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linasofia · 1 year

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A Shooting Star

Part 3

Fandom: The Hobbit

Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Vega

Summary: Lady Vega loves to sneak out to Erebor’s rampart to study the night sky, but one night, an unexpected visitor joins her. It is the beginning of a story whose end only the stars can tell.

Warnings: none

A/N: This is the third part of this fic. You can find the previous parts here.

Balin read the edict in his hand and then met Thorin’s steadfast gaze.

”Thorin, are you certain of this? I agree with you, the ancient books are in need of restoration, but not many dwarves care for old tales about the stars these days.”

”They should, Balin,” Thorin growled. ”The tales are fascinating. Some of them actually tell our history—our legacy—both the good and the bad. And it’s done in a less heavy way than any of the dusty books I read with my tutor as a young boy.” He pointed at the thickest of them all; a book with a leather cover adorned with seven stars. ”Have you ever read this one, Balin?”

The prudent white-haired dwarf in front of him shook his head, and his long beard swayed.

”You—who have read more books than anyone I know—are not familiar with the true gems in the Royal Library?” A small mocking lingered in Thorin’s voice, but Balin chose to ignore it. Instead, he shifted tactics.

”Why are you suddenly so interested in our conservators’ works? Not only do you interfere with the planning, you interrupt their current work too. Master Kvasir will most certainly question your personal interest in these books.”

”Then let him come with his questions,” Thorin muttered, and the thought of the unpleasant—but highly skilled—Master Kvasir made his mood sour. ”I do not think I need to explain my motives to him, or anyone else.”

Balin raised a hand in defense. ”I do not mean to question your motives, I am merely asking out of curiosity.” Thorin glared at him, and Balin knew better than to keep pushing his old friend for a reason he was certain he would find out sooner or later anyway. ”Very well,” he stretched his back and folded the edict, ”we shall see it done.”

***

A paper scroll with the king’s wax seal was open and on full display on the dining table when Vega returned from her visit to the seamstress. Neither her father nor mother seemed to be home, and therefore she dared to read the letter without permission. Her father’s post was clearly not for her eyes, but she could not resist when she saw the royal blue ribbon next to the roll. Only members of the royal family were allowed to use that specific shade of blue, and it was easily recognizable. The letter contained an invitation to the welcome banquet upon Lord Dain’s arrival, something Vega had never attended before. Usually, the king’s cousin stayed for a couple of weeks at the time, and several feasts were held in the meantime—all meant to entertain the large entourage traveling with him. The invitation was for the whole family, and Vega wondered what her father would say of such an event. Especially now, when the news about the delayed building start for the new giant furnace was fresh in his mind. He had worked so long for this—an opportunity to double Erebor’s capacity—and due to a single error in the agreement, King Thorin refused to sign it. She stroked the letter, fully aware that the king did not write it himself, but her heart made a flip at the thought of potentially seeing him soon again. Thorin. She closed her eyes and summoned the picture of him from their last meeting on the rampart. A sigh fell from her trembling lips—he was so distracting.

Vega did not have to wait long for an answer to her question; her father brought up the topic during their family dinner the following evening. He was pleased to finally receive an invitation to the prestigious welcome banquet, a night reserved only for the kings’s closest circle. It was considered a great honor to be invited and it was said the king used to redraw that circle every year, depending on the performance of his advisors and negotiators. Vega’s father had always worked hard and finally, he was rewarded in a way he thought was fitting for an advisor with his reputation. He admitted the invitation arrived at the very last minute, but it was clear that he could overlook this minor mistake from the royal administration. As she listened to her father’s too-long explanation of his important work, her mind drifted, as it did so often recently, to the alluring sound of the king’s deep voice. She longed to hear him speak again, and a small seed of envy grew in her heart as she thought of how her father often spent hours in the king’s presence. Vega wished it was her. She knew her father sacrificed a lot for his work, but her silly heart kept whispering about another—more unrealistic—reason for the invitation. Ashamed of her ungrateful thought, she lowered her gaze and finished her meal in silence.

King Thorin’s cousin, Lord Dain of the Iron Hills, arrived at the front gate of Erebor on a misty afternoon when the grass was damp and the air smelled of wet soil. The red-bearded lord instantly pulled attention to himself by refusing to wait for the welcome committee; he simply marched directly to the royal wing and demanded to see his kin. Dain was not a man of small words or gestures; he was big, loud and with a fiery temper—just as his cousin. Nobody who saw Dain that afternoon doubted what he longed for the most after his journey; amber-colored ale, strong Dorwinion wine, and smoked meat in large portions.

The welcome banquet would be held the following evening, not in the main hall where a very large number of people could fit, but in a smaller hall, closer to the royal wing. As Vega stood by her mirror and watched the maid tie her corset on her back, she felt nervous. The thought of the king—Thorin—had kept her awake far longer than she intended, and when she woke in the morning, she had dark shadows under her eyes. But her mother discreetly slipped her a small jar and told her to put the smooth content on the skin. Whatever miracle her mother had hidden in her drawer worked, and Vega now looked as if she had never slept better. Her hair was arranged in a festive creation, with only a few locks framing her face. The maid held up her gown and Vega easily slipped into it and patiently waited while the maid finished her work. Vega’s mother was a modest woman, despite their increasing status, but when it came to clothing on gatherings of this dignity, she was very specific in her demands. Lady Vanadis would never accept anything less than the best for her family. Vega had accepted it for evenings like this, as part of their new lifestyle, but she was not really comfortable with having someone else dress her.

When Vega entered the banquet hall, she tried to focus on her conversation with her mother, but her gaze expectantly searched among the many faces in the hall, and it did not take long before she spotted the real reason for the excitement she felt in her chest. The king was in deep conversation with his cousin, and among the guests next to him, she noticed both his nephews and the captain of the royal guards. King Thorin had not seen her, and it gave her the possibility to admire him from a distance. Vega put on a kind smile, mingled with advisors and their families, was greeted by people she dreaded she would never be able to remember the name of, and gave polite hugs to a few daughters in her father’s small circle of friends.

Massive tables stood head to head, creating long aisles between them and at the end—the table of honor—reserved for King Thorin, members of the royal family, and a large number of the king’s legendary company. Food and beverages were carried from the kitchen by an endless stream of servants, and no plates remained empty for long. The wealth of Erebor was flaunted—a reminder of the enormous treasure safely secured deep in the Mountain. Vega secured a good seat for herself, far from the king, obviously, but she could spot him if she leaned back a little. She was accompanied by a merry group of women, who—unlike her—found banquets and balls a perfect opportunity to see what was on the exclusive market, as they unashamedly called it.

Dinner lasted—as always, under the Mountain—for many hours. Vega’s mother was seated next to her father at another table and Lady Vanadis had insisted on Vega being allowed to choose her own place instead of the awful suggestion her father had; next to the son of one of King Thorin’s top negotiators. The son went in his father’s footsteps and had already made a name for himself. Privately, his reputation was far from pleasant; he was an unpredictable snake; he would always smile but hide a dagger behind his back, ready to threaten or even stab if he found it necessary. Vega assumed her father had no knowledge of the rumors surrounding the young lord, but she was relieved she did not have to endure yet another dinner in the company of a potential suitor. Even though she was a grown woman, her father still tried to steer her in the direction he thought was suitable.

As the endless servings finally ebbed, dwarves from all tables rose to stretch their full bellies, exchange words with new acquaintances, or just refill their pints from the large barrels waiting along one of the walls. Even though her company was far more enjoyable than she first expected, Vega still felt the need to be alone for a short while. A break, a chance to breathe without the constant chatter in her ears, would do her good. She excused herself and walked, without even a glance over her shoulder, out from the banquet hall.

The huge corridor held a more pleasant temperature, and the air was not filled with the heavy smell of roasted meat and ale. She took a deep breath and let her shoulders relax. A few moments were all she needed; nobody would know or miss her. Especially not her parents—or the very occupied king. She was not even sure he had seen her. But what had she been expecting? That he would come and sweep her off her feet, like the hero in that book she loved to read as a young girl? Or ask her to join him at his table, in front of his kin and friends? Vega sighed—it was ridiculous.

Dain was just telling Thorin about some recent raid of orcs near the Iron Hills when Thorin suddenly witnessed Vega rising from her table and walking out of the hall. It took him only a blink of an eye to decide, but he quickly got on his feet, muttering a few words to Dain about his needs after the many pints they had been drinking. His cousin let out a rumbling laugh and turned his drunken focus to Fili, seated on his other side. Thorin had seen Vega the moment she entered the hall together with Lord Vimar and his wife, but since his advisor was seated separately from his daughter, Thorin found no excuse good enough to approach her. Now, however, he saw an opportunity too good to miss.

He used the side door—the shortcut to the royal wing—but it gave him the possibility to leave the room without raising questions. If he hurried, he could make it to the other side, catch a glimpse of where she was going and eventually make her aware of his presence. He hastened, in a very unkingly manner, down the corridor, and just as he predicted, he saw her as soon as he turned around the corner. Thorin had to force himself to slow down; it would not make a good impression if he came storming after her. Vega had stopped by the large tapestry hanging to the left of the entrance to the hall. It was a beautiful piece—created to impress—and welcome guests to his kingdom. She must have heard him, because she turned when he came closer and the expression on her face made his heart sing. Thorin stopped at a respectable distance, suddenly uncertain if his presence would make her uncomfortable. They were alone for the moment, but a large group of dwarves were laughing and singing on the other side of the colossal stone wall. He tried to make up a reason for his sudden appearance, but as her beautiful emerald eyes widened in surprise, he found none. At least not one he could tell her. Not here. Maybe never.

Vega did not believe her eyes when she saw who was approaching her from an unexpected direction. As the king stopped in front of her, she curtsied gracefully—deeply affected by the powerful aura surrounding him. His dark hair resembled the night sky, with the light from a hundred tiny shooting stars creating the silver strands in his thick mane. His temple braids were recently braided, and his beard was trimmed to perfection. The black tunic was generously embroidered with thick golden threads, and a sharp line of gorgeous dark chest hair peeked up from the open collar. Vega swallowed hard at the sight and forced herself to meet the king’s azure gaze. The raven crown rested on his head, and Vega could not remember seeing Thorin more regal than at this moment.

“Lady Vega.” His deep voice made her shiver. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.” A small smile danced over his lips, and Vega noticed how his upper lip twitched as he waited for her reply. Confused thoughts crossed her mind. Was it possible that she was right in her silly imagination; had the letter been sent to her father with the intention of bringing her to the banquet? Surely her mind was playing tricks on her again, just as it had done on the cold rampart.

“My father was very honored, My King. Thank you.”

“And how are you faring this evening? Would you rather be watching the stars?” The twinkle in his eyes brought a smile to Vega’s face.

“There will be other nights to study the sky.”

“And other full moons,” he added. Then he lowered his voice and leaned in ever so slightly, but it was enough to make Vega’s heart beat faster. “Together, I hope.”

“I hope so too,” she whispered, but as soon as the words fell from her lips, she realized she had allowed him to see too much of her feelings. But he smiled back at her, the same warm smile that kept her awake the previous night. And she could not help thinking that he was a thief—dressed like a king—for he had truly stolen her heart.

Thorin watched Vega as her eyes glimmered, and when the sweetest blush spread on her smooth cheeks, he wondered what path her thoughts took. Could it be him—did his presence affect her in any way? He could not ask her; it would be highly unseemly, but deep down, he hoped he was the reason for her delicious reaction. He knew he was older than her—maybe even too old—but she awoke a longing in him, a feeling he accepted years ago was never meant for him. His obligations to his people and the safety of his family had always been his highest priority, and he fulfilled both duties without even thinking of his own sacrifice. Vega, however, was shaking the pillars he was standing on. His inner vault was trembling.

“I bring news which I hope you will find interesting.” He grasped a sensible reason to stay with her for a little while longer.

“My King?”

”Please, Thorin for now.”

Vega smiled apologetically but nodded. It was easier to try to think of him as only Thorin when he was not wearing the legendary crown on his head.

“I made inquiries regarding the books in the Royal Library. There is a fine collection of old books with star maps and they are all to be restored. We cannot allow them to be neglected any longer, they are simply too valuable for future generations.”

“This is fantastic news!” He could hear the amazement in her voice. ”Thank you, for letting me know of this important work.”

Vega’s face lit up in the most beautiful smile, and Thorin wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her. The exquisite gown she was wearing made him slightly dizzy, as it offered him a delightful glimpse of her body's curves. She wore her hair up and it brought his attention to her exposed, delicate neck. Her skin appeared to shimmer, and it made Thorin think that Vega truly was a rare gem. One of a kind. If anyone could match the raw beauty of the Arkenstone, it was her.

”I am glad it brings you joy, Vega.”

He really meant it; Thorin thought as he stored the memory of her warm exclamation in his heart. She had reacted exactly how he wanted, and his satisfaction mingled with her joy, until he suddenly came to think of the reason behind their possibility to meet tonight. His cousin was probably already questioning everybody at their table where the King Under the Mountain was. Thorin would have preferred to stay in Vega’s company for a while longer, but he knew far too well what would happen if Dain spotted him with a beautiful, unmarried lady. He would never hear the end of it.

”Now, if you will please excuse me, I need to see if my cousin is still reasonable,” Thorin declared with a smirk. Dain’s drinking games were well–known, and he often challenged Dwalin to follow him. ”If I do not have the pleasure of speaking with you in private again, I wish you a good night.” He allowed himself to linger in her warm gaze one final time, but when he turned to leave, his boots felt unusually heavy. ”I will see you beneath the full moon, Vega.”

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#thorin oakenshield #thorin #the hobbit #thorin x oc #erebor #richard armitage #fanfic #thorin fic #thorin fanfic #pining #the hobbit fanfic #a shooting star

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jerakeenc · 3 years

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many kidfics i’ve read and loved

look who’s reccing a million year old fics now. kidfics, very many. posted to dw for snowflake, thought I’d copy here as well. will be reading most, if not all. if you don’t hear from me again, this list is the culprit.

101 Ways To Get Lucky (In Love) by lenore

18,200 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Rodney McKay is rich, gorgeous and at the top of his game—except someone just moved the goalposts! Now Rodney realizes he is sorely lacking the one status symbol that everybody seems to have…the perfect family. Rodney needs help, so he hires a relationship coach. Single-dad John Sheppard may be an expert, but not when it comes to his own relationships! And every day he spends with Rodney makes him wish that he could be the one to fill the vacancy in Rodney's life…

A Beautiful Lifetime Event by astolat

29,000 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

An Earlier Heaven by regann

67,400 words | X-Men, Erik/Charles

In the wake of Cuba, Charles and his students are ready to pick up the pieces and work toward achieving Charles's dream of a safe haven for young mutants. Those plans, however, take a surprising turn thanks to a very unexpected complication. As he slowly builds a future for his students and for his child, Charles struggles with the loss of Erik and the secrets he's willing to keep to protect his family, but those strides are shattered when Erik makes a startling reappearance into his life. [mpreg, kidfic, ensemble]

And everything nice by noelia_g

30,200 words | Social Network, Mark/Eduardo

The one where Mark somehow ends up with a child and of course needs a nanny for the amount of time he spends at the office. Only problem is a string of nannys keep trying to get into his pants for what he assumes is his money. Cue Mark's assistant hiring a male nanny, enter Eduardo.

asking to be born by longtime_lurker

26,500 words | Bandom, Pete/Patrick

"Don't worry, it's probably just his big gay freakout," Andy yells cheerfully and unhelpfully into Patrick's ear as they're hustling Pete over to the nearest private clinic.

Better with You by harriet_vane

38,100 words | 1D, Liam/Louis

Based on this prompt at the kinkmeme:

Single parent and solo artist Liam Payne hires Louis Tomlinson to be a full time nanny to his four year old son Sammy. Although the two men don't quite click from the start it's love at first sight between Sammy and Louis. Eventually Louis and Liam warm up to each other and get on like a house on fire, in fact the two become a little too fond of each other.

I refuse to apologize for how sweet this ended up, okay? It's kidfic, I am forever writing kidfic, and this one is even kid-fic-ier than usual.

Can't Get Enough of You (Baby) by eternalbreath

22,100 words | Inception, Arthur/Eames

Eames vanishes from dreamshare and Arthur goes a little crazy looking for him until he stumbles across him -- with a baby.

Chelsea, Chelsea, I Believe by empathapathique

300,800 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

Patrick meets a girl his rookie year.

Don't You Shake Alone by dsudis

62,180 words | Generation Kill, Brad/Nate

Nate looked exactly like Brad always pictured him: exhausted in the full life-in-a-combat-zone sense of the word.

Dude, what's a bulwark? by kellifer_fic

12,150 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

Beacon Hills is the kind of small town where everybody knows everybody, and what everybody knows is that surly diner owner Derek Hale and free spirited single dad Stiles Stilinski have been in love with each other for years. If only they knew it too.

Every Other Beautiful World by rhiannonhero

43,280 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Some things are unexpected but still inevitable in every beautiful world.

Forever, Now by harriet_vane

227,100 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard, Jon/Spencer, Brendon/Ryan, Brian/Greta

Brian rescues kid!Gerard and Mikey from life on the streets, and eventually everyone finds a family.

here comes the sun by oflights

56,600 words | Social Network, Mark/Eduardo

This is a story about growing up, sad 70's rock songs, too much hair gel, "Maxwell's Silver Hammer", a baby with curly hair, a Geiger counter, a dog that isn't named Max, the Chicken Dance, Cheerios, pepper-spray, drugs, sex, and a stuffed chicken named Cluckerberg, nicknamed Cluck. or: Mark raises Sean's accidental baby, and I write the fluffiest thing ever.

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn

163,700 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like:

Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi.

Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now.

Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations.

Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order.

But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

I Would Be by cathalin

20,290 words | American Idol, Kris/Adam

AU. Adam and Kris meet a few years down the road, when down-on-his-luck Kris and his young daughter Katherine show up to rent a room from Adam, who never made it to an Idol audition.

Ice Ice Baby by uraneia

51,340 words | Hockey, Claude/Danny

A gold medal isn't the only souvenir Claude brings home from Prague.

OR: The one where Claude gets drunk, gets pregnant, and gets convinced to move in with Danny, whom he's been secretly in love with for years. What could possibly go wrong?

my heart is bigger than the distance in between us by estrella30

15,000 words | 1D, Nick/Harry

Nick chuckles quietly but grabs the remote and follows Emma, Aimee coming up close behind him. It’s indeed Harry on the telly, singing along to his latest radio hit and smiling slowly into the camera far too seductively for half eight on a Friday morning, if you ask Nick. He presses the volume just in time to catch the crowd’s roaring applause and see the pink flush Harry’s cheeks. Nick watches him duck his head as he gives a small wave to the audience, and it hits Nick that Harry is still the most humble and appreciative billionaire Nick’s ever met.

Good job, popstar, Nick thinks to himself.

or, Nick is a single dad and Harry is his bff and it's a bunch of years into the future and they fall in love

Once Upon a Furry Octopus by skoosiepants

11,270 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

He was an intelligent, intuitive pet, but he wasn’t going to start sniffing out ZPMs or hidden Ancient weaponry or detailed instructions on how to kill a Wraith with a common household item. A pen, for instance.

Reconcilable Differences by astolat

40,000 words | Smallville, Clark/Lex

Luthor Family Values.

Shelter by harriet_vane

63,500 words | Social Network, Jesse/Andrew

From the kinkmeme prompt: Some sort of AU vaguely based on Shelter! For whatever reason, Jesse has to take care of Hallie and give up his dream of being an actor. He ends up working in a dead end job when former, now successful friend (Andrew) returns home. They fall in love, etc, only Jesse can't go away with him because he has a responsibility to his family. CUE ANGST.

Show Me The Way Back Home Baby by stilinskisparkles

15,000 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world's cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy-- the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

Skybird by windsweptfic

33,785 words | Inception/White Collar, Arthur/Eames

Arthur and Eames adopt a kid and raise that kid into Neal Caffrey.

Small Cells and Fibers by sevenfists

7,830 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

Tuesdays were finger-painting days. Frank made sure to wear his oldest pair of jeans, because even with his full-length apron and his constant reminders that paint belongs on paper and not on clothing, he always ended up with tiny, multi-colored handprints all over his clothes. There wasn't a thing he could do about it, so he just wore pants from 1995.

Small Primes and Square Roots by liviapenn

12,500 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

"I hope you picked someone really intelligent, otherwise it seems like it would be kind of a waste. Of incubation time, if nothing else."

So Wise We Grow by deastar

81,250 words | Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/Spock

"Commander Spock, we have located your son," the Vulcan lady on the screen says, which would be great, except Jim can tell by the look on Spock's face that he's never heard of this kid before in his life. "If it is expedient, the child will be sent to join you on the Enterprise within the week."

Something Better by lovelypoet

18,350 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

"We all have to take jobs we don't like sometimes, you know?"

The Next Time You Say Forever by Thistlerose

27,300 words | Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/McCoy

After his ex-wife's death, McCoy is forced to leave the Enterprise to look after his teenage daughter. Under normal circumstances, this would be the end of…whatever it is he has with Kirk that's more than friendship, but less than what he wants. But the universe has other intentions.

The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews by jezziejay

15,900 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat.

AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe

117,430 words | Hobbit, Thorin/Bilbo

In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End.

He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

This Story Was Brought to You by Our Sponsors by scaramouche

29,500 words | Supernatural, Dean/Castiel

Dean's post-apocalyptic life is a friggin' soap opera. Romance! Angst! Separations! Reunions! Pizza Dinners! A Child Dean Never Knew He Had! It's all very dramatic.

throw a little sparkle all over it by etben

26,000 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

"Hey, Ma," Mikey says. "No, everything's fine—well, I mean, Gerard accidentally adopted a baby—no, he's changing her now, he can't talk."

Tiny Houses by ohmyjetsabel

77,130 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

Tip, Slide, Tumble by j_s_cavalcante

42,900 words | due South, Fraser/Kowalski

Ray knew when he found the body in the alley it was going to change someone's life. He just didn't expect that life would be his.

Turn by saras_girl

306,000 words | Harry Potter, Harry/Draco

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Unless it's lies or it's love by sprat

25,300 words | American Idol, Kris/Adam

In which Adam (a rock star) meets Kris (a single dad) at an Emergency Room in Arkansas at the end of a particularly shitty night. Also features: San Francisco, fresh starts, baked goods, OCs, cameo appearances by Matt and Megan, pirates, monsters with garbage heads and a recording studio.

What Child Is This by lamardeuse

30,150 words | Merlin, Arthur/Merlin

A modern AU with Merlin, Arthur, mayhem, a baby and a jingly elf hat.

What to Expect by arsenic

29,200 words | Bandom, Bob/Mikey

Mikey has his band, and his little girl, and that's enough. Really, it is.

Winter's Children by neery

66,890 words | Marvel, Bucky/Steve

When their attempts to recreate the super soldier serum failed, Hydra started trying to breed Captain America clones from his genetic samples. Unfortunately, the serum's effects aren't passed down genetically, so instead of an army of tiny Captain Americas, they get a bunch of tow-headed, asthmatic, allergic, immuno-compromised little Steves.

And then the Winter Soldier stumbles across Hydra's failed experiment...

With Six You Get Eggroll by speranza

31,000 words | due South, Fraser/Kowalski

"Kick 'em In The Head: A Guide To Parenting."

ETA: Bonus! Because I apparently lost my bookmark for this one but have the memory of an elephant for kidfic, so it came to me eventually. :D

A Farm in Iowa 'Verse by sheafrotherdon

166,000 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

John inherits a farm, Rodney ends up entirely out of his element, and there is much ado about baseball.

#kidfic #recs

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brglhobbit · 3 years

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Where do you get ideas for your Bagginshield doodles? Do you actively think of something cute you want to draw or do you notice things happeningd around you and go "oh let's try drawing something featuring this!"?

Hello! 🌼☺️

Very rarely I just sit and actively think about cute things to draw. Usually it's the other way around, I sit down to draw and don't think much, sometimes an idea pops up, sometimes not. I'll just keep drawing and without an idea I usually end up doing a hug or some sort of cuddly thing. So yea, next time I post a hug picture you can assume I had no better idea for a drawing lol

Many ideas and concepts come from real life, conversations and things I see, and also I like to reflect my own interests and thoughts into my drawings. Sometimes a friend sends a picture of their cat and I get inspired to draw a hobbit in the same pose as the cat or when I'm feeling down and tired I draw my grumpy expression on a cute little hobbit and can't help but feel a tiny bit better immediately. Around Christmas I drew a lot of really desperate hobbits because I was so tired of my relatives and all the fussing about the holidays. Drawing hobbits enthusing about mushrooms and plants is also me projecting my own interests big time. And it's conveniently even canon!

Also a lot of inspiration for my drawings comes from the massive amounts of media I've consumed and that includes shows, movies, social media, pop culture, etc, anything really. I often use images I see as a vague reference for a pose or for the vibe or dynamic between characters. And that can even get problematic because you know, where goes the line between influence, inspiration, reference and copying and stealing. I think about these things a lot! To be honest I have been dreading the day that someone asks me where do you get your ideas from or how did you come up with that because I look at other people's artwork so much that at this point I doubt if I can trust my brain to remember if I generated all my ideas with my own imagination or did I see it somewhere before and just process it in my mind. I love clichés and overused tropes so much that nothing I draw is probably super original but I would never intentionally steal anyone's ideas or copy anyone's art. That's just something I've been thinking about. Did I get too carried away I hope not..

To sum this all up, yes I blame a lot of this on my imagination but also plenty of inspiration and ideas I get from real life.

Thank you for the very good question!

#idk what to tag this #ask stuff #i need to post art soon before my blog becomes a wall of text

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elles-writing · 3 years

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The Sounds of Home - Kili x reader

Kili x reader

Requested: Yes, by @terri205

Request: Hello there - I read one of your previous posts about taking requests so here i am asking for a drabble or oneshot with some domestic life / husband x wife with children with Kili even though his character died I really cannot get over him. Hope you are still writing for him . ( dwarf x human if that helps .. also can the height difference be erased for now ? Yk Aidan is a tall boy 😁🙃 ) wish you having a great day!

Word count: around 3k

A/N: Of course!! I write a lot for Kili, because I feel like there’s not a lot of fanfics for him, that people actually think more of Fili and Thorin, but hey, this little cute pup needs love too! (Just like Lindir. He’s also adorable.) And I’ve red somewhere on Pinterest that Thorin is actually tall 5′2 ft, which is like only solid 2 inches smaller than me (okay, I’m barely 5′4 ft)!! And Kili’s only a bit smaller than Thorin!! I’ll look for that picture and if I find it, i’ll put it here.

A/N II: I feel like my writting sucks at most of this one, I’m so sorry! I wanted it to be much, much better, but I just somehow don’t really know how to rewrite it, so I’m posting it anyways. I want to write something similar in the future, so I’ll tag you to it.

A/N III: I wrote some extra part and edited it, so now I can say I’m quite happy with it!

Tw: pregnancy, mentions of sex

Okay, so here it is. I found it on pinterest, but it’s from tumblr @richardarmitagequotes . Here is the link to it.

Playlist you don’t have to listen, but I was writting during listening to these songs: Taylor Swift - cartigan, Taylor Swift - exile, The Chainsmokers - Paris, Porcelain Black - One Woman Army, Taylor Swift - august,

It was such a long time ago when did this happened...

This was how you started your children’s bedtime story, which was their favourite - it was the story of how did their parents - you and Kili - have met and long adventure that was avaiting behind them to reclaim Erebor. About you, a young human girl, who was curious and wanted to see the world, and him, young dwarf prince, who wanted to help to reclaim his home again. And surely wasn’t counting on finding love, but yet you were here - Kili, you and your children - living in a cottage a bit aside from Erebor and Dale.

It was a sunny day, you and your children working at the garden. You were in the middle of placing tomatoes to your handbasket, when a loud scream came to your ears. You looked up and sighed at the sight of your son scaring your daughter with earthworm on a stick, which was moving around.

“Vili, stop scaring Ainiel with that earthworm. Go back to taking out the carrots out, alright? And let Ainiel to pick the berries.” Your son shook his head and went back to taking out the carrots, putting the earthworm to his hand and mumbling something to it before putting it back to the hole, where was one big carrot before.

You looked at him by the corner of your eye. He has the same hair as his father, face features, very similar personality, the only thing was his eyes - they were brown with slight e/c in them. Your daughter has gotten her father’s hair texture, face shape and a bit of his joking personality, but from you she’ve gotten her bookworm-self, able to read all day, and thinking carefully about things. Otherwise, she would be your dupe.

You looked over to your youngest child - your second daughter, who was sitting in the grass and creating a flower tiara from daisies. When she was done, she jumped up and with squealing runned to her sister and putted the tiara on her head. She let out a bubbly laugh, as toddlers do, and runned to you.

“Mama, Ainiel is a princess! I am a princess! Mama is a princess!” And placed flowery tiara she finished earlier in your hair. You smiled and she sat down to you, looking up to sky.

“Is there going to be a storm?” You looked up and noticed the dark clouds, quickly approaching. You took your youngest daughter to your arms, your basket hanging from your forearm.

“Vili, take the carrots, Ainiel, take the basket with berries, Lila...” you looked in the toddler’s eyes.

“Hold your tiara, dearie.” You looked over the garden and noticed movement on the other side of the garden on your backyard. Then someting let out a ‘meow’.

It’s probably just some cat, you thought when a typical little furry tale glimpsed through the grass. It wasn’t unusual for cats to be wondering around your house, since in a Dale many people were having cats as pets.

When you were inside, a hard rain started. You sighed out, placed Lila and the basket with tomatoes down in the kitchen, and went over to fireplace to start a fire.

Once the room was filled with warm light and sound of cracking wood, your children started with washing and clearing the vegetables. Vili and Ainiel only, because Lila was sitting on the chair cuddled in blanket. She was afraid of thunders and storms, and even though there was no thunder, there was sometimes a lightning across the sky and she squealed and jumped up.

You made a luke-warm tea for Lila and while she was sipping it, you were cutting the vegetables and meat and cooking stew.

Once the meal was done, you looked out through the window. It was raining really hard still, so you decided to take your children and cuddle behind the fireplace with tea and either read to them or tell them some story.

Once you and your children sat down, blankets were all over the place and Vili and Lila fighting over one of them.

“Lila, give it to me, you have it all the time!”

“No, I want it! Give it to me!” Vili teared out the blanket from her hands and she squealed when she fell down. She started sobbing and then vailing. Vili’s eyebrows furrowed and he kneeled down to her.

“I’m so sorry, Lila, I didn’t wanted to hurt you! Look, you can take the bla-” She teared the blanket from his hands and stick out her tongue on him. He was surprised and inhaled, but Lila jumped on him and started beating his chest by her little fists.

“I’m as strong as you!” Vili squealed when she took his hair and started to pulling them. You quickly took her off of him, careful not to pull his hair more, but a few of them stayed in your daughter’s grasp.

“You’re getting way too energetic, young lady. What’s all this about?” You sat down and she was sitting in your lap.

“He wanted to take my blanket and I fell down.” She didn’t dared to look up at you.

“It’s because the two men in Dale two weeks ago were doing this?” She mumbled a response and you shook your head.

“Lila, that’s not how you are supposed to solve problems. First, you need to talk about it. Don’t be that-” then a loud thunder and sharp lightning scrossed the sky and Lila squeaked.

“M-momma, I’m so afraid!” She nuzzled to your chest and you wrapped a blanket around the two of you. Vili and Ainiel sat next to you, wrapped in blankets.

“Will you tell us the story, momma?” Ainiel asked you, breaking the silence. A slight smile stretched your lips.

“You already know that one backwards.”

“That’s not true, I cannot say it backwards!” Vili protested and Ainiel shook her head.

“That means we already know it really well, you dumb dwarf.” Lila let out a laugh.

“Will you tell us the part with Master Baggin’s home? The beginning?” Vili made a pleading puppy look, that he surely got from his father, and you sighed.

“Okay.”

“And that one when you confessed your love?” Ainiel asked. You smiled and nodded.

“I will. So, I came here with Balin, and I didn’t wanted to be rude, because, as you know, hobbits are peaceful beings and they don’t like when someone is rude, so I just sat aside. Then, there was another knock on the door, and I told him I will open. I opened the door, and there were two young dwarves, one with blonde hair and blue eyes and the other one with dark hair and brown eyes. Me and the younger one froze in spot and the whole Shire must’ve hear us, because we both screamed: ‘YOU?!’. It was that dwarf I saved from two orcs and kicked his butt before, calling him very...spicy names for doing such a stupid thing.”

“How did you called him?” Vili pleated. You’ve never told them, that first words adressed from you to their father were ‘What were you thinking, you fucking fool?! Two big orcs twice your size?! If I wouldn’t save you, you would be dead by now!’.

It was a few days since you’ve left your home for an adventure, where Gandalf invited you.

You were thankful to the few of dwarves that lived near the village you’ve lived in, whom teached your father how to fight, which he teached you. You could get a few nice hours of sleep at night, because you didn’t have to worry about not being able to defend yourself.

The next day, around a down, settling down your things to prepare for a camp, a loud scream cutted the silence. You looked up. It sounded as if somebody needed a help.

You quickly and as quietly as you could, runned to that spot. You looked through the bushes and noticed somebody - a male - trying to fight with two orcs double size of him. One of them was holding his leg, the other one his arm and he was trying to fight with them, but you assumed they took his weapons, since he had nothing but a dagger. You quickly let out an arrow, which went straight through orc’s head, and he fell dead. You jumped out of your hiding spot and the other one chuckled darkly in black speech. You growled and jumped aside when he was trying to catch you. He tried to stab you with his sword, but you were way too quick. You jumped up at tree stump and stabbed him by your sword in it’s back. The orc fell dead, down to the ground.

You looked over to that male - a dwarf, you thought, because of his ears and he was as tall as you - and he was staring at you with awe in his eyes. Adrenalin was still in you from the fight in your veins and you got angry.

“What were you thinking, you fucking fool?! Two big orcs twice your size?! If I wouldn’t save you, you would be dead by now!” He snapped from his expression and quickly started gathering his weapons.

“I didn’t needed help, you know?! I could-I would be able to win over them!” You snorted in very un-lady like way while taking out your sword and arrow.

“Of course, but before that, you would be their dinner.” You looked over your shoulder and shook your head. No. He has just stupid brown puppy eyes.

“That’s not true!” He got angry, slightely offended. You smirked.

“All right then. You’d be their midnight snack.” You chuckled when noticed his face to redden and looked away to get to your place where you wanted to camp.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that man since then. And your angry behaviour, which you were quite sorry for.

“That’s not appropiate for your ears, children. So, where did I ended? Oh, I know!” Vili and Ainiel shimmed closer to you.

“Then, the blonde one looked at both of us and asked: ‘Where do you know each other from?’. The brown-haired muttered something under his breath and I sighed. ‘I didn’t wanted to be so rude, you know?’ He looked up at me, eyes wide, mouth slightely open and cheeks red. I got into house and...who do you think was that?” You asked your children and Ainiel, the quick thinker, was first one to answer that.

“Uncle Fili and Adad, mommy!” She grinned and you stroke her hair.

“Excellent. Now-” You inhaled to talk again, but Ainiel interrupted you.

“Now the wedding, mommy! How was the wedding? Was it big? Was it beautiful?” Her face lighted up in happiness, that was her favourite part. Vili just snorted.

“Girls. Why the wedding? It’s so boring!” You chuckled.

“One day you will find your own significant other and you won’t be snorting at the mention of weddings, because you will be the eager one to plan it all out.” Said voice behind you. You and your children turned around and found your soaking-wet, but madly-grinning husband. Vili squealed, excited, and while trying to get to him, be tripped over his own legs and blanket and landed at the floor. Lila’s fluttered open and she yawned as she woke up from her slumber, and once she noticed her father, she squealed in joy and tried to get to him, her arms opened for a hug.

“Adad! You’re home!” He picked Vili up from the floor and with a grin on his face, he picked up Lila too and spun them around. The sight of him with your children, his face lighted up with joy and absolute adoration for them was a thing that made you to appreciate every single moment like that you had.

Kili placed his two children to the ground, and even if all three of them were wet now, they didn’t really cared. You stood up.

“Now, I see, you are ready to change in something dry.” Kili looked over to Vili and Lila.

“Who’s going to be the first one changed, gets the most cookies!” Before you could even blink, Vili and Lila were already rushing to their rooms to change, and Kili went to your bedroom to change, too.

Ainiel turned to you.

“What about the wedding, mommy? How was it?” You sat down to her.

“So, at first, it was before the battle of five armies. Me and your father, your uncle, nobody knew if we will survive, so we decided to do it without unnecessary formalities. We just changed vows, gifts, kissed and braided each other’s hair.” And lost our virginities that night.

“After the battle and when Dale and Erebor was rebuilded, we got married with all of the formalities that are necessary in royal family. It was a big and eventful wedding, very loud, too. Something like celebration on Durin’s Day, but three times louder, with more dancing.” She nodded with a serious expression.

* Extra *

After the dinner (and promised cookies, which got Vili and Lila) and when your children went to sleep, you and Kili stayed together in the living room, cuddled under a blanket.

„How was your day, amralime?“ You asked him while making circles inside his palm. Kili softly kissed the top of your head.

„Uneventful and boring, givanshel. Meeting got longer today, and thanks to the storm, I was even more late than I would be. How was today for you, my precious queen?“ You felt his hand lazily making circles over the fabric on your stomach and smiled.

„Just like any other day, my dear husband. Two out of our three children took their personality after you, making every day an adventure,“ He softly chuckled and kissed your temple from the back.

„It all started with one adventure,“ He said in a low voice. You sighed softly.

„Yes, indeed it did. But I saved your butt before that adventure,“ His fingers started to make way to your hips and sides.

„Of course, my dear wife,“ He started tickling you, and you tried to giggle as quietly as possible to not to wake the children. You turned around, so you now faced Kili and sat on his lap. You kissed his nose, then his lips, and he smiled to the kiss. He pulled you closer.

„Mhmm, amralime,“ He whispered when you pulled away for air. You pushed a few strands of his hair out of his face, looking deep to his loving brown eyes

„You should go to sleep. You are tired,“ You said. He raised a brow.

„I can stay awake as long as you’d like me to.“ His eyes got that mischievous spark you knew way too well.

„I may be in love with you, but you cannot fool me, my precious prince.“ You kissed his cheek softly.

„So you want to say you’d turn down an opportunity for making love on the floor, or just right here, right now?“ You gasped and punched his shoulder softly.

„Kili!“ His sparkling eyes were watching you, while his lips tugged up into a smirk.

„You didn’t minded that when we moved in,“ He winked at you and your cheeks burned red.

„You’re right,“ You muttered and he laughed.

„But I wanted to talk to you about something...something else,“ You nervously rubbed your hands together. He furrowed his brows and cupped your cheek in his palm, making you to look at him.

„What’s wrong, Amralime?“ You felt his body tense. He was fully awake, and you just shook your head with a small smile.

„Nothing is wrong.“

„What is it, then?“ You placed his palm to your stomach. Kili’s eyes widened in realization, experiencing this for the fourth time.

„Are you-are you really-do you mean-?“ You slowly nodded.

„Around a week,“ A grin stretched across his lips and he took you to his arms, kissing your whole face, dancing around your living room.

„We’re going to have another baby, I cannot-oh Mahal, I can’t believe that!“ He kissed your lips with a smile.

„You need to rest, givanshel.“ He started walking towards your bedroom.

„I can walk on my own, Kili.“ You laughed and he kissed your temple as he kicked the door to your bedroom open.

„Well, you need to rest a lot now, so no walking for you, my love.“ He placed you down to your shared bed and you giggled.

„I need to walk at some point. Who will cook?“ Kili kicked off his boots and laid to you, placing you to his chest and resting his palm on your still flat belly. He kissed your temple and blinked, so he wouldn’t start crying out of pure happiness.

„You know how it ended up every time you ever tried to cook,“ You reminded him and he grimaced.

„Oh, c’mon amralime, I’m not that bad at cooking!“

„You cutted yourself while cutting the vegetables and then burned the soup.“

„Oh hush amralime,“ He muttered and you laughed.

„Amad was giving me a cooking lessons,“ He blurted out suddenly. You raised a brow and turned to him.

„When we were over for Durin’s day last year. Well, rather Amad was teaching me, while Lila and Ainiel were watching over the kitchens in general, and Vili, well,“ He looked sleepishly down on you.

„Vili was messing around with Fili,“ You rolled your eyes.

„I’ve noticed them, of course. I’m glad Erebor is still standing,“ You both chuckled and he started rubbing small circles on your belly. You sighed and hugged your husband closer. He kissed your forehead.

„Sleep, Amralime. You need to rest.“

„You too, Amralime. Good night.“

„Good night, my princess.“

#kili x reader #kili x you #kili #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit au #kili durin #kili-x-reader #request

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warrioreowynofrohan · 3 years

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Today in Tolkien - March 16th

The last ten days of Frodo and Sam’s journey tend to blur together for me into “Frodo and Sam walk across Mordor,” so hopefully this post series will be a chance for me to develop a clearer picture of things. In particular, I want to get a better sense of how Aragorn’s march against Mordor contributes to Frodo and Sam’s journey, and the relative locations of both groups at different times.

In Minas Trith, the chapter “The Last Debate,” takes place on the 16th, as Legolas and Gimli talk with Merry and Pippin and recount their journey by the Paths of the Dead, to Pelargir, and up the river, and the commanders (advised by Gandalf) decide to throw their forces into a feint attack against Mordor to distract Sauron from the Ring-bearer. Present at the latter meeting are Gandalf, Aragorn, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth (as the current regent for the rule of Minas Tirith, since Aragorn has not yet taken up the kingship), Éomer King of Rohan, and Elladan and Elrohir. (I hadn’t realized until now that the latter two were present. This is the closest we get to an open statement of the goal to convince Sauron that Aragorn has the Ring. Gandalf says:

“Sauron knows...that this precious thing which he has lost has been found again; but he does not yet know where it is, or so we hope. And therefore he is now in great doubt. For if we have found this thing, there are some among us with strength enough to wield it. That too he knows. For do I not guess rightly, Aragorn, that you have shown yourself to him in the Stone of Orthanc?”

“I did so ere I rode from the Hornburg,” answered Aragorn. “I deemed that the time was ripe, and that the Stone had come to me for just such a purpose. It was then ten days since the Ring-bearer went east from Rauros, and the Eye of Sauron, I thought, should be drawn out from his own land.”

Gandalf then adds:

“We could not learn how to wield the full power [of the Ring] all in a day. Indeed it can only be used by one master alone, not by many; and he will look for a time of strife, ere one of the great among us makes himself master and puts down the others...His doubt will be griwing, even as we speak here. His Eye is now straining towards us, blind to almost all that is moving. So we must keep it...We must call out his hidden strength, so that he shall empty his land.”

Aragorn agrees with this counsel, and it is the same as Elrond sends; Elrohir says: “From the North we came with this purpose, and from Elrond our father we brought this very council.”

Aragorn’s victories in South Gondor now become even more relevant, as the commanders consider the defence of Minas Tirith after they march out. Aragorn tells that he sent 4000 infantrymen marching north from Pelargir, with Angbor, Lord of Lamedor, leading a smaller cavalry force ahead of them; and that he told many others to follow him upriver by ship. So the commanders decide that they will set out on the morning of the 18th, once those South Gondorian reinforcements are at or near the city.

They plan to take an army of 7000 men - mostly infantry, because few horses will tolerate the evil lands around Mordor. Of these, 3500 will be men of Minas Tirith, 2000 will be men of South Gondor who came with Aragorn on the corsair ships, 1000 will be Rohirrim (500 cavalry and 500 infantry), and another 500 will be cavalry including the Dúnedain, Ellandin, Elrohir, and the knights of Dol Amroth, among others. Imrahil is right when he says that is is a laughably small force for attacking Mordor - it’s smaller than the army Saruman sent against Helm’s Deep!

Another 3000 Rohirrim cavalry led by Elfhelm will attack the Mordor army that is holding the road through Anórien towards Rohan.

So now we have the battle plan.

Returning to Frodo and Sam, we see the other side of the military conflict. In the morning they at last reach the eastern edge of the Morgai, the foothills of the mountains of Mordor. They look across the plains to Mount Doom, 40 miles or more away, and the plains are packed with the encamped armies of Mordor, both directly in front of them and away southwards as far as they can see. Frodo and Sam are right above one of the largest camps (if you look at the close-up map at the start of ROTK, it’s marked ‘Camp’, showing that Frodo and Sam have already gone a good ways north from Cirith Ungol).

At the moment, though Sauron is indeed focused on Aragorn, his moves have also made the situation quite hopeless for Frodo and Sam:

The Dark Power was deep in thought, and the Eye turned inward, pondering tidings of doubt and danger: a bright sword, and a stern and kingly face it saw, and for a while it gave little thought to other things...

Here the Dark Power, moving its armies like pieces on the board, was gathering them together. Its first moves, the first feelers of its strength, had been checked upon the western line, southward and northward. For the moment it withdrew them, and brought up new forces, massing them about Cirith Gorgor [the Black Gate] for an avenging stroke. And if it had also been its purpose to defend the Mountain against all approach, it could scarcely have done more.

In the absence of any other feasible options, Frodo and Sam decide to continue north for the moment, though Sam rationally sees little point in that: “Where it’s narrower the Orcs and Men will just be packed closer.” Going north doesn’t get them any closer to Mount Doom; rather the opposite.

They hide from an orc-patrol looking for them, one of whom kills the other and runs off. The orc mention having seen Gollum, poking around an orc-mail shirt that Frodo left behind the previous day because he found it too heavy; and Sam recounts the events of Cirith Ungol for Frodo. They rest for the remainder of the day and walk during much of the night.

It was difficult and dangerous moving in the night in the pathless land; but slowly and with much stumbling the two hobbits toiled on hour by hour northward along the eastern edge of the stony valley.

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #today in tolkien #gandalf #aragorn #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #sauron

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bengalaas · 3 years

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A Year In Review: 2020 Writing

This has been a strange year, to say the least, and it's weird to look back at the New Year's resolutions I had for it. Writing has been complicated, with little downtime from work and uni, and the lowkey stress permeating this whole plague situation has taken a bite out of my concentration and inspiration.

But here's a review of what I still managed to get done :)

I’ve seen a different end-of-year format making rounds, but I’m using the one from last year. So if you see this, feel free to either consider yourself tagged, or just take the tag as an expression of love and thanks ♥

Writing

My main writing resolution was to finish A Different Kind of Courage (Hobbit fic, Fili/Tauriel) in summer/autumn, but that didn't work out. I did write 27′500 words for it, and I'm not giving up on that rarepair pool noodle lol. At 43'400 words it's also my second longest fic to date :D

I added a 3800w chapter to Canticle of Chaos (Loki x Dragon Age crossover). By this point I'm pretty sure that fic is kinda cursed, so I'm writing it very slowly and only when I’m feeling lucky lol. Nevertheless, I think it's some of my best writing, and it's been a great exercise in “writing for yourself”.

I also translated a wonderful series, Lucky Heart (American Gods, Laura/Sweeney), 5600 words. I absolutely loved the rich mythological and metaphorical layers of the original, and it was a treat to try and reflect the author's style in English, playing with the rhythm and the word choices. Neither English, nor Russian are my native languages, so I’m double proud of this one!

Sometime in autumn I took an unexpected detour and fell into the tiny Varric/Merrill canoe and started a series Mirrors and Manuscripts, currently featuring 2 works at 6155 w total.

And some smaller things: I polished and posted an old F!Brosca & Zevran oneshot (No Honour in Dust, 1260w), and a curious writing experiment with M!Hawke/Isabela (Asyndeton, 1040w). I'm also slowly filling the “30 Days of OC” challenge with Martin Lavellan (5800w). And there were two other DA Drunk Writing drables, but they disappeared into the void whence they came from (I accidentally deleted them).

So that’s a total of 51′100 words, which I think is not bad, considering this fun year, and actually it’s 20k more than last year :D

Beta thanks

Still no beta, the bengalaas be wild and unspellchecked.

However, I’d like to thank @hollyand-writes for a betaing opportunity :) I’m sure there’s room for improvement in how I communicate my comments, and, being a non-native English speaker, there’s stuff I can’t really comment on, but diving into things critically is something I do enjoy, so — thanks for letting me :)

Progress

I think, this year I'm getting a bit better at finishing things. Oneshots and prompts definitely have forced me to focus on keeping the right amount of tension in my writing up until the end, and then to wrap it up nicely.

I’ve started compiling glossary lists with smut expressions and vocabulary lol, and also body language, facial expressions etc. Because it’s unbelievably frustrating to clearly picture what the character is doing and completely forget what’s that gesture called in English. Glossaries save me some time.

And also... I’m learning to let fics progress at their own pace. A reader reminded me in summer that a slowburn is a slowburn for a reason and it would be wrong to force it to move faster. It would break the authenticity of the story, of the characters. And when I was trying to push and finish a chapter recently, I again realised that the reason it’s not working is because I was ignoring the underlying truth of the story in favour of getting shit done. So. Truth ftw. Even if it takes its sweet time to emerge.

Community

My corner of the fandom has been wonderful, filled with talented, friendly people like @hollyand-writes, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, @lucyrne, @barbex, @cafeleningrad, @dorianpink, @serial-chillr, @dafan7711 and others. Thank you for being here and making this an inspiring, positive place! ♥

Additionally, raw respect for D, who made 100 lists x 30 prompts this year, and has been a staunch, supportive, positive voice in the fandom and an overall wonderful person.

I’ve also started talking with people more, and even joined the DA Drunk Writing Circle :D

Comments

I’ve been blown away by the comments I got on the Varric/Merrill oneshots, those were totally unexpected! Comments on the Lucky Heart series have felt so damn gratifying, for having been able to bring those stories to the English-speaking readers. Comments to Courage... they just warm my heart so much :))

Detailed, long-ass responses to the Varric/Merrill shots and to my own comments have been a delight. When discussions in the comment sections flood my email and AO3 starts to feel like a social media site... I live for it :))

2021

I’ll continue working on Courage and maybe puttering away on Canticle of Chaos. Maybe finish the 30 Days of Martin Lavellan series.

I don’t feel like starting any new multi-chapter fics, because I think that the next step for me would be to learn to plot properly and write a first draft before starting posting, and I just can’t see myself doing that next year lol.

I’d like to do more Dragon Age oneshots and prompts. Write something small and whimsical. Maybe Varric/Merill, since people seem to like it. I’d like to learn to write faster, so random prompts it is. Maybe I’ll finish playing DAI, for once. That might give fodder for new fics too.

And here’s a crazy idea lol, but maybe I should try writing something in my own native language next year XD

#beng's writing #bengruminations

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teachingmycattoread · 3 years

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Things We’ve Yelled About This Episode #16

The Hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien

The Lord of the Rings (films)

The Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien

The Silmarillion, J. R. R. Tolkien

This meme:

Harry Potter (aka The Boy Wizard), J. K. Rowling (as always, this podcast thinks Joke Rowling is full of shit, donate to your local trans charity today)

““There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell!”” Thorin Oakenshield, Chapter 18: The Return Journey

““If we don’t get blown off, or drowned, or struck by lightning, we shall be picked up by some giant and kicked sky-high for a football.”” Thorin Oakenshield, Chapter 4: Over Hill and Under Hill

This meme:

and these posts thereupon.

The Princess Bride, William Golding

“The mother of our particular hobbit – what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they call us.” Chapter 1: An Unexpected Party

The Three Plagues of Lludd’s town aka Cyfranc Lludd a Llefelys (wiki)

The Historia Regum Britanniae, Geoffrey of Monmouth (wiki)

Brut y Brenhinedd (wiki)

The Icelandic translation of Dracula (post)

Beowulf (wiki) - M recommends the Seamus Heaney or Tolkien translations, but they’re enjoying the Maria Dahvana Headley version immensely.

The Hobbit and LoTR as D&D campaigns, Matt Colville (youtube)

The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies, Robert Kirk and Andrew Lang (wiki)

Elves in Discworld, Terry Pratchett (wiki)

Wheel of Time, Robert Jordan

Babel fish, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams (wiki)

The Poetic Edda (wiki)

For Dwarfish names as Old Norse past participles see this post

Game of Thrones (TV, books by George R. R. Martin)

“Then they went back, and found Thorin with his feet on the fender smoking a pipe. He was blowing the most enormous smoke-rings, and wherever he told one to go, it went – up the chimney, or behind the clock on the mantelpiece, or under the table, or round and round the ceiling; but wherever it went it was not quick enough to escape Gandalf. Pop! He sent a smaller smoke-ring from his short clay pipe straight through each one of Thorin’s. Then Gandalf’s smoke-ring would go green and come back to hover over the wizard’s head.” Chapter 1: An Unexpected Party

M, despite literally never throwing anything out on purpose, can’t find the handout for the lecture they mention on classic fantasy as war literature - if that rings any bells for anyone, let us know so we can credit properly!

J. R. R. Tolkien

C. S. Lewis

The Once and Future King, T. H. White

“Even Bilbo was given a seat at the high table, and no explanation of where he came in – no songs had alluded to him even in the obscurest way – was asked for in the general bustle.” Chapter 10: A Warm Welcome

Shakespeare and listening to women (post)

“It was at this point that Bilbo stopped. Going on from there was the bravest thing he ever did. The tremendous things that happened afterwards were as nothing compared to it. He fought the real battle in the tunnel alone, before he ever saw the vast danger that lay in wait.” Chapter 12: Inside Information

Anansi Boys, Neil Gaiman

Smaug is to the dwarves as the Sackville-Bagginses are to Bilbo (post)

Geralt of Rivia, The Witcher (Netflix)

“ “Well, are you alive or are you dead?” asked Bilbo quite crossly. Perhaps he had forgotten that he had had at least one good meal more than the dwarves, and also the use of his arms and legs, not to speak of a greater allowance of air. “Are you still in prison, or are you free? If you want food, and if you want to go on with this silly adventure – it’s yours after all and not mine – you had better slap your arms and rub your legs and try and help me get the others out while there is a chance!”” Chapter 10: A Warm Welcome

“ “Tomorrow begins the last week of autumn,” said Thorin one day.

“And winter comes after autumn,” said Bifur.

“And next year after that,” said Dwalin, “and our beards will grow until they hang down the cliff to the valley before anything happens here.”” Chapter 11: On The Doorstep

Teen Wolf

“braver than any US marine” meme

This meme:

and commentary

What Else Are We Reading?

Check Please, Ngozi Ukazu (comic)

How To Write An Autobiographical Novel, Alexander Chee

Eat Up!, Ruby Tandoh

The Great British Bake-Off

Next Time On Teaching My Cat To Read

Even More Hobbit (This Time With Moving Pictures)

#tmctr #teaching my cat to read

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centuryofdean · 4 years

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Of Food and Comfort - Part 12

Author Note:: You guys, this is the last part! I honestly do not feel 100% great about it, as if I could have ended it better but unsure how. I still hope everyone enjoys it! There is something else in the works now that I am excited to start sharing soon!

Here shortly I am going to take a small hiatus. I need to finish my Hobbit story (it has been neglected too long), and once it is finished I want to get back more into Marvel. I will be working in the background, but not posting until I have gotten everything else squared away. In the meantime, please tag me in Marvel stories you think I would enjoy! I want to read more fanfics and support writers on Tumblr, so I will be sharing more works as well.

Author Disclaimer:: Marvel and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. Instead I claim the maybe not so great plot, writing and characteristics of the reader insert character. I am not a die hard Marvel fan, I haven’t read all the comics, but have watched the movies. I may get some things wrong, so please don’t hate me. I also have been incorporating Old Norse as terms of endearment.

Summary:: You worked for Tony Stark as a…mechanic of sorts. Anything around the Avengers compound that needed a technicians touch, you handled. With working and living there, you had grown to be friendly with the super heroes. Of course you had grown to have feelings for one of them. The muscled Thunder God to be exact.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. Smut. NSFW

Pairing:: Thor x Reader

He looked different. The usually shiny bright warm blonde locks you loved running through your fingers was longer, darker and tangled together in messy strands and braids. It was the longest you had ever seen it, coming down just past his shoulders. Some of it was still bundled in braids behind his head. His beard was completely dark, and also very long. It came down past his neck and onto his chest in more intricate braiding. The new look, although a little ragged and dirty, was something you found you liked.

Everything else about him screamed different. It appeared he was dressed in oddly dirty large Earth clothing.

The only concerning thing you did notice was the once bright mirthful ice blue eyes were now dull dark blue like a stormy sky. One was even noticeably darker than the other, oddly…perfect? Now, these new hopeless eyes were starring right back at you.

Even with noticing all these things, you couldn’t help to feel significantly happier. The past months seemed to slowly fade into a blurry bad dream you had woke from. The ache didn’t matter anymore, what mattered is that he was back—home.

Steve had jumped to action, reaching down to pick up the broken mug at your feet and trying to hush Mjölnir who was still growling from the floor a little ways off.

The tremble started in your jaw before the tears. In one swift movement you were posed on your feet, mouth opening to say anything and everything all at once.

“Thor,” another feminine voice called out from the hallway, “I can’t find the bathroom. You said it was at the end of the hall?”

The happy warmth that had just filled you moments ago disappeared with such quickness you were convinced someone doused you in ice water. Your skin prickled with the change, eyes turning to take in the woman, the same woman you passed in the hallway on your way to the kitchen.

Without conscious thought, or ever seeing her before today—you knew who she was—she looked just as you envisioned. Taller, thinner, big eyes and plush lips with flawless skin and sleek brunette hair.

Jane Foster looked as you imagined. Though standing in your kitchen talking to Thor with ease is not what you visualized.

Your hands were shaking as they grasped the island, holding on for dear life when Steve’s head popped up with his stance.

“Steve Rogers,” he offered quickly, making his way around the island to meet Jane. “Let me show you where the bathroom is ma’am.”

The look of awe covered Jane’s face as she smiled awkwardly. Steve started to lead her from the room, but then popped back in a moment later, “If you need anything sweetheart, I’ll be in the living room.”

Just like that you were alone with this new Thor, just a handful of feet away from each other and awkwardly starring at one another.

He didn’t look excited to see you; he didn’t look even remotely happy. Instead he looked upset and forlorn. Why would he be happy to see you, not when he had Jane back? Why else would she be here, with him?

For five months you sat on this base, mourning him every single day—trying to remember the love you shared so that it would get you by until he returned. He finally returned and now you are trying to remember if the love was ever real.

Unconsciously you grasped at the collar of your shirt, checking to make sure the necklace he had given you was hidden underneath the fabric. You had worn the keepsake every day, wearing it even when you showered. It wasn’t uncommon for you to play with it throughout the day either. At this moment you didn’t want him to see it. For some reason it felt as if it were a weakness for him to see you cling to it so tightly.

The only conclusion you could reach was that you were a stand in for Jane. Everything had been a lie, especially when Thor had told you that he no longer cared for Jane in that way, he only cared for you, only loved you. It was confusing, because Thor never lied, but how could you believe it when it looked like he had been back on Earth for more than a few days and came back with Jane in tow?

You tried to picture how your reunion with Thor would be when he returned. You would throw yourself into his arms and tell him you missed and loved him very much. You would tell him that you didn’t care about how upset you would be separated from your friends and family—you would gladly move to Asgard because you couldn’t go without him like that again.

This isn’t what you pictured; heartbroken sitting across from him and rethinking everything that had happened within the past year.

“What happened?” The words came so softly from your lips, you coughed to clear your throat and croaked them louder when he didn’t reply.

Thor’s eyes fluttered close, hands coming up to cover his face while he took a deep breath.

As he spoke, more tears fell from your cheeks. The deep timber that you thought you forgotten brought back a rush of emotions, goosebumps crashing to the surface of your skin. His voice was just as deep as before, but full of defeat. It was like listening to an old sad country song you hadn’t heard since you were younger.

Once he returned to Asgard, he was immediately needed across the realms to fight another battle. Once one battle was over, he needed to go to another. It was as if wars were breaking out all around him. He was trying to prevent the downfall of the realms and Ragnarök.

Eventually he found himself imprisoned by a fire demon. He defeated the demon and returned to Asgard to find Heimdall missing and Loki posing as their father and leading the kingdom.

Forcing Loki to help, they left Asgard and found their father in Norway. Odin revealed that the brothers actually had a sister; one Odin locked away for becoming too powerful and using her powers wrongly. He was dying, and once he passed their sister Hela would be released from her prisons. Even though Thor fought hard to prevent Ragnarök, it was going to happen, and Odin wanted New Asgard to be in Norway on Earth because he thought it was beautiful.

It happened so fast. Odin passed on, and Hela appearing in his place almost. The Bifrost opened, leading Thor and Loki back to Asgard—but Hela followed.

The story began to become garbled as he spoke, almost as if he were grasping to remember the finer details himself in his grief and the order that they happened.

Hela destroyed Asgard’s armies. Thor’s friends were killed at her hand—and she had plans to destroy and conquer the rest of the realms.

Somehow in all this Thor and Loki found themselves separated, Thor on a ship and crashing on another planet. After emerging from his ship, he was captured and taken to the leader to be used as fighting entertainment. Not surprisingly Loki was there becoming good friends with the leader while pretending not to know Thor.

“Mjölnir was left behind on the ship,” he sighed. At his words, the dog perked up a bit, tilting his head in confusion on why a stranger was saying its name. “After I had freed myself and a few others from the fighting games, I was unable to get back to the ship I arrived on and retrieve it. I had tried summoning it, but it never returned.”

Since you needed to know the rest of the story, you kept silent. After he finished telling you what happened, then you would tell him you had the hammer.

The ship Thor found himself on with the other imprisoned fighters was intercepted by another ship. One that housed a talking furry animal named Rocket and a talking tree named Groot?

Thor admitted early on in his retelling of the past five months, that he lost track of days after his father passed away. So, when he and his other escaped friends were taken in by Rocket and Groot, he said he wasn’t sure if it had been months or years when that he had been gone. Time always traveled differently in space. If you didn’t pay attention to how many times you fell asleep and woke up, it was hard to keep track. The time with their new friends blended together so much and went on so long he had felt as if he would never return to Earth.

Thor described his time on Rocket’s ship as endless. They hardly ever stopped anywhere because their food supplies never seemed to deplete. He had vocalized that he was needed back to Asgard to defend it from Hela, even though it was so long ago. Before he could go back, he had needed a weapon since Mjölnir had been left behind.

The new group found themselves at a forge in space, getting assistance from a welding dwarf to create Thor a new weapon, one strong enough to defeat his sister since he sensed she was stronger than even him.

As he was talking about it, he lifted the large axe from the floor for you to see. It reminded you a lot of the hammer but had a wooden handle instead of a metal one. The handle looked like it was just chopped from a tree and slapped together. The carvings etched in it screamed familiarity, though were completely different than the ones on Mjölnir.

It was named Stormbreaker.

Your fingers traced the sleek metal of the weapon, eyes drinking in everything about it while Thor continued to speak.

He explained that their travels back to Asgard were just if the travels to the forge seemed. He still was unsure of how much time had passed.

After they arrived on Asgard, everything happened quickly. They found that Heimdall was trying to help the rest of the Asgardians escape to Norway with the Bifrost. Hela was fighting back, wanting the sword that controlled the Bifrost so she could start her plans to rage war against the rest of the realms.

Thor jumped in the thick of it, battling his sister while his friends and Loki were fighting her army of undead. In one particular moment, Hela stabbed Thor in the eye. This action led him to a vision of how to defeat her. Even with Stormbreaker, he was unable to wield the new weapon efficiently to land a deadly blow on her.

Thor told Loki to put a crown on a flame, knowing that this action was going to rebirth the fire demon who imprisoned him and bring on Ragnarök—bringing the downfall of Asgard.

As the demon and Hela battled, Thor helped Heimdall usher the surviving Asgardians through the Bifrost and to Norway, where Odin said New Asgard should be.

At those last words Thor said, you sat starring at the countertop, trying to take it all in. It sounded like a lot. He must be heartbroken over losing his father and his home. You found it unsurprising he was gone for five months and unable to get back—but was he gone for five months? He probably has been on Earth longer than a few days, especially if Jane Foster was with him.

“When did you get back to Earth,” your voice tried to break as you asked.

Thor coughed to clear his own throat, eyes latching onto Mjölnir the dog at your feet. You looked as well, to try and see what he was seeing. One very large black dog with thick fur, barring his teeth slightly towards Thor and a soft rumble.

That a boy, you thought, smiling softly. Protect your Momma.

“Ten days ago,” Thor said softly. “We arrived to Norway ten days ago.”

Thor had been on Earth for ten days. Clearly, he sought out Jane, why else would she be with him? The realization ate away at your chest, leaving you in pain and short of breath. So why were they here? All he really had here were clothes, clothes he could easily get anywhere else. He did have some belongings, but they were things you had given him.

A pair of sunglasses that were big enough to fit his head and cover half of his face for example. He found them amusing. You had bought him a handful of books about Asgard, and together you both read them (even the children’s books) and discussed what was fact and what was fiction. There were a few Nordic bracelets and clothing, maybe even some beads and hair ties you had gotten for his hair when he braided it.

Everything he had that wasn’t clothing, you had given to him. Thor didn’t keep materialistic things on Earth, because Earth was never really his home. All the thoughtful and meaningful items were in his room in Asgard. He had shown you’re his room once when you were there. It was decorated and personalized. Paintings of his family hung on the walls, old weapons or toys from his childhood. He even had a few Poptart wrappers hidden under his bed.

All of that was gone now. It burned with the rest of Asgard when the fire demon destroyed itself and Hela.

“I have something of yours,” you whispered, finally rising from the stool you sat on. You could give him one last thing that he hadn’t completely lost at least. Without having to ask, Thor trailed behind you as you lead the way back through the hallways towards his room. When you both passed the door to your old room, you took made a mental note to start moving your things back in there as soon as he and Jane left.

Thor made a weird grunting noise but didn’t say anything as he followed. Mjölnir put much needed space between Thor and you. As you both reached his room, you took one more deep breath before pushing forward.

Ever since you moved into it, it had been a state of mess. Dirty clothes littered the floor—well the clean ones did too. You were only able to tell what was clean by sniffing them. Mjölnir’s dog bed sat on the farthest edge of the room, covered in dog hair. Again, everything was covered in dog hair from the clothes on the floor to the sheets and blanket on the bed. Hell, even some dog hair was on the clothes you were wearing and surely in your hair.

You couldn’t help but think that this is what depression looks like.

The hammer was leaning against the vanity dresser you had brought into the room the first week you moved in. It hurt to look at all the photos of you and Thor when you walked towards it.

As your fingers touched the leather on the handle, goosebumps trickled across your arms and chest. This was the first time you touched it since bringing it home. Although you never said anything to the others, it scared you slightly with how you called the power of electricity and thunder like Thor would have. You weren’t Asgardian, you weren’t a God—you were lucky it didn’t kill you.

The hammer swung up with your arm as you presented it to him.

His eyes grew wide, a soft smile hinting at the corners of his mouth.

“Mjölnir,” he exclaimed excitedly.

The sight caused your heart to snag and pull. The last time you had seen that beautiful smile was just before he left. Just before the both of you had gone to bed that night, you found yourself settled on his chest, starring down at him while you both talked about anything and everything. You told him you loved him—and that’s when his face lit up brightly with excitement and joy.

At that moment the dog was on the bed, watching quietly until he heard his name. A sharp bark met the air, causing you to snap out of the trance you slipped into watching Thor smile.

Once he took the hammer off your hands, you stepped over to the bed and sat next to your dog, hugging him tight.

“How,” Thor asked confused.

“A month after you left Tony let me get a dog,” you started, taking a deep breath. You didn’t want to talk forever, you wanted to say as little as possible and leave. Running your fingers through Mjölnir’s thick fur helped you stay grounded. “I went to the park with him one day and he got loose. I called for him over and over again. The hammer showed up just before he did.”

Thor closed his eyes and gripped the handle on the hammer tightly. Then, he quickly turned and started to take in the room. Before he arrived, this room became part of your comfort. Now you were embarrassed that he was here witnessing your distress over him, especially since he moved on.

“You named the dog after the hammer,” he said quietly. “You moved into my room. You wear my clothes… You did not—you did not move on with Steve?”

“What,” you asked sharply, a little confused. “Move on with Steve?”

Thor sat the hammer on the floor, soon settling onto the ground with it. Now that he was in front of you without an island separating you, you could see he had gotten bigger—he wasn’t just wearing baggy clothes.

“When I arrived,” he said. “the Captain was not happy to see me. Your room was empty. He had your tea prepared for you and—and he called you—”

Thor stopped talking suddenly, hands clenching into fists on the tops of his knees. At a loss, you starred back at him. Was he getting jealous that Steve called you sweetheart?

Finally a little fed up with it all, you wanted to explode. You wanted to yell and scream and tell him to take his girlfriend and get the Hell out—but it was Thor. Even if you were heartbroken, you couldn’t ever treat Thor like that; you still loved him.

“I cried—I cried every damn day since you left,” you started off softly. With each of your words, your voice and anger showed itself. “Every. Single. Day. When that fucking hammer came back and you didn’t follow; I thought you were dead. I mourned you Thor! I still tried to hold out hope you were alive and would return. For five months, I never stopped missing you. Steve has been a great friend to me, keeping me company and making sure I’m okay—but only as a friend.”

The waterworks started when you told him you thought he was dead, and they didn’t stop. The dog had gotten up and off the bed when you started yelling about mourning Thor. Mjölnir hid in the closet and whined softly.

“Here I was, for five months, waiting for you to come back! And when you got back, you came back with Jane Foster,” you bit out scathingly.

Those are the words that broke Thor from his silence. He jumped up off the floor and stood before you with heat in his eyes.

“Jane brought me here because I asked her to, I didn’t know how to come back to you,” he hurried out. “I would have returned the moment I came back to Earth, but my people needed me. They needed a leader to talk to the Midgardians in Norway to gain assistance to build and regrow. Jane showed up four days ago. She sought me out when her science things told her the Bifrost opened for a long period of time. I did not seek her out schat.”

Even as the said the word, a broken sob left you. It had been so long since you heard it, you never realized you craved to hear him say it again. He had once told you it meant you were a very rare and good person. Even if it was a compliment that could be given to just anyone, he never used the word for anyone else but you.

He stood. You sat. Both still starring, both with tears in each other’s eyes.

“You weren’t happy to see me,” you cried out, hugging yourself from the bed while you tried to wrap your head around it all. Was it true? Thor had never been one to lie, but you couldn’t help but hesitate to believe him.

Suddenly Thor’s shoulders hunched in on themselves while he ducked his head.

“When I first arrived, I went straight to your rooms to find them empty. Then when you woke and came to the kitchens…I assumed you moved on with Captain Rogers. Seeing your beauty again reminded me that I am unworthy of your affection even if you had not moved on—even after I was gone for so long,” he said quietly.

It was like everything he said was confusing you. Thor sensed your confusion and looked away while gesturing to his middle and grabbing at his hair. “I have grown lethargic and heavy in my time on ships,” he muttered.

A sudden laugh ripped from your chest, a little hysterical in the mist of it all. Thor was implying that he had gotten fat and unappealing? You gestured to everything in the room and then enthusiastically to yourself. The last time you got on the scale a few months ago, you discovered that all the depressed eating had caused you to gain twenty-five pounds. You could notice it when you looked in the mirror. Your clothes were a little tight, so you wore Thor’s clothes more than your own. Self consciously it bothered you some, but not enough to actually care. The only thing you truly cared about was his absence.

Finally, you grasped at your hair that hadn’t been brushed in days. “I’m a mess Thor,” you cried softly. “I have been since you left! Do you see the room? It’s a pig sty. I can’t remember the last time I put on real clothes, I have left the base six times! Not to mention I haven’t stopped eating to fill the void, and I got fat—”

“You are a Goddess,” Thor’s deep voice commanded through the room loudly cutting you off. “You look more radiant now than the last time I saw you.”

The tears that had started to slowly wane suddenly burst forth again, eyes and face hurting from all the energy that went into crying. Being overwhelmed by everything wasn’t helping, by the fact that Thor was here, and he didn’t love Jane. He still loved you then?

He at last approached you, touching your shoulder softly and hushing you. “Please do not cry drottning,” he murmured. “We are together again. I have missed you.”

Without hesitation you crushed yourself into his front, hugging yourself to him as tightly as you could. This only caused you to cry harder. Getting tears and eventually mucus all over his already dirty sweater. It was worth it when his arms came around your shoulders to hold you closer to him.

It was odd, being pressed up against soft giving flesh instead of hard muscles you were used to as you leaned into his hug more. Other than the first note of the difference since the last time he hugged you, you felt completely at ease. This is where you were meant to be, where you craved to be for months. The warmth from him seeping into you. Soon your tears stopped to small hiccups, and you held him closely as you breathed slowly.

“You probably want to shower,” you said pulling away, fingers playing with the ends of his tangled hair, taking in the state of his clothes and feeling the grime in his hair.

“Will you be alright,” he asked, fingers coming up to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. The first blush you felt in a long time dusted your cheeks at the action.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “I’ll be fine. We can talk more later. I really need for us to talk more later actually.”

He looked a little uneasy as you said this, arm wrapping around your middle again to urge you closer to him.

“Don’t worry,” you smiled softly. “I just what to know more about what happened…and more about Jane showing up. Trust me, I believe what you’re saying but I just feel like we should visit that conversation again. Is that okay?”

“Anything you want to ease your troubles,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead quickly.

After you pulled away, you didn’t attempt to kiss him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but that you felt that there was too much going on in your head to try and deal with the next emotional hurdle. Thor didn’t attempt to kiss you either, which you were thankful for.

“I’ll bring you some clean clothes in a second and set them by bathroom door,” you told him. “Are you hungry?”

Thor paused by the door to the bathroom, looking at his hands on the knob before answering, “That would be nice, I have not eaten today yet.”

You left to go look for clothes for Thor. Thankfully Tony Stark thinks of everything. In the training rooms on the ground floor you found all sorts of workout clothing from shorts, sweats, shirts and sweaters in various sizes. Tony usually kept it stocked in case new recruits were coming into train or simply if someone needed something to change into real quick and didn’t bring anything.

Not sure what size to grab, you selected a couple of different sizes in different styles for Thor to choose from before trekking back upstairs to drop them off to him.

Mjölnir was jumping excitedly and whining the whole trip. The poor dog probably really needed to relieve his bladder and you had stopped his whole morning routine when Thor appeared in front of you.

When you finally made it to the living room, you found Steve sitting across from Jane on separate couches and talking softly. “I’m going to make some breakfast,” you said after making an entrance. “Are either of you hungry?”

Steve smiled up at you and then glanced at Mjölnir, who was almost whimpering. “That would be great Y/N, thank you. Do you want me to take Mew-Mew out,” he asked.

At the word out Mjölnir completely flipped sideways in excitement.

“Please,” you replied in gratitude. “I would appreciate that.”

“Come on boy,” Steve clapped, “let’s go water the flowers.”

Just before you left for the kitchen, you turned to Jane. “You can come with to the kitchen if you want,” you offered, “or you could watch some TV. Not sure where the remote is.”

You were surprised when she smiled and got up to follow you.

It was a little awkward at first. You went about grabbing all the dishes and ingredients you would need to make breakfast while Jane sat silently at the island. Every once in a while, you would get and eyeful of her. She was dressed in jeans and a soft looking knit sweater, her hair clean and brushed with minimal makeup. All the while you were barefoot, in just an oversized Thor shirt and underwear. Messy hair and lack of shower aside, you felt a little gross in comparison to her.

“Sorry that I’m still in my jim-jams. We don’t get a lot of company in the living quarters,” you called out over your shoulder.

Jane laughed lightly, “You’re fine. This is your house, I’m sorry for showing up unannounced.”

A soft smile quirked your lips at her words, at least she was polite.

“Do you have a preference for breakfast? I was planning on making waffles with fruit, sausages and biscuits and gravy—but if you want something else, I can see what we have,” you asked her after putting some more mixing bowls on the counter-top.

“Oh! Thank you,” she said surprised. “I could go for waffles and fruit, that sounds wonderful.”

The conversation died out a little after that, which wasn’t the worst thing. Even if you held no ill feelings for Jane—because why on Earth would you—she still made you feel a little uncomfortable. Did Thor tell her about you, or did Steve?

Soon Steve let Mjölnir into the kitchen before disappearing. The dog was—as always—excited to see you. While he danced around you and tried to get pets, you would nudge him away with your hips because your hands were full of food or ingredients. “Go lay down,” you said with a laugh, “you will get your breakfast after we eat.”

Dejectedly, he walked off to the corner of the kitchen where he slid to the floor and rested his head on his paws.

“It’s really hard to hate you,” Jane said suddenly.

After throwing the biscuits in the oven, you turned to her somewhat shocked. You liked to think of yourself as a blunt person, but Jane seemed to take the cake and then some on the subject.

“Erm, I’ll take it as a compliment,” you asked confused.

“I just mean,” she sighed, playing with her cuticles on her fingers. “That—I—I ended things with Thor a while ago, because I couldn’t handle him being gone all the time. I knew eventually he would want me to move to Asgard with him, and my life was here on Earth. When I noticed the Bifrost open for more than a few minutes I knew something was wrong and flew to Norway without thinking about it.”

Trying not to be rude, you continued to prepare breakfast, but showed her you were listening to what she was saying but nodding and saying ‘okay’ softly.

“That told me I wasn’t over him,” Jane said with a broken laugh. “Who drops what they’re doing and flies across the world for their ex-boyfriend? He was really surprised to see me, and I tried to tell him I missed him—and all he said was that he needed to get back to you.

“I wanted to be jealous, to dislike you just for the fact that he was coming home to you. I was sure that the moment I walked in with him you were going to dislike me too—but, here you are, cooking me breakfast without a care in the world and being a genuinely nice person.”

Knowing that Thor just wanted to get back to you made you feel a little at ease again. The words tried to mold in your mouth before you said them. “Thor told me why you broke up with him,” you said. “I don’t dislike you Jane; you did nothing wrong to Thor. You were honest with him about your feelings and ended things, a very hard but mature decision. Unless you do something to hurt him or hurt our relationship, I have no problem with you at all. You seem like a good person, so I don’t see you doing either of those things.”

Soon she changed the subject and was telling you about some of the research she did. A lot of it was a little lost on you with her technical terms and some of the Astrology. You were more in tune with mechanics so some of what she was saying was familiar, at least with the machinery she uses. In turn you told her of some of the work that you did for Tony. It wasn’t as prestigious as the kind of science she was doing, but you enjoyed doing it.

Most of the food was done when Thor and Steve returned.

Thor looked much better than before. His hair was clean and brushed smooth, pulled into a bun at the base of his skull like normal. The beard that adorned his face was completely different than what you were used to. Simple braids pulled the beard together and down his neck.

Without thinking, you started to put a few waffles on a plate and placed it in front of where he sat at the island and then slid the bowl of mixed fruit to him. In return you received a small smile and nod of thanks from him. Soon he started to repeat his story about Asgard and traveling with his new companions to Steve and Jane.

Eventually his story melted into the here and now, discussing what they had accomplished so far in New Asgard and what, yet they still needed to do. Thor then started to lose enthusiasm for what he was saying, his words getting quieter and forlorn.

“When I return,” he sighed, “I must go trade with the people of Norway to acquire more food and supplies for Asgard. I only was able to break away after there was enough for a few days.”

That means he needs to go back soon. Maybe in a day or so it seemed. Dread started to fill you again at the thought, he only just came back to you—

“When do we need to leave,” you asked, pushing your half-eaten plate away.

“You will come with me,” he asked quietly. Thor’s hands had risen to rest on top of one another on the counter, fingers clenched together tightly.

“Of course,” you said easily, anxiety rushing through your veins at the thought of being without him again. “I’m sure if we ask Tony, we could borrow a quin-jet to get there faster. I don’t own a lot of stuff to pack so if I start now, I could get everything together by the end of the day. Just my clothes and some odds and ends, the furniture is Tony’s anyway. Whatever I can’t take right away I can come back for in a few weeks. We could leave tomorrow morning—”

“You want to move your things there,” Thor asked with surprise lacing his tone.

You had already gotten up and was bending over to lay a plate of food on the floor for the dog. Mjölnir bound over happily to start licking at the sausage gravy.

“Yeah,” you sighed standing back up. You had already committed yourself to moving to Asgard with him, what was the difference to moving to Norway to be with him. At least you would be on the same planet and could still call your parents. “I’ll need to notify Tony that I’m going to have to stop working for him, but I think—”

“You will leave here and come live with me in New Asgard,” Thor interrupted you again.

A little laugh escaped you at his antics. Although you were still an emotional wreck, you wanted to do everything you could to give your relationship with him a fighting chance. “Yes Thor,” you said. “If that is where you need to be, then I’m going to be there too.”

Thor’s arm slipped behind your back and pulled you down to settle across his lap. Warmth seeped into you from all around, his arms coming to squeeze you tightly to him. “You do not realize how happy this makes me schat,” he murmured. “I did not want to leave you again.”

It happened pretty fast after that. Tony and you had a long conversation about your work. When Thor had disappeared your work around the base decreased by half, so you felt bad when Tony was trying to offer you a severance pay for leaving. That is what took up most of the conversation at least—you fighting on taking the money. Other than that, you packed up all of your clothes and the little odds and ends you had collected over the years.

Even though you had said that you and Thor could leave that next morning, Thor insisted that you have another day to see the rest of your friends and bid them goodbyes. Not all of them were around much anymore, having moved out or going on more and more missions. With every teary hug and promises to call often, you reminded yourself that you would come visit and they could come visit you.

It wasn’t out in space, just over the ocean in Norway.

Tony graciously gave you a quin-jet and spent a handful of hours going over the controls and logistics of flying it. Since you refused to take a severance pay, he strong armed you into accepting the ship instead. All he had to do was tell you that it could be used to fly back over to New York in just a handful of hours; and you caved.

It took a little enticing with lunch meat to get Mjölnir to get on the jet. Once on it and you started up the engines, the dog howled in fear and cowered on the floor shaking. Thor held the dog close for the long four-hour flight it took to get to Norway.

He guided you from the co-pilot chair the entire trip, murmuring suggestions on how to handle the ship and directions. After landing, he slowly stood with the large dog in his arms as if Mjölnir weighed nothing and helping the dog to the floor gently.

The cool air touched your skin as soon as he opened the doors and lowered the ramp. It wasn’t as hot as it was in New York, but a nice spring-like warmth. The view took your breath away.

Bright green hills and cliffs lined the shoreline, making the ideal image of a small quaint fishing town. There were a handful of houses that had been built while some were still half built. Some older buildings were already established, but people were milling in and out of them with tools and cleaning supplies. Down the shoreline you found a handful of men and women tossing nets into the water and pulling them back in rhythmically.

Thor walked to the end of the ramp, looking back at you and offering his hand. “Come schat, let me show you our new home,” he said smiling.

Mjölnir barked, taking off down the ramp in excitement to get off the ship.

Suddenly you felt a little weightless. Maybe it was a giant combination of the weight of everything falling off your shoulders at once, the beauty of New Asgard, Thor finally here with you—offering you a new life with him.

The previous night you both stayed cuddling in bed whispering back and forth—the talk you wanted to have about what happened when he was gone. There were some more tears as you explained how heartbroken you were to see Jane there, that he was gone and how you were extremely happy to be home and so overwhelmed. Thor answered all your questions about his time gone and his thoughts on Jane. After the talk you felt more assured in his feelings for you, and lack of romantic feelings for Jane.

You were still a little overwhelmed, but as you slid your hand into his and took the first few steps off the jet—every breath you took was fresh and exhilarating. All while leading you, he pointed to some buildings and explained what he had planned for them. Numerous Asgardians waved in hello when you both passed.

After a time of walking he stopped in front of a white house with a lot of windows. It rose up slightly higher than the rest of the houses on a smaller hill, one large window facing the water. It looked partially finished. There was no roof, but different patched colored tarps covering the top.

“Some of the people of Norway offered to help build with us. The wood and materials that they gave us—we were unaware how to construct with it,” he said. “This…this in our home. It is not finished, but—”

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted him, smiling brightly. “It’s so beautiful here.”

“No drottning, it is perfect now that you and Mjölnir are here with me,” he murmured pulling you close. The words caused you to smile and run your fingers through Mjölnir‘s fur. Thor had grown to care for the dog as much as you had, it warmed you to know he was accepting of your fur baby.

“You never told me what drottning means,” you said teasingly he gazed down at you.

Thor laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It is a term of endearment; it translates roughly to ‘my queen’.”

“And schat,” you asked more breathless than anything.

“My treasure,” he murmured before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Come, I want to show you the view of the water from our home. We can make it our bedroom if you want.”

Previous Chapter << Part 11: French Toast

Next Chapter >> Epilogue: Peanut Butter

Taglist:

@thorfanficwriter @lancsnerd @jennie22feona @captainamericasbeard @ruthoakenshield @jumpingmanatee @alyssatjuhhh @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @wonderlandfandomkingdom

#Thor Odinson #thor x reader #thor fanfiction #thor fanfic #thor #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #of food and comfort #thor x y/n

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inkinghubris · 3 years

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Hemingway and Other Things You Shouldn't Talk About

Hemingway Said, You Do Not Talk About Writing

Rule number one: You do not talk about writing. Rule number two: You do NOT talk about writing! I always picture Brad Pitt walking around telling a group of authors all the rules before a furious word slinging writers event, in some dark, seedy basement covered in sweat and coffee stains.

Hemingway and Fight Club have things in common, such as rules about not talking. Obviously this is not the case. However, as writers we have a series of unwritten laws that we tend to either abide or pretend to be oblivious too. I am Jack's complete lack of interest. Writers Have Heroes, Too As writers, we have authors as heroes just as those school kids look up to athletes. Stephen King, Ernest Hemingway, Henry Miller and Stu Stein, to name a few. These authors broke the first rule of Writing Club: they all have a publication called On Writing. "Throughout Ernest Hemingway's career as a writer," says Larry W. Phillips in his introduction to Ernest Hemingway on Writing, "he maintained that it was bad luck to talk about writing." So what else are we mortal writer's, superstitious or otherwise, not supposed to do or say? There is quite a list, actually. I am Jack's bleeding heart. Rule #1 As we have established, it is bad luck to talk about writing. Thanks, Ernest. Why, though? Basically, as Hemingway explains further, it is better to just write and not speak of it. In his method of removing all the bullshit and leaving behind only the greatness. I disagree with this almost completely. Almost. I feel that we are just glorified campfire story-tellers. It is our duty to tell stories. Written down for others to enjoy at their leisure, obviously, that's why we are "writers". At the core of it all, however, we tell stories. Talking about our stories is just in our nature. I am Jack's gaping mouth. I do agree with the concept that we shouldn't brag, and we also shouldn't try to school or teach every passer-by with our knowledge of the process. Just tell the story, mate. Rule #2 Another no-no myth is that we should write perfect. I am Jack's decaying ego. As the saying goes: practice makes perfect. I disagree. I used to tell my football teams that practice does NOT make perfect, only perfect practice makes perfect. They just looked at me and nodded "yes coach".

Don't practice writing, practice perfect writing. In writing, this same method applies to an extent. If you practice writing you will get better, but only so far as you write perfect. The problem is that no one just writes perfectly out of the box. If we did, there would be no need for drafts and we would just pump out perfect final drafts day in and day out. James Patterson was said to have written over a million words before he wrote his first novel. Writing makes you write better, but to write better you don't just write words, you write better words. The one issue I have with this is that trying to write every word perfectly distracts from the art. Instead, I suggest that you just write. Worry only about perfection while editing and focus on writing perfectly whilst writing the final draft. Otherwise, just write. Rule #3 Don't write like your idols. Sigh. I have heard this over and over and over and every time it upsets me to no end. Believe it or not, there is a finite number of writing genres. We are drawn towards certain ones and turned off by others. I, for example, love thriller and horror and dislike romance and most young adult. Having authors as idols is not a bad thing and if we aspire to be an author then who should we emulate? Our idols. Exactly. So why are we told not to? The reasons vary from one mouth to another, but the main theme seems to be that we should write our own style in our own voice. I tend to believe, though, that our own style and voice will come out, anyway. We should write like our idols. I don't write romance, and would never try to emulate Nicholas Sparks. However, writing horror I see nothing wrong trying to write in similar styles of King, Koontz or Barker. Will I ever write a book and have a publisher read it and say... "Hey! did Clive Barker write this?" No. That will never happen. However, if I am trying to sell a horror book and someone compares it to Clive Barker, then I should feel overwhelmingly excited about that. Writing like your idols is never a bad thing. Rule #4 You should never ask your mom for feedback. Again, heavy sigh. Friends and family are essential for writers' feedback, especially if you are just starting out. While it is true that mom and dad will have a harder time giving you negative feedback (generally) this is not a bad thing. As a writer, you will experience enough setbacks and hardships and negativity to last five lifetimes. Eventually it will harden you, make you better, make you more fierce. In the beginning though, it's detrimental to your writing career. If you start out with negative feedback, you will eventually believe it. Having mom coo and gush over your first few works will help boost your ego and keep you going. From there, you will begin perfect practice and have thousands more words under your belt. You must seek out your mom and close friends for feedback in the beginning (and again any time you need to return to your happy place of believing you can accomplish this task). It is essential, and helpful. I am Jack's boastful pride. Rule #5

If you don't know, believe you know. Base it on natural physics or biology and readers will believe it as real, too. Write what you know. This is tricky and I agree with it to a very limited extent. Readers (and publishers alike) know when you are bullshitting them. If you are writing about car mechanics and you know nothing of repairing an engine, you will turn your readers off. Once you lose a reader because you don't know what you are talking about, they will never believe another word you write, if they even finish the book. However, just writing what you know will severely limit what you write about. And what about things that no one knows about? Aliens, vampires, deep space... if we only ever wrote what we knew, then books like Lewis' Narnia or Tolkien's ring quests and hobbits, would never exist. I take the phrase "write what you know" and change it slightly to "write what you believe." A simple change that allows the author to have a slight edge in the truthfulness in the story. I am Jack's cancer-ridden mind. We Don't Know Everything Certainly no one knows about hobbits, but Tolkien believed in them so much that what he said about them was a gospel of truth. No one doubts hobbits because Tolkien didn't doubt them. However, we can't always write absolute fantasy. So you should know your material. You need to know how wounds heal, how radios operate, or how television signals work. Otherwise, if you bull shit these small details, You won't have much success. Roald Dahl wouldn't have such success with Willy Wonka. Sure there is a great deal of fantasy in that chocolate factory, but imagine if Dahl had simply made up how television signals work? We would never believe that it was possible to travel through those television waves and might have put the book down. Believe what you write and learn what you do not know. Don't be afraid of research and get the small details right. Rule #6 Don't write cliche. The main problem I have with this "advice" is that we then have to define what is cliche. Then, further, if we don't write cliche, there wouldn't be cliche to write. The issue there is that cliche works. That is why it is cliche. Now you are asking yourself how many more times can I possibly say that word in one paragraph. The answer is 97. However, I will refrain. Yes, the works can be overworked or even trite. They are important. This is never more obvious than when you get ideas for stories. Just like Hollywood, the literary world goes around in a circle. For example, right now we have an influx of super hero movies that followed a slew of Romance and Romantic comedies. True, too, will be that the literary world will follow suit. Wizards and broom stick games followed by vampires and werewolves. It's all a Cycle Horror is popular when Young Adult is on the decline and Romance blooms when Fantasy fades. Just because you write cliche projects (96) don't worry about it. You may have to put it in a drawer and forget it for a few years, but soon and once again, the time will be right and people will be clamoring for that long-forgotten cliche (95) to be unleashed. Don't be afraid to complete a project, just because the market is currently flooded with a similar style of work doesn't mean it won't get noticed. "It's only after we've lost everything that we are free to do anything." Rule #7 You must find your unique voice. Umm. This is such a convoluted piece of advice. Yes, you do, but no, you do not. Confused? You should be. I spent too many wasted hours trying to follow this seemingly simple "fact". Hours I will never get back. Quickly (as I have other posts and pages about voice here that go into deeper detail), voice is not how you talk or the sounds that come from your characters mouths. Voice is, in essence, a style. The catch, however, is that your book's voice is unique to that book. Your voice will change from project to project. Do you need to find it? The real answer is that you will notice the voice emerging as you work. From draft to draft your project's voice will emerge and you can then focus more on it. For now, in the beginning, it isn't such a big worry. It will come and if it doesn't, then that is one tale-tell sign that perhaps that particular project isn't making the finish line. Rule #8 Finally, the old tale to ensure you write every single day. You must write X amount of words, or for X amount of hours every single day if you are going to be successful. There are so many "facts" to support this: King writes 2000 words every day and won't stop until he's done it. Or, Koontz ensures, he writes for a minimum of 2 hours each day. Yes, that method works for some, even a lot of, people. However, these famous authors are paid to write. Are you yet paid to write every day? I know that I am not. I have work, and children and family and friends and shopping to do and places to go. Let's be frank. You need to make the time to write. It does need to be a habit that you can do and get into. If it's ever a chore, then perhaps it isn't for you. It is nice to have goals. However, I will fight to the death against anyone that says I must write a certain amount or for a certain time every single day. We Have Lives I have a life. You do too. While you, like me, want to make a career from writing, you also have other obligations and other spontaneous things that appear that take our time, focus and attention away. Go with it. Get a break. Take a day or even two off. Go outside. Research. Read. Watch a movie. Get some sun on your skin. Go shopping. You do not have to write every single day. Just as long as you don't fall in the hole and make not-writing the habit. I am Jack's exhausted colon. Write. Write often. Get lost in it. Talk about it. Get positive feedback. Enjoy what you do and do it with a fervor and a vigor that rivals pure passion. Read the full article

#Novels #Writing #writingrules

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hypermanga · 4 years

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May I please have a ship for the hobbit, X-Men, and Marvel? I'm 5'8 with blue eyes, freckles, and bright red hair. I'm a bi female.I love all sorts art and music. I do art, sing, dance, and study history. I'm know as being playful and loving but also very protective and caring. I can be stubborn and headstrong and I'm very passionate about my views. I also love learning to do new things and such. Very open minded as well. I've been told I'm also a momma figure and a quick learner. Thank you!!

Xmen

I ship you with...

Pietro Maximoff/ Quicksilver!

Being a mutant meant being in constant danger and a large part of humanity called you a freak. Thank goodness, two things made this bearable: music and you.

You were brought to the X-Mansion after a particularly rough mission for the Xmen, all battered and bruised with needle marks all around your body. It seemed your mutation had woken up in the middle of one of your daily history lectures, and instead of helping you, your teacher had decided to call the army and leave you to be.

When you had recovered from everything, you tried to find some kind of emotional support, hence why you started to play the guitar. One day, a young boy with grey hair was beside you guitar, eyeing curiously.

After finding out his passion for music and having fun, you two clicked like puzzle pieces, spending the days together as the best of friends.

When you started to go to missions with the other Xmen, he became afraid that you would never come back, as sometimes you went to the most dangerous places -in the middle of the Amazon forest, for example, from where you brought back a parrot-, but he knew he wasn't match to your views: all your life you hadn't taken part in the mutant vs humanity showdown, but now it was time to act to defend the others like you from people like William Stryker.

Because of this, it became a tradition to create a playlist with a song that reminded you of the mission you had just returned from, and he would create one of his own, a secret one he said; One day, when he was off to class, you busied yourself by listening to his playlist, gasping in surprise when the first song that came out was "I can't help falling in love with you" by Elvis Presley.

He didn't have time to exit the classroom as you bumped into him, crashing your lips against his.

The Hobbit

I ship you with...

Bard!

After Bard's wife passed away, you helped the Bowman raise his kids, taking care of them whenever he had to go to Mirkwood to retrieve barrels that the elves threw away after emptying their contents.

Tilda, Sigrid and Bain soon warmed up to you, after all you were one of his father's closest friends and allies in the poor excuse for a city. And after some time, he started to feel something else than gratefulness for you and your work.

As Smaug attacked the city after the Company of Thorin Oakenshield woke him up, you couldn't leave alone Bard, not when you knew of his plan of taking the dragon down. So instead of Bain you offered yourself to bring the last black arrow to Bard, knowing that if anything happened to the young boy, he would never forgive himself.

To say that adrenaline pumped into your veins throughout the time you two faced off the fire-breathing creature was an understanding. Even after you two fell down the tower when the dragon's body reduced the city to pieces from the impact, your heartbeat never slowed down.

When you were able to reunite with Bard's children, you engulfed them in a big hug, making Bard question himself whether he should let you know of his feelings. Your face when you motioned him to join the group hug made his mind up.

As soon as he found a place for his people and peace came back to reign, he would confess. Hopefully, you felt the same.

Spoiler alert: You definitely did :)

Marvel

I ship you with...

Steve Rogers!

It is an understanding that Steve would help you with history whenever you'd seem to struggle. He'd be the type to tell you stories of his time at war, in hopes it can help you get a better picture of the situations and conditions people lived under.

When Civil War occurred, you were one of the firsts to side with Steve, as you believed that superheroes shouldn't be under no restrictions, not when it came to saving the universe from god knows what dangers. To you it wasn't just a fight, but the fight that would decide how much time Earth had left before something happened, so you took matter into your own hands to convince Wanda and the most reluctant members of team Captain to take part in that.

After parting ways with Tony and the others, you helped Steve and the remaining members who weren't under home arrest -trust me, you really tried to break them out but weren't fast enough- to cure and relax for whatever was about to come.

As you patched Wanda up, you could sense Steve's eyes watching you intently, but decided not to act on it. He was really grateful to have someone so caring and loving despite the circumstances on his team... Or dare he say, his life.

Because for everybody but you, his crush was getting more evident as the days passed; It was a matter of time before he would spill everything he felt. And he hoped you would say yes.

~~~

I hope you liked it anonymous asker ^^!

If you want to request a ship, take a look at this post to see what fandoms I’m doing ships for ^^

#the hobbit ship #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit an unexpected journey #The Hobbit the desolation of smaug #the hobbit the battle of the five armies #marvel ship #marvel #marvel imagine #xmen imagine #xmen ship #Xmen #quicksilver x reader #bard x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Cruella: Does Every Villain Need a Sympathetic Origin Story?

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Clearly this isn’t your parents’ Cruella De Vil. This isn’t even your Cruella De Vil. However, there is something fiendishly charming about seeing Emma Stone charge into a ballroom and light her black and white dress on fire, revealing a chic red number beneath that would do Scarlett O’Hara proud. If fashion is a statement, Cruella is here to say the villain has just arrived!

Yet one can’t help but shake the certainty that by the time we actually learn the plot of Disney’s Cruella reimagining, Cruella will be in anything but black and white, or fiery red. Rather Cruella is obviously posturing to take a sideways approach to an old classic. But then again, that increasingly feels like the only direction these Hollywood redos know: the sympathetic origin story for an iconic villain.

To be clear, we’ve only gotten a glimpse of Stone as the new Cruella, and she looks absolutely fabulous in a black leather coat and cane, purring, “I’m only getting started, darling.” There’s a wildness about this interpretation befitting our current era where Harley Quinn is the hero of her own story, and Wade Wilson now leads a Disney franchise. Nevertheless, when I watch Cruella on the edge of tears in the trailer, barking defiantly that she is CRUELLA—and seemingly embracing an unfair reputation that other characters may be placing on her—a nagging question persists in the back of my head: Do we really need a sympathetic Cruella De Vil?

The trend of supervillains getting intellectual property-expanding sob stories is nothing new, be it at Disney or anywhere else in Hollywood. Maybe 25 years ago when folks liked their villains big and outlandish—think Glenn Close in Disney’s previous live-action remake of 101 Dalmatians—it was novel to see the antagonist become a tragic protagonist. But like everything else with modern blockbusters, that all changed a long, long time ago with something called Star Wars.

Back in 1977 when the original Star Wars movie was released, many audience members left the theater giddy about the world George Lucas created. In a galaxy far, far away, every pop fantasy of the mid-20th century—Wizards! Knights! Princesses! Samurai! World War II ace pilots!—was thrown into a massive cauldron that seamlessly blended these elements.

Luke Skywalker’s galaxy felt like a real place of exotic, lived-in locales, all of which captured that dirt-under-the-fingertips, tactile quality so rarely seen in fantasy stories. Sure the characters might be archetypes, but they came with histories which gave their fantasy space battles human density. Old Ben Kenobi fought in the Clone Wars with Luke’s father Anakin, who was “a gifted pilot.” But what exactly was a clone war? And why was there more than one of them? Also, what did a Jedi’s “more civilized age” look like for Luke’s papa?

For more than 20 years, no one knew the answer to those questions, which made them all the more intriguing, and the “lore” of this fantasy evermore mythic. Then came Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, the first modern blockbuster prequel devoted to filling in the gaps left by a beloved classic’s mysteries. That movie’s problems are numerous, but at its core the most persistent, lingering issue may still be the reveal that Darth Vader was once a blonde haired little boy with the emotional range of Beaver Cleaver. Of course everyone knew in the abstract sense Vader was once a child… but did they ever really want to see it?

Additionally, did anyone really want to learn Anakin Skywalker’s reason for turning to the Dark Side is because of a bratty streak that followed him into adulthood? Probably not.

Nonetheless, all three Star Wars prequels made massive amounts of money and rather than becoming cautionary tales of what happens when you attempt to explain away all the mysteries of a beloved character, they were the first steps toward a modern staple of media regurgitation where seemingly every mug, pug, and thug would get their own sympathetic redo.

Since then, we’ve learned on screen that Spider-Man’s arch-nemesis Venom, is really a well-intentioned bloke caught in a bad romance (with his alien space buddy), Batman’s arch-nemesis the Joker is really just a Travis Bickle clone with mommy issues, and Maleficent, the reigning empress of badassery in the Disney Villain canon, was really just a woman scorned by Sleeping Beauty’s toxic father. Even Hannibal Lecter became a victim in Hannibal Rising, and the Wicked Witch of the West starred in the most popular Broadway musical of all time… where it turns out she was the hero in a conspiracy with the Scarecrow to pull one over on Dorothy.

To be clear, some of these spinoffs and reimaginings work quite well. Even if I personally am a bit chagrined at Todd Phillips’ Joker being nominated for Best Picture, Joaquin Phoenix’s sad sack killer clown created the space for a riveting performance that reminded mainstream audiences that movies can still be for adults. In another comic book movie, Magneto’s heartbreaking backstory in the Holocaust was expanded in 2011’s X-Men: First Class, which made an already relatively complex supervillain just that much more compelling in Michael Fassbender’s hands.

Overall, however, this approach has left something to be desired. And to get back to Cruella, her remix as a misunderstood tragic heroine appears to owe most of all to Maleficent. In 2014, Disney made a killing when they cast movie star Angelina Jolie as their very best big bad, a character so evil in 1959’s Sleeping Beauty that she was willing to knockoff a princess simply because no one sent her a party invite. That’s cold. And it’s wickedly entertaining. Hence why Maleficent scared and captivated generations of children.

Some characters are just too good at being bad.

The marketing of Maleficent leaned into this with a melancholic cover of Sleeping Beauty’s Tchaikovsky-inspired theme song, “Once Upon a Dream.” Now in a minor key, the new version sung by Lana Del Rey promised a scarier, more menacing version of the story, which was then confirmed by Jolie’s wonderfully devilish laugh. The big bad was finally going to have her day at the ball.

But when the movie actually came out, we learned that Maleficent was an enchanted fairy who’d been wronged. In the end, she didn’t hate Elle Fanning’s Princess Aurora. In fact, she loved the little royal and tried to save her from the curse she herself cast in a fit of justified anger. Ultimately, the sorceress adopts Aurora as the daughter she never had after disposing of her now abusive father. That’s certainly an interpretation. I guess.

It also proved massively successful in the short term, opening at a staggering $175.5 million in its opening weekend worldwide, and grossing $758 million total. Those numbers also exclude merchandising and home video revenues. If you want to know why we’re getting the punk rock Cruella, look no further.

However, did a lot of folks really like Maleficent? It made all the money in the world based on that devious marketing campaign that promised a shocking tell-all about Disney’s closest approximation to Lucifer, but by the time a sequel limped into theater five years later, relatively few seemed to still care about the misunderstood, freedom fighting warrior fairy Jolie played. Maleficent: Mistress of Evil ostensibly continued the good fight but flopped at the box office with a cume of $491.7 million, barely more than half of what its predecessor made. (Don’t cry for Disney though, as Avengers: Endgame, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, and remakes of Aladdin and The Lion King in the same year made Maleficent 2 look like a clerical error.)

What this whole sputtering franchise reminds us though is that some characters are better left bad, and the mystique of the unknown is an end unto itself. While I enjoyed Phoenix’s take on the Joker, there is little argument the character was even scarier with a PG-13 rating when he manifested out of thin air, like Beelzebub, in The Dark Knight. Or to take a step away from just villains, was Han Solo really any cooler when you learned how he got his name in Solo: A Star Wars Story? Or could you have gone your whole life without knowing thanks to The Hobbit movies that Gandalf and Galadriel were kind of, sort of, just maybe friends with benefits?

The allure of Cruella De Vil is right there in her name: She’s a cruel devil. How could she not be when her entire ambition in Disney’s classic 101 Dalmatians is to skin puppies for their fur coats? Finding out she used to fight the power before hoarding it may make a lot of money, but it doesn’t make her necessarily more compelling.

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