#tolkienverse imagine

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 1 - A way to break the ice

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series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

first chapter synopsis: Thranduil traveled to a village that reported spider attacks with his army to protect those who need it, and accepted when a respected family offered their inn so his army could rest. He didn't expect to find a mage there. Or for the dam to break. [3K]

warnings: female!reader. lotr kinda of violence. pre-Smaug.

glossary: Lossëistar: Ice Mage┆Mithrandir: Grey Pilgrim┆

Gandalf it's a recuring face in the inn. In some months he appears twice, mostly at the end of the year when he don't have anything else to do, but he never goes more than a month without coming back. Even if he can stay only for a day or two, he always comes back.

Gandalf has been to so many places. Met so many people. Lives so many adventures. So why does he keep coming back? It's just a normal village filled with normal people living normal lives. It's a good place to live, but not the kind of place people want to visit.

"I will see you next month?" Helping him saddle the sorrel, you asked the obvious. Goodbyes were never your forte. Hearing more, even if it's something you've heard before, is better than being silent for the whole time. You already miss him.

You led the horse out of the inn's stable, petting it. The cool breeze made your hair fly. Autumn has begun to announce itself. The sorrel tried to run away, but you held him in place.

"There is someone I need to visit, a master who needs advice", you know that tone of voice. Gandalf uses it whenever you do something stupid. Something as recurrent as his presence at the inn. Someone is about to hear a stern lectur, and you're so relieved it's not you.

"Good luck to the poor person you will pay a visit." You say as he mounts the sorrel. Part of you is still surprised that someone so old would be able to ride a horse so easily, but looks can be deceiving. Gandalf is older than he looks, as well as more skilled.

Gandalf appreciated the river that cut through the property, focusing on the sound of water lapping against rocks. It was one of the reasons for the inn to be so popular. Away from the village center, higher on the mountain, there the water was so calm. So crystalline. But in the background Gandalf could see the high wooden dam. It held back the stormy river, ensuring that it wouldn't run to the waterfall miles ahead and crash against the village.

Suddenly a familiar fear gripped your body. He always comes back, but you're always afraid that one day he'll realize this is just a waste of his time. And if one day he decides not to come back, you'll be alone. "You will not forget about me, will you?"

Awakened by your voice, Gandalf faced you. His voice went softer. "Continuing to ask will not change the answer."

"But why do you keep coming back?" The sorrel stirred. You had to take a step back, and you could felt that Gandalf would use that to move away without really answering you. "You really do not know what happened to me before my awakening? Why did you help me?"

"Continuing to ask will not change the answer." Gandalf led the horse away. And so he goes, without really answering you. As always. "Farewell, persistent girl, and do not cause troubles."

"I can't promise anything." Gandalf sighed. He knows you're being honest in the same way you know he isn't. "Good ridance, Gandalf!"

You stood still, watching him go down the mountain. When he disappeared into the ash trees, taking some of your fear with him, you took a deep breath and remembered that you had a lot to do. Aerin is a kind landlady, but she made it clear that your stay would not be paid with grateful smiles and friendly words.

Gandalf is always travelling, you never have an address to send letters. He usually sends you a letter a week, but you never have a way to respond. But inside the stable, surrounded by horses that needed your attention, work managed to override your concern. Everything would be fine. Everything always turns out fine.

So why does you feel like something bad will happen?

"Breakfast!" You served each horse a mixture of fresh grass, hay and silage, thereby distracting them to prepare a new bedding for them. "Good morning, beauties."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Elrond called the Counsil.

Four hundred years of peace. The enemy was dead. Sauron was dead. It's being a long time, but something had awakened in Rivendell. Something dark and hungry. Something that none could ignore. Evil things did not come into that valley, but maybe something was born there.

"That is not enough to think something is happening", Saruman explained. Sitting in his armchair, Saruman's pearly tunica appeared to be floating as he move his hand. "Orcs and spiders? Not enough."

Galadriel countered the room. Her white gown gleamed at every step, almost hurting the eyes of those who dare to look direct at it. Just almost, the temptation to look at her was bigger than the discomfort.

"It would not." Galadriel whispered. "But we are not talking about ocasional attacks. It's strategical. They are hunting something. Something south of Rivendell."

Gandalf glared at Saruman. He grabbed his staff, holding it closer to him. That subject wasn't on a good path. Not a good path for them.

The Istari came in five. Not that anyone but Elrond, Cirdan and Galadriel knew what they really are. The rest of the world see them as inopportune pilgrims, but they're so much more than that.

Saruman the White, a Maia of Aulë, leader of the White Counsil. The enemy of Sauron. The one who advice great lords, who is responsible for the biggest events, present whenever a important choice needs to be made. When the War of the Ring start, he will be the one fighting Sauron.

Gandalf the Grey, a Maia of Manwë and Varda. The one to defeat evil by the lives of commons. The wiser. When the War of Ring start, Gandalf will be with the soldiers and squires.

Radagast the Brow, a Maia of Yavanna. The protector of Nature and it's life. The avenger of animals and plants. When the War of Ring start, he won't interfere. Saruman don't speak to him since he made his decision.

And there are the two blueses. The ones whos only purpose is to defend humans. Different than Gandalf, they don't organize humans. Different than Saruman, they don't empower them. They're here to purely defend humans from Sauron. Saruman pretend they don't exist. It's been years since Gandalf spoke their names. Elrond and Galadriel often ask about them, but they resufe to answer.

Saruman looked into his tired eyes, and Gandalf understood what he was saying: "Do not".

Elrond was bewitched by the landscape in front of him. He could see the river, the montains, the infinity of the sky. And he felt it. A shadow that grows in the dark. Elrond still not sure if it's something evil, but it's powerful. "Sauron have..."

"Do not even start with this!" Saruman nodded. "Sauron is dead. He is done."

At one point while Saruman and master Elrond discussed, Saruman's only argument being the death of Sauron and Elrond trying to use some logic to explain his fear, Gandalf heard a voice on his head. "What are you hiding from us, Mithrandir?"

Gandalf smiled at Galadriel. His white long beard almost covered it, but she saw it. "Nothing."

"We are not summoned to argue about the Enemy's existence." Thraunduil rose from his chair, but it would take a fool to not perceive how, even simple and identical to those of the other counsil members, it looked like a throne. Thranduil was a king, his presence lived up to his reputation. "We are here to put an end to these vermin."

"Finally someone with a agile mind", Saruman intonate. He was relieved someone changed the topic.

Master Elrond sit down. "This horde keep reproducing. Until we find the nest, the spiders will keep coming back."

"Then we know what to do." Thranduil put and end to the endless discussion. "Mine guar..."

The door was flung open, shaking the council room. A sweaty, breathless messenger leaned against it, legs shaking with exhaustion. His eyes met Elrond's, who immediately rose and approached. "We found another litter."

"Where?" Galadriel asked.

"Above the tributaries of the Bruinen River, in the gorge of the last dam." The messenger straightened up. "They're at least twelve."

"Wake up the intendant," Elrond ordered. "Tell him to prepare my armor."

Saruman swallowed hard. It would be too close. If Elrond... He glared at Gandalf, hoping he could think of an excuse. Elrond would need just a look to recognized her. He can't be near the dam.

"In a token of gratitude for your hospitality," Thranduil made his way near to Elrond. He touched his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Kind words, but attention would show that pride lurked among them. "Let me defeat these insects for you."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

They rode in twenty. Led by the Elvenking, the little guard entered the mangrove with their golden armour lit by the midday sun. Protected from the rear by the Elvenking, the little guard came out of the mangrove with their bloody armour lit by the sunset.

They were still twenty.

"Our mounts need to rest before our return", Gildor saddle his sorrel. One of Elrond's captains, he was the one that managed to map the nest and guided Thranduil and his guard to annihilate the spiders. "Just like your elk, your grace."

Thranduil carressed his brave elk. A longtime companion, that faced bigger threats than a nest of spiders. He wasn't tired, Thranduil could ride back to his realm if he wanted to, but his men needed to rest. "We went through a village, didn't we?"

"Yes, your grace", Gildor pointed to a trampled tail. "An inn favored by master Elrond would gladly welcome us, with comfort and food for us and our mounts. I took the liberty of sending a letter to inform our stay when we were getting organized in Rivendell."

It was a long road. The trail ran along the mountain, climbing towards the setting sun. The sound of running water showed that they were arriving, but what really made them understand that the path had ended was the sound of chitchat. Coming out from the trees, the Elvenking and his men were greeted by dozens of people.

The grooms approached first, taking the horses from the guards with many smiles and promises of good care. As the king descended from his elk, everyone bowed and thanked him for defeating the spiders. Leading the small crowd, a short, plump lady approached.

"Lady Aerin, the owner of the inn", Gildor whispered to Thranduil.

"I imagine it must have been a long and painful journey, your grace." Aerin used sweet words, but it was clear that she practiced them a few times. "All my employees shall respond to your orders, no matter what they are. I know my little inn is nothing compared to your castle, but I hope it brings you comfort."

It was obviously true, but it was modest to say that this was a small inn. It was an immense structure, perhaps six floors high, and the long stables were visible even from the entrance. Nothing compared to a castle, but it certainly wasn't small.

Aerin was kind, personally guiding the king to his chambers. While everyone bathed, supper was cooked and the horses tended. The sun had already set when they gathered for supper, and the food was delicious.

"It's a very lovely inn", Thranduil tried to calm Aerin. Her nervousness was clear.

"Oh, your grace, that's very kind of you." The old lady smiled, then went back to her food. The lull was marvelous, but it didn't last long. But this time, Aerin was trying to whisper to her son. Trying, not succeeding. "Why is she taking so long? I'm starting to worry."

Gildor took a sip from his wine. "You talk about the Lossëistar?"

Aerin was surprised he could hear her. After all, she was so subtle. "She was supossed to be back by now. It's a long way to the fair, but not that long."

"Lossëistar?" Thranduil was interested. "An elve mage life here?"

Aerin and Gildor glared at one another. Gildor was the one that responded Thranduil. "Not exactly an elve, not exactly a mage."

His interest got bigger. "Explain yourself."

Aerin sighed. "She... Look, I don't mean to gossip, I really don't." She looked around the room, and began to whisper. "We don't really know what she is. She definitely isn't human. But an elve... I don't think she's tall enough to be one."

Thranduil laughed at Aerin's honesty. "What's the cause of such confusion?"

The younger boy, Aerin's son, responded before his mom could. "She's weird. Gandalf worries about her."

"Beren!" Aerin scolded him. "Keep yourself silent!"

Thranduil's interest turned into something else. Gandalf isn't exactly a friend, as he often delivers bad news and forget who's the ruler, but Thranduil is wiser to not underestimate him. Elrond and Galadriel care for him, and Thranduil respect their wit. If Gandalf has someone under his wing, then he has his reasons. Thranduil can't help but to wonder why.

Before he could ask more, the creak of the entrance door was heard. "Lady Aerin," a female voice echoed to the hall. It was melodic, Thranduil could sense the happiness. "You won't believe what I found!"

You entered the hall holding a basket full of fabrics, herbs and pots. "Close your eyes, it's a surprise." You were looking for something inside the basket as you walked towards the hall, not even noticing that it wasn't empty.

Thranduil swallowed hard.

Your dress was wrinkled and muddy, the marks of a long, busy day of walking. Your loose hair, falling around your shoulders, framed your face with a sense of freedom. The smile on your lips, so simple and true, carried such lightness. Your crooked steps, of those who need to balance their weight with the heavy basket in order not to fall, were lit by candles. There were violets in your eyes. They glowed. You glowed, even without intention.

"Lossëistar", Aerin called. "We're not alone."

Your smiled died before you rose your face. Lossëistar. It's been more than a year, but she never called you by your name. Don't matter what you say, they never hear you. What's the reason to keep trying? But then you rose your face, and you disappointment turned into shame.

"Your grace", you bowed. "Pardon for the interruption."

Thranduil took a deep breath. He could smell the salty scent, a mixture of earth and herbs, emanating from you. A shiver rose the Elvenking's spine. "Apparently you're late."

"You're supossed to be here two hours ago", said Aerin. "Are you fine, kid?"

"The horse you borrowed me wasn't obedient." You looked up. Your eyes alternated between Thranduils's and Aerin's. With a sign of his head, you slowly stand up. You may be a fool on a few subjects, but you always know when your presence isn't expected. With another bow, you walked towards the entrance. "Have a good night."

"Supper with us." Thranduil didn't control his own tongue. There was something about you that intrigued him. He repeated to himself that he was only trying to find out what interested Gandalf, but he was too clever to be so easily deceived.

"Your grace is so kind, but she don't need to", Aerin thought it was the right thing to say. "I'll bring you a plate when we're done. Thank him, Lossëistar, for his generosity."

Thranduil's voice was heard again. But this time it was different. It was less graceful, less friendly. It was the voice of a leader, and a tired one. "What makes you think that an invitation to dinner and a cold dish are equivalent?"

Aerin blinked. "I'm sorry, your grace. I thought..."

"Join us, lady", the Elvenking looked into your eyes.

Unsure of how to proceed, you followed in silence to the empty armchair at the end of the table. Next to Aerin's son, who was staring at you in a way you couldn't identify, one of the employees served a plate. Conversation returned, Gildor launched into a subject that made the tension in the air dissipate, but you could feel the weight of the Elvenking gaze.

"The last time we saw each other", Gilgor smiled at you. "You still didn't knew how to ride."

You smiled at him, but discomfort gripped your body. You were too dirty, too tired, to sit across from a king. You must have reeked of mud and riding horses. How was your face? And your hair? He's very kind, kinder than the stories about the Mirkwood elves, but it was humiliating.

"I'm still learning." You tried to sound comfortable on your own skin. "I'm not the best, but also not the worst."

"Certainly a stimulant way of thinking, Lossëistar."

"I'm sure you have a name, my lady." Thranduil didn't bother smiling. It was weird the way people didn't addressed you by your name.

"I... I do." You bit your tongue. "People just don't use it."

"So it's about time we change this."

A warmth took over your cheeks. You told him your name, and only then you noticed how long it been since you last heard it. It felt nice to have the Elvenking saying it, almost testing how it sounded on his tongue.

But everything was forgotten after the explosion. The guards got up, not sure what was going on, but you knew that sound. It was the sound of work. The sound of letters and more letters of complaint being ignored. The sound of the dozens of times the village had to rebuild everything because they didn't fix the problem while there was still time. It was the sound of water. And it was near.

You drank the rest of your wine before getting up. "A moment, please."

You ran out of the inn. As imagined, the dam had broken. The second time this month. "That's what happens when you keep solving it," you said to yourself. "They know you're going to fix everything so they don't even bother doing something."

Mist dominated the river bank. You took a deep breath and ran closer to the forest, as far away as possible. You took a bow out of your pocket and tied your hair in a tight knot. The last thing you needed was something clinging to your face. You heard the screams of some of the guards, but didn't let that distract you.

It raced down the gorge, skipping the bank and destroying everything in its path. You could hear the trees bending, you could feel the cold, hard wind burning your face. When the trees behind you shuddered, you knew you could start. So you ran towards the river.

You ran and ran and ran. You stopped walking on leaves to step on land, then you stopped stepping on land to run over the river. And you didn't dive. You just ran, a thin layer of ice forming with each step, and you ran towards the pouring water. And when it was so close she could crush you, knock the air out of your lungs and claim it as it's own, you stuck out your finger and touch the wave.

And as quickly as it started, it ended. It ended with you standing in the middle of the river, with tons of frozen water in front of you, and a speechless Elvenking.

[Second Chapter]

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

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#madwomansapologist #autumn thunderstorm #thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil x y/n #thranduil oropherion #thranduil imagine #lee pace #gandalf #lotr #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x y/n #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings imagine #the hobbit #tolkien #tolkienverse #elrond #saruman #galadriel

[ironmandeficiency]

modern lotr character headcanons

characters included: aragorn, boromir, gimli, legolas, pippin, merry, frodo, sam, arwen, eomer, eowyn

word count: 745

summary: random thoughts abt lotr characters if they lived in modern times

a/n: this is literally just silly shit, enjoy

boromir listens to old country (conway twitty, george jones, loretta lynn, etc.) and does not tolerate anyone insulting the opry legends

he also listens to divorced dad rock (hinder, nickelback, theory of a dead man, etc.) which gimli will sometimes jam to as well

gimli lovingly maintains an old-as-dirt bench seat ford truck despite there almost constantly being something wrong with it. ignores legolas’s badgering about him getting something more reliable

obviously legolas drives a hybrid and he almost acts as if this fact makes him better than gimli (not in a dickish way, though)

horse girl aragorn.

frodo is the epitome of shy emo boy with the black skinny jeans & death cab for cutie playing in his air pods

merry is the golden retriever in the “golden retriever in love with the black cat” trope 

aragorn and arwen host game nights and various other parties for their friends, but neither of them can cook so they just order delivery (or sam hijacks their kitchen for the hours before)

pippin has a large follower base on social media bc of his drinking songs and other inebriated antics that are usually recorded by whoever happens to be with him that night. usually it’s eowyn & merry, and the three of them will shake some major ass to megan thee stallion

sam goes to open mic nights at local coffee shops to people watch. he will never perform himself, but it’s nice to watch people he knows do their thing

eomer accidentally goes viral on tiktok when eowyn records him doing some dumb shit. never lives it down

the amount of joy gimli gets from going to rage rooms is almost alarming

arwen has a very thorough skin care regimen that she introduces to aragorn, and it becomes a sweet nightly routine for the two of them

eowyn & eomer don’t allow anyone to talk shit about or annoy the other bc that’s their job fuck you very much

frodo has a shitty immune system but sam’s homemade soups seem to always heal from the soul outward

sam is the little spoon favored by the resident neurodivergent

frodo is the resident neurodivergent

yes they’re dating

arwen is always the dd

when it comes to birthdays, don’t ask boromir to remember anyone but faramir’s. hell, he forgets his own birthday sometimes

legolas is the best at remembering the birthdays of his friends but forgets his own

they have to remind each other of their own birthdays when that time of year comes around

merry is always the favorite audience member at a drag show

arwen & eowyn never dress like they’re going to the same place when they hang out

gimli says southern grandpa idioms unironically — “as useless as a screen door on a submarine”, “higher than eagle titties”, “busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest”, you get the idea. merry keeps a running tab of said quotes

boromir is the “we’re not getting a dog” dad. said dog ends up being his best friend & the sole inheritor in his will, fuck them kids

aragorn & gimli have their own moonshine still they think is perfectly hidden from everyone

that does not include merry & pippin, who are booze bloodhounds and immediately knew where to find it but swore to secrecy as long as they got more than everyone else

frodo sips fruity little drinks because he can’t shoot whiskey

sam can drink in the way only a divorced middle-age man can despite not being a divorced middle-aged man

eowyn cannot drive for shit & the several dents on her car prove it. the only reason her insurance hasn’t gone up astronomically is because she just. doesn’t report any of it

said car has a fuck ton of bumper stickers with all sorts of silly things

gimli can’t ride a bike AT ALL but has a motorcycle, make it make sense

he goes on bike rides with eomer when they have the time & the weather is nice

merry & pippin are two halves of a whole idiot at every given moment

eomer LOVES 90s and 00s country music but is kinda picky about newer country (he is a massive fan of cody johnson but will throw you through a wall if you talk about morgan wallen in his presence)

arwen dances in the rain & literally never gets sick from it. merry is insanely jealous of this fact

frodo’s favorite video game is animal crossing: new horizons & has very sound opinions on what villagers are the best (fuck you, rodney)

#lotr imagine #lotr headcanons #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings headcanons #aragorn x arwen #frodo x sam #the fellowship of the ring #modern au #tolkienverse #lotr modern au #boromir #gimli #arwen #aragorn #frodo baggings #samwise gamgee #merry brandybuck #pippin took #legolas thranduilion #eomer eadig #eowyn of rohan

[whoooooisthis]

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Summary: A celebration of summer solstice goes better than expected - sharing your customs really pays off.

Featuring: Kili x gn! reader, kinda Slavic reader, dwarven and Slavic-themed midsummer traditions, mentions of Bagginshield, also featuring my dear friend @the-axe-lass and her beloved Dwalin :) proofreading done by @erosofthepen

<-->

Erebor’s main market was particularly overflowing today, with dwarves and men alike. Cheerful conversation mixed into a pleasant buzz as everyone went about their business. However now, in the middle of June, mundane chores were brushed aside, and preparations for a Midsummer festival were in full swing.

Dwarves just loved winter holidays - Durin’s Day, Yule, and any other you could possibly think of - but you had to admit, they did not dismiss the summer solstice. And neither did the men from the kingdom of Dale, preparing countless bonfires, boats and lanterns.

Despite the festival being in over a week, your dear hobbit friend, Axe, absolutely insisted on going to the market today in search of the best ingredients for any holiday dish there might be in store. Now, you tried to keep up with her as you pushed through the dense crowd.

“Those look just wonderful, don’t you think?” Axe said as she held up a pair of earrings next to her face, the precious gems gleaming, the metal around them smithed with finesse.

“Will you be buying them for the celebrations?” You stood behind her, gazing in the small mirror and admiring the dwarven craft.

“I don’t know, maybe. I heard those stones are a good-luck charm around here.”

“Let’s hope your favourite warrior attends the feast then, so the charm will have a chance to work, hm?” You grinned mischievously as the hobbit blushed a deep cherry, muttering something about Dwalin “having to attend as a royal guard” and “totally not going there to see anyone”. In an attempt to recover, she quickly changed the topic, rambling about the Shire’s customs - the dances, gathering herbs, baking and, above all, Gandalf’s fireworks.

“Well now, now, you didn’t tell me about your traditions! I must hear them!” She bumped your shoulder encouragingly.

“We celebrate the night of the solstice, and there’s lots of stuff about bonfires - dancing around them, jumping over the fire, burning herbs. Wreaths are a big thing - they’re woven out of flowers and herbs. In the old times, young maidens used to place a candle in their wreath and let it float down a river. Boys would wait lower, and if they caught a wreath, they’d go and search for its owner, and often that’s how romance started. Nowadays, even giving someone a flower crown on that night can be a romantic sign.”

Axe seemed to be deep in thought all of a sudden. “So, a nice wreath on the night of midsummer could be a courting gift? A way to ask someone out?”

“Pretty much, yeah” you replied, brows furrowed at your friend’s odd antics. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was just curious.”

←→

The day finally came, and it was filled with laughter, songs, food and drinks. Ribbons decorated all of Dale, and banners with intricate patterns were hung in Erebor. Dwarves, per their tradition, spent most of the day in the forges. The fires of hearths at midsummer were thought to be sacred, and their heat could forge the strongest weapons that were usually meant as a gift for royalty or loved ones.You could have sworn you saw the King, Thorin Oakenshield himself sneaking out of the forges with a mysterious package, but you had to wait until the evening to find out what it could have been.

And finally, the night came, and when it did, it was unrivalled in its splendour. The air was hot and thick with smoke, and the stars shone bright over the cities. It was one of the very few nights when most of Erebor dined and celebrated under the night sky, not in their glorious stone halls. Dozens of people joined together to dance through the streets, and around the tall bonfires. The herbs that were burned gave the air an intoxicating scent, which only seemed to encourage you to fill your goblet and dance away the night.

Your friends seemed to have disappeared somewhere into the crowd, so not thinking much, you joined the nearest group and let yourself be carried through the fields. You twirled, jumped and laughed, trying to sing along to the foreign tune of people from Dale, and marvelling at their flutes and bagpipes. Their culture was still foreign to you, as you were someone from outside of Middle Earth. Your white linen shirt and its embroideries did not match their garb, but they took you in with open arms like their kin, and you celebrated among them.

The dancing crowd carried you to the tallest hill between Dale and Erebor, and in your fervour you bumped into a large wooden table, and promptly apologised as you almost knocked out a pint of ale.

Only when Fili laughed lightheartedly at you, had you realised that this table is the royal one, with Thorin's throne in the middle, and the whole court sat around it.

And as you were pushed away again, you saw Kili.

You had always been drawn to him, ever since meeting him, ever since going on a perilous journey by his side. Even if other dwarves had taunted him for his lack of beard or pointy features, you had always quietly admired his beauty. To be honest, you didn't even notice the day when you woke up, and he was already engrained deep in your heart.

And he wasn't helping at all. He sat next to you by the fire, sharpened your weapons, defended you from orcs even when he didn't have to.

You danced around each other during the journey, unsure of the other’s feelings, afraid of rejection and humiliation, but constantly in fear the other might perish in battle. Now, in times of peace, it seemed even harder. Royal duties took his company away from you, the two of you only sharing looks across corridors now instead of honest conversations by the fire as you used to.

But now, there he was - mithril and gems that were sewn into his tunic gleaming in firelight, his eyes trained on you. You broke away from the dancing circle and sent him a smile over the flames.

Maybe tonight, fate would bring you two together. It was the summer solstice after all, a night of magic and festivities. But no, you brushed that idea aside. To dwarves, the solstice was barely a milestone, an indicator that it’s already halfway to the Day of Durin. Maybe it was a day full of festivities, but it was nothing like it was back home. In your culture, the solstice, Kupała’s night, was truly a day of fire: jumping over bonfires, walking on coals and dancing with torches, but first and foremost, it was a day of fire in lovers’ hearts. Wreaths were woven with the intention of finding love, soft promises were spoken under the moonlight, and often this was the only night when two young people were allowed to walk away and cherish one another’s company in quiet groves.

But how could he know that? The sly smile on his face couldn’t have meant anything. Especially that after breaking eye contact, he seemed to have already forgotten of your existence, filling his goblet with warm wine and chatting with Thorin, who looked off into the distance like he didn’t hear his nephew.

You were taken by the current of the dancing masses, losing sight of the royal table and getting further away from it, even though you desperately wished to go closer. You saw your friends in the crowd - Bofur was already standing on a nearby table and serenading, Axe and Dwalin on his left, holding hands as they finally danced together, both blushing but lost in the moment. Truly, this must have been the very first time you saw the tough warrior’s cheeks redden. Love really has an odd effect on people. And Bilbo, who after all decided to stay in Erebor, tried to look completely unbothered and only interested in the pie before him, but you couldn’t help but notice the not-really-sneaky glances he shot in the general direction of the royal table and Thorin’s chair.

You, however, searched for Kili with your gaze, but found his chair empty and his plate unfinished. He must have disappeared when you weren’t looking, but the rest of his family was seated as before.

“May I have a dance?” A voice from behind startled you, and when you turned around, you were met with the very dwarf you seeked out. Kili stood before you smiling, his hand extended in an invitation. Fire seemed to be dancing in his eyes, lighting up the deep amber and bringing up the ever-present mischievous glint. Your heart started beating a little faster, but you still tried to convince yourself it was just from exertion.

His face lit up as you agreed, and he soon snatched you by your waist and twirled around with you to the new, lively tune. You felt your cheeks redden and hoped he wouldn’t notice in the dim firelight. Strong arms embraced you, and your skin was hot beneath the hands that grasped your waist and shoulder. You couldn’t remember how long it was since Kili was so close to you, your breaths mingling, your gazes never leaving each other.

The song ended too soon, and you both pulled away, suddenly aware of the proximity and warmth that you shared. Kili smirked and bowed low before you, brown hair falling in a beautiful mess around his face. You chuckled at his antics and replied with a pale imitation of a curtsy, before taking his hand in yours again.

“Thank you for the dance. It was… amazing.” Kili blushed and turned his eyes away in embarrassment. For a moment he stroked your palm with his thumb absentmindedly, like he was on a threshold of some important decision. But then, you could see his back straightening as he pulled your hand and started walking towards a nearby birch forest.

“Come on. I want to show you something.”

You raced after him, the laughter of the dancers fading and the light of the fires dimming slowly. Soon it was just the two of you in the serene forest. Kili kept looking behind him to make sure you're still there, even though he could hear you perfectly. Each time, he tightened his hand around yours, as to make sure you're tangible, and not just a figment of his imagination.

And you did the same, because the soft moonlight falling on his features made him look like the most beautiful, ethereal dream, something that can be blown away by the wind. But he was there, and his warmth and strong embrace reassured you.

You jumped over a small stream, your feet landing in soft moss. You let him lead you, through groves and clearings basked in the silvery light. He covered your eyes with his hand, giggling, and guided you through a curtain of vine.

He brought you to the most beautiful place you could imagine. Seemingly untouched by mortal foot, dewy moss laid like a carpet around a sparkling lake. Snowy water lilies softly swayed under the force of countless waterfalls cascading down the rocks, and the sounds of nature were the sweetest music to your ears.

You gasped as you looked around in awe, your fingers still laced softly with your love's. You took all of the beauty in, brushed your hand over the leaves and breathed the fresh air deep, but when you turned back to Kili, his eyes hadn't moved from you.

"Do you like it?"

"Like it? Kili, I- It's gorgeous here!"

"Good thing it's not all. Wait here." He quickly jogged away and pulled something out of a hollow tree. He hid it behind his back as he walked back to you. Your gazes locked as he grabbed your hands and put something cold and soft in them.

A wreath.

A beautiful, hand-woven wreath of wild herbs, white flowers and red berries. You could see Kili's hand in the knots and in the placement of the flowers.

A wreath. A declaration of love. A courting gift, or a marriage proposal. And he didn't know.

Tears started to gather in your eyes. Oh, how much you wished he would know what he had just gifted you.

"Kili, it's beautiful, but I can't-" You outstretched your hands towards him, trying to give him the too generous gift back.

The prince placed a warm hand on yours, and closed them over the crown.

"I mean it."

"You can't possibly know-"

"I know, and I mean it." Kili took a step closer to you, your breaths mixing, the air thick between the two of you. "Your friend told me all about it, and I thought… I thought that if there's a chance that you feel the same about me as I feel about you, then I could at least try."

You were speechless. You had dreamt of this many times, of him somehow returning your feeling. It even felt like a dream, the kind of dream you wake up from with a bitter taste of longing, but then you brought your hand up to your love's cheek, and he was there. He was there, his skin flushing and his heartbeat just as fast as your own.

"Will you be mine, and allow me to be yours?" he asked hopefully. "Will you wear-"

"Yes." you breathed out. "Yes, a thousand times yes."

Two pairs of trembling hands lifted the wraith to the top of your head. Kili's hands set it there, and slid down your hair, ghosting over your temples and cheeks in the most tender caress. And then he captured your lips, soft and full of adoration, and you gladly reciprocated. The world stopped around you as the flame in your hearts burned united, brighter than ever.

You parted for breath. His forehead came to rest gently against yours, and you felt at home. Kili's hair slipped through your fingers as you caressed his cheek and neck. He paid respect to your traditions, and you could do just the same.

"Would you allow me to braid your hair, Kili?"

#kili #kili x reader #kili durin #kili imagine #kili x you #kili durin x reader #the hobbit #slavic #wit.fics #midsummer #solstice #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #tolkienverse #dwarrow #dwarves #dwarf #kili the hobbit #the hobbit kili #the hobbit x reader #reader insert

[mismaeve]

Weave me a Lullaby

↳ Weave me a Lullaby, Elrond x Reader, a fluffy drabble Based on this imagine by @imagine-all-the-elves Warnings: None

Imagine falling asleep in Elrond's arms, him stroking your hair gently

Darkness was everywhere, slowly yet steadily creeping closer inch by inch. Horrified, you realised there was no escaping it. Soon it would surround you and crash over you like a wave that’s been a hundred years in the making and drown you within mere seconds, forcing you to open your mind to all of your greatest fears.

To live through them, to feel them in your heart and soul until the arrival of your breaking point where you would be compelled to beg for it to end, to plead for death, for there would lie your only hope of ever feeling peace again. Yet make no mistake, it would almost always turn out to be nothing more but a ruse. There would be no relief in death, only more torment and pain, everlasting horror that would go on for all time.

Meleth.

A familiar voice was floating through the thick folds of the growing darkness, a gentle voice whose strength was woven in light and made brighter still by love.

Wake up, meleth.

The voice urged you. You could feel the cold hard fingers of the looming darkness grip your throat, but before they could proceed to squeeze the last of the light from your seemingly trapped soul, a shimmering wave of light broke through the thick veil and chased away the hungering fingers that would have devoured you whole.

At last, almost as if by a force beyond your control or understanding, your eyes opened to find the concerned face of Elrond hovering over you.

“Elrond?” you gasped, feeling lightheaded and out of breath. Your heart was beating rapidly inside your chest, the delicate silken nightclothes clinging to your damp flesh in an uncomfortable manner while a cold drop of sweat trickled down the length of your shivering spine.

“You had a nightmare, my love,” Elrond hummed as his fingers proceeded to brush away a loose strand of hair from your sweat-beaded forehead before gently blowing on it for much needed relief.

His arms wrapped themselves around your frame, pulling you closer to him and the safety and serenity his presence provided. Resting your head on the softness of his chest, you allowed your mind to relax to the soothing beating of his heart while his fingers began stroking your slightly damp hair.

“I don’t understand why I keep suffering from these foul dreams,” you whispered quietly against the skin on his chest.

“Perhaps you worry too much, meleth. What did you see?” Elrond asked before pressing his lips to your throbbing temple.

You wanted to tell him that there hadn’t been much to see, only a black nothing that had no beginning and no end. What had terrified you the most had been the feeling it had given you, a sense of impending doom and torment. A vision of the kind of pain that would last for eternity.

“I saw what I imagine hopelessness to be like. A dark pit where everything withers and ceases to exist,” you couldn’t help but shiver at the vivid memory of your nightly terror.

There was a brief silence between you while Elrond considered your words. Only the faint whispers of the wind could be heard in the rustling of the leaves outside your chamber windows. The night was wearing on, taking care as to not wake the sleeping world and disturb their peaceful slumber.

“Is it guilt that bothers you?” Elrond asked quietly after a while.

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your brow.

“I could be wrong, but maybe you find yourself to be truly happy at last, and therefore are frightened that it will not last? Do you feel guilty for living a blissful life when all around you there is so much suffering and pain?” he explained patiently in that tempered and gentle tone you had come to admire so dearly.

You took a moment to weigh his words, filled to the brim with impeccable reasoning and logic, yet again making you wonder if perhaps he also possessed the gift of insight. How could you not marvel at the endless wisdom he carried in him; tender words of counsel meant to ease your growing worry.

“You’re making me sound like you,” you teased and felt his chest rumble softly with a faint chuckle.

“Would that be such a tragedy, meleth?” Elrond mused lightly, his fingers still moving through your hair in a tireless and effortless manner. Every gentle stroke pulling you further away from the darkness of your nightmares and into the light of his love.

“I would consider it a blessing,” you murmured and moved to nuzzle your face against the crook of his neck, and closed your eyes, relieved that she shadows of the darkness had fully retreated at last. Elrond planted a loving kiss to your temple before resting his head atop yours.

“Sleep now, the light of my life. I shall watch over you,” he whispered softly.

Words had retired for the night, and your shared chamber had once again grown silent and still, except for the steady and gentle moving of his hand that continued to stroke your hair and brush away all that was left of worry and fear. With each falling stroke, you drifted closer and closer to peaceful sleep until the world faded away entirely, wrapped in a featherlight shawl of light and warmth and filled with dreams of never-ending bliss. Only the soothing and measured manner in which his fingers trickled through your hair remained, a delicately woven lullaby.

Liked it? Likes/reblogs/comments are hugely appreciated and encouraged! 💕

Gif credit: @incomplete-coincidence

Taglist: @kanafinwe-makalaure @i-did-not-mean-to @aduialel @coopsgirl @heilith @missymoo02 @itsdameron @augustwithquills @elrondsimp

Let me know if you wanna be either added or removed from the taglist!

#elrond #elrond peredhel #elrond x reader #elrond x you #rivendell #rivendell elves #elrond fluff #tolkien #lord of the rings #the hobbit #fotfics #tolkienverse #maeve writes #elrond imagine

[demonscantgothere]

Valian Years vs. Solar Years in regards to Galadriel's Age:

Valian Years get a little tricky in Tolkienverse sometimes because J.R.R. devised some different methods for telling them. Tolkien Gateway points out the differences between the two, and the inherent problems with one of the published versions we have as well:

In the 1930s and 1940s, Tolkien handled a length of the Valian year fluctuated slightly around a round number of 10 solar years. In the notes to The Annals of Aman, Tolkien stated a single Valian year lasts 1,000 Valian days, defined as the duration of a complete flowering of the Two Trees of Valinor. Each of these Valian days is divided into 12 Valian hours, with each Valian hour having a duration equivalent to 7 solar hours. Thus, a single Valian year would last 84,000 solar hours. As a single solar year is approximately 8,766 hours, it was easy to calculate the equivalence of 9.582 solar years for each Valian year. However, in the 1950s, J.R.R. Tolkien decided to use a much larger measurement, 144 solar years for each Valian year, and included this concept in his Appendices to The Lord of the Rings as the duration of yén, or Elvish "great year". If this new duration were applied to the earlier works, they would extend the time line dramatically: the duration of the Flight of the Noldor, which was 5 Valian Years, went from signifying around 50 solar years to being converted in about 700 solar years. So the new definition should be understood as belonging to a new conception that is completely different from the previous one, and therefore not applicable to the dates noted in previous drafts of Tolkien's writings.

source (x)

If we accept the first draft as true with what he wrote in The Annals of Aman, it would make Galadriel approximately 138 Valian years, or 1,322 solar years old, by the end of the Years of the Trees. This is a sensibly young age for an Elf, as she was still considered young at the time, and works well within the Legendarium. Which makes each Valian year approximately 9.582 solar years. So, 1 Valian year = a little under 10 solar years.

Now, if we apply what he published in Appendix D of The Lord of the Rings decades later from what he originally wrote, Galadriel's age changes massively from a mere 1,322 solar years to 19,872 solar years by the end of the Years of the Trees, meaning she goes into the First Age nearly 20,000 years old. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, so I also consider the later draft from the 1950s (so time-wise, if not publication-wise) to be a new conception from an unreliable narrator that perhaps was devised by someone who wasn't an Elf.

Its conception of time just does not work well with the dates offered in Tolkien's earlier writings. I can't imagine it took the Elves 700 solar years to cross over to Middle-earth (those would be some lazy travel buddies, I can't even fathom it). 50 solar years just makes a lot more sense.

If Galadriel is then 1,322 by the end of the Years of the Trees, then she is 1,912 by the end of the First Age, which was 590 years long. The rings of power were forged in S.A. 1500, so we can then assume through the show that Galadriel is approximately somewhere around 3,412 years old in The Rings of Power. If we keep following that path of time, Galadriel is approximately 8,372 years old by the time the Fellowship reaches Lothlórien in the Third Age.

#tolkien meta #valian years #galadriel #timelines and things #helpful tips for writing perhaps #to consider if you dabble in the years of the trees #or even the first age or second age or beyond #the rings of power #rings of power #trop

[nelyoslegalteam]

I don’t know murdoc but I still want to know!! hit us with #7: what do they smell like?

black tea. bergamot. lavender. vanilla. maybe just a little bit of orange blossom.

... it's london fog. murdoc smells like london fog to me. specifically london fog made with lavender earl grey. i imagine he wouldn't use perfumes or scented oils or anything like that on himself - that's far too much sensory input - but he creates and blends brews of tea. so i imagine he smells like his craft, as one tends to do.

it helps not only that he likes the smell of tea, but that he always has tea on him, or at least in arm's reach. tea is comforting to him. tea scents are comforting, good sensory input. and you never know when you might need to brew up a nice, warm cup for someone who needs it.

so yeah lmao boy's got tea leaves in his pockets. at least he smells good kjdhfdskjsm.

and thank you so much for indulging me!!! since you've said you don't know him - murdoc is my hobbit bard player character in @potatoobsessed999's tolkienverse d&d campaign, the mirkwood campaign!! i've uh. talked about him quite a bit, if you want to check this out. or this. or this. x3

#thank you so much anon for sending me asks about my little guy i would kill and die for you ;w; #you have my bow and my sword and my axe #i just love my little guy a lot!!! #;ww; <3333333333 #spent entirely too long trying to figure out if there was a word for someone who like. comes up with different tea blends and like. #picks/dries the herbs themself. IN ADDITION to brewing it. #like murdoc Makes Teas. he makes blends that taste/smell like people and places he cares about. or pair w/ things they like. #he has a brew for himself & that's the one i think he smells like. #but lavender earl grey is my irl favorite and i associated him with it accidentally so now that's His Brew to me #even if that's horribly unoriginal of me #brb accidentally made myself crave lavender earl grey london fog while writing this gotta make it for myself now #mirkwood campaign #nelyo askbox

[wingingthenight]

what's your favourite bear and why? | how deeply did you dislike the valeska twins until i was like 'imagine not disliking them'? | favourite pokemon game? | a fandom/thing you wanna get into but can't? | quote? | number? | letter? | what is one thing you would refuse to eat even if you were starving (don't be boring. don't say a human) | most listened to song | most used emoji

ask mun anything!! || accepting!

what's your favourite bear and why?

grizzly bears with sun bears as a close second!! grizzly bears are the perfect amount of floofy and huggable and they like salmon as much as i do. sun bears however look so fucked up and i love that about them

how deeply did you dislike the valeska twins until i was like 'imagine not disliking them'?

i wanted to toss jerome out a window <3 i still do but now it's, like, affectionate, so good for him. i also wanted to shove jeremiah in a locker. that hasn't changed i just also want him to ruin bruce's life in a fun, sexy way :)

favourite pokemon game?

crystal!!!!!! the fact that it wasn't remade with gold and silver is my villain origin story.

a fandom/thing you wanna get into but can't?

i would love to get more into lotr/tolkienverse but i have Not had the attention span or brain power to get through reading everything i want to. one day,, it'll happen lol

quote?

i've been feeling insane again lately about sharp objects so one from there and i'll spare you my thesis length essay about it:

"was i good at caring for amma because of kindness? or did i like caring for amma because i have adora's sickness? i waver between the two, especially at night, when my skin begins to pulse.

lately, i've been leaning towards kindness."

number?

i've always been partial to the number 3!

letter?

upper case cursive L

what is one thing you would refuse to eat even if you were starving (don't be boring. don't say a human)

why would i say a human when many creatures have eyes and the texture thought makes me nauseous <3

most listened to song

according to spotify at the moment it's 'you don't know me (feat. regina spektor) by ben folds. which im pretty sure i listened to on repeat on the plane while drawing dick grayson so that checks out.

most used emoji

the pink double heart emoji 💕

#;munday #utlizing the cut to spare everyone's dashes lmao #thank you bestie <3 #;ooc

[ivycovehq]

welcome to ivy cove, boo! we can't wait to meet galadriel. please make sure you read through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours

 boo ) woah! was that GALADRIEL walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from TOLKIENVERSE. they’re IMMORTAL and live in RADIAN HILLS but watch out because they can be OVSESSIVE + ARROGANT but are actually LOYAL + KIND-HEARTED. despite them HAVING memories, you’ll always think of SWORD AND STEEL CLASHING, ARMOR OVER GOWNS, HER WORD IS HER BOND, when imagining them. / morfydd clark, she/her

#lotr rp #tolkein rp #multifandom rp #fandom rp #appless rp #ivycoveaccepted

[strawberry-selfships]

agjgkhhb I am so so so sad rn so im latching onto saruman for dear life

im thinkin abt like . the little things he’d do for me I guess

specifically like . i find the uruk-hai to be really scary esp with like how they yell and stuff so I imagine saruman reassuring me that the uruk-hai will never hurt me or do their yells in my presence and he will personally make sure of it himself that they never make me anxious wwgjhcgybhdfs

or like maybe if I was feeling especially down like how I am now he would make us some nice cups of mint tea and he would maybe read to me or let me infodump abt something I enjoy or maybe we could watch one of my favorite movies and if it’s one I know a ton about I could explain every detail to him of what’s going on and stuff bc I love to do that (I know you can’t do that in lotr but shh I do not careee I brought my dvds with me into the tolkienverse) just . stuff like that that he would do for me

#ghhhjhghg I do feel a bit better after typing that out and reading thru some posts in my emotional support tag #i love u saruman ;w; #loveposting #abt saruman

[miloren]

Read before you ask or submit anything!

What is this blog about? - As in the Subtitle, it's about Imagines, Headcanons, Prompts, and Plot-Bunnies about characters in the Tolkienverse.

"I like one of the imagines/headcanons etc. can I write a fic about it?" - YES! Please do! If you like, send me the link, so other people here can see it! ❤️

RULES FOR SUBMITTING:

Things that aren't allowed:

Bashing any character.

Submits that are racist, or insulting to anyone's sexuality, gender (this includes non-binary), disabilities, or mental illnesses.

Badmouthing other peoples fanon/headcanons

RPF and anything related. This blog is about the characters, not the actors/actresses, as amazing as they are.

Anything that has to do with the Amazon series.

Things that are allowed:

Smut

Reader-Inserts, Character x Character or single character submissions

Links to creations that were inspired by this blog

If you have any questions: Just ask me! :)

[siswritesyanderes]

about Rule One, do youuuuu perhaps have any thoughts on how close everyone in the cullen family would be with sadie once she joins them? and also what activities they'd like to do most with her?? ^_^

Most obviously, Alice and Jasper would be ecstatic to have her around, and they would have to get comfortable with sharing her with the rest of the family; knowing that Sadie is talking to someone else in another room would take some getting used to, and they'd both have to overcome their clinginess.

Nessie already adores her, and that would only continue once she finishes Lord of the Rings and continues looking to Sadie for fantasy/sci-fi recommendations. Sadie would become her window into both the highly-respected works, like those of Isaac Asimov and Ursula K Le Guin and Octavia Butler, and the less respected. (Not listing those, because it feels mean.) Sadie would casually mention Doctor Who and Nessie would just have to watch it, and Nessie quickly becomes a huge fan. (Basically, Nessie inherited her mother's nerdiness but not her genre preference.)

Just as a symptom of existing in the same house as Nessie and Sadie, the rest of the family gets into various shows, movies, and books to various degrees. Edward secretly reads everything Nessie is about to read, just to make sure there's nothing inappropriate in any of it, and gets surprisingly into the Tolkienverse and the Legacy of Orïsha series. Emmett watches Doctor Who with Sadie and Nessie and starts referencing it kind of a lot. Jacob already likes Star Wars and both Avatars; Rosalie finds that she likes Star Trek. (Rosalie knows at least a little about all of it, though, because Nessie will ask for hair styles she's seen in various shows and movies or imagined from book descriptions, so she'll show them to Rosalie with her power.) Jasper enjoys the works of Octavia Butler, and he and Sadie have a few sober conversations about Kindred. Bella remains staunchly loyal to the classics, but she does find she enjoys the Inkheart series, when Nessie asks her to read them to her at bedtime. This all culminates in the Cullens going to various fan conventions ("for Nessie"), some of them in costume. (One time, Sadie dressed as Uhura and Rosalie dressed as Seven of Nine. Nessie dressed as Elva, from Eragon, as she preferred to dress for high fantasy settings. Another time, Rosalie and Emmett were Thirteen and "Sexy Eleventh Doctor". Alice insists that they can't repeat costumes, so things grow progressively more imaginative and Esme for sure dresses as the TARDIS at some point.)

Like I mentioned in the other posts, various family members would designate Sadie as their conflict moderator, so Edward and Rosalie might run up to her, both ranting at the same time about something the other did, and she would, slightly amused, unwind their conflict and analyze why they're feeling the way they are and get a sense of what behaviors could be changed. At a point, she'd have done this so often that she would designate specific "office hours", outside of which they can't bombard her with their disagreement unless it's an emergency. (Jasper does something to annoy Emmett, and Emmett goes, "I'm gonna tell Sadie!" and Jasper smirks like, "It's 8:31.") There is honestly still a fair amount of "Sadie, I know it's outside of your office hours, but...", and a lot of times she'll still listen and offer advice, but sometimes she'll say, "Not right now. I want to finish what I'm doing. Come back a bit later."

Sadie's well-maintained moral code tends to keep her out of trouble, but her curiosity and Emmett's eagerness to just Do Stuff means they can really just go nuts, if left alone together. Sadie might wonder, "Can vampires do this?" or "What happens if a vampire does this?" and Emmett will go from zero to "Let's find out" in a millisecond. (He does not follow the scientific method, so Sadie has separate journals labeled "Shenanigans" to account for their time together.)

Carlisle and Esme immediately and not entirely consciously dub Sadie the good one, often telling the other kids to follow her example. If she does get into mischief with her new siblings, Carlisle and Esme have been known to completely ignore her role in the mischief and only chastise the others. Sadie might say something like, "It wasn't just Emmett; I was involved, too," but at that point Carlisle or Esme would point out that Sadie is taking responsibility for her actions and the other should learn to do that, as well. No one holds it against Sadie; it becomes both a joke and a known fact that she gets away with pretty much everything just by virtue of being a super decent person.

Bella and Sadie are pretty much comfortable with just existing parallel to each other; they might read different books in the same room in silence and consider it quality time. Or they might talk about their human lives and shared experiences from having grown up at around the same time. Sadie finds Bella fascinating and enjoys studying her seemingly-contradictory personality traits. Everyone is contradictory to some degree, but Bella seems especially hard to figure out.

This is getting long, so I'm going to stop here, lol. Hopefully more of the relationship dynamics between Sadie and the Cullens will be clear in Rule One, but if not, you can always send another ask! 😁

#rule one sadie #sadie lily gilder #rule one don't be afraid #twilight fanfiction

[serregon]

Húrin, Morwen and any of their children for the ask game

-@outofangband

under a cut for length

Húrin

Sexuality Headcanon: HoME that says he’s an “admirer of Felagund”, which kinda sounds like a euphemism for something not so straight. the whole family’s bi lol

A ship I have with said character: with Morwen. they’re one of my favorite canon couples in the Tolkienverse. their story is so tragic, and I can’t help but tear up every time I read their last scene. plus the short guy/tall girl dynamic is one of my favorite tropes for het ships.

A BROTP I have with said character: with Huor. they both give me wholesome jock vibes and I love it. he probably made a lot of jokes about how his little brother is like a foot and a half taller than him

A NOTP I have with said character: none bc the only ship I’ve seen with him is with Morwen

A random headcanon: he has a surprisingly really good singing voice. he tends to lead the drinking songs at the mead hall. he also sang lullabies to his kids. he never got to sing to Nienor oh no I made myself sad

General Opinion over said character: this man called satan a little bitch to his face, I love him. he’s an extremely tragic character, but also so badass for holding out for so long

Morwen

Sexuality Headcanon: bi and probably somewhere on the aromantic spectrum

A ship I have with said character: with Húrin

A BROTP I have with said character: with Aerin. we don’t get to know much about Aerin, but she seems pretty cool. I can see Aerin standing up for Morwen when she was accused of witchcraft

A NOTP I have with said character: none, I’ve only seen her shipped with Húrin and Aerin

A random headcanon: she has a morbid fascination with death. she used to wander the cemetery, finding a strange sense of solace among the graves. I feel like she could have been a mortician

General Opinion over said character: she’s an interesting character. the fact that she refused to go to Doriath for so long kinda frustrates me, but it’s a flaw that makes her seem more human

Túrin

Sexuality Headcanon: bi

A ship I have with said character: with Beleg. they’re my silm otp and I love them so much. their relationship just hits that perfect balance of softness and angst for me. though I also like him in a poly ship with both Finduilas and Gwindor

A BROTP I have with said character: with Nellas. I see her as a sort of big sister figure to Túrin and I like to imagine her guiding Túrin through the forests and teaching him about the world through the eyes of elves

A NOTP I have with said character: with Nienor, for obvious reasons. I get that it had to happen for tragedy reasons but like, ew. I try to avoid thinking about that part of the story as much as I can. I just really want happier AUs for them where they can just be normal siblings together

A random headcanon: he’s very touch starved. he says he hates being touched, he’s lying. he just really wants someone to play with his hair

General Opinion over said character: he’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot. he’s just a well written antihero and an interesting take on the classical tragic hero

Nienor

Sexuality Headcanon: bi

A ship I have with said character: with Mablung. I don’t know why this ship is so rare, it makes a lot of sense in the plot, they have the perfect set up for a tragic romance. I’ve also seen her shipped with Finduilas and Nellas and they’re cute ships too, I’m always down for femslash

A BROTP I have with said character: I just feel like her and Beleg would get along well if they ever met. I’m thinking about an au where she goes to Doriath as a child and she collects wildflowers for Beleg and he tells her all about their meaning in the language of flowers and their medicinal properties

A NOTP I have with said character: with Túrin

A random headcanon: she also comes back in Dagor Dagorath, and this time she gets to be the one to kill a reborn Glaurung. she’s like “I told you once and I’ll tell you again, the children of Húrin are not craven” and she bonks him with her axe

General Opinion over said character: THE biggest “deserved better” character in the legendarium. poor girl suffered so much. she’s also pretty badass, what with her pulling a Mulan and standing up to a dragon

#headcanons #túrin #niënor #húrin #morwen

[mismaeve]

The Gift

→ The Gift, Thranduil Oropherion x Fem!Elf Reader Word Count: 7.9k Warnings: angst, mentions of death and dead bodies, blood and slight gore, injury Prompt: "Have you no regrets?" Summary: Another war is slowly consuming Middle-Earth, and the Greenwood elves find themselves defending it against the evil forces. Taglist: @rainbowvamp @i-did-not-mean-to @wormsmith @lokineedshairgel @marvelschriss @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @blueberryrock @alldaysdreamers @heilith A/N: This is my own contribution to this month's writing challenge. I am super happy with how this turned out, and I am excited to be finally sharing this with you. I really hope you will enjoy it!

I pray you can forgive me for I should have waited.

The general slowly moved across the battleground, wrinkling her nose slightly at the sight of dead orc carcasses. Her eyes drifted to a couple of her soldiers piling up orcs to be burned. It wasn’t right, all this devastation and pain, all this death. Y/N’s footsteps grew slower until they came to a halt, and the general took a deep breath. The rancid air burned in her lungs and for a moment she felt sick to her stomach. The nature of war wasn’t lost on her yet to live through it was another matter entirely. Y/N allowed her mind to drift as her eyes wandered over the blood-soaked grounds. It saddened her greatly to see the lifeless bodies of her valiant soldiers among the corpses of orc filth. A misty veil fell upon her eyes as the elf general mourned her fallen kin. What a waste, what a gruesome waste this was. They didn’t belong here any more than she did, yet to march and defend Middle-Earth from everlasting darkness and evil had been their duty, and they had been called upon. And so, they had left the safety of Greenwood to venture South to engage the enemy on the East front.

A lone tear was working its way down Y/N’s pale cheek while she stood frozen, either unable or unwilling to move. We shouldn’t be here, my sweet. Many of her kin had fallen but not enough to weaken the company in her command. Still, it pained her greatly as her eyes moved from one fallen elf to another, making her heart ache unbearably. She knew each and every one of them personally, she knew their families and she had shared many a meal with them. They had been her friends, her family. Her sole responsibility was to keep them safe, to shield them from horrors such as war, yet it had been her to lead them here to their demise. They didn’t belong here, they shouldn’t be left here to rot among the dead ranks of their enemy, they deserved better. She owed them better, she owed them the same respect and dignity they had always treated her with.

“Redhedir,” Y/N called out softly to the young elf soldier who was currently overseeing the build of another corpse pile to be burned. “My lady?” the dark-haired elf was quick to make his way over to where she was standing.

“Gather however many you need to cover the ground in search of our fallen. I want all of them brought home to Greenwood to be buried with dignity and love,” the general’s voice was gentle and calm, even though rage was fuming inside her. As most elves, she was quite accomplished at keeping her composure, so much so that even her king saw attempting to read her as a challenge at times. She was excellent at masking her thoughts and emotions whenever she wished for them to remain private. Yet now she found herself struggling to do so, the wasted lives of her people weighing her down and shooting sparks to an already burning anger. “Of course,” Redhedir offered her a curt nod before hurrying off. Y/N’s gaze went back to the freshly made heap of orcs awaiting to be set afire. The general allowed herself to scoff quietly under her breath, it was more than this filth deserved. Even leaving them on the ground to rot was too good for them. Y/N knew it was her grief and anger talking now, just as she knew that they would double back eventually to clear the fields of all signs of war and death. It was against their nature to let something as foul as rotting orc flesh to stain and spoil the ground they walked on and the fields which brought them sustenance.

We nurture and we preserve, that is what we are tasked with. We do not paint this land red lightly, remember that always.

The general cast one last glance over the crimson spotted field littered with corpses before turning on her heel and heading towards the edge of the forest. Her mare was stood beneath the trees just on the outskirts of the woods. At the sight of her master approaching, the mare’s dark nostrils flared, and the animal gave a low neigh, as if to greet her master upon her return. “Elenath mellonen,” Y/N greeted her loyal companion, her hand going to stroke the mare’s long and muscular neck. She was a dark dapple-grey, thus earning her the name “all the stars of heaven” because of the thousand small white and light grey spots that covered her otherwise dark flanks and shoulders, and the length of her back. Elenath was a unique beauty but much like her master, she was also highly spirited and at times temperamental. Y/N hummed an ancient Elvish lullaby to soothe her companion while her fingers rubbed and massaged the animal’s neck, reaching higher and higher until they intertwined with Elenath’s long and dark mane.

“Do you miss our home too?” Y/N murmured as her own heart filled with horrible longing. They had marched from the safety and comfort of Greenwood months ago, yet the end of this war was nowhere near in sight. The Elvish general leaned her forehead against her mare’s shoulder, allowing her mind to drift back to home. She thought about the Great Hall, always filled with laughter and cheerful banter while everyone helped themselves to whatever delicious dish was being served. Y/N longed for the illuminated pathways weaving throughout the forest of their homeland, she longed for the sounds of birds, perching on high and low branches just outside her windows, gifting her with the privilege of their songs. She longed for the intricate hallways, so beautifully and masterfully crafted. But most of all, she longed for her husband and his touch, their blissful nights together when they would be alone in their chambers. What would he say if he knew? Y/N couldn’t help but send a prayer to the Valar that this war soon come to an end for she has been deprived of her husband’s love for far too long. There were no words, neither in Westron or Elvish, nor ancient Dwarvish, to describe the longing Y/N felt for her husband. At times it became utterly unbearable, making the general struggle to even fill her lungs with air. It felt as if her body was slowly dying without the touch of her king, her husband, her lover. She was a withering flower on a blood-soaked field, desperately trying to survive against all odds.

“Hiril nîn!” just as Y/N was about to lose herself to her torment and longing, Morfindaer’s urgent call beckoned her back to this world. She untangled her fingers from Elenath’s mane and watched as the young elf was dismounting his charger. He looked rather flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he hastily approached his queen. “Catch your breath, Morfindaer,” she spoke to the young elf soldier who gratefully bowed his head and allowed himself a moment to regain his composure. “Our scouts have sighted the king’s forces, they’re setting up camp just over that ridge over there,” Y/N’s eyes followed Morfindaer’s pointed finger to the ridge not too far from where they were located now. A warm sensation began like a soft and pleasant stream, taking course through her veins and invigorating her entire being just at the mere thought of seeing her beloved again after all these months. Perhaps it was time. Y/N closed her eyes as a hopeful smile was slowly beginning to decorate her features. As the Elvish queen opened her mouth to voice her joy over this happily unexpected news, she was interrupted by the sound of their horn signaling the return of their riders. A company of five were galloping towards their queen and general, their horses’ hooves unearthing dirt in all directions in their wake. They were making full haste towards her, making Y/N wonder if something had happened. Perhaps their scouts had sighted more orc filth in their vicinity but surely, they would have sounded the horn to indicate that the enemy was near, and they ought to get ready. Or perhaps they were rushing to bring her the news of something befalling her husband, their king. As soon as that dreadful thought entered her mind, Y/N forced it out. She would not entertain any such grim notions unless she knew for certain.

“My lady, we bring word from lord Thranduil. We are to unite our forces at their encampment as soon as possible,” Calemen, the second oldest of the five riders informed her upon their arrival. Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, utter relief washing over her bones and flesh alike. He had sent for them, for her. Unknowingly so, he has sent for you as well. “Then we must not keep our king waiting,” when she spoke, she was the same strong and capable general she had been only moments ago when her swords had slashed through orc ranks like they were nothing. As Y/N took hold of Elenath’s reins and moved to mount her, a very secret yet happy tear was slowly running its course down her cheek. Her soul would no longer be withering with longing, a breath of life was so near she could almost taste it. Soon, my darling. Tonight.

“Have our wounded mounted on horses for the journey. Prepare the wagons, we will bring our dead with us for now,” Y/N instructed from her horse as she adjusted her seat.

“Morfindaer, gather our forces, we are to march as soon as the wagons are loaded and horses ready,” her voice sounded her orders in a gentle yet subtly stern manner. The dark-haired elf offered her a quick nod before mounting his horse to go forward her orders to the rest of their remaining host. It was very trying to maintain a calm exterior when all Y/N could feel was utter excitement. Surely the others felt similarly, after all, Thranduil’s company consisted of their friends and brothers, fathers and sons. Soon, all of them would be reunited, a thought which filled the general’s heart and soul with warmth, for they were finally presented with a ray of light in their otherwise never-ending darkness and gloom.

With a watchful eye, Y/N followed the movements of her host, readying their horses and helping the wounded soldiers mount them. It pained her to see the pain written all over their features as they clutched at their wounds, blood running through their fingers and staining their neatly polished armour. She wished she could relieve their pain, she wished she could do more for them. For you. Y/N wished she could simply bring all her people home to Greenwood where they would remain safe, away from all this terror and in the hands of their skilled healers. Some of them had followed them from home, to tend to their wounded yet not enough, and their supplies were slowly beginning to run short. “Calemen, is there any word from lord Elrond?” Y/N asked the blonde elf mounted on his horse beside her, the both of them overseeing the host preparing to march. “Not as far as I know, hiril nîn,” there was sadness in his eyes as they found hers. He didn’t say but Y/N was sure he knew why she would inquire about lord Elrond. Elrond was a gifted and an accomplished healer, having taught the art of healing to many of the Rivendell elves. Elves that they now sorely needed. “There might be news of him at the camp,” Y/N suggested in hopes of reassuring the elf next to her. “Shall I ride ahead and find out, my lady?” Calemen asked, grasping the reins more firmly in his hands, ready to hurry off as soon as told. Y/N shook her head gently, offering the eager elf rider a soft smile. “No, that won’t be necessary,” Calemen nodded at her words and Y/N saw his hands relax, the previously tightly held reins now resting loosely in his long and slim fingers.

It wasn’t long before the field before her eyes was cleared of the deceased elves, their bodies carefully and gently put in wagons to be brought with them to their king. Y/N’s eyes darkened as she cast them over the remains of the enemy’s army. Where the foul creatures had cut down one of hers, her courageous warriors had cut down many a tenfold of theirs until every last orc had been slain. And the price they had paid for this victory, much like the one before and the one before that, was laying in their horse-drawn wagons. None of their triumphs had been entirely sweet, all of them bittersweet at best. Y/N paid her last respects to the place where many of her subjects had fallen and spilled their life’s blood in the name of everlasting peace, before nudging her mare forward with the gentle press of her heels. They would march in formation, Y/N at the helm of her army followed by a handful of those second in command closely behind her. She had chosen to have the wagons follow before the fighting soldiers, for she believed they deserved the honour of being at the head of their host for the invaluable sacrifice they had made in her name. It was only behind the wagons carrying their dead, that the actual host would follow. Her wounded would be in the middle of their formation surrounded by the able and the strong for protection in case they had a run in with the enemy whilst making their way around the mountain ridge. As their company began moving, the elf general sent yet another silent prayer to the Valar. Make it so that we may make our journey safely in peace for much that was dear we have lost already. ㅤ

As the first stars of evening rose high in the light-pink sky, Y/N ordered her host to a halt. They had been on the move for the better part of the day, and now that the light was slowly fading, it was time for them to rest. Although the wounded elves carried brave faces, Y/N sensed the state of pain and discomfort they were in. They needed tending, food and water, and a moment’s rest before they pressed further on towards Thranduil’s camp. “Make sure the wounded are tended and fed,” Y/N kept her voice low when giving her orders to the elves flanking her on both sides. Whether it was the waning light or a sense of foreboding, she could not tell, but she knew she did not wish to attract any more attention to their being here than they already had. The general’s eyes continuously scanned their surroundings, wanting to memorise every detail in case her host had to respond to an assault or flee from one they could not fend off. As the last light of day vanished from sight and darkness began its slow and menacing descent on the Elvish queen and her host, everything around them got eerily quiet. “Are we to set up camp, hiril nîn?” Calemen’s voice seemed several leagues away, the uncanny silence having a deafening effect on her senses. “Lau,” Y/N shook her head and closed her eyes. “My lady-,” Calemen started but was immediately silenced by his queen. “Shhhh,” she needed to listen, something felt strangely amiss. Y/N knew something was wrong or about to go wrong. As hard as she tried to listen, she couldn’t hear a thing save for the muffled sounds in the background made by her people. Something is terribly wrong. There were no signs of birds or any other animals for that matter. It felt like everything all of a sudden had frozen still. Too still to her liking. The longer she listened, the more uneasy she became, her body signalling her to remain alert. Something is coming. Y/N felt the cool evening breeze in her hair and on her skin, breathing it in, the general grimaced in distaste. The air bore a foul smell that burned like fire inside her lungs. Her heart sunk for she knew this particular scent rather well, it had become their constant companion, following them everywhere they went. The smell of death and destruction. While remaining in her trance-like state, Y/N felt her fingers reach for her sword. I will keep you safe.

Her eyes flew open at the sound of their horns somewhere in the near distance. Their scouts were signalling them that they had spotted their enemy. Soon after the first blast, more joined in, meaning only one thing. They were surrounded and the enemy was closing in on them like a hungry predator ready to tear them apart and devour their flesh. As if to announce their arrival, the air filled with the malicious howls of wargs. “Quickly, have the wagons pulled inside the forest for concealment, with any luck they won’t go looking there if we keep them occupied here,” Y/N was quick to give her orders, there was no time to be wasted, not when they were caught off guard in the dark. “What of the wounded? They are in no state to fight,” Calemen’s voice gave away his fear. Not for himself, not of dying but his fear for those who had been left weak and vulnerable. “Form ranks around our wounded!” Y/N’s commanding voice sounded all around them, making her soldiers gather around swiftly.

“Ready your bows!” the general bellowed her order and watched as her skilled archers sprinted to their positions. While Y/N’s host formed their lines and came together in formation, Elenath was getting restless, unable to stay still the mare was pawing the ground. It was meaningless to even attempt calming her now, Y/N was convinced the intelligent creature between her legs knew she would soon charge at enemy lines.

They could hear the shrieks and cries of orcs rushing towards them. Rushing to their death, the general thought in defiance as they waited for the confrontation, her archers ready to rain fire upon the evil creatures nearing them. There will be no mercy for the wicked. Soon the night would be filled with the clash of swords and cries of agony. Even though this could very well be the night of her demise, Y/N felt strangely calm. Her heart wasn’t racing, her breath was steady. The Elvenqueen was at the head of her army, ready and determined to lead her people to another victory. In the name of Greenwood and their king, they will hold their ground. Give me strength to shield us from this evil.

“Hold the lines,” her voice carried her strength and power when she addressed her warriors for one last time before all mayhem broke loose.

“Protect our weak,” Y/N continued, her eyes slowly and steadily moving from one elf soldier to another, engraving their faces into her heart should this night claim any of their lives. “No prisoners,” her tone took to a more threatening note as if to emphasise her message. “We may be surrounded and at a disadvantage, but we will endure,” the general’s voice rose as her fingers clutched the hilt of her sword, pulling it from its sheath and raising it high above her. “Send these creatures back to hell!” Y/N’s voice rumbled into the night at the same time as Elenath reared up on her hind legs pawing the air. The good will prevail tonight.

“Leithio i phillin!” she shouted and pointed her sword in the direction of their enemy. ㅤ

The booming roar of the mountain troll shattered the night like thunder. It pierced Y/N’s ears making the elf wince in pain. Shooting a quick glance over the field, she soon saw that their numbers were dwindling rapidly, they would not be able to fend off an assault of this magnitude. The orcs were mounted on wargs with several grown mountain trolls amongst their ranks. It was an uphill battle they were fighting, and they were losing. They needed aid but she didn’t dare send a rider out to Thranduil’s camp to ask for reinforcements, it was too risky. It was likely that the lone rider would be run down by wargs and torn to pieces. Another thundering roar brought her attention back to the battle and just in time as the queen immediately noticed a warg charging towards her, mouth open with baring teeth, ready to swallow her whole and send her to the darkest pit of hell. She gripped the hilt of her sword tighter just as the overgrown wolf leaped towards her, crashing into her and Elenath like a tumbling wall of stone. Elenath could not withstand the force with which they were struck, making the mare and rider alike go down. Y/N had driven her sword into the warg’s thick skull as they had collided, the beast’s heavy body landing on top of her as she struck ground. There was a crack and instant pain, sending an agonising shockwave throughout her body. No. Please. She struggled to catch her breath, the impact of the fall with the added dead weight on top of her, knocking the air out of her chest. Y/N coughed and grimaced in pain, a trickle of blood emerging from the corner of her lips. She was almost positive that she had broken at least one rib, most likely more than one. The general gritted her teeth and used all the strength she could muster and pushed the foul-smelling creature off her. Freeing herself of the heavy weight at last made her groan in pain but at the very least, she could finally breathe again. Breathe. Taking a deep breath that filled her lungs and made her ribcage scream in protest, Y/N carefully rolled on her side. The elf closed her eyes and braced herself for the pain which was to come should she try to get back on her feet. The air was thick with sounds of steel clashing with steel, arrows flying in all directions, the low and threatening growls of the wargs and roars of the trolls. She could hardly hear or sense her people; the havoc of this place was overwhelming and disrupting. With another pained groan Y/N got on all fours, her bruised insides making her cough up blood. No. Do not make it so, the general prayed in silence.

There was fighting all around her, she was bound to force herself up lest she be killed. Her insides were pulsating with pain, coming in waves, making her inhale sharply. As if sensing her master’s state, Elenath was soon by her side once again, giving Y/N a gentle nudge with her muzzle. “I’m alright, we’re alright,” the Elvenqueen whispered with a sad smile before clenching her jaw as another wave of pain overtook her. Elenath gave a low neigh before giving Y/N another nudge, this time more urgently. As her pain finally subsided enough for her to sense her immediate surroundings, she could feel someone, or something, approach her. Her hand reached for her blade which lay imbedded in the slain warg’s skull, her fingers wrapping around the hilt in time as the footsteps grew nearer. She would not give the enemy the satisfaction of killing her while she was down. The queen knew it was going to hurt, it would be agonising even but she was determined to keep on fighting until her last breath. I pray you can forgive me. The steps were nearly upon her now, an unknown fiend looming over her like a dark cloud, savouring the moment before striking her down. All her muscles tensed as she swiftly lifted her sword, swinging it fiercely at the unknown assailant Y/N got back on her feet with a feral cry. Steel met steel as pale eyes met hers. How could it be? Before she could utter a single word, let alone manage a respectful greeting of her king, Thranduil had withdrawn his sword and closed the small distance between them. “You’re hurt,” the worry in his voice was accompanied by the sorrowful look in his eyes. “Aran nîn, forgive me, I did not see-,” Y/N began to apologise but was unceremoniously cut off by her king. “Where are you hurt, meleth nîn?” Thranduil sheathed both his swords and once his hands were free, they went to cup her face, his eyes searching her face intently. “There’s no time for this now, we must…,” her voice trailed off as she finally noticed her husband’s host aiding hers, cutting down enemy ranks left and right. It appeared that they had been rescued and pulled from their impending doom. “Do you see? The battle is all but won,” his voice was reassuring and calm, “Now, you must tell me where it is you’re hurt,” he asked her in a more demanding tone. Does he sense it? “It is nothing, likely a couple of bruised ribs is all,” Y/N tried her best to hide the severity of her injuries, she did not want to add more worry to his already long list of troubles. “If I know my wife, then I know that her version of bruised ribs is most likely fractured or even broken,” he frowned at her through his bushy eyebrows, “Tell me, which of the two is it?” she could not hold his gaze any longer, casting her eyes down she let a yielding sigh escape her lips. Lying to her husband would be meaningless, Thranduil would see through it as easily as one sees through glass.

“The latter,” Y/N admitted as her eyes found his again.

ㅤ Thranduil had begged her to ride with him on his elk, but Y/N would not have any of it. Stubborn as she was, she gave her king no choice but to agree to her riding Elenath to his encampment. She had let him help her mount her mare but that had been all the aid she had been willing to accept for the time being. As his wife, she longed for his touch but for now it was completely out of the question, at least until she had seen one of the healers. We’re alright, she hoped against hope that the Valar had heard her prayers. Y/N tried to keep her breathing as shallow as possible, mainly because drawing deep breaths caused excruciating agony. Her breastplate felt too tight, making it that much harder to breathe properly. Her ears were ringing and the taste of blood in her mouth was making her sick. But she would show none of it, not when so many of her people had fallen, not when so many of them were in worse conditions than she was. “Are you certain you can ride on your own, meleth nîn?” Thranduil’s voice carried the worry he must have been feeling. Y/N turned her head and mustered up a smile before giving her king a nod.

“It’s not my broken ribs that pain me,” her voice sounded mournful as she spoke her truth to her king. Her eyes drifted from Thranduil’s as she took in the gravity of what had happened. Once again Y/N was facing a field covered in corpses. From what she could tell, nearly a third of her host was gone. She found that Thranduil coming to their aid and helping them to victory meant very little to her now. Grateful as she was to be alive and whole, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the sorrow and grief this victory had brought her. She wasn’t sure for how much longer she could go on, each day bringing more death with it, each night accompanied by more suffering. Her heart could not bear it. This isn’t the life I wished for you. “You were caught unawares, there was nothing to be done,” when he spoke, his voice appeared to be closer than it previously had. Turning to face him, Y/N saw that his elk was right next to Elenath, towering over her like a giant beast. “It doesn’t make it right,” Y/N responded quietly while shaking her head lightly. “None of this is right yet such is the nature of war,” Thranduil’s attempts to comfort her did very little, the guilt she was feeling was too overwhelming. “We brought them here, we asked them to fight, to die and for what?” Y/N felt her hold on her emotions weaken. She was too worn out, she could feel it in her bones, in every part of her being. “We have suffered an immeasurable loss, it is only natural that you would grieve,” the king reached over and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze, “But do not let your regrets rule your heart and mind, we are only doing what is right,” he reminded her softly. “And you, aran nîn, have you no regrets?” Y/N asked him as her eyes found his light blue-hazel ones. His expression softened as his gaze held hers, his pale hues unveiling the hidden truth. Suddenly, the great king of the Woodland realm bore a look of despair, making Y/N regret her silly question. Was she so distraught that she had lost all her common sense? “You need only look around to see my regrets, meleth, they are as plain as day,” he noted dismally. She hated herself for asking, she hated to see her beloved in such grave pain, she hated this war above all else. They would be mourning their fallen until the end of days by the gruesome looks of it. Yet there was hope, she bore it inside her still. Their hope. ㅤ

Thranduil had not pressed the issue of Y/N being seen by their best healer immediately upon their arrival at his encampment, for which she had been grateful. Until their wounded had been attended by their healers, given food and water, and sheltered in tents and larger pavilions, there would be no talk or mention of Y/N seeing a healer. There had been plenty to do for both rulers before they could retire to their shared tent. It was only when the bustling noises within their camp had begun to settle down, that the king and queen finally deemed fit to seek the solace of their private pavilion. “Allow me to help you out of your armour before I send for Nestor,” it took him only two large strides before he was right next to her, his fingers going to work on undoing the clasps attaching her cape to her shoulders before moving on to her breastplate. Being attended to by Nestor while Thranduil was in the tent was out of the question, not when he was unaware of her current condition. She would have to come up with a reason, an excuse to leave their tent. As soon as her husband had removed her breastplate, a shockwave of pain exploded inside her, her injuries appearing to be worse than she had thought. Much to her dismay, she couldn’t hinder the low groan that had formed in the back of her throat, making her husband stop what he was doing, and go around her to face her.

“You’re in pain,” he said mournfully, a deep sadness taking to his pale eyes as he ran them over her face. Y/N forced a weak smile as her palm found his smooth cheek, her thumb caressing it softly.

“You need to see Nestor right away, meleth nîn,” the king whispered as his hand went to his cheek to take hers, giving it a gentle squeeze before pressing their intertwined fingers to his chest. He was right, she needed a healer. She felt it could wait no longer lest she risked the unspeakable.

“I would much rather see Rîleth, she has been wonderful with caring for my company,” Y/N murmured softly, her eyes not leaving his. Thranduil watched her for a moment but didn’t question her choice. “Ethirdaer!” he raised his voice slightly so their guards would hear. Almost instantly, her husband’s guard entered their tent and bowed respectfully. “My lord, my lady,” the veteran guard addressed them.

“Send for Rîleth with all haste,” Thranduil ordered. With a quick nod of his head, the elven guard left their tent.

“Thank you,” Y/N said gratefully after Thranduil had helped her out of the rest of her armour, leaving her in her tunic and wool breeches. “I do not understand what is taking them so long,” he grumbled under his breath as he helped Y/N take a seat on his armchair. Her pain had subsided some but not enough to allow her to move freely and without discomfort. Thranduil would easily take notice of her hurt even despite her best efforts to hide it.

“Plenty of our people need tending, my love, we must be patient,” Y/N reminded him softly. She knew he was feeling restless and helpless because it was her who had been hurt, he really couldn’t stand the sight of his beloved in pain and discomfort. The absence of his reply told her he knew she was right. We are selfless, our people come first, remember that always.

“I must confess, sometimes I forget how selfless your heart is, my queen,” he whispered as he got down on his knee before her, taking both her hands in his, “But I refuse to let it take you from me,” he mumbled quietly against her skin before planting a tender kiss on her knuckles.

“There isn’t a force strong or powerful enough in this realm, to take me away from you,” Y/N reassured her husband. “We are not invincible, meleth, I will not have you perish defending this accursed land,” when he lifted his head to find her face, his expression was somber, his fear of losing her plain in his eyes. “What is this talk, my king?” Y/N asked, pulling her right hand from his she placed it on the side of his head, her fingers moving into his silken hair, “Was it not you who once claimed you pitied our enemy, for they had to fend off my swords?” “Your skill is unmatched, my queen, much like your accomplishments as the general of our armies,” he began slowly, leaning into her touch, “yet none of it should come at the price of your life.” Y/N was certain they wouldn’t be having this conversation at all had she not been wounded. It had been the first time her husband had seen her fall victim to injury, making him now ponder his fears out loud. She fought the urge to say that for as long as they ruled together, they would go to war together as well, for they were equals in all aspects. “I understand your fears, aran nîn, for I have my own of losing you,” she whispered tenderly as her fingers continued playing with Thranduil’s long strands of golden hair. “Should I come to suffer the day where I lost you, my heart would go with you, leaving but an empty shell and aching soul to walk this world without you,” Thranduil’s eyes closed at her words, as if they pained him somehow. “Then your heart must be a mirror of mine,” his words were barely audible, the tone of their conversation growing heavier still yet they had to accept it for what it was – the sincere truth. They had been husband and wife for centuries, it wasn’t long by any Elvish standards, yet their love for each other had grown during their time together. There were no more words left to say now, they had voiced their fears along with their ever-growing love for each other. Despite the screaming protests of her wounded insides, Y/N leaned down to find Thranduil’s lips in a gentle kiss which sent a soothing current throughout her entire body. Her discomfort eased significantly as their kiss began to grow, bringing to surface their need for each other, reminding them of how long they had been apart and denied each other’s touch. Unfortunately, their private moment was interrupted by Rîleth’s polite clearing of her throat. “My lord, my lady,” she greeted them with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her delicate lips.

Neither Y/N nor Rîleth had missed the annoyed glance that Thranduil had quickly shot at the healer upon her arrival. Once the king of the Woodland realm remembered why he had sent for Rîleth in the first place, his expression softened, and he offered the healer a respectful nod of his head. The elf healer had only shaken her head in mild amusement before turning her attention to her queen. “My lady, how may I be of service?” Rîleth asked tentatively, her green eyes quickly going to Thranduil before finding Y/N’s again, a questioning look on her features. Y/N knew instantly what the healer meant and gave a very subtle shake of her head. “Perhaps before we begin, if it would please my lord, could we have the room to ourselves?” Rîleth’s sudden question caused the king to raise his dark eyebrows in question. “I beg your pardon?” his demeanour changed instantly, he almost looked insulted by her question. Y/N suspected that the healer’s request had seemed absurd to him, if not downright disrespectful. “I will not be dismissed as some-,” the king began, his voice growing icier with every word until the queen interrupted him, her words bringing his attention to her. “Aran nîn, she is not trying to dismiss you,” Y/N started slowly, careful to hide the true intentions of Rîleth requesting to be left alone with her, “I promised her advice on certain matters of the heart regarding one of your guards, I’m sure you understand,” she finished with a smile, her eyes going to the healer who thankfully understood what Y/N was doing, and gave a shy nod. “Matters of the…,” Thranduil mumbled before clearing his throat and straightening himself out.

“Of course,” he nodded before taking Y/N’s hand in his and kissing the top of it. “I will give you your privacy while I go check on our supper,” the queen offered her husband a grateful smile before he turned to leave them to their matters of the heart. ㅤ

“Forgive me, I couldn’t think of anything else,” Y/N went to apologise as soon as she was sure Thranduil was out of earshot. Rîleth shook her head in amusement as she approached the queen. “Do not worry, it is unlikely that the king will remember any of this once you bestow your greatest gift on him,” the healer’s voice was gentle and mildly soothing. Even her mere presence carried a certain calm with it. Y/N’s eyes went to her stomach before finding Rîleth’s again in a questioning manner. “And is there still a gift to bestow?” her words were a whisper, it was difficult for her to voice her question, and more difficult still to await its answer. The smile on the healer’s face turned upside down as she quickly got on her knees before her queen, her hands going to Y/N’s belly. “Did something happen?” Rîleth whispered as her hands began feeling the queen’s stomach. “I took a tumble and got crushed by the dead weight of a warg,” Y/N explained to the healer while she continued to examine her.

“Henion,” Rîleth nodded thoughtfully as her hands proceeded to work. Y/N was watching the healer elf, anxiously awaiting the final verdict on her gift to Thranduil. The queen had decided to have an elfling shortly before they had been called upon to defend Middle-Earth, and there had been no suitable time to tell her husband that he was going to be a father at last. They had been so taken with each other at first, Thranduil and her, that they had agreed to wait with forming a family. It was only rather recently that they both had talked about how wonderful it would be to have a young one running around and about their kingdom. Y/N grimaced in pain as Rîleth’s fingers came too close to her ribcage, disturbing her broken bones, making her instantly wish she had waited even longer. I couldn’t have known, she thought to herself, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. “I am sorry, rîan nîn,” Rîleth sounded apologetic as her fingers immediately withdrew from Y/N’s belly, “May I have a listen?” she asked the queen quietly, to which Y/N gave an affirmative nod before closing her eyes. Soon she would receive either the greatest news of her entire life, or the most devastating. The queen held her breath as Rîleth lifted her tunic and pressed her ear to her stomach. Hot tears were paving her cheeks as she continuously prayed to the Valar that her little elfling was unhurt. She could not tell how long the healer was listening to her stomach, her expert hearing waiting to hear any signs of life. At last, she could feel Rîleth lift her head, opening her eyes again, Y/N saw that the healer was smiling brightly. “Your little one is alright, my lady,” the healers words made the queen release a relieved gasp which soon turned into outright sobs. Each new sob brought with it a wave of pain from her broken bones, but Y/N did not care, her little elfling was unharmed and well. Her hands went to her belly, stroking it gently while tears fell from her cheeks. She thanked the Valar that they had heard and granted her prayers, vowing to tell her husband as soon as he returned. ㅤ

When Thranduil returned, he found his queen freshly bathed and her wounds tended. Y/N was comfortably bundled up in her evening robes as she sat in her chair waiting for her husband.

“How do you feel, my beloved?” he went to her at once, his eyes casting an examining glance over her frame. Y/N set down the cup of herbal draught Rîleth had made for her pain on the wooden table next to her chair, and slowly got up on her feet. “Much better, meleth nîn,” she assured her husband as she moved to embrace him. His arms went around her, and he gently pulled her closer to his chest, still mindful of the injuries she bore. Y/N went to rest her head in the crook of Thranduil’s neck, breathing him in she closed her eyes. He smelled like home, like the vast and lush forest which was their kingdom, he smelled of fresh wood and wildflowers. “I am relieved to hear that,” he murmured into her hair before moving to rest his head on top of hers. Y/N stayed in her husband’s embrace, relishing being able to be close to him at last after months of being separated by this cursed war.

“There is something I have been meaning to tell you,” the queen spoke softly as she broke their embrace. Thranduil’s face still bore the signs of being relieved at his beloved feeling better when her eyes caught his pale ones.

“Oh?” his fingers went to move up and the down the lengths of her arms while he waited for Y/N to share her wonderful news with him.

“Do you recall questioning the purpose of defending this, as you so eloquently had put, accursed land?” she asked him with a tilted head, raising her eyebrow she watched the king grow thoughtful. “Yes, go on,” Thranduil nodded after a moment.

“As luck would have it, I am about to provide you with one,” Y/N cast her eyes down to her belly before finding his eyes again, a warm and loving smile lifting the corners of her lips. Thranduil glanced to her stomach as well before his eyes found hers again. His eyebrows were slowly furrowing in confusion until finally realisation hit him, and his eyes grew wider. “Are you-?” Thranduil’s eyes went to her belly once again where they lingered for a moment. He was perfectly still, it seemed he was even holding his breath, his pale eyes intently focused on her stomach. “Yes, meleth nîn,” her words made his eyes find hers again. Watching her husband’s features melt and mould into a singular expression of pure joy, made her heart fill with so much warmth and happiness, she feared she might just burst. When Thranduil smiled, it reached his eyes, making them sparkle with delight. He swiftly closed the space between them, his hands going to cup Y/N’s face. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before moving to plant a tender kiss on both of her cheeks and lips. “When?” his excited state was making him appear to be out of breath, his chest was rising and falling more rapidly now. “Shortly before we marched, if I had known-,” she wanted to tell him that she would have waited, that she would not have risked it while they were off at war, but Thranduil cut her off. “Shh, my darling, none of it matters now,” he reassured her before planting another soft kiss on Y/N’s lips, “All that matters is the life you carry inside of you,” he murmured before he moved his hands and carefully placed his palms to rest on her stomach. The queen smiled warmly at the sight of her husband’s glee, there wasn’t a single worry on his features, the dreary clouds had vanished from his bright eyes, and they finally shined with hope. “I’m to become a father, a dream I dared not dream while forced to endure this inferno of flames and death,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers, his palms remaining where they were, on her belly which carried his child.

“Are you pleased, my husband?” Y/N asked quietly, her hand going to Thranduil’s cheek. “Pleased?” he breathed out before chuckling lowly under his breath, “Darling, this is the greatest gift you could have ever bestowed upon me,” he whispered in a state that was near euphoric. Y/N felt tears of happiness building at the corners of her eyes, tears of utmost joy and overwhelming glee were taking control of her body and spirit. She almost felt guilty of being this happy when there was so much death and destruction around them. But to see her king be besides himself with joy shoved her guilt aside and made way for more delight, it meant the world to her to witness his spirits be lifted.

Y/N watched as Thranduil got on his knees before her and carefully, as if not to hurt her or the elfling inside her, pressed his face to her belly. The queen’s hands went to rest on his shoulders as her king kissed the fabric of her robes where her stomach was. “My little leaf, it’s your ada,” Thranduil’s voice broke half-way, the king being overwhelmed with the emotion of this intimate moment. When he glanced up at his wife, there were tears in his blue-hazel eyes. “I ant lîn vîr vin faer nîn,” he whispered to Y/N as a single tear was making its way down his pale cheek.

“Gi melin,” the queen murmured lovingly making the smile on Thranduil’s face grow even wider. “I love you too, my wife,” he breathed out as he quickly got back up on his feet, his palms going to cup her face once more as his lips met hers with passion so fierce and fiery it could set their entire kingdom ablaze.

ㅤ

Glossary:

Mellonen – my friend

Hiril nîn – my lady

Lau – No (no indeed not, on the contrary)

Leithio i phillin – release your arrows

Aran nîn – my king

Meleth nîn – my love

Henion – I understand

Rîan nîn – my queen (rîan – queen/crowned lady)

Ada – father (dad)

I ant lîn vîr vin faer nîn – I shall treasure your gift in my heart/ your gift is a treasure to my soul

Gi melin – I love you (informal)

#thranduil #thranduil oropherion #thranduil x reader #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x you #the hobbit au #tolkienverse #the king of mirkwood #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil imagine #tolkien writing challenge #king thranduil #thranduil fic #tolkien

[starlightstevie]

fics rec / march 2020

And I’m back with another fic rec! Here’s my list of favourites from the last month - hope you guys enjoy these, and that they give you a boost in this weird time! Stay safe x (* is smut)

Marvel

Thor

saeta by @dirtychocolatechai​ Thor takes care of you on your period with the help of his ‘sparkles’.

*exes and o’s by @dirtychocolatechai If you rated the current predicament you find yourself in on a scale of 1 to Sinfully Wrong, it’d be a solid 20 because of how far off the grid of okay it is. Lusting after your friend’s stupidly attractive dummy thicc ex is one of the biggest cliches better left in Hollywood. Yet here you are...

headcannon: body shots with Thor by @thorfanficwriter​

Bucky

*Reassurance by @nano--raptor​ Bucky needs some reassurance after waking up in a panic in the middle of the night. 

*Webcam by @star-spangledstud​ With one finger, you cleaned up your lip gloss, removing it from the edge of your lower lip before tousling your hair to give it more volume. You straightened out your dress next, blushing to yourself when you thought of what you wore underneath. Bucky had no idea what was coming to him...

Steve

*Drowned in Oxygen by @tropicalcap​ You and Steve talk about kids. Or, well, you try to talk about kids. 

Loki

I Think He Knows by @revengingbarnes​ You’re suspicious that Loki can read your mind so you decide to test that theory.

Tolkienverse

Kíli

Hands are Cold by @lotr-hobbit-imagines​ A freezing cold Y/N struggles to get to sleep until a certain dwarven prince offers to warm you up.

Might Get Caught by @dashesofink After helping him pull a prank on Dwalin, both of you hide from the fuming dwarf in a broom closet, but it seems Kíli can’t keep still this close to you...

Lessons by @legolaslovely Kíli gives you an archery lesson which leads to things heating up between the two of you.

*Dream of You by @legolaslovely Kíli goes to check on his stressed friend and finds her pleasuring herself to the thought of him.

Imagine: Cuddling with Kíli by @lotr-hobbit-imagines​

Thranduil

*More Than Words by @theimaginesyouneveraskedfor After arriving much later to a meeting than what could be considered ‘fashionable’, Thranduil is taken aback when your express your frustration and decides to put you in your place...

Last Night by @fromthedeskoftheraven​ Waking up beside your husband will never not be magical.

Fíli

Dirty Dishes series by @legolaslovely​ Part 1 | Part 2* Fíli loves visiting the mountain’s kitchens, though not necessarily for the food...

Thorin

*Magic by @legolaslovely Thorin teaches you to play the harp with your back pressed to his chest.

Imagine: Lazy Mornings with Thorin by @luna-xial​

Henry Cavill & characters

*cockwarming with henry by @henchry

*Comfort Me by @hlkwrites Henry had been away for 3 months, 13 weeks and 91 days when he finally comes home to you...

*Cardio in the Morning by @henchry​ Henry x reader

*Lemon and Leather by @venusbarnes Geralt x reader: It’s by chance that you stumble upon Geralt of Rivia; it’s by chance that you fall in love with him, too.

*headcannon: Henry in the sack by @melodramaticfanatic

*all that glitters is gold by @marionettefthjm Jaskier x Geralt: Jaskier marks his territory (Geralt) in subtle ways and Geralt, being an uncultured dumbass, doesn't realize it until Yennefer points it out to him.

Other

*convincing enough by @mandadoration Mando x reader: A blast from the past appears while you and Mando are out, leading to a very jealous Mando needing some convincing that there’s nothing to worry about.

*Happy International Women’s Day by @gyllenwh0re Jake Gyllenhaal x reader

*Dangerous Man by @im-an-octopus John Wick x reader: Working at The Continental isn’t at all what you thought it’d be.

*Blurry Lines by @ladyreapermc John Wick x reader: Wick is after a guy who sometimes works for you and that puts you under his radar so you run. Not fast enough though...

*Never Stopped Us Before by @sunriserose1023 Ransom Drysdale x reader: A quiet evening at home becomes anything but when an unexpected guest comes knocking at your door.

*Thank God for Sexual Frustration by @winchester-fantasies Dean Winchester x Reader: Dean offers to help you out when you’re going through a dry spell. No friends with benefits, simply a one time deal. But will you both be able to stop once you start?

*chain dangling with Dean by @carryonmywaywardwriters​ Dean Winchester x Reader

#masterlist #fic recs #recommended reading #marvel fic rec #marvel masterlist #marvel #thor #thor x reader #thor smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky smut #loki #loki x reader #loki smut #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #the hobbit #kili x reader #kili smut #fili smut #fili x reader #thorin smut #thorin x reader #thranduil x reader #thranduil smut #geralt x reader #geralt smut #the witcher #henry cavill smut

[elrondsscribe]

So I wanna say more about Elves as benders

because you know I’m trash and I have to, right?

Anyways, the more I think about the Tolkien mythos, the more fascinated I am with their bending.

So we have the Vanyar, who are apparently the clan who are closest to the Valar in general, but to Manwe (and Varda) in specific: Manwe, Lord of the Breath of Arda; Manwe, friend of birds. They were the ones originally most eager to get to Aman in the first place; they’re the ones who live closest to the Holy Mountain of Taniquetil. Doesn’t airbending seem like a perfect fit for them?

Then there are the Noldor. Can anyone say “fire, blood, and doom”? They were the ones who ‘fell’ in any sense of the word; they were the ones who rebelled, the ones who were Kinslayers. They seem to be closest to Aule, who was apparently the most like Melkor - you know, the one who envied the power of the Flame Imperishable? Certain standout Noldor like Feanor and Maedhros get called ‘fiery’ all the time in-text. Firebending would barely externalize this.

The Teleri are reportedly closest to Ulmo, Lord of the Waters, and to Osse and Uinen. They make the boats and do the sailing. Blah blah blah waterbending.

The Umanyar (particularly the Sindar and Nandor) never finished the journey to Aman because either they loved Middle-Earth so much or because they loved their missing king so much that they refused to leave. If that doesn’t say ‘earthbender’ I don’t know what does! And there’d definitely be the most diversity among these benders, because there’s so much diversity among those Elves.

But okay: I’ve already said as much earlier. Here’s where I started to run wild with it:

Associating lightning with firebending in ATLA is something that has a lot to do with Eastern philosophy; but in Western pantheons (I’m thinking specifically of Norse and Greek myth), lightning belongs to the sky god, making it the domain of Manwe (and therefore Elven airbenders).

Because love of the earth in Tolkien’s works is so bound up caring for plant life (especially trees), I think it’s pretty obvious that anything like plantbending would be the domain of Yavanna and Melian, and of Elven earthbenders.

Metalbending is a tricky one. Because of all the Elves it’s typically the Noldor who do the smithcraft; and it very much fits with the association between fire and forging and Aule. I figure that the Noldor manipulate metal with heat ... and probably also come up with some pretty sick inventions along the way!

But then, what are all the metals at all if not certain forms of mined, refined earth? If the Sindar/Nandor/whoever manipulated metal, they’d bend the metal itself, directly. But I also figure that many of them aren’t all that interested in metal in the first place.

Another thing about the Tolkienverse and firebending: the Flame Imperishable seems to stand for the mysterious creative power - the Force, if you will - underpinning all life in Ea. If there were any such thing as ‘true’ firebending, it would be tapping back into that. And at its most corrupted, someone could use firebending to steal another creature’s life force from them.

And as for bloodbending - well, I think the healing possibilities of bloodbending would be a lot more immediately evident to the Teleri than they were in ATLA. I wouldn’t be surprised if they thought of bending blood primarily as a healing art!

(One thing I’m still working out is the connection between Ulmo and music, and what that might mean for waterbending Teleri.)

Now in ATLA, there were creatures associated with the original bending arts: badgermoles for earth, dragons for fire, sky bisons for air, moon-and-ocean for water. I’d be surprised if it worked like that in the Tolkienverse, just because of how I imagine divine power would be linked to the bending arts. It just feels so natural to attach Yavanna to earth, Aule to fire, Manwe to air, and Ulmo to water - it all fits so perfectly.

It’s like the Tolkienverse Elves and the ATLA bending arts were built for this.

#airbending #earthbending #waterbending #firebending #elves as benders #lightning bending #metalbending #bloodbending #blood healing #tolkien elves #lotr #silmarillion #noldor as firebenders #vanyar as airbenders #teleri as waterbenders #sindar as earthbenders #i need to shut up #avatar bending #atla bending #bending arts

[bagginshielder]

the best things that happened to me this decade:

i got a dog ❤️ and i love him more than anything. hes my baby

i moved out and it has helped dealing with my depression so much

i got into tolkienverse again thanks to the hobbit movies. which leads to...

bagginshield. words cant describe how much this ship means to me. not only are they just absolutely perfect together, but thanks to them, i met so many wonderful people. especially:

@lovelylilpup ❤️ my best friend. the only person i talk to every day. mostly rp stuff, yes, but we can also tell each other anything. youre one of the most important people in my life. i love you so much ❤️

@lesbiankiliel sun ja jennan kaa on niin parasta käydä leffassa, laivalla, coneissa, ja viettää viikonloppuja yhdessä! mä oon niin iloinen et tavattiin ❤️ oot tärkee

and of course all of you bagginshield buddies, and even older tumblr friends! (shout out to @viictuurious, @danshikoi, & @y-eobo!!)

i found my favorite band. an actual favorite one, which i love so incredibly much. and i got to see them live! i love you, imagine dragons

realizing im bi, and coming out to most of the people in my life

#im so bad with words but #still wanted to make this post