ashall says. Going home with strangers, even nice ones, doesn’t seem particularly safe either.

“To the temple,” the man explains and points further down the street, into darkness. Right. Ashall remembers having seen it from the Silt Strider platform, way at the end of the city.

It’s only now that he takes note of what the man is wearing -- robes. A priest then, perhaps? Maybe that’s why he’s so nice, too, though the way his grandparents always grumbled about the Tribunal faith, he hadn’t expected its priests to be nice at all.

“There are some beds currently free,” the priest says. “It wouldn’t be an issue to let you stay tonight.”

“I’m not even--” Ashall starts and then pauses. He shouldn’t say anything at all, but he’s an idiot as usual. “I don’t even know much about the Tribunal,” he admits and stares intently at the ground.

“Maybe you’ll learn something then,” the man answers and gets up with one hand still on Ashall’s arm. He doesn’t really know what to do but stand up with him.

“‘Kay,” he mutters instead of arguing further and follows the priest up the stairs.

#nerevarine #the nerevarine #the elder scrolls #morrowind #tes fanfic #jules.txt #ashall selris #a disaster babie that needs to be protected

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waitineedaname · 5 years

Text

Lightning Round, Take Two

kudos to @notedchampagne for inspiring this!!

also on ao3

“This is a terrible idea.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“She’s going to hate me.”

“She’ll love you.”

“Love me? Love me?!” Karkat all but shrieked. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this, Dave, but I don’t exactly make the best impressions! In fact, one might even say I make the worst impressions! We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t end this visit early because she can’t stand being around me because I have the personality of a deep seated pimple!”

“Damn. The kind it hurts to pop?”

“Yes! The kind of pimple that never forms a head and settles on your upper lip so it hurts every time you move your mouth! That’s what my personality is like: persistent, painful, and pus-filled!”

“The three P’s.” Dave mused, and Karkat shot him a scowl. “C’mon man, don’t sell yourself short. You’re like a blackhead at the worst.”

“Don’t pander to me, Strider.” Karkat grumbled and crossed his arms, but he didn’t complain when Dave slung his arm over his shoulders. “I still think this would go much better without me.”

“Nah, dude, trust me, this is the best option. I mean, best case scenario, if I did this by myself, she’d be like ‘omg do u have a bf’ and I’d be like ‘yeah’ because that’s part of what I’m tryna do here, tell folks about us, but then she’d want pictures even though she’s definitely met you, and then I’d have to show her all those cute pictures I took of you when you weren’t looking, and I know you don’t want that.”

“You what?”

“You didn’t hear that.”

Karkat rolled his eyes and leaned a little closer into Dave’s side, eyes tracing the little carapacian homes they were walking by. Dusk was falling, much to his relief; they both had to make compromises when they realized their species operated at different times of day, but he still avoided leaving the hive when the sun was glaring and ready to burn him to a crisp. Dave probably could’ve flown them all the way to Roxy and Calliope’s house, but Karkat hated making him carry him that far (Dave always insisted he wasn’t that heavy, but the strain in his voice never escaped Karkat’s notice), so they were walking the last few blocks. Karkat had a sneaking suspicion Dave was fine with walking because he was trying to delay the inevitable. He was nervous, if the way his fingers were tapping on Karkat’s upper arm or the way he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw said anything. Karkat sighed and unfolded his arms to wrap one around Dave’s waist.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, you know.” He said, surprising Dave into looking down at him.

“What? Who said I’m worried? You’re the one who’s been bitching the whole evening.”

“Because I want to make a good impression on your weird paradox ancestor, shit for brains. I’m saying you don’t need to be worried about coming out to her.” He met Dave’s eyes through his shades, something he’d gotten good at over the sweeps. “Of all fucking people, she’ll be the most fine with it. That’s why you’re telling her first, right?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just-” Dave sighed and looked away. He was better than he used to be, but holding eye contact was still hard for him, “It’s a big deal, you know? I mean, Rose probably figured it out from living in a confined space with us, and Dirk kinda got it out of context clues, but this is a first using the big B-word.”

“She’ll be fine. And if she isn’t, I’ll tear her apart and at least give her a reason to hate your boyfriend besides my shit-awful personality.”

“Aw, babe, I dunno whether to be flattered you’d attack my mom like a feral raccoon or bummed that you’re trashin’ yourself.”

“How about we compromise, and I’ll stop shit-talking myself if you stop stressing yourself out about this.”

“...Deal.”

“Good. Because I think that’s her house.”

“Oh shit.”

The two of them stopped just outside the elaborate building the carapacians had offered Roxy and Calliope back when they’d first arrived in the middle of Earth C society, both of them brimming with anxiety despite their reassurances. Karkat almost thought Dave was going to say this was too much for him and turn around and fly home, but he unwrapped himself from Karkat’s arm and instead held his hand to walk up to the front door and knock.

“Just a sec!” Roxy’s voice rang out from somewhere inside, and a few seconds later, the door opened to reveal her smiling face. “Davey!” She squealed and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. Dave, to his credit, adapted quickly and let go of Karkat’s hand to hug her back.

“Sup, Rox.”

Roxy pulled away from Dave to turn towards Karkat, who instinctively took a half step back. She noticed and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hug you if you don’t wanna. Is a fistbump cool?”

“I don’t know if I would call anything a certain red asshole harangued me with in the early years of our friendship ‘cool’, but it is acceptable.” That made Roxy laugh, and he gave her a light fistbump.

“Karkat, bro, I can’t believe you’re just calling me uncool in front of my mom. What the fuck. What is this betrayal.” Dave shook his head, but he already seemed more relaxed.

“Dave, I dunno how to break this to you, but you’re related to me ‘n Dirk.” Roxy tried to adopt a sympathetic expression despite her grin. “You’ve got dork running through your veins.”

“Goddamn. You’re tellin’ me I’ve got a genetic predisposition for this shit?”

“Yup. It’s chronic. Doctors everywhere’re rushing to write studies on our family to try and isolate the ‘cool-but-really-not-cool’ gene.”

“Let’s hope it’s not replicable in a lab or anything. I’m pretty sure Earth C can only handle four of us.”

“Ohmigod, can you imagine them trying to test it out. Little lab rats wearing shades and writing wizard fic. Holy shit.” Roxy gasped at her own idea, an unbelievably pleased look on her face.

“Oh my dick. Fuck ectobiology, this is the science I want to invest in.”

“Absolutely not.” Karkat interjected. “There’s already enough of you jackasses, I think I’d have an aneurysm if any more blond lunatics were running around.”

“Lol,” Karkat couldn’t believe Roxy just said that out loud, “You’re probably right. Are we gonna keep fucking around about cool mice on the doorstep, or do you guys wanna come in?”

She stepped aside to lead them inside and showed them to the living room. “Callie’s out picking up dinner. I would’ve made something since I invited you guys over for dinner, but living in the water apocalypse did not leave me with many cooking skills.”

“Hey, no shade here.” Dave shrugged, plopping down on the couch with Karkat at his side. “I don’t think I’d be able to work an oven if I tried. We’re a strictly take-out household. Hivehold? I dunno, but we’ve barely touched the kitchen in the week we’ve been here.”

“Excuse you, I made those Hot Pockets yesterday.” Karkat countered sharply.

“Yeah, and they were like 30% cooked, dude. You put them in the microwave for thirty seconds and then panicked.”

“Fuck you, I don’t see you doing much better! In fact, I distinctly remember you eating those frozen pizza pockets like a ravenous barkbeast! It was like you’d been locked in a cave with nothing to eat for half a sweep and my delicious plate of folded sauce treats were the only thing saving you from a miserable, malnourished death!”

“I mean, a Hot Pocket’s a Hot Pocket. I’m not gonna turn one of those fuckers down, who do you think I am.”

“I think you’re a wiggler with no sense of taste.”

“You eat bugs.”

“And you put ranch on your pizza! Bricks and glass houses, Dave!”

“Dude, do trolls even have that expression? Aren’t y’all light sensitive? Why would you have glass houses?”

“Newsflash, dipshit, I’ve lived in close proximity for the majority of the past two sweeps with an overflowing fountain of pop culture references and idioms and an uppity seer that likes to make things as convoluted and difficult to understand as possible. I picked up a few human phrases! Uh, no offense, Roxy.” Karkat added at the mention of Rose.

“None taken! I’m pretty sure she gets that from Dirk anyway.” Roxy waved him off. “Take it back to the ranch on pizza thing tho, do you really do that? Is this some earth delicacy I missed out on?”

“Oh fuck yeah, it rules. You gotta try it some time.” Dave nodded, excited to get someone else to try his food crimes.

“Imma have to take a pass on that.” Roxy said, crinkling her nose.

“Finally, someone with taste!” Karkat exclaimed, and Dave gently hit his shoulder.

“I am slowly workin’ through traditional earth food tho! Or at least as traditional as you can get here. That’s where we’re getting dinner from! There’s this human/troll fusion place that Callie and I like. I dunno how authentic it is, but it tastes good at least!”

“I mean, nothing on Earth C is super authentic, it’s all like human diet slightly to the left, but it’s edible.”

“Better than the garbage we alchemized on the meteor, at least.” Karkat agreed.

“God, the fucking buffalo wings debacle.” Dave and Karkat shuddered in unison. Roxy looked amused.

“You guys spent a lot of time together on the meteor, right? And now you’re living together?” Roxy asked, and they both nodded. She had a look in her eyes that was far too reminiscent of the look Rose got when she was gearing up to psychoanalyze someone, and Karkat was hit with a stroke of panic. “Sooo, I should prob’ly do a lightning round with you too, right? Since you’re important to Dave?”

The pair shared a look and Dave shrugged, appearing nonchalant despite the way he was anxiously picking at a loose string on his jeans. “Uh, I guess?” Karkat said, bracing himself.

“I’ll start easy, I promise!” Roxy drummed her fingers on her lips as if thinking. “Hm… you’ve got ‘cat’ in your name, do you like cats?”

Karkat made a face, thrown off by the question. “I guess? I never had one, but Nepeta was pretty fucking into them, and they seemed… fine. I can respect a meowbeast that just lazes around if it’ll leave me the fuck alone, but Nepeta’s lusus could’ve probably torn me to shreds, so…” He shrugged.

“Was Nepeta a friend from the game?” Roxy backpedaled the moment she saw Karkat’s face fall. “Oh shit, tender subject, sorry.” She worried her lip, looking for another question, then perked up. “Oh! What’s your sign? I know it’s Cancer from earth astrology and stuff, but what’s that mean for trolls?”

Karkat looked down at his chest and grimaced. “Fuck if I know, I don’t actually have a sign. I spent most of my life thinking this stupid thing meant precisely fuck all. I guess it’s a symbol of my ancestor? But I never really learned much about him since the empress always tried to erase his rebellion, and I thought that ancestor shit was highblood bullshit anyway. I guess now I know it’s not, but ugh, I could’ve happily gone my whole wretched life without meeting that douchebag.”

“We met his ancestor in the dream bubbles.” Dave explained. “Or I guess descendent? Since y’all are technically the post-scratch group? I never really understood that part.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, he was a pretentious asswipe with his head so far up his nook it’s a wonder he was even audible, but oh god, was he audible alright.”

“Lmao, I kinda wanna meet this guy.” Roxy grinned.

“No you don’t.” Dave and Karkat said in unison, which made her laugh.

“I’ll take your word for it.” The mischievous look was back in her eyes. “Next question! Have you ever had your quadrants filled?”

Karkat almost choked. “What the fuck kind of question is that? That’s none of your fucking business!” He blustered. “My quadrants are private, and it’s my decision if I want to bring them up! Are all humans this fucking nosy or is it just the Lalondes?!”

“It’s just the Lalondes.” Dave said flatly.

“I just thought it’d be fair since I asked Dave that in our lightning round!” Roxy put her hands up in apology, but didn’t look particularly apologetic. “I was curious!”

Karkat was about to continue his rant about people feeling entitled to knowledge about virtual strangers’ quadrants, but the way Dave sat up and cleared his throat gave him pause.

“Actually, Rox,” Dave started, fidgeting a bit, “I never answered that question back on the lilypad.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay!” Roxy brushed him off. “I’m not gonna push you to answer something you’re not comfy with.”

“That’s the thing. I wanna answer you now, if that’s cool.”

“Oh!” Roxy’s eyes widened. “Of course that’s cool! That’s cooler than cool.”

Dave lifted an eyebrow, a smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “What’s cooler than being cool?”

“Ice cold!” Roxy shouted at the top of her lungs, and the two of them chanted “alright” about a dozen times while Karkat watched them in bewilderment. Humans, he thought. He’d never understand them.

“Okay, but for real tho,” Roxy said once they’d both gotten a handle on their giggles, “You wanted to say something?”

“Yeah.” Dave almost immediately looked anxious again, running his hands over his jeans. “So. You asked if I’d ever kissed anyone or-” He cleared his throat and the rest came out in a mumbled cough, “-been in love.”

Karkat held his breath, eyes flicking between Dave and a very focused Roxy.

“The, um. The answer to both of those questions is… yes? And I know you’re wonderin’ who, that’s like the next logical question, like if you ask someone if they’re hungry and they say yes, your next question is probably gonna be ‘what do you wanna eat’, unless you’re a total dick and just wanted to, I dunno, be aware of someone else’s hunger for your own sick pleasures and leave ‘em waiting like you’re some kinda sick torturer tryin’ to extract information out of a prisoner, like ‘hey are you hungry?’ ‘Yeah, I am, actually. I’ve been hanging from my ankles for a week now and I’d kill for some motherfucking KFC right now.’ ‘Interesting. Go fuck yourself.’ That’s not a very good interrogator, actually, he didn’t even try to get any information out of the guy except for the knowledge that he’s really craving some chicken, which is virtually useless, unless the interrogator is working for KFC’s competitor, like Popeyes out here tryna get the deets on their rival brands. Hey, do you think they’ve got a Popeyes anywhere on Earth C? Maybe we should start one, make a shit ton of money. Really boost the economy.”

“Dave.” Karkat cut him off before he could get too far from the topic, giving him a pointed look. “Were you actually going to say something important or were you going to just talk out of your deflated ass forever?”

“Hey man, you know you love my ass.”

“The point, Dave-!”

“Right right right.” Dave shook his head and took a deep breath before looking at Roxy again, who looked like she was might be putting things together already. “It’s Karkat. The answer to ‘who’, I mean. We’ve, uh. We’ve been dating since the meteor.”

Roxy’s whole face lit up. “Aw, congrats you guys! That’s really sweet!”

“Yeah.” Dave looked over at Karkat and gave him a tiny smile before looking a little apprehensive again. “I’d, uh, appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone though? I mean, the rest of the meteor crew probably knows because we spent… a lot of time together.”

“Most of that was platonic, though. A good two-thirds of it, at least.” Karkat countered.

“True, but they don’t know that. Far as they know, one day we were just two bros hanging out and watching movies and shit, then the next day, Vriska walks in to catch one of those bros taking a snooze on his other bro’s lap and falling off the couch the moment she announces her presence.”

“I’ll give you three fucking guesses which dumbass that was.” Karkat directed that at Roxy, and she snorted.

“Rude.” Dave nudged him. “But yeah, they’ve probably figured it out, but we haven’t officially told anyone. I haven’t even told anyone I’m, you know. Bisexual.”

“Wait, so I’m the first person you’ve told?” Roxy looked a little stunned.

“I- Yeah? I just thought you’d probably be a safe person to go to, especially since we don’t have any weird baggage like I might have with John and Jade, you’re just my alt-mom, which I guess does make things a little weird-”

“It’s a little weird, but it does mean you get a certified mom hug!” She interrupted, standing up.

“A mom hug? Dunno if I know what those are like.” Dave said, smiling a little.

“They’re like this, you big goober.” Roxy pulled him into a tight hug, pulling him down a little so he could put his head on her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Davey. That’s a big deal, comin’ out and shit. I’m glad you felt like you could tell me.”

“...Thanks mom.” Dave’s voice was a watery mumble against her shoulder, but he seemed to have collected himself by the time they pulled away. Roxy immediately turned her sights on Karkat.

“Your turn! You’re family now, you can’t escape hugs anymore.”

“Ugh, you humans are so fucking tactile.” Karkat grumbled but resigned himself to Roxy’s affectionate squeeze.

“Hey man, don’t act like you’re not cuddly as hell. I have to pry you off of me with a crowbar to go take a piss sometimes. You should see this dude when he gets sleepy, Rox, it’s so fucking cute. Did you know trolls purr? It’s some kinda flushed noise or something and it’s the fucking best.” Dave seemed to already be relaxing now that the thing he’d been dreading was over with.

“That’s private!” Karkat hissed, embarrassed. Dave just grinned at him and sat a little closer when they took a seat again. “Do you want me airing out how you melt like a touch starved candybar left in the sunlight when I suggest you should be the little spoon? Or how you turn into a warbling puddle of Dave when I do this?” He reached over and out his hand on Dave’s knee, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. Casual affection, Dave’s weakness.

“Aw,” Roxy cooed. Dave looked thoroughly embarrassed and made a strangled noise in his throat. Karkat gave him a smug look.

“Shut up.” He grumbled weakly and scooted a little closer so he could press against Karkat’s side and hold his hand.

“So you guys are matesprits?” Roxy asked, and Karkat’s anxiety immediately returned. Dave wasn’t the only one who had coming out to do. Dave squeezed his hand and let Karkat start since this was his thing to discuss.

“Mostly?” He offered weakly, then tried to sound more certain. “We’re kind of pale too.”

“Plus I piss you off in a pitch way sometimes.” Dave added helpfully.

“And the way you kept me from tearing Vriska apart on the meteor was sort of ashen.” Karkat admitted.

“I mean, there wasn’t really much of a chance of you tearing her apart to begin with. Spidertroll could’ve probably kicked any of our asses in her sleep, she’s fuckin’ crazy.”

“My point still stands!”

“So…” Roxy interrupted, guiding them back on topic, “You’re in all quadrants? I didn’t know trolls did that!”

Karkat winced. “They don’t. Usually. It’s extremely frowned upon.”

“Karkat’s had trouble keeping shit in one quadrant.” Dave explained for him. “He’s got a big ol’ heart full of love.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in Paradox Space to come to that conclusion about what my useless fucking pump biscuit is full of, but thanks for the thought.” Karkat rolled his eyes, defaulting to annoyance to avoid the insecurities that always gnawed at him when he thought about his relationship with quadrants. “‘Full of love’ is usually not the first thing people describe me as. More like ‘full of a burning anger’ or ‘a perpetual stream of irritable piss’ or, hell, ‘just undiluted dumbass juice!’ As far as most people are concerned, I’m Karkat ‘useless shitfit’ Vantas, and they’re not fucking wrong!”

“Okay, sure, you might be the grumpiest person in all - what, is this five universes now? I can’t keep track, but that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly a big softy.” Dave rubbed his thumb over Karkat’s knuckles. “I know that best out of probably anyone.”

“If it helps, I don’t think of you as those things!” Roxy added. Karkat gave her a disbelieving look.

“Full offense, we’ve never really ‘hung out.’”

“I mean, no, but I’ve seen you interacting with Dave and John and Kanaya and stuff, and you’ve always seemed to be a caring friend underneath all the yelling.” Roxy shrugged. “It’s nice knowing Dave’s in good hands since I’ve only been part of his family for a couple weeks. Means I don’t have to give you a shovel talk prob’ly!”

“The shovel talk? What the fuck? What does that even mean?” Karkat looked at Dave for an explanation, but he only winced.

“You know, when parents meet their kid’s partner and are like ‘you better not hurt my baby, or I’ll kill you.’ That kind of thing. I’m guessing trolls didn’t do that on Alternia?” Roxy tilted her head, seeming genuinely curious. Karkat’s face contorted as he wrapped his head around that concept.

“Okay, first of all, no we didn’t because we didn’t even have parents and our lusii wouldn’t give two shits about our quadrantmates. Second of all, you better not even think about giving me your ridiculous human ‘shovel talk’! I’ve known Dave far longer than you have, so it really should be me going ‘don’t fucking hurt him,’ but I know I don’t need to because Dave can fucking handle himself! He doesn’t need your bullshit defenses! If I ever hurt him, I trust him to be able to tell me to fuck off out of his life - not that he’d ever need to because I’d rather establish a culling system in the Troll Kingdom and offer myself up as their first sacrifice than hurt Dave!” He took a deep inhale to continue his tirade, but Dave cut him off with a pat to the cheek.

“Yo, dude, shoosh, it’s okay. It’s really not that big of a deal.” It was only after Dave cut off his train of thought that Karkat realized how worked up he was getting, and he shrank back down against Dave’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m pretty sure Roxy was kidding, anyway.”

“Yeah, for sure!” Roxy nodded quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply you were gonna hurt Dave or that he couldn’t take care of himself or anything. That’s hella not my place, and you guys seem very good for each other.”

“Oh. Well. Good.” He sent her a warning glare just to make sure he’d gotten the point across, then forced himself to let some tension out of his shoulders.

“It is really nice knowin’ my family’s in good hands though.” Roxy smiled. “Hell, it’s nice knowin’ I have a family! Oh my god, Dave, do you realize none of us Strilondes are straight? I mean, Rose ‘n Dirk are both gay as hell, and then you and I are bi!”

“Yeah- Wait, what?” Dave jolted a little in surprise. “Rox, you’re bi too? Since when?”

“Uh, since always?” Roxy laughed a bit. “I thought that’s why you came to me, because you knew!”

“No! Holy shit, I gotta process this for a second.”

“LMAO.” Roxy said, pronouncing every letter. “Yeah, dude! I mean, can you blame me? Like, dudes are hot as fuck, that’s like self explanatory. I mean, have you seen the Englberts? Eglishes? Whatever their family name is, John and Jake are both total babes, but then there are girls too! I mean, Janey, what a gal, right? And Callie too!”

“Right?” Dave enthused, clearly excited someone understood where he was coming from. “Girls are so fucking good, hot damn, but then? Dudes? Holy shit?”

“Yeah!” Roxy was just about throwing herself out of her chair with her excitement. “I can barely leave the house, it’s just smoochable babes everywhere I turn.”

“I’d say it’s a goddamn plight, but I got the most smoochable right here.” Dave emphasized his point with a kiss to one of Karkat’s horns, making him squawk. Dave laughed a little and turned back to Roxy. “Yo, but rewind back to Callie. Soooo, are y’all two, y’know…”

Roxy looked remarkably like Dave when embarrassed. “Uh…” The sound of the front door opening and Calliope’s greeting voice cut her off. “I’ll get back to you on that!” Dave waggled his eyebrows at her but didn’t push it.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair, despite Karkat’s near constant crippling fear of being miserable in every social engagement. The food was good and pretty close to tasting like home, and the conversation was fluid - mostly because Roxy and Dave chattered the entire time like hyperactive squirrels. Karkat tried to be annoyed with their ridiculous stream of consciousness discussions, but he couldn’t help but feel warm watching Dave talk so comfortably with his ecto-mom. And he certainly wasn’t the only person happy with the situation; every time he and Dave started bantering back and forth, he could see Roxy’s delight out of the corner of his eye, and the absolutely lovestruck look on her face whenever Calliope spoke didn’t escape him either.

Eventually, though, they had to head home - though Dave and Karkat had both shifted their sleep schedules to be active in the afternoon and most of the night, the majority of their human friends were still diurnal and needed to go to bed eventually - so after a few more hugs from Roxy, they were sent on their way.

Dave landed them down the street from their hive, and Karkat didn’t complain about having to walk that last distance. The Troll Kingdom was just now starting to wake up, stores and restaurants lighting up, trolls in suits rushing to their early jobs, and young trolls getting ushered off to school. It was so different from Alternia, but Karkat thought he could probably get used to the differences if it meant he didn’t have to worry about getting culled at a single glance at his blood color. Maybe it was too early to tell, but if he let himself feel just the slightest bit optimistic for his future, he had a feeling he could be really happy here. He could live a peaceful, successful life on Earth C, and if the cheerful way Dave was swinging their clasped hands meant anything, he wasn’t the only one feeling hopeful.

“So,” He prompted, leaning into Dave’s shoulder, “I guess that could have been more horrible.”

“Yep.” Dave said, popping the ‘p’. “We’ll have to scrap those emergency plans. Cancel our name changes and facial reconstructions and flights to the other side of Earth C, no need to run away immediately.”

“I don’t know, we might have to keep that shit pencilled in. We still need to tell John.” Karkat reminded him, and Dave groaned.

“Oh fuck. Yeah, never mind, you sure we can’t just fuck off into another universe? Universe D here we come. The D stands for Davekat ‘cause it’ll just be us, babe. It also stands for Dick because, come on, it’s us, of course it does. Also Dinosaurs just ‘cause. Do you think dinosaurs are a universal constant? Like, did dinosaurs exist for you guys? Or- oh shit, do you think they evolved differently? Are trolls just super evolved dinosaurs?”

“Dave,” Karkat gave him a look, “I think I would know if I was a dinosaur.”

“I dunno, dude, maybe we’re all dinosaurs-”

“Okay, I know when to cut that shit off.” Karkat rolled his eyes and let go of his hand to unlock their door. “Seriously, I think… that went okay. Less than horrid.”

“Less than horrid, huh? That’s a big compliment coming from you, are you feeling okay? Are you gettin’ some kinda fluffy feelings from hanging out with Roxy too long, ‘cause like, I get it.”

“Shut up. All I’m saying is this might not have been as much of an ordeal as we thought, this ‘coming out to everyone we know’ thing.”

“Maybe. You might be right.” Dave admitted, following him inside. “But that involved way too many emotions, and I think all my brain’s been used up for the rest of the day for anything that involves more thought than playing Xbox for seven hours straight. You down?”

“Fuck yes.”

#homestuck #davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #roxy lalonde #calliope's there for like a second #okay to reblog #my writing #this was fun to write!#i. really like writing karkat he's very fun.#also she/her pronouns are used for roxy bc this is pre-them figuring out their gender #this is epilogue non-compliant household but i do want to keep roxy's journey to figuring out they're nonbinary

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