lordnelson100

[lordnelson100]

Whenever Hagrid finally decides to retire as Care of Magical Creatures professor you can bet your last knut that Charlie Weasley flies back to England the following week excitedly waving his resume and recommendation letters from no less than two Scamanders and the Minister of Magic, Hermione Granger.

[lordnelson100]

Sméagol comes up with three possible titles to use once he gets the ring back. These are:

Lord Sméagol

Gollum the Great

The Gollum 

Which one do you think is best? Which would you use as a ruler over Middle Earth, while having fresh fish served to you ever day?

[lordnelson100]

💯 Husbands.

[lordnelson100]

If you can’t think of anything to say about a fic, writers also like to know:

- what time it is

- how long you’ve been reading

- how many chapters you’ve covered in the last 24 hours

- what you were late for because you were reading

- the woeful few hours you have left to sleep

- the emotional outbreaks you’re experiencing

- the inappropriate place you’re having said outbreak

- the general public’s reaction to your outbreak

- how much phone battery you have left

[lordnelson100]

I love counsil in Mithrim because it gave me laughing Maedhros and this:

[lordnelson100]

Russian scientists tracking migrating eagles ran out of money after some of the birds flew to Iran and Pakistan and their SMS transmitters drew huge data roaming charges.

After learning of the team’s dilemma, Russian mobile phone operator Megafon offered to cancel the debt and put the project on a special, cheaper tariff.

The team had started crowdfunding on social media to pay off the bills.

The birds left from southern Russia and Kazakhstan.

The journey of one steppe eagle, called Min, was particularly expensive, as it flew to Iran from Kazakhstan.

Min accumulated SMS messages to send during the summer in Kazakhstan, but it was out of range of the mobile network. Unexpectedly the eagle flew straight to Iran, where it sent the huge backlog of messages.

The price per SMS in Kazakhstan was about 15 roubles (18p; 30 US cents), but each SMS from Iran cost 49 roubles. Min used up the entire tracking budget meant for all the eagles.

[lordnelson100]

Maedhros the tall

Maedhros laughed saying: 'A king is he that can hold his own or else his title is vain. Thingol does but grant us lands where his power does not run. Indeed Doriath alone would be his realm this day but for the coming of the Noldor.Therefore in Doriath let him reign and be glad that he has the sons of Finwe for his neighbours not the Orcs of Morgoth that we found.

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

[lordnelson100]

Dark Tolkien

All those who wander are lost

[lordnelson100]

me: ugh i hate clichés

the plot: and then they find out that the character everyone thought had died holding off the enemy forces after helping the heroes escape was actually captured by the villain and has been alive this whole time

me, crying: omg they were alive the whole time

[lordnelson100]

“No weapon forged by mortal hands can slay me!” hits you with a rock

[lordnelson100]

You know that troublesome problem of how Sauron ended up back in Middle-Earth with the One Ring despite having been drowned in the Downfall of Numenor? I have a theory.

The body just straight-up died, which was unexpected. Normally that sort of thing would be inconvenient and mildly traumatic - Luthien threatened him with it, an Age of the world ago, and he was eager to avoid it - but not insurmountable. He’s made himself new forms dozens of times. But this time, there’s a problem. The body has the Ring, and with it the greater part of his power. One of those unforeseen consequences that comes with binding yourself to matter!

So I propose that Sauron essentially possessed himself, and dragged his own waterlogged corpse back to Middle-Earth. (He doesn’t want to talk about it. It was unpleasant. Not nearly so unpleasant, though, as when he tried making himself a new form, and discovered his new limitations.)

[lordnelson100]

(x)

[lordnelson100]

Frodo Laid a Geas (and other invisible magic)

This was so obvious when I realized it, but I think most people miss it, because we’re so desensitized by D&D-style magic with immediate, visibly, flashy effects, rather than more subtle and invisible forces of magic. When Gollum attacks Frodo on the slopes of Mount Doom, Frodo has the chance to kill him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says:

Frodo: Go! And if you ever lay hands on me again, you yourself shall be cast into the Fire!

Frodo’s not just talking shit here. He is literally, magically laying a curse. He’s holding the One Ring in his hands as he says it; even Sam, with no magic powers of his own, can sense that some powerful mojo is being laid down. Frodo put a curse on Gollum: if you try to take the Ring again, you’ll be cast into the Fire.

Five pages later, Gollum tries to take the Ring again. And that’s exactly what happens. Frodo’s geas takes effect and Gollum eats lava.

[lordnelson100]

I was legitimately thrilled with the overall reception of my costume. I never could’ve imagined that it would make so many people so happy! But I exchanged so many hugs and daps and high fives, it was unreal. I had a lot of really great conversations with people that were just super excited to see some Native representation at the convention. So that part was really special for me, because that was a big part of my own personal inspiration to begin with.

I originally brainstormed this costume in late 2015, but I really started rolling on production this last year, once I committed to this years SDCC… My main goal was to make a Native American variant of a fan-favorite character. I was immediately drawn to Captain America because of everything he symbolizes as basically the poster boy of a nation. To me it was the perfect parallel. And once I visualized the red and white bone breastplate on my abdomen, I knew this was something I had to see through.

A lot of old school leather work with the awl! The majority of the armor was made from a base of 6mm EVA foam with 3 oz deer hide glued over it. The pieces were then stitched together with sinew or leather lace. Using this technique allowed me to form curves and build the necessary bulk of the armor pieces while also getting the suede textures I was looking for. And a whole lot of beading!

—- https://www.instagram.com/hot.glue.burns/

PHOTO: https://www.instagram.com/p/B0FQd_1AKhk/

[lordnelson100]

Quite an experience to live in fear, isn’t it? Blade Runner (1982) | dir. Ridley Scott

[lordnelson100]

Crowley had time to take in three things when he opened the door to Aziraphale’s bookshop. First, that Hastur had not gotten any less revolting since the last time Crowley had seen him. Second, that their body swapping stunt hadn’t bought anywhere near as much time as he’d expected. Third, that the splash of water flying towards his face was very unlikely to have come from the local duck pond.

Even as he started to recoil, he knew he wouldn’t be fast enough. The worst part, he mused with a sense of detached horror, was that this meant they’d figure it out. It wouldn’t take a genius to put things together, once Crowley was reduced to a puddle of sodden clothes and a wisp of steam. Heaven and Hell would realise they’d pulled some kind of trick.

After he was gone, they’d come for Aziraphale.

Time slowed to a crawl. He twisted, trying to buy time to come up with a way out, to imagine an outcome where the sparkling droplets arcing towards him didn’t catch him across the chest. No time. No options.

He closed his eyes.

I’m sorry, angel.

There was a thunderous roar, a shattering crack, and the overpowering scent of ozone. Gravity tilted the ground out from underneath him… and then stopped.

Crowley’s eyes fluttered open, ears ringing and head spinning.

Aziraphale stood over him. The angel was wrapped around him, holding him up with one arm behind his waist and the other supporting his head. Crowley blinked at him, disoriented. Everything was too bright. White feathers swam in his vision behind the angel’s face.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale breathed, eyes wide with shock and inhumanly blue.

Crowley clawed his way out of the fog of confusion, tightening his grip on the angel’s jacket. Awareness snapped back in. They were in the doorway, Aziraphale’s back to the open door. His wings were out, one curved protectively around Crowley and the other angled to block the door.

Water dripped steadily from the tips of the gleaming feathers, falling to pool on the doorstep.

Crowley’s jaw dropped open. “Angel… how…”

Aziraphale moved the hand behind his head around to cup Crowley’s face. His eyes, still bright with otherworldly intensity, darted over the demon’s face, and his lip trembled.

“I knew it,” crowed Hastur’s voice.

Aziraphale’s face went utterly blank, hardening to marble. Crowley sucked in a breath, startled by the sudden change, but the angel’s fingers stroked over his cheek, soothing and gentle. Aziraphale closed his eyes, and briefly pressed his forehead against Crowley’s.

Then he straightened. And turned.

He took a step towards Hastur, and a surge of chilling ethereal power made Crowley stagger backwards. One step, then another, the angel’s feet struck the ground with the sound of a deafening bell. Invisible power gathered around him, righteous and malevolent, and as he walked onto the street his wings stretched wide.

“I do believe,” he said, voice terrible and vast and almost painful to Crowley’s ears, “you’re at the wrong shop.”

Hastur stared at the angel, at his flaming blue eyes, and crackling power, and the holy water still dripping from his wing.

Then the demon disappeared with a terror-stricken pop.

[lordnelson100]

YOU ONLY KEEP ONE BULL 

(Originally published in Comics For Choice)