#let them become old ass gandalf wizards

[makerscockandballs]

and then they do. the end

[Image ID: Two-part sketch of Anders and Hawke holding hands, grinning and looking very lovey-dovey with hearts and sparkles around them. Hawke has long black hair tied into a ponytail with red ribbon, a short beard and the typical red nose stripe. In the first part, Anders says “I want to grow old with you” to which Hawke responds with “Wow me too :)”. In the second part, a big thought bubble comes from both of their heads which depicts them as very old men with long white hair, huge beards and wizard hats, also holding hands and looking lovey-dovey. /. End ID]

[mmmthornton]

Abbott Elementary D&D Episode WHEN baby?

What can I say, I'm a simple lesbian. I see a show with a great group dynamic and I gotta think about what they'd be like at the tabletop.

Plus, I'm...responsibly imbibing and putting off work so HERE WE GO!

Jacob becomes determined to start some kind of gaming club at the school, but he hadn't actually DM'd before so he asks the other teachers if he can do a "practice run" first and bribes them with takeout and beer to let him run a game for them in the gym in the evenings. Surprisingly Barbara has come around to it NOT being a tool of the devil thanks to her and her husband watching Stranger Things together ("If it can help those kids beat a demon and learn to appreciate family in the god-forsaken 1980s, it can't be all bad"). Melissa says she could learn a new game since its no fun card sharking the same five people at her local bar, and Gregory is pretending really really hard that he's not EXTREMELY excited about this because he's always wanted to play but never did as a kid. Ava laughs until she cries when Jacob first asks if she wants to join then flips when Gregory will be there..."and when those craft beers go right through his skinny hipster body" she wants to be there to see his "wild" side. Janine knows nothing about the game but is excited about a new extracurricular activity and thinks its a great way to bond with the kids, and Mr. Johnson wasn't invited but shows up with Coke and a Costco-sized bag of Smartpop because he KNOWS whats up.

Barbara : Definitely a Cleric. She is willing to physically fight Jacob though if she has to "choose a god" from the pantheon, so to keep the peace AND the immersive experience they agree Not To Go Into It but its enough that her healing and spells are faith-endowed. Early on though, she gets some REALLY good rolls to hit when they're surrounded by enemies and she becomes more of a "warcaster" in addition to healing. Lots of buffs and she gets into the idea of a powerful warrior who gives holy blessings with her presence. Probably should've chosen Paladin from the getgo with how she ends up playing, but she makes Cleric work for her.

Melissa : Definitely a Rogue. Okay, I promise all my thoughts aren't basic but also listen to me. The whole concept of the rogue network is SO up her alley. She almost seems like she's not even playing a character at first, but then JACOB surprises her with his NPCs and the two of them roleplay thieves cant as a sort of south philly slang. I think Jacob would be an AMAZing DM so he's ready to meet her where she is (not really invested at first, kind of skeptical on the whole thing), and draw her in by accurately using terminology and making the world feel gritty, lived-in, and familiar - and Melissa LOVEs it. She starts to really get into the fiction of this fantasy world and take the threat/plot hook seriously. Gets yelled at by the support for jumping into fights and going unconscious because she's not a tank class; maybe multiclasses into Barbarian or at least takes a feat or two so she's not going down every fight.

Gregory : The archetypal wizard; old, beard, pointy hat, the whole deal. I hear you thinking "Why not human fighter?" but no. Gregory will not do human fighter, he's been waiting to play D&D for like twenty years and hes researched EVERY aspect of every class. Could be a minmaxer, but moreso is just WAY overthinking the choice so finally Jacob just gives him a premade, high-fantasy, Gandalf-ass wizard named something like Geoffrey Jankins or whatever. Gregory spends a lot of time making his : [ face, worried that he's already destroyed his chance of "having fun in a tabletop game with work friends" because he's THAT kind of person. Once he relaxes, he starts to feel a lot more kinship with his wizard character; he's got a backstory in the premade sheet where he's trying to find a spellbook that was stolen from him that contained years of his hard work and research. Over the course of the game Jankins kind of works with the others the same way Gregory did as he warmed up to them as a substitute, and in the end has the Real Emotional Moment in-game as he realizes what his work was keeping him away from (the relationships with the others in the group being his found family). No one leaves that game with a dry eye.

Ava : Elf Bard, College of Swords. She refused to make a character when Jacob mentioned it involved adding numbers because she's too hot for math, so she got another premade that he knew she'd enjoy. She's actually pretty stoked on the idea of a Creative and Powerful Artist who's dripping with charisma enough that she actually gets the ins and outs of the spell rules really well and is very generous with her Bardic Inspirations ("even to Gregory's old-head-ass"). She does however seem to only use Cutting Words on her own team, specifically Janine ("Jacob! How could you let her use that spell?" "In my defense I didn't think she'd even read the spell sheet!"). I say College of Swords because the worst thing about being a bard is having to share the spotlight with someone else, so she decides she wants to be the hero AND the sexy song vixen who makes the ballad about it.

Janine : Some kind of Genasi or fey druid. She wants to connect with the nature in the world and tries to channel a kind of Pan-from-mythology-meets-Steve-Irwin-depicted-by-Simone-Biles character. Her character motivation is she wants to write a guidebook of the animals - both common and magical - that they come across but keeps absolutely failing her rolls. She rolls a one and slaps a Mystical Enchanted Forest Deer in the face, launching a fight that the party is NOT prepared for. IS very good in a fight; she'll transform into an owlbear and headbutt an enemy away if one of the other party members are in trouble. Only remembers how to use like, three spells total and doesn't tell Jacob that she has no clue how things like spell slots or materials work so she just doesn't track it / makes up a number when asked how much she has. Jacob catches on pretty quickly, but side eyes into the camera to let us know he's deliberately letting it slide because she keeps rolling badly and could use the break.

Mr. Johnson : Makes his own dwarf warlock who's ABSOLUTELY minmaxed to hell. The overall playstyle of the group though is more laid back, but he's after a harder core play experience and only drops in sometimes if he hears there's a boss fight. Can do things from the book that are completely legal but have Jacob looking up obscure status effects and rules to try to keep up. Would probably make a good DM, but says he's more of a Warhammer guy.

Jacob : Obviously the DM, but I imagine that once the kids get into the game one of them might want to take a turn DM'ing. Jacob, gleaming with pride, would be happy to pass the DM screen to the "younger, brighter, woker generation". He joins the party as a ranger ("...which in the fifth edition classic is not the most capable class however with updates and features can be utilized in very specific cases for role-play and battlefi-" "For f*cks sake Jacob just take a shortbow proficiency and lets get on with it"), and spends most of the time that they're playing being extremely proud of his student....until the kid catches him on a technicality on his animal companion range.

[wincestisasincest]

The Barrel - Ch. 1 (LOTR x Reader)

Okay, so time for a fun and sexy take on Modern Girl in Middle Earth that no one asked for - what if the Modern Girl had a gun? I wanted to try and write something where the Modern Girl in question was not completely defenseless, and had a fair amount of experience that the others lacked.

This will be very slow burn, I think.

Chapter: 1

Words: 1452

Warnings: Blood, guns (obviously)

Pairings: None (yet)

The butt of the rifle cracked against your cheek. You bit your tongue, but kept your arms rigid and eyes open. The taste of copper slithered between your teeth.

The orc staggered, his head reeling back with the force of the bullet that had just been lodged into it. His spine arched, and his arms flailed. Before he could catch his balance, his heart finished beating and he collapsed to the ground. Pungent, dark blood oozed into the dirt.

The wizard hardly flinched. His weary, sloped brow and buggish eyes were fixed on you thoughtfully. He tugged a strand of his curly brown beard - the one that had been blanched with bird crap.

You dropped your arms and let the rifle relax into the natural dent of your hands. They were clammy, but the crisp chilliness of the forest kept them from being sweaty. Everything about you, from the fresh redness pooling in your cheeks due to the recoil of the gun to the congested nose you had that made you sniff every couple of minutes, put you on the edge of sickness. And yet, here you were, shambling and corpse-like, but still upright and alive.

You stepped towards the wizard, your eyes occasionally darting back to the orc. You hadn’t registered yet that you were the one who killed it. You’d give it some time.

“Are you Radagast the Brown?”

You kept your voice monotone and deep to not risk exposing the rasp extending up the back of your throat.

“Who’s asking? Friend or foe?”

“Friend. I’m (y/n).”

“No family?”

“None that are around here. I’m, uh, not from here. If it wasn’t already obvious.”

You swayed nervously on your legs. Your combat boots were worn beyond repair, though their gaudy artificial stitching that was loosely holding them together still stuck out like a sore thumb. The black tank top clung to your body, and though you mostly kept it hidden with an oversized jacket, you couldn’t help the occasional peak of bare flesh and tight fabric. Oh, and, of course, your jeans were bright-ass blue and had a leather tag on the back with an impeccably printed logo.

“Indeed,” the wizard nodded, “I’ve never seen a bow quite like that before.”

You neither. This whole shooting business was about as new as Middle Earth. When you had woken up in a small pile of freshly fallen leaves, the gun, along with a few packages of ammo, were about 10 feet from your stiff body. You hadn’t dared to practice anything besides loading and unloading the gun, lest you run out of ammo in the middle of your hour of need. You had abstained from counting, knowing that it would just make you more nervous.

“Yeah...” you trailed, “but anyway, I know you don't know me, but you know Gandalf, right? He needs help.”

“Help? Now, there’d have to be something mighty strong that could get that old goat in trouble,” he raised an eyebrow hawkishly.

“Saruman.”

“Saruman? Well now, that can’t be.”

“He’s working with Sauron. Looking for the ring, and-”

“Hush!” he finally broke eye contact with you and warily scanned the tops of the trees. Nothing but a wall of silence.

“The forest... it’s quiet. Someone is listening. Come, come. Matters like these ought to be discussed inside,” he turned around and waved for you to follow, hustling in between long, imposing trunks that looked like they were ready to fall on you and crush the life out of you at any second.

******

You had killed the moth. Not on purpose, of course. You seemed to have fallen on it after you crashed through the sky of Middle Earth.

You could remember hearing its screams. You rolled over, looking for the source, grinding the roots further into your ribcage. When you finally saw the tiny thing flitting on the ground, trying to get your attention, you dumbly watched its crushed wings and snapped legs twitch with jolts of desperation.

“I have a message! A message for Radagast the Brown! Friend of the Eagles! You must take it in my stead - it is urgent. The fate of Gandalf the Gray depends on it.”

You said nothing, barely able to keep yourself conscious as you rapidly inhaled and expelled stilted breaths.

“Gandalf the Gray was betrayed by former friend Saruman the White. He is on top of the tower Orthanc, in Isengard, dying with each passing moment. He dispatched me to tell Radagast to seek out the aid of the Eagles - he fears that they may be his only chance at rescue from the tower.”

“Are... are you real?” you finally sputtered.

“I am alive, but not for much longer. My strength fails me. But you must go. Follow along the edge of Mirkwood until you find the brown wizard. The fate of Gandalf, and perhaps the realm, may depend on you. Please, time is of the essence. You must leave.”

The creature’s mouth never moved. You never heard the sound of its voice. But you felt the words in your head, bouncing around there after being injected by some foreign source. The moth pointed its head straight at you.

“Please. It does not matter who you are - your future depends on the knowledge that only Gandalf holds.”

A throbbing pain blossomed in the back of your head, just under your neck. The moth flitted its wings once more, and then the telepathic force that had been drilling into your skull blinked out.

You took a long sip of murky liquid in a cracked glass teacup. Warmth stirred in your void of a stomach, which you had been trying to ignore.

“My word. Then it is true. Saruman has turned to the darkness,” Radagast said to no one in particular. He looked out the window, as if waiting for the silhouette of his friend to appear over the horizon, completely fine.

“I’m sorry,” was all that you could say.

He turned to you, eyes still flickering with life but in danger of going out.

“So am I,” he said grimly, “but, no matter. Gandalf was right. The Eagles are his only chance of salvation from a place as wicked as Isengard. I’ll get the message to them at once.”

He looked at his feet. You couldn’t actually recall much about Radagast from the books - you knew more about how low of an opinion Saruman had of him. But the look of despair that was settling deep within his chest was a grave reminder that he was just as capable of complex thought as anyone else.

You realized that you had just seen a man accept that there would be war on their hands, and that there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

“It will be alright in the end,” you found yourself saying.

Finally, he looked up at you sadly.

“I know. The world will always be okay in the end. And I, who have lived many years and will live many more, will be around to see it. But what will happen to everyone in between?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “but in the meantime we’ll just... do our best to protect them. That’s all we can do, right?”

You tilted the edge of your lips up, not quite forming a grin but far from the hopeless neutrality that you had carried with you into the house. He analyzed you, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips, not caring if you noticed.

“Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n).”

“A person is more than their name, especially one such as you.”

“I’m nobody important to this world. I don’t belong here.”

“And yet here you are. You’ve become somebody important,” he scratched his chin, “this appears to be beyond me, but I suggest that you consult with Gandalf. You’re already heading in his direction anyway.”

“What?”

“I’m sending you with the Eagles. The fellow will be in a mighty poor condition when you find him, it’d be irresponsible for me to send him back all by himself. And besides, you seem like a useful person to know.”

He smiled coyly. Your mind buzzed.

“There must be someone else that you can send?”

“Nope. Well, no one humann, anyway. One of the quirks of dedicating your being to the plants and the animals. Now, on you get! I can hear them circling overhead.”

You had no idea how he had summoned the Eagles, and at this point, you were almost too afraid to ask. You gritted your teeth and let your stomach do a cartwheel as you realized that you were about to come to terms with your fear of heights in the worst way possible.

So be it.

[arrantsnowdrop]

Informalities - Éomer x reader

Request:  “Eomer x reader fic where the reader is from our world and Eomer listens to the stories the reader says of our world and he thinks that it is a grand place and so when they are finally getting together, Eomer feels kind of insecure cuz he feels he'll never live up to the reader's "standards" and the reader says that they are insecure because he is a prince and she has nothing"

Tags: @thewhiteladyofrohan

Warnings: mention of battles and death, about 2,200 words

A/N: Hoppy Easter lads and lasses, we are back from a many month writing hiatus. Hope y’all enjoy, I’m glad to be here :)

You genuinely had no idea how you’d ended up in Middle Earth.

It was one of those fever dream situations - one moment you were falling asleep in your own bed, and the next you were waking up at the bottom of a tree, surrounded by many bearded and concerned looking men.

Of course you’d been startled and so, so confused, but it had only taken you a few moments to recognize the characters from one of your favorite stories, and then you’d fully accepted your new reality.

By the time you first encountered the fellowship, they had already lost Gandalf at Moria and passed through the realm of Lothlorien. They were traveling in their fancy elvish boats when they’d spotted you from the river. You were extremely grateful for that - who knows what would’ve happened if the Uruk-hai tracking them had found you first.

Boromir and Gimli were quite intimidated by your presence, having been brought up in traditions that designated men for warrior roles. Aragorn and Legolas were much more accepting (female elves were just as badass as any male elf or man, and both of them knew that). The hobbits had all taken an immediate liking to you, and you’d been devastated to lose them during the Uruk ambush. Of course, this only gave you a stronger drive to track them into Rohan with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

It was there that you met Éomer for the first time, after his riders surrounded your small group of assumed invaders.

He was handsome, there was no denying that, and you found his decision to protect Rohan even in exile extremely brave. He’d been startled by your presence (a group including a dwarf, an elf, AND a woman must’ve been an oddity for him), and thus had talked primarily with Aragorn, but you could not shake the way his eyes locked with yours as he offered you his condolences about Merry and Pippin.

You figured you’d never see the handsome blonde again, glumly complaining to Gimli about it several times throughout Rohan.

Thus, you’d been overjoyed when he arrived at the Battle of Helm’s Deep - half because he was saving your asses from almost certain death, and half because you’d get to see his face and hear his voice again.

You followed Aragorn after the battle, searching for Gandalf in the celebrating crowd. It did not take long, with his bright white robes being quite easy to pick out.

“Gandalf!” you screamed gleefully, weaving between the people around you to get to the smiling wizard.

“It is good to see you, (Y/n),” he said as you embraced him.

“Oh, it’s even better to see you,” you said.

“I have to agree with (Y/n),” Aragorn said from behind you. You pulled back, allowing Gandalf time to greet your friend, and quickly caught sight of a familiar face.

He had been laughing with some other men when his gaze fell on you, eyes locking with yours for the second time. You smiled a bit and offered an awkward wave, face flushing as he flashed you a smile.

“Ah, (Y/n), this is Lord Éomer, current heir to the throne of Rohan,” Gandalf said, noticing the two of you staring at each other.

“We’ve met before,” he said, walking towards you

“Indeed we have,” you replied as he stopped just in front of you. “It is a pleasure to meet you, oh-future-king,” you said, bowing a bit.

You could hear Aragorn slap his forehead from behind you and grinned.

“She’s not from around here, so do forgive her manners,” Aragorn said.

“Or lack thereof,” you added, straightening yourself once more and looking at Éomer’s amused face.

“I appreciate the informality,” Éomer grinned. You spun around and pointed at Aragorn.

“See? Someone appreciates me,” you accused.

You were extremely happy to meet Éomer. It’s not that you didn’t adore Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli, but they were also the only people you’d been around for quite a while. It was exciting to make a new friend, especially one so handsome and charismatic.

The two of you spent the entire ride to Isengard delving into each other’s lives, from childhoods to secret fears to favorite foods. Obviously, the two of you had led quite different lives, and he was fascinated by the world you had come from.

“These cars you speak of, are they like horses?” he asked.

“No, they’re much faster,” you replied. “They’re more like a carriage, since they have space for several people inside.”

“But it moves without a horse?”

“Yup!”

“Who steers in then?”

You were grinning ear to ear at the look of bewilderment on his face.

“One of the people inside,” you answered. “There’s a wheel to control which direction you go and pedals on the floor to control the speed.”

“That sounds terribly complicated,” Éomer said, brows furrowing.

“It’s not too bad,” you said, “I was even pretty good at it.”

Éomer shot you an alarmed look.

“You used to steer these...these things?” he asked incredulously. You laughed and nodded. “You have to be taught how to do it,” you explained. “It’s not like they throw you into it without any preparation.”

“It still sounds extremely dangerous,” he decided.

“I did break my arm in a crash once,” you said thoughtfully. He gasped.

“You can crash them?”

Éomer had quickly become one of your favorite people, which only made the continuous battles over the fate of Middle Earth even more stressful. You were terrified he would ride into a fight and never return, and even more terrified of what that meant.

You’d searched for him for hours after the Battle for Minas Tirith, heart growing more and more heavy as you continued. Every person you asked had no idea where he was, and by the time you returned to the White City, your hands were shaking with anxiety. Finding him outside of the makeshift infirmary that had been set up was the most relieving moment of your entire life.

You had gasped the moment you caught sight of his all too familiar golden hair, letting out a desperate sob as his eyes met yours, him rushing over to you and wrapping you in his arms. Your embrace was filled with all the emotions both of you were too terrified to say aloud.

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured into his chest, eyes wet and lips trembling.

“It will take far more than a few Oliphaunts to kill me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted nothing more than to tell him in that moment how much you loved him, but decided against it. You knew the fighting was not over, the last thing you needed was for him to be distracted by you during battle and find himself impaled with some pointy object. If you both lived to the end of this, you would tell him then.

But then you were too scared to do it.

Of course you had won - the ring had been destroyed, Aragorn had led the crusade against the forces of Mordor, and Gondor was preparing to crown its long lost king. Everyone was staying in Minas Tirith until the coronation, but then everyone was leaving. All your friends would be heading home, but you did not have one of those here in Middle Earth.

Aragorn had already offered you a place in Gondor’s leadership, and thus a permanent residence with him, and the hobbits were more than happy to escort you back to the Shire with them, but you knew both of these options would separate you from the one person you wanted to be with.

All you wanted was to follow Éomer back to Edoras, but you were unsure if that would be best for him. He was about to be crowned king of Rohan, and probably had many ladies of Rohan’s nobility lined up to rule with him. It was selfish for you to think you had any right to his heart, especially when his duties and responsibilities were so much more important than an outspoken, title-less woman.

So you distanced yourself from him. You avoided him whenever possible, taking the longest routes you could to dinners and meetings. You tried not to be affected by his desperate gaze, or the way he called for you as you rushed out of a room. It hurt you more than anything, but you knew it would be better for him in the long run. You succeeded with your plan until the night before Aragorn’s coronation.

You’d been walking home from dinner (a huge, pre-celebration feast that qualified as a celebration itself) through an old, twisty corridor. You opened the door to your room only to see Eomer sitting on your bed, a worried look on his face.

You jumped slightly, startled by his presence.

“What are you doing in here?” you said breathlessly. “This is totally an invasion of my privacy and absolutely uncalled for at such a late hour, you almost gave me a heart attack-”

“Forgive me,” he interrupted, standing up from the bed, eyes fixated on you. You both stood there in silence for some time, the closest you’d been to each other for the first time in days.

“I missed you,” he murmured finally. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You looked down at your feet and nodded. You did not want to see the look of betrayal that he was undoubtedly wearing.

“Why?” he whispered. You winced at the sound of hurt in his voice.

“You would not understand Éomer, but I promise it was in your best interest,” you replied.

“You are my best friend, (Y/n), how could ignoring me benefit me?” he asked incredulously. You looked up at him, trying to ignore the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“Éomer-”

“Please,” he cut you off desperately, slowly walking towards you. “I have missed you more than you could possibly imagine.” “That is the issue,” you whispered, closing your eyes to avoid looking at him.

“How is that an issue?” he begged.

“Because you are about to be a king,” you shouted, eyes still closed. “And you will leave after tomorrow with everyone else, back to Edoras, where new responsibilities will be awaiting you and demanding your attention.”

“How does that have anything to do with you?” he asked, voice sounding a lot closer than before. You gulped, sensing him right in front of you.

“I would be a distraction,” you replied meekly. Éomer did not reply, but instead reached to grab your hands with his own, you gasping as he pulled you into his chest.

“(Y/n), you are not a distraction, how could you-”

“I do not want you to leave me here,” you interrupted, resting your forehead against him. “I am so scared I’ll never see you again, but your life is about to be so much more important than me.”

“I do not want to leave you here,” he said, wrapping his arms around your back. “I want you to come with me. You’re my best friend, how could I abandon you?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” you whispered, “even if I were physically with you, that would not stop me from...from…”

You stopped and bit your lip, terrified of the confession about to pour out of you. Éomer moved his hand below your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

“Stop you from what?” he whispered intensely, eyes searching your face desperately. You exhaled breathily.

“I love you, Éomer,” you said softly, watching as his expression softened. “So, so much.”

He blinked once, twice, registering what you had just said, and smiled, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

“I love you more than anyone, (Y/n),” he murmured.

“But, surely there are women back in Rohan who are far more suitable for-”

“(Y/n),” Éomer said seriously, pulling away to look you in the eyes once more. “I have the power to be with whomever I choose.”

“But why would you choose me?” you asked meekly. Éomer chuckled, brushing a stray bit of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear tenderly. You leaned into his hand slightly, relishing in the way he cupped your face.

“I was more nervous that you wouldn’t choose me,” he admitted. You look at him in confusion.

“How could I not choose you?” you asked.

“You’re much more interesting than I am,” he shrugged. “You come from a world that is so much more exciting than mine, and the last thing I want is for you to settle for me.”

“Éomer, you stab people with swords and ride horses all day. And live in a castle. That is insanely cool,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “Of course I choose you.”

“And I choose you,” he murmured, pulling you closer to him. “Please come home with me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding fervently. “Yes, please.”

Éomer grinned, tilting your face up to his once more and leaning down to kiss you. Your heart leaped, hand reaching up to grab the back of his head to intensify the kiss. He moaned softly, bending down to pick you up and twirling you around. You giggled and pressed your nose against his.

“I’m thinking we make my coronation far less formal than Aragorn’s,” Éomer said, “as much as I’ve been loving these dinners, I don’t think I could stand hosting them.”

“You know I’m fantastic at informalities,” you replied.

[loserholland]

𝐀 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 | 𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➺ Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark!Reader ft Morgan Stark (platonic)

Warning ➺ Slight TFATWS spoiler, some angst, pure fluff, Morgan being a comedian 

Word Count ➺ 2.9k

Summary ➺ After the blip and loosing his best friend, you were there to keep Bucky grounded.

A/N ➺ Based off the song “I hear a symphony” by Cody Fry, such an amazing song. I’M ALSO SO SORRY IF I’M A LITTLE RUSTY 

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou​@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv​ @spider-mendes​ @jessybellsworld​ @quaksonhehe​

☞  Masterlist  ☜

Five years.

It had been five years before everyone returned, five years since Thanos snapped his fingers and wiped nearly 50% of the content. Five years of darkness, questioning whether or not those who turned to dust would come back. The thought of those who disappeared never coming back scared everyone, the thought of never seeing your mother, father, daughter, son- your friends and siblings again?

(Y/N) was one of the lucky ones to not turn to dust, but watching those around her slowly disintegrate never failed to bring her to tears every night. She was lucky enough to fight along side everyone, disobeying Tony’s order of staying put and “letting the adults handle it” she instead convinced Rhodey to let her follow, claiming if he let her he’d be her favorite uncle.

That’s where she saw him again, after nearly two years since Berlin. She had of course stuck by her father’s side and when he had gone to Sibera she stood with him. That’s when they had learned the winter soldier had killed her father’s parents. (Y/N) never entirely blamed Bucky, he never did it. It was the Winter Solider, not Bucky.

Tony always said she had her mothers heart and if her mom was still around she’d be proud of her, for always trying to see the best in people whether they’re good or bad.

“Wow, you’ve grown kid.”

𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨

A voice all too familiar spoke slowly she turned on her heels, his hair was still long it grew merely a few inches. He had also grown out his beard, the last time she had saw him it was more over stumble. She chuckled lightly stepping forward but keeping some distance between them, “Kid? I’m twenty-one James, plus we’ve been over this- I hate it when you guys call me kid!”

Bucky let out a small laughter showing off his pearly white teeth, there was always something about Bucky that made (Y/N)’s stomach fill with butterflies. I mean- who wouldn’t? Bucky was a handsome man.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨

“How have you been old-man?”

(Y/N) was the only person who had called Bucky by his first name, of course you had seen his files and even read about him smithsonian exhibit. She just felt she didn’t have the right to call him Bucky due to not knowing him long enough.

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes” she read to herself, reading the following description of the man.

That’s when you first saw how handsome this he was. And, when you first met him in Berlin it was amazing to see him up close. Well it’s not so amazing when some dumbass breached the centre and turned him back into the winter solider for a minute causing him to well fight everyone in his path.

After your dad’s ass was handed to him, he surely handed your ass to you he had you in a choke hold against the wall, your feet was a few inches above the ground.

“James, please.”

He’s eyes widened every so slightly tightening his metal hand around your throat, you felt yourself slide down against the wall gasping for air watching as T’Challa and him fought one another.

“I’ve been good, I’ve never felt so- calm an at peace in a while.”

(Y/N) smiled, that was good, it was good to see him happy for once and not afraid he’ll hurt someone again. He was brave and strong, from what she had read in the smithsonian exhibit and what she had seen in the past two years.

“Guys lets go, and kid stop leaving my sight your dad will kill me if anything happens!” (Y/N) groaned and stomped her feet to the ground “Uncle Rhodey! Stop calling me kid!” Bucky only chuckled at her, a sense of warmth filled his body- an uncommon warmth.

𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸

(Y/N) knocked on Bucky’s apartment door, “Why aren’t we at the zoo yet?” Morgan questioned looking up at her older sister in confusion- Pepper was out of town dealing with business so she had to bring Morgan along to her.

When everyone came back, she had grown closer to Bucky. They had both lost someone, she had lost her father and he lost his best friend. Ever since her father’s death, she would dream about him often it started to become a regular thing after she started hanging out with Bucky. Last night’s dream, he had told her that if she got with Barnes he would be okay with it and to also apologize for blasting his arm off. Maybe it was just her subconscious playing tricks on her.

She crouched down slightly to be the same height as her sister, “Babe, remember I told you that my friend James would be coming along?” just then the door opened causing (Y/N) to fall back at the sudden movement. Instead of helping her sister up or asking if she was okay, she laughed and said “You fell on your booty.” oh, she was definitely Tony Starks daughter.

Bucky quickly helped her up apologizing for giving her a small fright, she noticed something different about Bucky he had cut his long hair. Just a few days ago he had it up in a man bun, “You cut your hair?” his brows furrowed, he ran his gloved fingers through his freshly cut hair “Does it look bad?” worry laced his voice.

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “No! It looks good!” Morgan looked between the two adults standing in front of her before she let out a dramatic sigh, “Can we go now?” with that Bucky locked grabbed his keys and locked the front door as they proceeded towards the elevator.

The Central Park Zoo was in walkable distance, so (Y/N) left he car parked in the garage of Bucky’s apartment. Morgan stared at Bucky gloved hand she tilted her head slightly before asking, “Why are you wearing gloves? Aren’t your hands sweating?” (Y/N) eyes widened looking at the top of Morgan’s head then to Bucky who was laughing.

“Morgan!”

“It’s a serious question.” she shrugged as she kicked her feet awaiting for an answer, “Well because, this arm-” he lifted his left arm “is made out of vibranium.” Morgan looked up at him before saying, “Cool- now swing!” she grabbed his hand causing (Y/N) to look at Bucky. She knew he was a bit touch sensitive, “Mor-” before she could say her sister’s name again Bucky cut her off “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” he took her small hand into his before pulling his arm back then forward.

𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶

Bucky watched as you smiled whenever Morgan would let out a small giggle, he felt the same warmth he did back in Wakanda. The same warmth she could only give him. He was grateful to have her in his life, she gave him the benefit of the doubt seeing the good and accepting the bad. He knew that she knew his history but still befriended him anyways saying, “there’s good in everyone even if you can’t see the good in you, I do.”

“How has therapy been going?” They stood behind the four year old who was admiring the penguins. Bucky shrugged lightly fixing his gaze to his shoes, “‘ts been good.” he mumbled. It had been about two weeks since he started therapy with Dr.Christina Raynor, you knew he had trouble opening up and well at most times never opened up at all. 

Morgan came running back to the two, “I wanna see the red pandas.” she grabbed theirs hands and began to drag them towards her current favorite animal at the moment.

She wondered if he still had nightmares, there were times he’d call her just to talk because he couldn’t go back to sleep. The sound of an old sitcom could be heard in the background anytime he’d call.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦

Bucky watched as (Y/N) carried Morgan in her arms pointing at the red pandas, red pandas? How are they even pandas? Bucky thought to himself, watching as (Y/N) made Morgan giggle loudly she must have said some kind of joke. He watched as she turned her head slightly catching her eye, he began to notice this twinkle whenever she was smiling or talking about something she’s passionate about or enjoyed.

"So, what did you think?” the credits of Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone began to roll in.  As far as Bucky knew, the only wizard he had read about before was Gandalf in the hobbit. Who would’ve thought about writing a book about a 11 year old wizard?

“It was surprisingly good.” He watched as her eyes lit up the corners of her lips tugging upwards.  He loved to see her smile, to see the twinkle in her eye just before she spoke on about how much she loved something.

“I knew you would like it! Gosh it’s amazing- I could go on about the wizarding world but I’m sure you would rather not-”

“I have the time.”

(Y/N) had concluded Bucky would belong in Hufflepuff and basically forced him to take the pottermore test in which she was correct, he was in fact a hufflepuff. She had gone on why he’s in hufflepuff- though he didn’t really care about the reasons he just wanted to hear her talk.

“You have a lovely family.”

The comment caused Bucky to turn his head slightly pulling him from the recent memory, an elderly woman who seemed to be in her late sixties gave him a warm smile. “Uh- she’s actually my-” what is she to me?  Before Bucky could answer (Y/N) had walked over with Morgan still in her arms.

“Hey, ready to go?”

Before Bucky could answer the lady spoke again, “I was just telling your husband you have a lovely family.” (Y/N) eyes widened her mouth slightly agape before responding, “We’re actual friends and, she’s my younger sister.” friends.

“Oh, my apologies. Have a great rest of your day.”

(Y/N) gave the lady a warm smile watching as she walked away, “Well, I think you’ve seen enough animals don’t you think?” Morgan tapped her index finger against her chin pinching her brows together, sometimes she was just a mini version of your dad or sometimes Pepper- but mostly Tony.

“Yeah- I’m hungry.” 

Making their way towards the exit the gift shop had caught Morgan’s eye, specifically a red panda plush she shrieked loudly causing (Y/N) to jump with caution thinking something was wrong with her little sister, while Bucky stood there with his eyes widened.

“I need it!”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed, “Morgan- you know mom is gonna be mad at me if I get you yet another red panda plush. Remember, you have like a billion of them.” Morgan pouted slightly crossed her arms across her chest and stomped away.

“Dad would’ve gotten it for me!” (Y/N) frowned at the comment, of course he would’ve- he loved seeing the smile on your face anytime he got you something whether you were five or nineteen. 

𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦

“I’ll meet you guys outside- I’m gonna use the restroom.” Bucky spoke, watching as she ran after her little sister. Well- he didn’t actually need to use the restroom- he had gotten the plush Morgan was head over heels for. He waited a couple minutes before finally exiting the zoo spotting (Y/N) holding Morgan in her lap as they sat on a bench not too far from the exit.

He held the plush behind his back, as he drew closer he could hear Morgan sob quietly. He sat down next to (Y/N) leaning his head slightly onto her shoulder, “Hey Morgan.” the five year old pulled back slightly wiping the back of her sleeve across her nose lips still in a pout.

Slowly he pulled the plush that was hidden behind his back into view, watching as Morgan’s eyes widened an a huge smile paint her lips quickly she snatched it from his hand and hugged it turning her body from side to side.

Morgan hopped out of her sister’s lap and onto Bucky’s wrapping her arms around his neck, “Thank you, thank you!” she chanted catching Bucky off guard as he slowly wrapped his arms around her.

“Anytime kid.” 

They walked back to Bucky’s apartment in comfortable silence, Morgan squealing every here and there every time she hugged her new plush. Once they had reached his apartment, Bucky offered for the two to stay for pizza which Morgan quickly agreed to. 

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘳

(Y/N) and Bucky situated themselves in the kitchen cross from each other- (Y/N) sat on a stool while Bucky stood. Meanwhile Morgan was in the living room distracted with her new plush, “Thank you for getting her the plush- I- I just didn’t know how to react when she said-” Bucky placed his hand over hers squeezing it reassuringly, she squeezed back giving him a warm smile. They stayed like this for a few minutes before (Y/N) cleared her throat causing Bucky to pull his hand away. 

“You never answered my question earlier, about therapy.” She watched as he tensed at the word therapy, truth be told. He was struggling, he was still having nightmares and he was having trouble opening up to his therapist. He gets annoyed whenever she pulls out her notebook and starts to scribble stuff down.

“I made amends with um- Senator Atwood. No one got hurt.” (Y/N) nodded, “That’s good! Any progress with Dr.Raynor?” Bucky sighed lightly, running his fingers through his hair, “Kind of? I mean every time I tell her I haven’t had a nightmare she gets all aggressive and writes in her notebook.” 

𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦

She frowned slightly, taking his hands into hers “James, you sometimes talk to me about your nightmares right?” he nodded slightly ushering her to continue, “You have to slowly open up- it’s gonna help James. And If you want, I’ll go with you. I’ll wait in the waiting room- whatever it takes to get you to talk.”

She cared so much about him, it made her chest feel heavy. She would do anything for him.

𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨

He had spent nearly seventy years as someone else, he was afraid that after he erased his past it would still catch up to him someday. That he would still become the winter solider even after all this therapy and time away.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨

But you were there to reassure him that would never happen, that he was a good person and no longer the person he use to be. She was there to reassure him that he was James Buchanan Barnes and not the winter solider.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘺

You were the light in his darkness, you were there to guide him and to stay by his side. He thought you’d run away after what he had done to your grandparents but you’re there to remind him that he had no choice that HYDRA had control over him but you knew deep down he tried to fight it.

Bucky tugged his hands back quickly pulling away from the counter and walked around to engulf (Y/N) into a hug, he was afraid that if he were to allow himself to love someone they’d only end up hurt. He didn’t want to loose her, he didn’t want to scare you away.

“Please don’t leave.”

(Y/N) quickly shook her head, “Why would I leave? I would never leave you Bucky.” he pulled away slightly, did he hear that right? “Did you just call me Bucky?” her eyes widened, “Oh I’m so-” he cupped her cheeks closing the gap between the two placing capturing her lips. Something he had been waiting to do.

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺

It was exactly like how people described sharing a kiss with someone they’ve longed to be with, fireworks and butterflies the way your skin heats up and your cheeks turn into a tomato red.

(Y/N) wrapped her hand around his wrist pulling back slightly for air a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “Hello? Did you guys not here the door? Someone pay the guy!” Morgan carried the huge box of pizza and placed it onto her sisters lap before turning away to the living room. She quickly fetched her wallet wanting to beat Bucky from paying- but he knocked her wallet out of her hands and quickly rushed to the door.

She had given her sister a slice of pizza and ushered her to go back to the living room, “You make it seem as if I never saw people kiss before.” Morgan stuck her tongue out at her sister before returning to the living room.

“So-” Bucky began leaning against the doorway of the kitchen (Y/N) running up to him to wrap her arms around his neck the impact causing the two to fall to the ground with a loud thud. “You know- know a days people usually go on dates before the first kiss.” (Y/N) joked causing Bucky to smile, “Well in that case. (Y/N) would you like to go out tomorrow?” she quickly pecked his lips.

“I’d love to Bucky.”

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘈 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺

[bloodyblade]

Tremble For My Beloved [1]

Pairing: Thorin x Fem!Reader Summary: AU in which the daughter of a nobleman was running for her life after an orc attack, and after being welcomed under Gandalf's wings, joins the quest to reconquer Erebor. Sort of. Warnings: Mentions of violence and gore, a tiny bit sad. Word Count: 2.353 words.

[Ao3]

Chapter One.

The earth beneath your feet was shaking and trembling, or perhaps it was your legs that were too spent from running in a desperate and unprepared sprint. Entering a crumbling house, you hide behind a wall, standing on a crouch to be able to take a peek on the outside from the window. Holding the machete tightly to your chest, your eyes sweeped the hiding place you chose looking for possible exits.

Sweat was running down your face, lingering at the eyebrows and making their way down. Your heart was beating as strong and fast as a drum, you could feel it in your chest, throat and the sound in your ears. Harsh breaths were coming out silently as you could manage. You were trembling. Exhausted, scared and hurt. Dirt was accumulating under your fingernails along with specs of blood that also tainted the green dress you wore, shoes and thighs, finer than many could ever wish for, had its beauty and delicacy ruined. You looked ruined.

Your hair, that before was put in an intricate updo, was now almost completely loose and caked with sweat and blood that wasn’t yours. Askell, who you grew up having him as your shadow, died for you. He was your protector, always have been. A knight dedicated to you, before you could even walk and always accompanied you through your most important feats -learning how to walk, riding a horse for the first time and then falling epically on your ass, watching you from afar on your every name day. God, it was his blood on your hair, face, chest, dress. The blow was so hard on his head that he fell over you, who were behind him just like he demanded you should be. You scrambled back but part of his body landed on you, knocking you to the ground with him before you could push his body off, Askell’s heavy armour making everything even more difficult. Just as the enemy turned around, you finally managed to get free and balance your protector’s weapon by your side. It was pointy and shone under the candle lights, as if it had never been used before. Because it hasn’t, Askell never needed to. No one in your father’s state ever needed too.

But looking up and coming face to face to this… creature’s face, your blood ran cold. It was pale and ugly, uglier than any story could ever make up. So you got up at your fastest pace and with as much strength you could gather, took the knight’s weapon and ran. Ran until your lungs were on fire and felt like your deep, uneven breaths weren’t enough to keep your body going. Everything passed in a blur, as if your body alone knew what it was doing and so you dodge the fights and screaming and crying people, successfully making your way out of your forever home and the whole manor and what else it consisted of. As you slowed down, you ventured into a small city, knowing you must have ran a lot, for the city your caregivers always spoke of was certainly a few miles away.

And that’s how you found yourself where you are now. You didn’t look back in fear of what you could see and in fear of your enemies, which was most definitely a stupid decision but you couldn’t go back now. You knew your father had enemies, but never thought anyone would be so cruel to try and murder not just your family line but other nobles that were present at the feast your father was giving. Did someone hire them? Did your father somehow get on these creature’s bad side and leave them seeking revenge? How would dad even get in their way?

Don’t think about it. Those things didn’t matter, not anymore at least. Askell was dead, your father was most certainly dead right now and your mother died the moment you took your first breath. You heard how people would whisper that when you came out of your mother’s womb, you stole her breath and ultimately caused her death, and that it was a sign of a curse they were certain you carried: anyone to ever love you would most likely face an awful and painful death. So far, they weren’t wrong. Perhaps you were cursed.

You stayed alert for a while, besides the sounds of your now normalizing breaths, all you could hear were the sounds of nature that surrounded the place. Overgrown grass surrounded the house, allowing for all kinds of bugs to make home there. She could see the flickering soft light of the fireflies, hear the cicadas and buzz of wings that flew past your face, way too close for your liking. And you started to lose track of time, your legs growing tired from carrying your weight in the same position for too long. Slipping slowly towards the ground, you let yourself rest for a moment, closing your eyes and puffing a shaky breath past your lips. You were so tired. It felt like a fever dream, the people chatting and laughing and eating and mingling around. The sound of your father’s boisterous laughter ringing loud and accompanied by many others. A song played on the background softly, a few people fluttering on the ground with grace and kids running around, being chased and chatiest by their caretakers. Braids more intricate than others, some showing off and proudly stating their status, either as rich as piss or happily married, courting. Beads as beautiful and delicate than many could ever wish for. Gosh, you did wish to have one on her hair at some point in life. But now all that seemed so… shallow and unimportant.

How could such futile happiness become a bloodbath so quickly? Thankfully you didn’t see any children hurt and held ignorant hope that they managed to flee to somewhere safe. Gosh, you could hardly believe that, on her way there, she slashed one of the monsters, the hard blade buried itself on his shoulder as he screamed in rage and pain, blood trickling down it’s bare chest and after tugging once, twice to get it out of him, it’s blood rushed out like a horror story would detail, making him stumble and set its eyes on you form, but before he could do anything, you hit it with the machete hard on the knee, making him fall on his face. Although the goal was to kill it with a hard strike to his chest, the weight of the weapon didn’t allow you to do so. But this creature was the same that killed Askell, so you felt a hint of satisfaction to cause it enough damage to somehow avenge him.

But it’s not like you didn’t get hurt at all, you were no fighter, even if Askell did try to give you self defense classes with a smaller sword. Main word being try. You could manage, but doubted you could handle yourself in battle, but he assured you that you would never need to go into battle as long as you had him. Your hairline was definitely sore and the skin open, allowing a little blood to pool around and dirty your face worse than it already was. On your run, you tripped and fell on your hands and knees, getting your palms scrapped and pulsing with pain from the fall and having to carry a heavy weapon your unprepared hands were unused to.

And you waited for something, anything. But nothing came. Were they waiting for you to leave the place or go back to the manor? It was better to stay here until morning, wasn’t it? Probably, yes. So, with your knees to your chest, you put your head between them, allowing your body to relax a little and feeling yourself going a tiny bit slack, your machete close by your side.

If it weren’t from the footsteps on the house terrain, you would’ve fallen asleep for your eyes were heavy and mind fatigued. Standing up slowly and carefully, trying to step as lightly as elves would, you picked up your weapon and walked towards the front door. Whoever was outside, their steps were light, but not light enough that you couldn’t hear them. You could also notice how confidently they were walking, so it couldn’t be children either, and by the sounds of it, they were alone.

Your head was pounding and your hands were shaking again, you were reaching the peak of exhaustion. You held your breath as three knocks sounded one after the other on the door. After not giving any kind of response, the door opened slowly and creaked loudly and a tall, slim robbed figure stood at the door, against the moonlight only their silhouette can be seen.Holding the weapon in front of you with both hands, you took a fighting instance, or what you thought could be described as it.

“Reveal yourself.” You demanded with a slight tremble and agitation to your voice, only to have the figure step forward with a chuckle. It was a man, with a long staff and grey robes that reached the ground and covered the length of his body. And he was old, a long beard adorning his face. A pointed blue hat complemented his appearance, making him look like… like he wanted to seem like a wizard.

“Ah, I figured you would be here, Y/N daughter of Sindel, son of Serill.” The senile man began, walking closer so you make out his features. His beard was as long as she initially made out, and as white as his long hair, just like the scarf he wore. His bushy eyebrows framed his eyes, wrinkled due to the warm smile he was trying to convey.

“Who are you and how do you know my name? How do you know my father?” You asked, keeping yourself unmoving where you stood. He sighed deeply but didn’t let his lips turn any other way.

“I’m Gandalf, the grey.” He brought his unoccupied hand to his chest, introducing himself kindly, before letting it fall along with a sorrowful expression on his face. “I’m deeply sorry for your loss, but I vowed your father to take care of you should… the unexpected turn of events happened before time was right.” He motioned for you to lower your hands, and you did it hesitantly. If he wanted, he could’ve hit you that staff he was holding, but he probably needed aid to keep standing. He looked very old. “In fact, you’re not safe at all while you’re here, come.” He motioned for you to follow him as he turned around but you didn’t move an inch. How did he know your father and did this man owe him anything? Did you even know your father at all? He looked back at you, taking carefully your fear struck features and ratted clothes and understood. Of course he knew there was a slight possibility you didn’t know anything at all about who your father truly was but more importantly, who you truly were and just how important you are.

“How do you know you’re not one of them?” You finally voiced your main concern at the moment, Gandalf cocked his head to the side. “My… My family was murdered. How do I know you’re just trying to lure me out here so they can finish what they began?” You took another step back, waiting for an answer. He didn’t look exactly threatening but you couldn’t afford to trust anyone, not right now.

“Would that answer your question?” He asked as he handed you the object that was in his possession. Where did he get this? It was a dagger. Your mother’s dagger. One of the belongings she left for you, passed from mother to daughter in your family’s lineage. The design on the hilt was intricate and beautiful. It was rather dusty and had a few marks of use, but you were sure it would’ve been from her. Your father often told you how skilled she was, but never allowed you to use it. It was merely something decorative laying proudly on your nightstand. Until you lost it. You cried for days and dared not to tell your father, he would most likely be furious. Askell told you once how your parents knew your mother could possibly not survive after birth and how she separated and dedicated something for you, her first and only child. Your dad did ask you once about it, he probably already knew by them, but you decided to pretend everything was where it was supposed to be. Which was wherever you wanted it. That earned you a pointed and warning glare for him but you only smiled sweetly back then. Now you had a slight idea where it went.

And it could be a copy, a very good one, for there were several skilled blacksmiths your father knew about. If it weren’t for one detail, you would not have believed him: two designs on the blade. The vessels of the sun and moon. Your mother has always been so devoted to Mahal. Your eyes glazed over, but you didn’t allow yourself to cry. Straightening yourself, you looked at the man that was waiting patiently for you to analyze what was yours by right. You looked at him with determination and a chuckle left his lips as he smiled again.

“Come, let’s get you somewhere safe for the time being.” He beckoned you closer again and this time you obeyed.

“Where are you taking me?” You questioned as you looked around warily, searching silently with a calculated gaze for any threats. Night time was never kind for those endangered and that’s exactly what you were. You could trust him, maybe. But you didn’t know if you could protect yourself and the old man as well. What’s with the pointy hat anyway?

“Well, my dear,” he began, waiting for you to fall into step besides him “You most definitely are in desperate need of a shower.”

[rattyoakenbitch]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐰𝐧 ➳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯: . . 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩

— summary: after getting out of the storm, it just seems like the company keeps getting themselves into more and more trouble. they ultimately end up at the bottom of the mountain, all the way down in goblin town. they fight for their freedom, all the while aramina and her stubborn dwarvish leader, thorin, sort out their complicated relationship.

— warnings: fic will include smut, language, angst, ptsd, depictions of gore.

— pairings: thorin oakenshield x female oc (oc info here) masterlist

Aramina fell in and out of consciousness after the hard fall despite Thorin’s efforts to keep her shielded from the rough landing. Though she was barely able to stand, she was pulled on her feet, getting roughly dragged along by the Goblins. Thorin noticed her head fall back and limbs go limp several times, but the Goblins disregarded this and tugged her with them, some even slapping her awake, laughing while doing so. Thorin grunted at their harsh treatment. He wished he could move to the front to support Aramina in her weak state, but he too, just like the rest of The Company, was being held back and bound. 

The Company finally arrived before the Goblin king, who was sitting on his tiny throne that was crushed beneath his weight. After the Great Goblin finished his little song and received The Company’s opinions, he spoke, “Who are you?” The Goblin king started. “Spies? Thieves? Assassins?!” 

“Dwarves, your malevolence,” one Goblin spoke up as the Goblin king searched among The Company, Aramina catching his eye. As soon as the king gestured to her, the Goblins pulled her to the front. 

“And a Fawn! What a surprise,” the king chortled. “Now, wouldn’t she make a good little pet?” At that, three Goblins brought Aramina down on her knees, as another tied a collar-like chain around her neck, pulling her to the Goblin king’s side while she writhed around. She tried to shove the Goblins off her but all efforts were in vain. “See? Good pet!” the king mocked, tugging at Aramina’s ‘leash’. She gasped for air as the chain around her neck grew tighter with each pull, all while The Company watched in distress but could do nothing. Until.. 

“Do not touch her!” Thorin’s deep baritone voice echoed as he came forward into the Goblin king’s sight. Aramina looked up at Thorin, her gaze meeting his. A concerned expression was etched onto his face, but Aramina gave him a small reassuring smile. 

“Well, well, well! Look who it is! Thorin! Son of Thrain, Son of Thror,” The Goblin king announced, stooping down. “King Under the Mountain!” Then the Goblin king stood to his full height, looking down at Thorin with a smug smile playing on his lips. “Oh, wait! But I’m forgetting! You don’t have a mountain. And you’re not a king..” The Company cringed upon hearing the words spill from the so-called king’s mouth. “Which makes you.. nobody, really.”

“He’s more of a king than you ever will be,” Aramina snarled, resulting in getting her collar pulled to a tighter setting. She held her chest, coughing as she felt the air get knocked out of her lungs. Thorin looked at Aramina, then back at the Great Goblin.

“Let her go, or by my oath, I will kill you all,” Thorin said through gritted teeth. The king simply laughed and leaned back into his throne, his grip still on Aramina’s leash, twiddling with it teasingly. 

“I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head,” The king started. “Just a head! Nothing attached.” He smiled maliciously. “Perhaps you know of whom I speak. A pale Orc, astride a white Warg.”

Thorin looked up at the Goblin king intently, his chest rising and falling fast. “Azog the Defiler was destroyed.. He was slain in battle long ago!” His voice became shakier with each word. Could the Goblin king be telling the truth? The Great Goblin leaned in, his repulsive breath fanning against The Company’s face.

“So you think his defiling days are over, do you?” He turned to one of his minions, and with a chuckle, told it, “Send word to the pale Orc. Tell him; I have found his prize.” 

“Bones will be shattered! Necks will be wrung! You’ll be beaten and battered! From racks you’ll be hung..” The Great Goblin’s voice rang out, echoing against the stone walls. Aramina whimpered at both the irritating song and lack of breath. She felt her head become light, and neck grow numb. Her vision darkened and the surrounding noises became more and more faint. She was going to die. 

“Aramina!”

“Lassie, can you hear us?!”  

“Aramina, no!” Thorin’s voice shook her awake. She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes as he writhed around, trying to escape from the Goblin’s grasps and get to Aramina. The Goblin king looked between the two, laughing mockingly and yanked on the chains again, straining the collar around Aramina’s neck. 

“Aw, she’s special to you, is she?” The Goblin guffawed, watching Thorin’s expression change into a painful one as Aramina struggled to breath, her body growing weaker by the second. “It matters not. She will die like the rest of you.” His laughing was cut short when a Goblin pulled out Orcrist, promptly throwing it on the ground and scattering away from it. “I know that sword! It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!” The Goblin creatures surrounded The Company, jumping and pushing them to the ground. “Slash them! Beat them!” Thorin was especially whipped, and tackled with a dagger getting pointed to his neck. “Cut off his head!” 

A blast of light, followed by a gust of wind knocked the Goblins off, stunning them briefly. In the center of the clearing smoke, there Gandalf stood. “Take up arms. Fight!” When the Dwarves were out of their bonds and got ahold of their weapons, it was over for the Goblins. Left and right, they were slain mercilessly. As soon as Thorin got on his feet, he immediately made his way to Aramina. Thorin’s breath got caught in his throat as he feared the worst had happened. He kneeled by Aramina’s side, picking her up in his broad arms. 

“Aramina!” The chains around her neck were shattered in the explosion, but she didn’t stir. She laid almost lifeless in his hold, if it wasn’t for the slow rise and fall of her chest. “Aramina, wake up!” Despite the fight raging around him, Thorin didn’t leave Aramina until she showed any sign of consciousness. When she did, Thorin let out a sigh of relief. Her eyes fluttered open, instantly falling on Thorin. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Excuse me,” she coughed, still regaining her strength. “I almost died! But hey, it’s good to know you have feelings.”

Thorin couldn’t help but crack a smile. Aramina was back. “Can you walk?” Aramina’s eyes left Thorin’s face, drifting away to the battle behind him.

“Guess I don’t have a choice.” At that, Thorin picked her up as she clung to him weakly. 

“Stay close.”

“I can handle myself, Thorin. I’m not a baby,” Aramina claimed, despite her staggering and clumsiness. Oh yes, Aramina was back and still as snarky as ever. Thorin rolled his eyes at her.

“Be quiet! You may act like an ass later but first, let’s work on getting out of here.” 

The duo fought side by side, protecting and backing up one another despite having a nasty argument the same day. 

“And to think you wanted me gone not long ago,” Aramina said with a grunt while beheading several Goblins all in one swing.

“If you’ve forgotten,” Thorin started, still effortlessly fighting off the crowd of Goblins. “You were threatening to kill me, so who do you think is in the wrong?”

“I like to think I had a good reason to after your unfair treatment with the Hobbit--!” Aramina spun around to see Thorin on the ground, two small Goblins tackling him. She kicked the Goblins off into the depths below them and helped Thorin up. “Don’t worry; you come from a strong line of lunatics, your majesty. You’ll be fine.” Thorin grumbled at her remark, but brushed her off as they ran side by side, killing any and every Goblin in their path. Aramina raised her dagger at one particular Goblin, until said Goblin was pushed off into the cave below them by Thorin. “Hey, that was my kill, you numbskull!”

“Hm, such poison from a pretty mouth,” Thorin mused, causing Aramina to furrow her brows in annoyance, despite the blush forming on her face. Thorin noticed the blush on her pale skin, causing a small, smug smile to play on his lips despite the situation and clashing around them.

“Oh, don’t let this fuel your ego,” Aramina huffed, lunging forward to kill off the Goblins and clear The Company’s path. “My face is only red because you’re making me mad!”

“It’s not good to lie to yourself,” Thorin called from behind. Aramina scoffed.

“Keep up, old man!” 

Thorin growled, running after Aramina, determined to ‘win’ the race and establish his dominance instead of being treated like a kid playing a game. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t entertained and amused by Aramina’s childlike yet headstrong attitude. “I do not deem that fair! If I knew you were fully capable of running, I wouldn’t have helped you up!” The Company kept their pace as they ran through the Goblin tunnels, trusting that Gandalf knew the way out. The Company, especially Kili & Fili noticed the change of atmosphere between Aramina and Thorin considering they fought side by side, literally flirting while doing so. They were sure going to tease him for it afterwards. 

Just when they thought they had got away, the Great Goblin king stopped them in their tracks, blocking their escape. 

“You thought you could escape me?” He pushed Gandalf back with his scepter, “What’re you going to do now, wizard?!” Without giving Gandalf the chance to react, Aramina lunged forward and in one swift motion, kicked the Goblin king back and sliced his sagging throat open. The Goblin king paused, “That’ll do it.” His body collapsed onto the bridge, his weight bringing it down. The Company hung on tight as they rode the broken platform down the cave at an immense speed, hitting the bottom of the cave with a hard impact, yet miraculously surviving without any broken bones. 

“Well, that could have been worse!” Bofur exclaimed, shortly before the Goblin king’s body piled on top of them. “Oh, you’ve got to be joking me!” The weight of the Goblin king’s dead body and debris kept them down briefly, until the sight of a Goblin army charging at them shook them awake. “Gandalf!” The Company fought their way out of the rubble, turning to Gandalf. “There’s too many of them! We can’t possibly fight them all off!”

“Only one thing will save us.. Daylight!” The Company hurried out of the cave, but Thorin stayed behind to look for Aramina under the mess. He eventually found her small figure and pulled her out.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Thorin said, referring to the Goblin king. Aramina just scoffed in response.

“I was fully capable of kicking his ass. You needn’t worry about me.” 

“Aramina, don’t be a fool. You’re bleeding!” Aramina got to her feet and looked down, where the bloody outline of a shallow gash ran along her ribcage to her abdomen. 

“I’m fin--”

“Would you listen to me for a second?!”

“It’s been a second!”

They paused their petty argument, looking up at the Goblins getting nearer and nearer.

“Do you trust me?”

Aramina gulped. “Yes.” Thorin swept Aramina off her feet, securing her tightly in his arms as he carried her out the Goblin tunnels, running after The Company. Aramina couldn’t help but smile. “This is new.” Thorin rolled his eyes at her.

“Don’t get used to this, Aramina. We still have plenty to sort out.”

“Oh, be quiet. You don’t need to act so brash all the time,” Aramina huffed. “I try to lighten the mood and you still manage to hold a grudge against me!”

“You’re hurt, Aramina! I do not understand what’s so relieving about that!”

“Well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” The two kept quiet after that as they approached The Company, who noticed Aramina in Thorin’s arms. They wanted to smile and make a joke about it, until they realized Aramina was hurt. Thorin set her down on a rock and called Oin over. “Hold still, this may hurt,” he warned. Aramina braced herself, but the wound didn’t hurt as badly as she thought it would. Thorin came forward to talk to Aramina as soon as Oin was finished cleaning and patching her wound up.

“I would take back what I said in the cave,” Thorin apologized sincerely, a guilty expression crossing his face. “I realize I had gone too far with my words. Forgive me, Aramin--” Aramina threw her small arms around Thorin’s slightly larger figure, engulfing him in a tight hug. She pulled away shortly after to get a good look at Thorin, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I would say the same.. T-Thank you for saving my life.. Even after I threatened to take yours,” she stammered. “Well, I mean, I never would have killed you over a petty argument in the first place--!” Thorin cut her off with a laugh at her awkwardness. Aramina pursed her lips, huffing. “Well, I’m glad I was able to squeeze a laugh out of you. You should do it more often-- I mean you should laugh more often! You know you’ll get forehead creases if you’re always brooding!”

- - - ♡ taglist ♡ - - - @tschrist1​

[ladyideal]

This is Us Chapter 3

Pairing: Legolas x OC!Reader

Word Count: 3414

Summary: When the One Ring was found, it becomes a journey across Middle Earth to destroy it. Watch as the Fellowship is formed, and crossed the continent, where loyalty will be tested, and love will blossom at the most unexpected places.

A/n: Look at that, 2 chapters in one week! This one is thankfully longer, same with the next one. And the next, and the next after that... Also the cave troll fight was a pain in the ass to write.

Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4

"The Mines are no place for a pony, even one so brave as Bill," Aragorn spoke the moment they arrived in front of the Doors of Moria.

"I'm gonna miss him," You spoke, watching fondly as the Ranger unhitched the pony's bridle.

"He'll be missed," The Ranger agreed.

"Buh bye Bill," Sam called out.

"Go on, Bill, go on. Don't worry Sam, he knows the way home," Aragorn spoke, watching as the pony clip clopped down the shore. By the time the Fellowship climbed from down the mountain, night had fallen. 

Legolas sidled up to you. "Yare indóme tye nimeár- ilquen i tye're a Melain?" (When will you tell everyone that you're a Valar?)

You didn't answer, couldn't answer as Alena had shuffled up close to you at the exact same time the elf spoke. Not able to answer, you shot a glare at him and shook your head. 

Not yet. Not this early. 

"The Walls of Moria!" Gimli explained, halting in front of the doors. He frowned immediately when his axe clanged against the stone, not exactly knowing how to open the tall slab of rock. "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed."

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten," Gandalf huffed out, tapping his staff too.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas rolled his eyes, making the dwarf grumble wordlessly. You shared a grin with Alena at the bickering. 

"Now let's see. Ithildin-," Gandalf thought out loud. As the company relaxed, you watched as Frodo's leg splashed loudly into the pool of water just outside the supposed doors of Moria. 

"Careful Frodo," Aragorn warned. 

"It mirrors only starlight and moonlight," The wizard suddenly announced, turning to you with a knowing look. 

You nodded, and avoiding Alena's questioning glance, looked up at the sky. Almost immediately, the dark clouds parted away for the moon and the stars above. For a moment, you let yourself be homesick as the lights in the night sky danced happily in their brilliance. The silver lines grew bright, outlying a door formed of two columns beneath an arch, with a star in the center.

"Wow," You heard someone say. 

"It reads 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter," Gandalf translated. 

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry piped up.

"It's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open," The grey wizard paused. "Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen!" (Gate of the Elves, open now for me!)

Nothing happened. 

"Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen," He tried again. (Doorway of the Dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue.)

"Nothing's happening," Pippin frowned. 

You too were stumped. One glance around the Fellowship, and you could tell that you weren't the only one. 

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves, Men, and Orcs."

"What are you going to do then, Gandalf?"

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words," Gandalf huffed out in annoyance.

Sitting on the shores of the water, the Fellowship sprawled around in relaxation. While Gandalf muttered different phrases, Merry and Pippin took turns throwing stones into the lake. Alena sat beside you, sharpening her sword, as you fiddled around with your arrows. 

"Ando Eldarinwa, a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa" (Gate of Elves, listen to my word, Threshold of Dwarves)

"Stop Merry, Pippin," Aragorn ordered, observing the lake as it rippled.

"What?" The hobbits paused.

"Do not disturb the water."

"Oh, it's useless!" Gandalf sat down beside Frodo, done for the moment.

"Aragorn!" Boromir called out in warning, as the rest of the company glanced at the increasing ripples of the waters. 

"It's a riddle," Frodo suddenly stood up. "Speak 'friend' and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?"

"Mellon," Legolas answered.

The stone doors slowly swung open, rumbling deeply. Curiously, the Fellowship entered Moria through the newly gaping entrance. As the wizard reached into his robes, you stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"Use mine, it'll glow longer," You offered a crystal. 

Gandalf regarded you for a quick moment, but gently grabbed it from your palm. Placing a crystal into the top of his staff, the rest followed the wizard in. Aragorn followed last, casting one last distrustful glance at the water.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin," Glimli excitedly spoke. "And they call it a mine. A mine!"

"This is no mine," Boromir slowly spoke. "It's a tomb!" 

The light from the staff glowed brighter, illuminating the space around them. Cobwebs and bones covered every part on the floor, old and withering weapons littered around, dried blood could be found, and a filthy smell lingered in the air.

"Yuck," Alena muttered.

"Goblins!" Legolas examined an arrow from a fallen Dwarf, pulled it out, and casted it aside in disgust. The four Hobbits back towards the door. Something stirred in the water behind them.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here," Boromir shook his head. 

"Now get out of here, get out!" Alena shouted from the back. 

The rest of the company ran for the door. Suddenly, Frodo was grabbed from behind and pulled off his feet by a long, snaking tentacle. "Help!!"

"Aragorn!"

"Frodo!"

The watching creature at the gate released Frodo, and feigned disappearance under the waters. Suddenly, many tentacles sprung out of the water, slapping the other Hobbits aside and grabbing Frodo around the leg. He was pulled out and over into the air.

You cursed, and headed back the way you came in, ready to help. Yet, Legolas was faster than you. He ran back out onto the shore and started shooting. One of his arrows pierced a tentacle that was wrapping itself over Frodo's face.

"Strider, help!" The hobbit cried out.

Boromir, Alena, and Aragorn rushed to the water and started attacking the beast. It flung Frodo wildly in the air. Despite the Fellowship's efforts, the Hobbit was lowered towards a gapping maw in the water, ringed by fangs, set in a gilled face.

Finally arriving, you joined in the fight, aiming your arrows towards its head, in a futile attempt to injure the fell beast. Aragorn sliced through the tentacle holding Frodo, who fell into Boromir's waiting arms.

"Into the Mines!" Gandalf roared.

"Legolas! Y/N!" The Captain called as he and the two Rangers retreated. Running with Frodo in his arms, he ran into the gates as as a huge tentacle uncoiled a hand-like appendage, snaking after them. 

You and Legolas both aimed, and watched as the two arrows both hit their marks. With both eyes of the beast struck, it recoiled with a painful roar of pain and anger. 

"Run!"

Needing no other encouragement, you pulled Legolas towards the entrance. As the sea creature reached out once more, it teared the gates shut. Slabs of rocks dropped and the roof of the passageway caved in. The Fellowship stared back at one another as the last rays of moonlight disappeared behind.

"We now have but one choice," Gandalf spoke as the group caught their breaths. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs, in the deep places of the world."

You sucked in a gap, understanding his words. Could there be older enemies from even all the way back when the First Age started? Nodding anyways, you followed the wizard as he started his trek. "How long does it take to reach the other side?"

"It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed," The Maiar answered quietly. You shook your head, it was going to be a long walk of silence filled with only your own terrified thoughts.

It was awhile, you didn't exactly how long had passed, before Gandalf halted the group in front of a cavern that led to a crossroads in the mine: three doorways loomed before them. The wizard glanced from one to the other and back.

"I have no memory of this place."

You groaned silently, but indicated for the company to sit and rest. 

Seeing a small figure leaping from stone to stone, a startled Frodo walked over to where Gandalf was leaning against a boulder.

"There's something down there!"

You rose an eyebrow.

"It's Gollum."

"Gollum?"

"He's been following us for three days."

"He escaped the dungeons of Barad-Dûr!"

"Escaped? Or was set loose?" Gandalf eyed the creature. "And now the Ring has drawn him here. He will never be rid of his need for it. He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself."

Some of the company, including you, watched as Gollum raised his head, eyes piercing through the darkness of the hall.

"Sméagol's life is a sad story. Yes, Sméagol he was once called. Before the Ring was found, before it drove him mad," The wizard quietly explained.

"It's a pity my uncle Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance!" 

"Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?"

"Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise can not see all ends," You spoke out from beside Alena, watching as the young hobbit studied the floor with a sudden interest.

"My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill before this is all over," Gandalf spoke over Gollum's songs. "The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."

"I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened, Gandalf."

"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, in which case you also were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought," Gandalf glanced at you again, but stood up. "Oh! It's that way."

"He's remembered!" Merry spoke.

As the Fellowship started down a dark stairway that the wizard pointed at, he placed his hat back on. 

"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

You rolled your eyes at the words, but followed after Legolas to descend the stairway. 

"Behold! The great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

His staff illuminated a giant stone hall with tall pillars and arched ceilings.The Fellowship walked forward and through the hall, peering around a column. Seeing a ray of sunlight shining through a chamber, Gimli gasped and ran towards it without another thought.

Bodies and weapons scattered about it. The Dwarf stopped and kneeled by a crypt in the center of the room. A shaft of light illuminated through. Gandalf peered curiously at the tomb's surface, while the rest of the Fellowship observed the white bones of dead dwarves and enemies.

"No! No! No!" Gimli wailed, sobbing.

"'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead then. It's as I feared," The wizard grimly translated the runes, looking around the small chamber.

Giving his staff and hat to Pippin, he bent down, and took a large and battered book from a corpse's hands. He opened it, clearing the dirt from its pages.

"They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes," He read out loud, as Gimli peered up at the tall Maiar.

Pippin backed away slowly, as Gandalf continued. 

"Drums, drums, in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out."

You glanced nervously at Legolas, then at Alena, then back to the elf again. Even he held a grim look on his face as he nervously grabbed his bow as though for reassurances.

The silence was broken by Pippin. Curiously, he reached out and lightly twisted the arrow within the corpse. The skull slipped off, falling into the well with a resounding crash, dragging with it a chain and bucket. Gandalf whipped around at the sound, including everyone else and towards the guilty hobbit. Noise echoed from hall to hall far below, as Pippin winced at each wave of noise.

You groaned, and threw your hands up in defeat. The others shook their heads, and scowled.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf roughly slammed the tome shut. Pulling his hat and staff from the Hobbit's hands, he turned away. Pippin stood still awkwardly.

Until the drums sounded. 

"Orcs!" Legolas notched an arrow as the team scrambled to get into position with their weapons. 

"Hobbits, stay close to Y/N. Alena, with me," Aragorn ordered, drawing his own sword.

As Boromir rushed to the doors to have a look, arrows hissed into the door near his face. Too close of a comfort, as a matter of fact. A bellow was heard from just outside.

"They have a cave troll," He announced in sarcastic relief.

"Wonderful," You grumbled, grabbing an arrow from your back and readied your aim at the door.

Creatures began hacking the doors down. Weapons crashed through splintering spaces, creating little gaps just small enough for an arrow to sing through. When the first clear gap was gashed in the door, Legolas let go of his arrow, earning himself  a shrill cry from the other side. The Elf quickly notched another to his bow as you shot another.

Suddenly, the fell beasts broke through and the battle begand. A wave of armor-clad Orcs charged towards the Fellowship, who happily engaged the Orcs head on. While you and Legolas pierced Orcs with your arrows, Aragorn, Alena, and Boromir smashed their swords against the enemy. Gimli caught one in the stomach with his axe. 

With a loud roar, Gandalf launched himself into the fray with his sword, and the Hobbits huddled close to you, swords drawn and ready to fight. Aragorn beheaded an Orc, and black blood spewed forth. Suddenly Sam paused in the heat of battle, his attention drawn upwards.

"Here comes the cave troll, " Legolas shouted cheerfully beside you, as you and him sent endless volleys into the battle. You swung your head back to the entrance just when the cave troll smashed through the hallway. 

"Thanks mellon," You replied cheekily. "Certainly enjoy being dramatic."

Legolas shot the cave troll in the shoulder, growling at your words, while the beast roared and clapped a hand to its wound. Sam continued to stare, frozen, as the troll swung his mace down at the Hobbit. At the last minute, he dived under the troll's legs and crawled in vain away as the troll turned, sighting him again.

"Sam!" You hollered, sliding protectively in front of the hobbit, shooting the troll's shoulders.

As the beast raised his arm to strike, he suddenly fell back. Aragorn and Boromir appeared behind the troll, pulling on its chains. Twisting its arm, the troll whipped Boromir across the chamber, landing in a recess of the wall, dazed.

You cursed under your breath as an orc towered above the Captain, ready to strike him down. When across the room, Aragorn slung his blade into the Orc's neck, and although still dazed, the Ranger pulled him up. While Gimli sliced the troll with his axe, Legolas stood in the corner, shooting another two arrows at the troll, forcing it to reel back in pain. Orcs streamed in, and you slid out your sword.

"Stay behind!" You called to the hobbits behind you. Whether they were behind you or not was one thing, but with the endless enemies, you could only do so much. The troll swung his chains above his head again at Legolas who dodged it. As the chain wrapped around a pillar, the elf shot the troll in the back of the head and jumped off. 

As a result, the troll cringed, flattening its fellow orcs as it stumbled around in pain. Once recovered, The troll brought his mace down at the other Hobbits, causing them to jump aside. Now separated from Merry and Pippin, the troll seeked out Frodo, who tried to evade by hiding behind a pillar.

"Frodo!" Half of the Fellowship yelled, now fighting back in earnest to reach the hobbit.

Not being able to see him, it peered around the other side, causing Frodo to dodge out of its vision. Once it disappeared, the young hobbit carefully looked around the pillar. For now the troll was gone, and took a deep breath.

"Roar!" The troll blasted around the pillar, bellowing in Frodo's face. The Hobbit stumbed, and fell into a corner of the room. The troll grabbed him, and dragged him off of the edge of a recess. "Aragorn? Aragorn!"

"Frodo!"

Remembering that he still had Sting in hand, the hobbit wildly slashed the troll's hand. The fell beast instinctively dropped him to the ground, twisting his injured hand and staring at it. As Frodo laid on the floor, frozen in fear, his eyes widened at the impending doom.. It raised its mace and began to swing, but Aragorn leaped down into the recess as Legolas let go of his arrows aimed at the troll.

Although Pippin and Merry did their best by throwing stones at the troll's head, it swung his arm down. This time, hitting Aragorn, which sent him flying across the room. 

With an oof, he collapsed onto the floor. Frodo raced after the fallen Ranger and tried to rouse him, but to no avail.

"Aragorn!" Alena screamed, pushing back the orcs with her dual bladed swords. 

"Frodo no!" You echoed, slitting an orc's throat without another thought and trying to slog over where Aragorn laid.

The hobbit began to run, but the troll blocked his path with its spear, throwing him back. As if in slow mo, you and the company watched with wide eyes and half uttered screams, as the troll took aim and stabbed Frodo in the chest.

As the company stared in shock, the troll too seemed amazed at its own work.

Merry and Pippin glanced at each other and their faces appeared resolved. They leaped onto the beast, stabbing him mercilessly. "For Frodo!"

"Frodo?" Sam rushed to the fallen hobbit. "Frodo!"

Broken from their shocked trance, Aragorn, Alena, you, Boromir, and Gandalf fought with mad vigor in order to reach the Hobbit.

The troll flailed at its head and grabbed Merry, swinging him around and throwing him to the ground. While you, Gandalf, and Gimli took turns stabbing at the troll and dodging out of range, Legolas took aim.

With Pippin stabbing it in the head, the troll opened its mouth. Taking the chance, Legolas shot his arrow upwards and into the brain. With a long, pained moan, the troll collapsed to the ground, finally dead. There was a moment of silence as the remaining enemies fled.

You rushed to Frodo first before anyone else did. Gently, Aragorn rolled the hobbit over, but immediately stilled as he gasped for breath. 

"He's alive!" Alena exclaimed. With that announcement, the company sighed in relief. 

"I'm all right, I'm not hurt." Frodo croaked.

"You should be dead! That spear would have skewered a wild boar," Aragorn sheathed his sword away. 

Gandalf hummed in agreement. "I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye."

Slowly, Frodo lifted his shirt up. Immediately, the mithril chain mail shirt glimmered in the faint light. You raised an eyebrow at the surprise. 

"Mithril! You are full of surprises, Master Baggins." Gimli gasped, taking in the familiar substance that his race grew rich upon. 

"Hate to disrupt," Boromir cut in, at the broken doorway again. "But there are still orcs here."

Faintly in the background, you could hear the movements, and the Fellowship straightened up. After Aragorn pulled Frodo to his feet, he turned to Gandalf.

"To the bridge?"

"To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

Permanent Tags: @asraime @mournthewicked

Taglist is open for those interested!

[brownjet-archive]

Cheeky

Pairing: Legolas x (f)Reader  (SORRY!!!)

Summary: Legolas decided to be a little cheeky ;)

Word Count: 1,500+

A/N: Yeah, so it’s super short cause it seemed to end well and I’ve been working on this since I was like 12 and idk how to continue, so here ya go. Okay, so I always see super fluffy Legolas fics, but no, he’s a sassy little ass, so here, have some sassy little Legolas

Warnings: Everyone has a fucking ugly laugh, man. Also,,,,,,lots of swearing

Masterlist

Traveling with the fellowship, albeit terribly enjoyable (despite the intentions behind everything) was still awfully annoying. Especially when it meant that you were surrounded completely by men. You had no problem with it, it’s just that after awhile it became very emotionally taxing. Especially when it meant that there was only time for one group of people to bathe, more often than not, that being everyone else, because they drastically outnumbered you.

It also didn’t help that your sole focus on this mission was being the medic. It was the only way you could volunteer yourself, not having any particular amazing heritage or incredibly valuable skill set. Not to say that you weren’t a good fighter, no. You were definitely amazing in combat, being more agile and nimble than the rest (except for a certain Elf prince), despite the fact that outside of combat, you have the tendency to trip on air. They all knew what an asset you were, although it often slipped their minds that such a quiet and meek-ish human was essential to their journey, often taking you for granted.

But no more. You had a plan. Which, now thinking about it, probably wasn’t gonna work. You let out an audible sigh at the realization of how unrealistic your plan was, and that you had bigger things to worry about.

Only Sam seemed to have heard you, running slightly, to catch up to you, offering you a look of sympathy. Sam Gamgee and you understood each other, both being seen as the weak links, despite the both of you knowing that the well-being of the Fellowship rested on the both of your shoulders.

“What’sa matter?” He asked, slightly panting, despite all the travel, still not completely comfortable with the amount of trekking the group of you seemed to do.

“Sick ‘n tired of not bein’ taken seriously.” You muttered, your words slightly slurred from exhaustion and over-exertion.

He gave you a small smile, his eyes full of sympathy. “Believe me, I understand completely.” He said, with his cute little hobbit accent poking through.

You returned his smile, resting your arm on his shoulder. “I keep telling ya, Samwise Gamgee, that the two of us needa get drunk once, together.” You said jokingly, boisterous laughs escaping from the both of you, only replaced by wheezing as you continued your trek up the steep slope, lingering slightly behind Gilmi and Legolas, both of who were bickering, as usual.

The two of you continued up in silence, being with the only person who truly understood you. You straightened your back slightly, your back protesting slightly in pain from the weight it caused to move your backpack from your back to your shoulders, though you ignored it, looking up for a clearing of the rocky terrain where the lot of you could hopefully rest for the night. You caught sight of a clearing, about another hundred or so feet up, your back instantly hunching over to accommodate the weight of your backpack.

“Legolas.” You wheezed out slightly, unsure of if the elf would hear you, though he surprisingly turned around, looking at you with unsure eyes, which seemed to pierce deep throughout your soul.

Not wanting to deal with the oddly intimidating stare of your companion, you motioned with your head, towards the slight clearing, his eyes looking over to where you had motioned, before giving you a curt nod, motioning the clearing to Aragorn, who was loitering in the back with the remaining hobbits.

Legolas and Gilmi, who had been in front of you, were currently running up the steepening slope, Legolas reaching the top in mere moments, his shorter and stouter companion, wheezing slightly and muttering curses under his breath at the prince.

Grumbling angrily, you followed behind them, muttering darkly about the damn showoff of an elf. You knew that it would take you a bit longer to reach the top, about five minutes or so, and seeing the blonde elf grin down at you cockily made you even more frustrated, mumbling many swears, not remembering that Sam was beside you, who now looked very concerned for you, but decided not to question it.

It seemed that your anger and grit had slowed you down, the rest of the fellowship passing you, to your dismay on your way up. Grumbling at them each, you continued, dumping your pack on the ground as soon as you had made it to the clearing, glaring at them all, amused looks on all of their faces.

“What seems to be the problem, Miss (Y/N)?” Gandalf asked rather kindly.

“You’re all bloody stupid! And fucking annoying!” You snapped at him, feeling instantly bad, and apologizing profusely to the wizard.

“What did we do that was so bad?” Sam asked, his eyes wide, and looking full of hurt.

Your heart seemed to crush at his pitiful look, your anger evaporating. “No, not you, Sam. You’re an angel.” You said rather truthfully, wanting to hug him, always seeing him as a younger brother, despite him being a few decades older than you.

“And I suppose the rest of us are as bad as the Orcs.” Legolas said, his voice challenging and calculated as always, though sounding a bit boisterous.

“I’d rather take on an army of orcs than deal with you right now.” You spat out, glaring at him, his stupid smirk unwavering.  

“You couldn’t take on an army of orcs by yourself.” He said, stating it simply, as if it were fact.

You gasped audibly, rage taking over, and instinctively, you grabbed for your dagger, tucked away in your boot, bringing it up to rest at the base of his throat in one smooth and swift motion, the stupid elf not even flinching.

“I’ll have you know that I am very capable, Mister Prince Elf of Mirkwood.” You spat out, your face contorted in anger. You removed your dagger from his throat, placing it back in its sheath, hidden in your boot.

“I never said I doubted you, Miss (Y/N).” He said, mockingly, repeating Gandalf’s words.

"You're infuriating!" You screeched, ready to launch yourself onto him and punch him in his stupidly perfect face. Feeling red hot fury flow through your veins, your hands forming unnaturally tight fists, your knuckles turning white, little angry crescent marks etching themselves onto your palms, your entire body visibly shaking with anger.

You turned away from his infuriating smirk, trying to regain control of your emotions, hearing his amused little chortle. You took a deep breath in, trying to ignore him. “Let’s just make the stupid camp.” You said, your emotions doing a complete 180, exasperation and exhaustion returning to your body like old, unwanted friends.

Ignoring your companions, you tended to setting up the campfire, to provide some warmth and maybe cooked food. Oh, it had been so long since you had warm food. Or just food in general. You had grabbed some firewood, and had set up the small little fire pit, all of this managing to help you calm down.  

The entirety of the makeshift camp had been set up in a few minutes, the fire pit being no exception. However, you started to feel annoyance build up after five minutes of attempting to start a fire, earning a snicker from one of your comrades, practically feeling his eyes on the back of your neck.

“You’re going to have to learn how to set a fire properly.” Legolas said from behind you, standing on a boulder, his eyes dancing with amusement, his voice laced with amusement.

“Oh, and why is that?” You asked, annoyed and frustrated, looking up from your lack of fire, your eyes cold and hard.

“Because how can you be expected to be betrothed to an elf and not know how to start a proper fire?” He asked knowingly, his words dripping with cockiness.

You stared at him for a few minutes, utterly confused and positive that he had rattled something loose with all the happy running he did, before the gears in your brain started to move, saying the most intelligible thing that came to mind, “Hah?”

A smirk made its way onto his face, before he leaned down, bringing his face dangerously close to yours. “You like me.” He said, rather cheekily, before standing up to full height, smirking as you spluttered, trying to find an appropriate response for what had just happened.

Feeling even more confused, you opened your mouth and closed it, gaping at him, before you tilted your head to the side, repeating your same confusion from earlier. “Hah?”

You like him!? The idea was preposterous!

“You like him.” You heard Boromir say, obviously uninterested, from where he was perched on a rock, not looking up.

You turned to gape at him, standing up from your crouched position, feeling wildly and thoroughly confused. “Why would I like this ass!?” You asked, a little too excited, feeling too many things to process at the moment.

“Because you do.” The hobbits added, you gasping in shock when even Sam, betrayed you.

“I do not!” You said rather indignantly, choosing to ignore the large smirk on Legolas’ face, watching you try not to explode.

“I hate to say this, because you’re a good lass, but you do like the elf.” Gilmi agreed reluctantly.

“Since when did this become ‘shit on (Y/N)’ day?” You asked, feeling rather mad that you had been all ganged up on. “Besides, all he does is annoy me! I don’t like him!” You cried out, rather indignantly, though the more you said it, the more it sounded like a lie, and you were hating that.

“Then what do you like?” Aragorn asked, softly and rather calculated, seeming uninterested.

You opened your mouth, before closing it slightly, before blurting it out, not really thinking any of this through. “Infuriating perfection. Like when someone is so perfect, but it also makes me want to knock their teeth out.” You only realized as soon as the words had come out of your mouth, the wall that you had been backed into.

Loud laughs emitted the entire group, much to your dismay, and continued despite your indignant hisses of ‘I don’t like him!!’

[garden-ghoul]

ITS TIME FOR two blogs part 6 or something

“there’s one SUPER loud frog in the moat outside my room tonight”

now let’s take a moment to gaze into

THE PALANTIR

Merry is tiiiiiired. He’s really just a young teen, holy shit. He’s also a little cranky at some perceived slight during the talk with Saruman that I didn’t make note of. Gandalf comforts him by telling him that Saruman is probably confused and furious about his continued existence. “haha, okay,” says Merry, “but um when are we stopping?” Then there’s some, uh, other stuff. And Gandalf says:

‘There was some link between Isengard and Mordor, which I have not yet fathomed. How they exchanged news I am not sure.’

Guys. Last chapter he picked up the palantir and was like “Pippin this is really dangerous don’t touch it.” He definitely KNOWS what a palantir is, if he’s worth his hat. ???? COME ON DUDE WORK IT OUT

Pippin wants a look at that palantir so muchhhhhh. He can’t sleep. He’s squirming. He bugs Merry about it, and Merry tells him to go to sleep. “I'm sorry, Pippin, but you really must wait till the morning. I'll be as curious as you like after breakfast, and I'll help in any way I can at wizard-wheedling.” Wizard-wheedling! What a sport! Anyway how weird is it that basically every powerful magic artifact is full of bewitchment. Is it just because most of the ones we know of are subject to Sauron’s will?... or is it because magic is inherently corrupting? Like, look at Gandalf. Basically his whole thing is to use magic as little as possible. He’s practically a witch! Saruman wizarded it up with magic and look where it got him! Nomads are morally superior! This is some Cain and Abel shit!

...so Pippin steals that palantir from a probably-sleeping Gandalf. We get no description of what he sees in it, just that he is spasming and yelling frightfully.

'It is not for you, Saruman!' he cried in a shrill and toneless voice shrinking away from Gandalf. 'I will send for it at once. Do you understand? Say just that!'

Bro. Is Sauron speaking out of his mouth right now. Is that what is happening. This is rather frightening! But Gandalf after finding out that Pippin didn’t do too much damage to their cause is very kind and gentle. Presumably Sauron will think the Ring is at Orthanc and not look for it closer to home. I really like Gandalf telling Pippin to just say something if he gets a magical compulsion. A witch can help! Also now that I’m thinking of Gandalf as a witch I’m imagining if Granny Weatherwax had his place in the story. It would be so good y’all, she would like try to take Sauron on head to head and nearly become like Saruman but she’d stop herself at the very last moment... It’s a good crossover come talk to me about it later.

At that moment A NAZGUL flies overhead, and Gandalf jumps to his feet and basically shouts “every man for himself!!” Geez man be cool. He picks Pippin up and rides... not hell for leather. Detroit for leather maybe, or one of those cities that everyone jokes about being halfway to hell. And he sings this song that has made me feel a Thing. I had to sing it. Ignore the crap audio quality, my computer’s mic is awful. 

Gandalf explains the palantiri. It means... Television. In Quenya I guess, Gandalf said Feanor might have made them. 

‘Easy it is now to guess how quickly the roving eye of Saruman was trapped and held; and how ever since he has been persuaded from afar, and daunted when persuasion would not serve. The biter bit, the hawk under the eagle's foot, the spider in a steel web!’

This entire chapter is SO aesthetic. Gandalf talks a little about what might happen to Saruman when the Nazgul finds him; and now “every stride of Shadowfax bears us nearer to the Land of Shadow.” Yep that’s his true purpose. To fax people to the land of shadows. Fast as electricity! Um but yeah Pippin’s off to Minas Tirith. I wonder why...

Well, Gandalf’ not talking, here just before BOOK FOUR begins. Now let’s hear about something completely unrelated!

THE TAMING OF SMEAGOL

Ohhh the entire second book of the Two Towers is gonna be Sam and Frodo maybe? I want it to be more spread out, I don’t know if I can take so much depression all in a row. And that depression: Sam and Frodo are not having a pleasant time in the Emyn Muil. Hell. Emyn Muil might be my favorite name in the legendarium. It’s SO fun to say. I’m also very fond of Minas Ithil and Ossiriand. No, focus. The hills suck, is the thing. It’s like hiking in Canyonlands National Park, except upsetting difficult instead of fun difficult, because our friends are being chased by orcs and a magical evil eye. They end up by this cliff and Sam, who doesn’t want to climb it, immediately hefts himself over the edge to stop Frodo from having to climb down first.

'No, no! Sam, you old ass! ' said Frodo. `You'll kill yourself for certain going over like that without even a look to see what to make for. Come back! ' He took Sam under the armpits and hauled him up again.

(crying gently) I love Frodo Baggins. A strong old man. A Nazgul comes and screams at Frodo while he’s climbing down, and for some reason this makes him go temporarily blind. He snaps at Sam again (but in kind of an endearing way?) and Sam gets out his rope. Also it’s raining now. Frodo really is a strong old man! He helps Sam climb down by partially just lowering him down the cliff. And then he climbs down himself with no help. Sam is sad to leave behind this Good Good Rope, but as it turns out elf rope is a faithful dog and comes when called. Sam strokes it lovingly. A good boy.

As our hobbits are trying to sleep, they spot Gollum crawling down a cliff (head-first, for extra creepiness factor). Gollum fails in his weird climbing method and falls down, and Sam immediately pounces on him. Oh Sam. Be not so full of hatred, it’s kinda scary. Sam gets a bit hurt for his boldness, and Frodo menaces Gollum with his sword. But he takes pity and makes Gollum promise to come along with them. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer! No, closer. Closer.

Close enough that when they think you’re finally asleep and they try to run off you can still spring on them and tie them up with fine elvish rope! Yes, that’s close enough. But the rope burns him. Frodo makes him swear to “obey the master of the Precious,” which is honestly an oath full of holes even if he actually does keep it.

Frodo calls him Smeagol, now.

[aledethanlast]

7 writing tips to keep in mind for science fiction and fantasy

1. We can get to the plot right after I run some errands

“We must defeat Voldemort, save the wizarding world, and finish our homework.” -The plot of every single Harry Potter book

In general, the main plot of the story will not be the sole focus of your characters’ attention. They have relationships to maintain, personal goals to achieve, and sometimes just plain rest. Most of the tension in the story will likely evolve from moments where the characters must address both plot problems and personal probblems at the same time. This is doubly important if the characters are trying to keep the facade of normalcy.

There needs to be a certain level of balance. Too much plot, and we don’t get a good sense of character. Too much routine and the plot feels forced.

When designing a character, be mindful of what their lives looked like before the story, how that life would be disrupted by the story, and what would the character do with their life after the story (assuming they live).

2. Murphy’s law of obstacles: If it’s not your enemies on purpose, then it’s your friends by accident.

Character: Frodo Baggins. Objective: Get the ring to mordor. Superficial obstacles: Sauron’s dark army, giant spiders, various douchebags he meets along the way. Actual obstacles: The ring is corrupting Frodo’s mind, gollum is trying to screw them all over at every turn, Gandalf is a cryptic piece of shit, Aragorn needs to help them raise an army to distract Sauron, which is hard enough becuase the guy isn’t even sure if he wants to be king, Saruman is acting like your cousin who took a political science course last semester and now thinks he’s fucking Machiavelli, etcetera, etcetera.

Adventures are complicated because there’s always multiple things going on at once. This quest would be simple, except this supporting character has a completely different goal and has no issue with screwing everybody over. This friendship would be awesome, except their mutual crush just died violently and each of them blames the other. This character could leave the town, if only the war he thought of as far away hadn’t come right to his doorstep.

This is how good plot twists happen. Storylines that have up until now run separate meet in the worst/best way possible. This is often combined with the infamous what could possibly go wrong.

3. Inflation of the competence economy.

“Because he’s Batman” -Fake nerds everywhere

You have your characters. They’re badasses, the best in the business, absolutely unstoppable, every single one of them. They’ve so far beaten everyone who’s tried to stand in their way. Yet somehow they’re also the underdog.

Your problem is simple: you have no frame of reference of what is within or outside of your heroes’ capabilities, and since their gains are more frequent than their losses, the reader will just assume that the protagonist is going to pull the victory out of their ass like they always seemingly do.

Coming back to the Batman example: Batman follows this rule very closely, closer than many other comic heroes, but he appears to be invincible because he’s tirelessly worked to build that reputation. Batman get the shit beaten out of him all the time, but he’s known in pop culture to be unstoppable because he does his job so well that it often seems effortless.

The solution, naturally, is to give your characters limitations. Scenes where they’re expected to preform some amazing feat but instead take one look and say “Not happening.” Scenes where they underpreform at what they’re supposedly good at. You can stretch the boundaries of what is possible, but don’t break them.

4.  Limitations > Powers

“We’ll use the force!” “That’s not how the force works!” -The Force Awakens

The title of this one is actually Brandon Sanderson’s second law of magic, and he explains it much better than I can, but I’m summarizing anyway.

This is where a lot of writers trap themselves by creating a scenario that’s meant to be dramatic or a major obstacle, but the tools at the character’s disposal make the obstacle trivial, and so there’s no tension. Some try to solve this by pretending that the tool doesn’t exist, but that only serves to make your character look like an idiot.

The formula above can be applied in multiple ways. Lets say character A is in scenario Z, and has the use of ability X. Character A may not want to use ability X becuase:

Using ability X would be a temporary measure, and scenario Z could become something even worse.

Using ability X would go against character A’s code of ethics.

Ability X has limited uses, and scenario Z is just not imporant enough to bother.

Ability X is volatile and unpredictable, and the risk of doing more harm than good is too high to be ignored.

Ability X is useless in scenario Z and using it would at best do nothing and at worst expend precious resources.

These kind of situations force your characters to come up with more creative (and more interesting) solutions to their problem.

5. The internal consistency test

Hogwarts has moving staircases, living pieces of art, and a telepathic hat that makes judgemental comments about little kids? Fine.

The Ministry has access to time machines and has no problem giving one to a 13 year old girl, but don’t use it to punch out Voldemort? The fuck.

Readers won’t care if your explanation boils down to a handwave and “It’s magic” or some sciency jargon, but they will absolutely care if you contradict yourself, or if your rules leave giant holes in them.

A good way to check yourself with this is to ask “would a knowledgeable and competent character find this decision/explanation/occurance to be reasonable or absolute bullshit.”

That said, if you leave out the context that would explain this seeming plot hole because you want it to be a big reveal later, then you need to lampshade the plot hole. You have to promise your reader that yes, I am aware this doesn’t make sense, but bear with me here.

6. Genre is a suggestion.

Lasers + spaceships + aliens + exotic planets = classic Sci Fi

Magic powers + wise old mentor + princess rescue + ancient order of mythical knights = classic fantasy

Lasers + spaceships + aliens + exotic planets + Magic powers + wise old mentor + princess rescue + ancient order of mythical knights = Star Wars

This one is the core principle of AU fanfiction and retellings. Taking a bunch of different elements from unrelated sources and letting them interact to create something new.

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer is sci-fi fairy tales. Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo is a fantasy heist novel. This Savage Song by VE Schwab is an urban fantasy/crime noir story. The possibilities are endless.

But in terms of actively writing, remember this one when you feel pressured to add or remove a certain element from the story because of the genre. Not every space story needs laser guns. Not every high fanstasy needs a monarchy. Elements can be played with as you wish.

7. Originality = fun > logic

"Why?” “Becuase that would be fucking awesome.”

This is primarily a world building tip, but it can easily work for plot too. As a writer, you’re looking for something that is unique and entertaining. Creating something unique is pretty challenging, but something entertaining? So much easier.

Forest scene feels bland? The trees can now scream in pain. Which they do. Constantly. Let’s see your characters have a boring old conversation when their chairs are begging for death.

Another example: Stabby the space roomba. It’s literally just a vacuum cleaner with a knife duct taped onto it that goes around stabbing people. Why is so popular? Becuase it’s ridiculous.

Logic is still important, naturally. These awesome things need to make sense. But that’s dependant on context. That screaming forest? Just establish beforehand that it’s a thing that exists. Stabby the roomba? I mean people are posting pictures of their actual real-life roombas to which they taped knives, so yeah, context allows for Stabby. 

From a plot standpoint, the trick lies in creating context for a moment of pure awesome which would make zero sense otherwise. Example: this page of Ms Marvel. How in hell does any character land themselves in a situation like that? Well if you read the comic you’d know.

It’s good to keep in mind that while this is a good way to generate ideas, the “awesome” things that you start out with won’t necessarily stick around as the world and story evolves. You may realize that your “awesome” doesn’t gel in with the rest of the story, or it can be improved upon, or that you only needed it as inspiration for a different awesome moent that you do use. But don’t ride or die for all of these ideas, it will only hold you back.