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I draw for a wide varitey of fandoms and scenarios, OCs welcome! Will not do gore or heavily detailed backgrounds. Message me if you have questions!
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Thank you for tagging me @babinicz! And I will steal @hypknosis smart move to start a new post because of chaos!
BBC Merlin: Sir Leon
Lord of the Rings: Sam
The Good Place: Chidi
Umbrella Academy: Klaus
The Iron Druid Chronicles: Halbjörn Hauk
Gravity Falls: Bill Cipher
Anne with an E: Cole
The Dragon Prince: Amaya
Umm yea, so Idk if I'll manage 10 tags so feel free to assume you have been tagged. I'd like to specifically tag @beautifultypewriter/ @beautifulfigment @gremlinbehaviour @gwainegwainegwainegwainegwai @streets-in-paradise @thetempleofthemasaigoddess
One of the things I love about Tolkien is that he very clearly hated writing battle scenes.
His battle scenes aren't bad! But they are quick. The whole of the battle of Helm's deep is a few pages whereas you are in the Council of Elrond did fucking chapters
However long you think the Council of Elrond is double it
The highlight of this hatred of battle scenes is in the Hobbit where he sets up this epic battle of the five armies and then has the protagonist knocked unconscious by a rock within seconds and not having him wake up until after the battle when everything is over
And I think it makes sense that a man who survived the trenches of World War I, and whose friends all died in that war, to dislike writing about war. And when he does writes it not as something worthy and good but as something tragic and miserable
So he spends as few words as possible for the actual battle and instead spends more time sitting with the trauma, misery, and despair, but also with the slow healing that comes after
The Lord of the Rings is not a straight up allegory or one to one alignment but I do think it's likely Tolkien was trying to process his trauma in his work. Especially with Eowyn.
For all the flak Jirt gets for how he writes women I always felt like Eowyn was the keeper of his trauma.
She starts off so thirsty for battle and for glory. Wanting to fight for her country on the front lines.
Like a fresh faced young man drafted into WWI who bought into the propaganda might have been.
But then Eowyn sees too much, experiences too much, and is broken by it. War is not glory and triumph it is ugly and dirty and cruel and awful in every way
Just like that same young man in WWI would feel seeing the full reality of the trenches and who ended up the only one out of his friends alive
The way JRR wrote about Eowyn's feelings. Of her despair and apathy and just straight up depression is so reminiscent of genuine reaction to trauma that I can't help but think it's drawing on person experience
TL:dr- Lord of the Rings is just Tolkien processing his PTSD from WWI in the only way he knew how and Eowyn his us true self insert and he didn't even know it.
It felt like Rivendell had been taken over; your own home taken over by thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard. You couldn’t help but laugh at how uncommon it was, especially since a couple of them were quite angry. After all, dwarves and elves rarely get along.
“What are you laughing at, Elf,” one spat as he walked behind you.
You weren’t sure who said it, so you stopped and turned to look at the group you led. A smile was still on your face as you weren’t offended but found it rather cute. “That would be Lady Elf to you, Master Dwarf, for I know not which who spoke except that it wasn’t Master Baggins.” Your eyes landed on the Halfling, making him blush and look down.
“I asked,” the dwarf that asked the question spoke. His eyes were fierce and the way his brow wrinkled you could tell he wasn’t pleased. Tattoos were etched into the bald part of his scalp before brown matted hair mingled with his beard.
You noticed that the longer you studied him, the redder he became, but you knew it wasn’t from blushing. “Sir Dwarf, I’m laughing because of your company. I have never seen so many of you at one time and it’s wonderful. I laugh because I’m glad you’re all here; it was nothing offensive.”
All the dwarves just stared at you, their mouths open as what you had said, all but one. Thorin Oakenshield’s brows were hidden under his dark hair as he looked at you in surprise. The ice that were his eyes watched you with disbelief; your statement something he thought he would never hear from an Elf that didn’t want something from him. He expected Lord Elrond to be decent because he wanted information, but you had no reason.
Your eyes met his last before you turned around and began walking again. You led the group to where they would be sleeping which was three massive rooms with three or five beds. It wasn’t like your home didn’t have the room to house all of the company separately, but you had told your father that the group might be so used to sleeping with others around that it might be more comfortable. You didn’t tell him that you had also heard that many were brothers and liked to keep close.
The sky was dark as you walked the grounds, your bare feet making you quiet. The company had long gone to bed and most of them seemed quite happy to do so. Who knew when they’d be able to sleep in a real bed again? It was nice being out alone, the quiet being something you missed since your guests had arrived.
A smile graced your lips at hearing footsteps, heavier than ones that belonged to any elf or hobbit. “You should be sleeping.” You didn’t know which dwarf graced you with their presence, but you had an inkling.
“I’m surrounded by a race I despise and have a bed that’s too soft; it is unfamiliar.” The gruff voice belonged to the King.
“If I were any other elf then I might be offended by your statement,” you told him, turning to lean your back against the railing of the bridge you stood upon.
“Then you, out of all of your kind, surprise me. Even from when we first came here and you dismounted beside your father, you have been rather odd. If any of us try and insult you, you only look at us with a smile and sometimes a bit of humor leave your lips. You do not seem to anger nor flinch from us. What are you, for you can be no mere elf,” he whispered the last part as he stood next to you. You felt a large hand smooth along your hair before the ends of your locks were twirled in his fingers.
You didn’t move even though you were unsure of his actions. You knew he wouldn’t harm you, but usually when someone played with another’s hair then it showed affection for that being. You didn’t know if he knew that or not, but you wouldn’t prove him wrong by flinching from it. There was also the fact that you quite liked it. “So you have stared at me since we met earlier today because you find me odd?”
Thorin seemed to overlook your question as he continuously played with your tresses, his blue eyes glowing from the moonlight above as he watched the water below the two of you. The silence was deafening between you, but it didn’t last long. Before you knew what was happening, you were turned in the dwarf’s hands to face him and then bent down as he pulled you by your tunic to crash his lips upon yours.
Shock took over your body and you didn’t know what to do, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t make yourself pull away even if you wanted to; you didn’t. It was like your mind was telling you that you wanted this but was also telling you to wait.
Thorin pulled away before he whispered, “Asti mud khi-e. Tada mud kuf akhuf ‘alae thurkhu (You must be my One. That must be why I feel this way).” He walked away and back to his sleeping quarters, leaving you bent over and confused.
After you had gone to bed and woke up the next morning, you were still unsure of what happened last night. You knew Thorin Oakenshield had kissed you, but what did he say? And he had only known you for an afternoon… something must have been going on.
The dwarves spent the next three days there at your home, something you quite enjoyed. They stopped throwing their food after the first day so they weren’t as messy which made others happy as well. You spent much of your time with all of them and felt his eyes on you even when you thought he wouldn’t be there. You weren’t sure if you felt uncomfortable or not, but it did make you smile to have his attention.
During the nights, it would be the same thing as the first, except he never repeated the phrase. Now he didn’t need to surprise you as you kissed him willingly which caused him to moan at the affection and deepen the kiss. He even got to where he would steal you away for another quick kiss while no one was looking, or that you knew of.
“Thorin, what did you say to me the first night,” you asked as he sat beside you after he talked you into braiding your hair.
“Have you been wondering ever since then,” he asked, amusement in his tone.
You couldn’t help but close your eyes at feeling the light tugs that his fingers gave as he braided your hair. The dwarf had been adamant about it, saying that you would be beautiful with it. You thought the reason might go along with what he said. “Yes, I have. I thought of asking someone, but if I said something to them in your common tongue then they might be insulted.”
He chuckled, thinking of his friends. “Aye, they would be, especially since you’re an elf.” You felt him tie off the end of your hair before feeling him lift the braid so he could kiss it.
You turned to look at him, your eyes studying him. When he first arrived he seemed so distant and hated your kind; his face weary and aged. Now it seemed everything had changed and you weren’t the only one to notice. Now he looked so much younger as he smiled, the lines disappearing from his features. He was more handsome to you than ever before.
This time, you were the one to take him by surprise as you lifted your hands to his cheeks and kissed him softly. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, his grip on your waist was tight. You knew you pulled away too soon when he tried to follow your lips, but you only smiled. “Thorin, do you know anything of my kind other than how some of us treat others? Do you know anything of when we love someone?”
The king blushed lightly at hearing the word ‘love’ but he shook his head. His hands were still on your waist as his thumbs absentmindedly moved up and down your sides. “No, I know about as much of that as you know of mine.”
“Elves only truly love once, and I have heard tales that dwarves are the same. I believe that was what you had said to me the first night, but I wanted to be sure of my feelings and that it wasn’t just because of your affection. I love you, Thorin, the kind of love an elf has for her One.” With that being said you removed your hands from him long enough to take off your necklace before putting it around him. His hands did the same, except he gave you a ring, one that you would find to be the crest of his line.
There were no more words that night as you held each other in the darkness. You knew he would be leaving, most likely tomorrow, but you hoped that once his quest was done, you would be back for you.
The journey to Erebor was the longest you had ever taken, and that was saying something. You had traveled so many places, some even farther than this trek, but this felt the longest. You weren’t sure if it was because your legs were longer than most of the company’s, because you were the only female, or because you were an Elf with a bunch of Dwarrows. Let’s not forget the Hobbit and the Wizard, but you had no quarrel with them.
There was a certain Dwarf in particular that made you want to jump off a cliff: Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain. He made it well known in the beginning of your joining that he was not pleased. There were a few threats thrown and curses in Elvish and Khuzdul, but you still went with them. You would have anyway, just to annoy the leader by your presence.
That was how you became friends with the small Hobbit, Bilbo. His love of your people and culture automatically drew him to you and the fact that he seemed so interested was why you both had become friends quite quickly. You would even allow him to climb on your back when he was dragging behind since he was slower than everyone else. That was after you had no ponies, mind.
That’s where Bilbo was now as a matter of fact. Your laugh could be heard through the company, making everyone, except Thorin and Dwalin, smile at the sound. Your small friend would tell you some stories of when he was younger, of how he landed in the muddy flowerbed of his home as he tried to run away from disturbed bees. After he would tell you one then you would do the same; sharing stories that were fun and full of joy since you had plenty of seriousness in the quest.
The group eventually began warming up to you even Dwalin, although he tried his best to hide it when his king was near. The youngest dwarves finally began picking on you, letting you know that you were a friend to them now. Especially Kili who would wink at you every once in a while to make you turn red before he laughed.
Thorin was the only one who distanced himself even more from you. In the beginning he would at least glare at you and make remarks to you even though they were forced. Now, though, he would ignore you completely even if you asked him a question straight to his face. The king didn’t even speak long enough to you to spit your task at you. Instead, you had to help where you thought you were needed most which was usually hunting.
Hunting and trapping were your specialty with a little bit of Elven medicine thrown in which made you almost a necessity to the group. With being an Elf came many helpful things such as a light step and keen eyes. Sometimes Bilbo would jest about being replaced as the burglar since you were so useful. You were also pretty helpful when it came to the night watch seeing as you didn’t need as much sleep as the rest. Instead of two grumpy dwarves having to wake up, only one had to and usually you let them sleep anyway.
That was exactly what you were doing when Thorin sat down about five feet from you. You were looking up at the night sky, staring at the stars when the shuffling of feet were heard behind you. You didn’t say anything when Thorin was there, doing your best not to even look at the handsome king.
The steel blue orbs seemed to glow as he looked at the moon, his hair falling down his back and mixing with the darkness that surrounded the both of you. The fire had died long ago. Streaks of silver were almost white in his mane and beard as he looked on. If the streaks didn’t give away a bit of his age, the slight wrinkles around his eyes and along his forehead did, but those just added beauty to the dwarf beside you.
You chastised yourself for looking - no, staring - at him when you told yourself you wouldn’t. Tearing your eyes away from him would be the start of the hardest tasks of that night, but you did it, remembering that even someone as handsome as him could have hatred running through his veins. The thought made your own blood sizzle, thinking of how he stereotyped you with your kin. Had you not proven your worth? Couldn’t he tell that you weren’t like everyone else?
“What brought this on,” the dwarf beside you asked gruffly.
That was when you realized you had spoken out loud. ‘Might as well continue,’ you thought to yourself as you cleared your throat. “Ah, so you do know I exist,” was all you said as every word dripped with sarcasm.
The king only scoffed, still not looking at you. He had no reason to say anything to you; that’s what he said finally after moments of silence.
Your eyes were aflame at hearing his words, your hands bawled into fists while accidently tearing up some of the grass that had gotten in between your fingers. “Oh yes, I forgot, Master Oakenshield is the King, he has no reason to talk to anyone since he’s so high and mighty. ‘I have to show I’m better than an elf because I have to make up for my shortness.’ Is that what it is, you ignore me because you’re angered that someone, let alone a female, is taller than you and you have to look up?” You stood up, not even trying to wipe off the dirt and grass attached to your clothes. “Well guess what, Thorin Oakenshield, even if I was half your height I would still be ten times the dwarf you are.”
You went to say more, but before you could he tackled you and pinned you beneath him, the rage in his eyes matching your own. “Do not dare speak to me that way, wench, or we can leave you here when we pack up camp tomorrow. We can get on just fine without you.”
You shoved him off of you, your strength surprising him as his back hit the ground and he hissed at the slight pain. “You think so? Fine, let’s see you try.” You didn’t care that you told them that you would lead the company through Mirkwood safely nor did you care that you were probably the only one that could get King Thranduil off of their back if they were caught. You stuffed your pack and walked off, but not before kissing Bilbo on the cheek.
It had been days since you had left, and boy was the company feeling it. Since you had left, tempers were high, especially Bilbo’s, everyone was hungry and the healing herbs were running low. Even Dwalin was grumbling as the group of males walked on through the poisonous woods after they had left Beorn’s house.
“Which way do we go now, Uncle; I assume you know,” Kili said with snark from the middle of the group.
“Kili, I know where we’re going. Take that tone with me again and I’ll silence you myself.” Thorin was even more bearish than usual. Ever since you left, he slowly became grumpier, but he didn’t know if it was because he might feel bad or because everyone was giving him trouble.
After everyone had split up to find the path again, that was when he saw it. A tall figure glowing in the darkness of the forest, coming closer to him. The dwarf recognized the shape, one he had dreamed about many times even though he would never admit it. You had come back, but how?
Your voice was like an angelic echo to him as you spoke. “I told you that you would need me, Thorin Oakenshield. Now will you tell me why you treated me as such?”
The king looked to his boots, but he couldn’t for long as he was afraid you would leave again. “I-I cannot.”
You arched an eyebrow before shrugging. “Then I guess I better get going, have fun in this maze.”
Even though your words sounded slow, your movements looked too fast for him, but he tried to grab your wrist. “Wait,” he said, his hand meeting your skin, “please don’t go, not again.” Was he actually pleading to you? ‘Mahal, please let this be a dream for sounding so weak.’
“I suggest you tell me the, King under the Mountain.”
Your eyes bore into his, as if you could see his very soul. “I was trying to avoid you because,” he fell silent as he thought about the words he would say next, “Because I’m in love with you.” He broke eye contact with you and looked to where his large hand wrapped around your thin wrist. He could feel the heat on his cheeks that traveled down his neck as he blushed.
“Then why try to avoid me,” you asked with surprise. This was definitely not the answer you thought you would hear. Maybe it was the air in the forest, but you believed him.
“You’re an Elf, a race I have sworn to despise until the end of my days. But like you said before, you’re so different than the rest. I thought if I stayed away that you would no longer torture me.”
You couldn’t help but lean into the dwarf’s hand as he caressed your cheek before you felt him move it to the back of your neck and pull you forward. His lips were like fire on yours, his kiss much slower than you imagined. You wrapped your hands in his hair, forgetting where you were or what you were supposed to be doing. All that mattered was the warmth that you felt from the king in front of you as it slowly swam from your lips and throughout your body.
Thorin’s hands moved still in a slow pace, the air still affecting him even now. Calloused fingers roamed your sides, following the curves of your body until you felt his hands tighten on your bottom. You gasped, allowing him to delve into your mouth, a growl rising from his throat.
It would have gone farther if not for another dwarf clearing their throat behind Thorin. You pulled away, your fingers on your lips as you noticed Balin with a smile on his face. Even he looked as if he was drugged. Taking Thorin’s hand, you turned to the white-haired dwarf. “Call everyone here and I shall lead you out of this place and into clean air safely.”
Your weapon dripped with black blood as your eyes scanned the battlefield taking in all the blood mixing together under the miles of bodies. You were saddened at seeing all the dwarves and elves littering the ground, but there was a certain three you were looking for. With each new body that you stared at, your heart dropped in your stomach and your worry increased.
That was until you heard a group walking towards you, their armor clinking together. You wanted to run, afraid of what they might tell you. Then you heard a roar that made you look to them. The king called to you, his body matching yours as he too was covered in blood. Thorin had a hand on the eldest nephew’s shoulder as he looked to Fili who was holding Kili up. It looked like the youngest had only hurt his leg, nothing too serious or Thorin wouldn’t be leaving them to walk to you.
You couldn’t keep your eyes from the dwarf as he slowly came towards you, his posture showing his proudness. His beard and hair was matted but his eyes were a bright light against the dark blood that covered him. He was a conqueror today and he had won his mountain back.
The celebration would go on for hours into the night, but since King Thorin had already spoken a speech of success, you were able to steal him away. Neither of you said anything as he led you to what used to be his chambers.
The room was dark except for a few candles here and there, bringing enough light to show the tattered bed spread and the cobwebs in the corners of the room. It was dusty and cold and the smell told of its age.
Your eyes would have caught more in the room if it wasn’t for the door closing and Thorin pushing you against it. He caged you between his arms, his gaze leaving a heated trail along your face. Nuzzling your neck, his warm breath sent chills down your spine and he didn’t even have to touch you to cause you to become a wanting mess.
“Do you know why I made sure to live through this battle,” Thorin ask in a guttural voice that made your knees weak.
“Because you’re king and you have to rule and protect your people?” You wanted to kick yourself for showing how easy it was for him to get to you.
His chuckle was rough, almost a growl as his teeth nipped your earlobe. “There is that, but there was someone I had to have.” Thorin pulled away enough to look you in the eyes as he spoke one word, “you.”
You felt a slight bit of fear at the king’s desire, something you never thought to really experience. His lips met yours, his beard rubbing against your skin just the right way making you gasp. A new battle ensued as your tongue tried to claim dominance, but the king would never allow that. Thorin picked you up and turned, throwing you on the bed with a thump as you hit the mattress.
As his hands lifted his shirt to show a well-muscled chest, your eyes watched him while you quickly untied your corset. His eyes were a blue fire that didn’t leave your form as he crawled from the edge of the bed to your middle. Your tunic was next to leave you but your gasp wasn’t from the cold it was from Thorin licking and biting his way up your stomach, passed your chest and up your neck.
You felt the biting and sucking on your throat that you knew would leave a mark, one you knew he would want you to wear proudly. You wouldn’t have it any other way and your moan agreed even as you kicked off your boots. They both hit the floor with a thunk and your fingers took care of the laces in your trousers.
Thorin sat back on his legs as he moved your legs in front of him, pulling the leather pants off of you along with your underwear. The hunger never left his eyes as he engraved your naked body into his memory: your skin flushed, breasts heaving, and hair in disarray. He leaned up to hover above you, his calloused hands rising to his mouth as he sucked on his fingers. They left a wet trail down your torso before disappearing between your legs.
You couldn’t help but whisper his name as you moved against him, your hands rising to take hold of the stone shelf at what would be the headboard. Your head fell back, baring your neck to the beast above you. Thorin kissed your neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail before he kissed you on the mouth to contain your growing moans.
As you shuddered, your hands were shaky as you helped your lover out of his pants and he sighed in relief at the release. That was when he bent close to you and whispered something you didn’t really expect, “I love you.”
Being wrapped around one another was bliss, not knowing where you began or ended. You felt complete with him as he hovered above you, his body weight being put on a hand that was beside your face. Even as you melded together, you felt a drop of sweat fall from his nose and onto your skin. You moaned once more as you bit into his wrist to silence your screams; you knew he would be proud of that.
Both of you were breathing heavy as you laid beside him, your eyes closed and your body humming with satisfaction. Thorin wiped your hair from your sweaty face, making a smile grow on your swollen lips.
Looking at him as you got comfortable, skin against skin, you kept your smile. “I love you, too.”
The Lonely Mountain, the kingdom of Erebor, had been retaken. The city of Dale, was being restored and there was peace between Man and Dwarf. All was as it should be, except for in the sleeping quarters of the king.
You had your things laying before you on a stone table that you had guessed was for when the king decided to eat alone. Your sheathed twin blades began the line of items, next was your bow and quiver, your dark cloak, your knapsack, and the list went on. There seemed so many items, but at the same time, you felt you didn’t have enough. Your brain took notes as you added things from the kitchen that you needed or from somewhere else, too busy to even tell you when the door to the room opened.
“How did I know I’d find you here,” a question rose from behind you, dragging your mind back into the room with you. You turned to look at the dwarf that stood in the doorway; your breath hitched. Thorin Oakenshield had always been a powerful being, not just in strength, but also in looks. The dwarf that stood before you though was majestic. His long hair and beard were so different than the unkempt mess that you had been so used to. His clothes cried king with its silver linings around the collar and sleeves. This was no longer a dwarf, Thorin Oakenshield looked as if the gods had made him one of them.
“My king, I have never seen someone almost glow as you do,” you told him, your eyes shining with appreciation.
The king chuckled at your words and walked over the threshold and into the chambers that belonged to him. “Keep looking at me like that and I won’t be looking like this for long.” He smiled as he teased before his mouth enclosed yours. Thorin may have looked different from the dwarf you had journeyed with, but his kiss was filled with the same passion as before. He was all heat and wickedness in his kisses, always giving you a small glimpse of what was to come later.
You broke the kiss, your forehead against his as you slowly began opening your eyes. His gaze was mesmerizing and you could feel him trying to read your very soul. “You look at me as if I’m the only person in the world,” you whispered to him, loving the fact that he didn’t care that you were human. He had before, but that was long ago at the beginning of the journey.
“You aren’t,” he whispered back as a question. “Stay here with me, my Dunedain. I want you to be here by my side.”
You pulled away from him and turned back to the table, leaning on your hands that were splayed across the stone. “I cannot.”
The room was silent, the dwarf soaking up your answer. “Why not?” He was no longer whispering, his voice filled with a sound you thought you’d never hear: hurt.
“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield, more than you will ever know, but I cannot settle down yet. There are places I have not yet seen and battles I have yet to fight. The woman in me longs to stay here with you, but the ranger that courses through my blood is calling for adventure.” You turned back to him, a gasp leaving your lips at how quickly the light from your lover had dwindled.
Thorin was building his defenses again, you could feel it. His eyes seemed to darken and all his happiness of moments ago had vanished. “So now that the journey is done, you plan to just leave? It’s that easy for you?” He sat in a nearby chair as if a weight had fallen upon him and he couldn’t stand anymore.
You knelt in from of him, your hand finding his which he did not pull away. “I’m not leaving forever, my love. I will come back and I’ll be with you for the rest of our days. I just need a little more time; can I please have that?”
Thorin knew there was nothing he could do to persuade you to stay, not even telling you to never come back. Threats didn’t work on you any more than bribes did. He felt so torn inside at knowing you wanted to leave, but at the same time he understood. This was the first time he had ever felt like he was supposed to stay somewhere because he belonged. He knew you felt the same way about him; that you felt you belonged with him. “As much as I dread it, can you promise me that you’ll come back?”
In a surprised tone you asked, “What, no threats or anything?”
“I know they do not work on you and it would just keep you away from me longer. I’m a selfish dwarf and I want you back here as soon as I can have you. Now, do you promise?” His hand caressed yours, the other playing with a lock of your hair.
“I promise, King Thorin Oakenshield, that I will come back to be with you.” You kissed his hand, enjoying the small smile you saw on his lips.
“Then you get to explain it to the others before you go.”
@shethereadinghobbit tagged me in an appreciation post for the people you see on your dash that make you smile (i hope you don't mind that i'm posting mine separately!)
and there's a bunch of people on here that make me smile! whether i'm talking to them or not, new and not so new, i'm always like 'hey it's those guys :D' (and to those of you who go through my blog and a like/reblog spree sometimes, i see you and you're great)